Chapter 56: CH_2.25 (056)

When Takuma opened his eyes, he was staring at a moss green tarp roof.  One eye blink later he remembered where he was and he shot up for tearing pain shot up from every part of his body.  He groaned and grunted painfully as his body forced him to fall back on the stretcher bed lying upon.

"It would be unwise for you to move, young Takuma."

Takuma's groaning stopped as he turned his head to rest his eyes on the familiar wrinkled face that he had associated with the answer to any question he could ever have.

"I knew I wasn't conjuring you up because I hit my head," he croaked his words with a smile that only went halfway because his face hurt.  It had been two months since he had seen his mentor, but it felt like an eternity.  It was because of the basic training which consumed his life that he hadn't noticed how much he had missed his mentor.

Seeing Maruboshi was also one of the reasons he hadn't given up when he got his leg absolutely shredded.  He had fought many spars, and he had lost in front of many people, but Maruboshi was the one person who hadn't seen him lose (except to the man himself)— and he preferred that his mentor never saw him lose.  And apparently, he was willing to go to some lengths because his body was killing him.

"That would have been worrying if you imagined me because of a head injury," said Maruboshi.

Takuma wanted to chuckle but groaned instead when the pain spiked in his leg.  He subconsciously braced himself by clenching his muscle, which set off pain receptors throughout his body like nothing.

"I worked hard to fix you," came another familiar voice, "and I'd appreciate it if you don't worsen it so quickly after."

Takuma glanced at Shady Guy, who wiped his hands with a bloody cloth.  The lanky iryo-nin looked as shady as ever with his do-rag and blackout glasses.

"Is he in condition to continue?" Maruboshi asked the Shady Guy.

"What do you think?"

"I won?!  I mean, I'm fine.  I can fight!" Takuma interjected, feeling the rush of elation of victory that was then taken over by a worry of not being able to fight in the final.  Not fighting in the finals wasn't an option, he had too much invested in the tournament. Sunk-cost fallacy could fuck itself for all he cared.  He wasn't going to give up now after the beating he had taken just to get to the finals.  "What's happening with Masaaki and Nenro?  Is their fight done?"

"They are fighting as we speak," said Maruboshi.

"I have to see it," Takuma said as he attempted to get up, but Maruboshi gently pushed him back to the stretcher.

"I believe being in a condition to fight is a prerequisite to participate in the finals.  If you truly want to fight, it will be best for you to rest."

"But…" Takuma shut his mouth.  Even if he did manage to scout something by observing the fight, if he couldn't haul himself to the fight, all of it'd be for naught.

He turned to the Shady Guy.  "How long before I'm able to move without pain," he asked.

"Not today at least," said the Shady Guy before an expression of thought appeared on his mind.  "Though I believe I can always give you something extra to dull the pain enough for you to move around enough."

"I'll take it."

"Now Takuma you do not have to partici—"

"Give me the painkillers," Takuma interrupted.

The Shady Guy and Maruboshi shared a glance before the former nodded and walked away, leaving the mentor and student alone.

"I don't know what that was, but I still want those painkillers!" Takuma yelled after the Shady Guy.  He turned to Maruboshi and narrowed his eyes.  "I'm fighting in the finals," he declared.

Maruboshi stared down at Takuma, who had his face and half of his body covered in gauze bandages.  Takuma didn't look more like a mummy than a patient under care.

"Is there nothing I can do to have you change your mind?" asked Maruboshi.  "Fighting in an unstable condition can be dangerous.  Shinobi are resilient and iryojutsu can be miraculous, but the body must not be treated lightly.  Every tool needs to be maintained meticulously for optimal performance."

The thought of asking a C-rank jutsu as the condition to forfeit crossed Takuma's mind, but he squashed the thought.  He couldn't ask Maruboshi to buy him a jutsu.  He needed to earn it on his own.

He shook his head.

Maruboshi sighed.  "I wonder if I made a mistake in my teaching for you to turn out to be so stubborn."

Takuma tried to smile through the pain in his facial muscles.  Damn, Arisu!  She had truly bashed every part of his face thoroughly.  If he was a basketball player, he would've absolutely rocked a black face mask as he felt out to play.  Black-mask Takuma, dropping daggers on the dime.

"The finals are after lunch.  Depending on how long your friends' fight go, you have a little under two hours to rest.  Let us hope that is enough time for you to recuperate enough."

"It better be enough," Takuma sighed.  "I spent all my mission points so that I could win the tournament.  I'd be behind by a lot if I don't win."

He turned his head to the side to look in the direction of the fight.  In the distance, the crowd of shinobi blocked him out from seeing anything that was happening in the fight.

———

.

Nenro clutched his arm as he looked cautiously at Masaaki, who shook his head with a jerk.  Nenro felt his arm through his fingers— he could still move it, so it wasn't broken, at least not completely, but he had close to no feeling in it.

He was careless.

Getting close to Masaaki was dangerous, he knew that.  It was dangerous even if Masaaki was under the binds of a genjutsu.  If he had been cautious, he would've been able to avoid Masaaki striking him with those knuckle-dusters of his right after suddenly breaking the genjutsu.

"You almost got me there," Masaaki said, an excited grin resurfacing on his face as he raised his fist back into stance.  "Should've known to be clear of your genjutsu in the first place."

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Nenro didn't chuckle— no, he couldn't.  He felt like he was on pin-pricks waiting for Masaaki to suddenly make a move.  Everyone hid their skills and cards for the final tournament.  Masaaki had done the same.  Everyone who had fought Masaaki knew how powerful the punches from him were, but they didn't know the upper limit.  No one knew because he hadn't shown them.  But Nenro knew.

That's why he had to be careful.  Every strike potentially meant a chance for the start of the end of the fight to begin.  If Masaaki got a solid swing in, he could use that to drag him to a painful loss.

That's why he had a sturdy vambrace under his vest to soften the metallic blow of Masaaki's knuckle-dusters.

As he predicted, Masaaki charged at him without warning.

Nenro tried to get out of the way, but Masaaki predicted his movements, so he was forced to twist his body to make the fist miss by a fraction, but Masaaki quickly used his fist, and Nenro was forced to block with his arm.  The contact spun him around, putting him on his ass, and the pain was instant.  It vibrated up his blocking arm, into his shoulder, and down his back.

He jumped to his feet, scurrying away from Masaaki, who came at him swinging like a charging rhino.  Nenro blocked two thundering blows and could no longer feel his forearms.  But he couldn't take a single moment to rest.

Masaaki came on.

Trying to shake some feeling back into his arm, Nenro danced out of the way of his larger friend's next swing but had to use his arm to block Masaaki's follow-up.  The collision of knuckle-duster and the vambrace came close to tearing the protection from his arm.

Nenro could feel his soul almost leaving him.  He had never been hit harder.  Every hit vibrated his body like a damn bell.

But he needed to continue.  He sucked air into his lungs and faced Masaaki, who swung his fist in a wide swing.

He ducked beneath the arm and thrust his fist into Masaaki's gut.  Masaki stepped off the line of the thrust and swiped at with his other first.  The punch belted Nenro aside, lifting lift off the ground and flinging him through the air.  He hit the sand hard and the air was blasted from Nenro's lungs.  Head spinning, chest burning, he rolled to his knees.  Masaaki was still coming from him.

He knew winning a close combat was impossible against Masaaki.  Even Kameko had to utilize the complete length of her sword to keep Masaaki at a length because even a glancing blow could do bruising damage.  So, he needed some space.

Masaaki closed in on Nenro and was only a few feet until he was within striking range when something was flung towards him.  His eyes instinctively followed the and it was Nenro's vambrace.  But what made Masaaki's eyes shrink was the explosive tag stuck to the surface.

Masaaki came to a screeching halt and jumped to the side as the red tag burnt and an explosion ripped through the field, throwing Masaaki away like a rag doll.

There was a gasp or two across the audience.

Nenro stood up, staggering sideways as his feet betrayed him after the explosion from a higher grade of explosion tag that he had prepared for emergency use.  He would apologize to Masaaki for it later, but right now, he needed to win the fight.

He began to weave his hand seals with his shaky hands immediately, knowing that he didn't have long.  He kept his eye in front and as he expected, even before the bloom of dust could clear up, Masaaki jumped out of it, he no longer had a smile on his face.

This was it.

Nenro sucked in all the air he could into his lungs and with the last hand seal, he could feel his chakra move to the tenketsu in his lungs, transforming the air.  He let it go and breathed out a cloudy mist that shot out in a stream for a length before fanning out.

Katon: Enbu no Jutsu (Fire Release: Mist Waltz Technique)

Masaaki again stopped and immediately looked to both sides but before he could make a move to escape out of the mist, something entered his periphery and he caught a kunai out of the air.  He looked down at it and his pupil narrowed when he noticed an explosion tag hanging from it.

Masaaki couldn't have been quicker to throw the kunai away and crouch down into a fetal position to minimize damage.  The kunai flew through the mist as the tag burnt, but it didn't explode— instead, at the emergence of the first spark of the flame, the entirety of cloudy mist caught on fire.

Nenro coughed as he got rid of the leftover residue combustible mist from his lungs.  Katon didn't suit him, it never did from the start.  But it was the right choice for the situation.

'It should be over now—'

His breath caught he felt a wave of vibration pass through his body and a split-second later the fire plume was cut in half, revealing the figure of Masaaki with singed hair, darkened skin and parts of his clothes still on fire.  He cocked his arm and the knuckle-duster bathed his fist in a white light and when he punched another vibration wave cut through the air, pushing the fire away from Masaaki.

Nenro knew that Masaaki practiced bukijutsu.  He had known that from when they were in the academy.  It was a retired shinobi who had given Masaaki the knuckle-duster, taught him how to use them, and was probably also the person who gave him the jutsu that he just used.

But that wasn't the part that Nenro was focused on.  Masaaki already had a wide frame, but right now, Nenro could see that his muscles had bulged even further.

This was it.  Masaaki was going serious now.

He needed to be careful now.  Every attack from now on was going to be brutal.  He could lose the fight if he missed even a beat.

If he was hit—

Masaaki took a step forward and covered several feet in a single push.  Nenro watched Masaaki close in on him but it was only when Masaaki was a couple feet from him that he could react— and Nenro acted… only to be full-body tackled by Masaaki before he could even move.

Nenro couldn't win, not against this.  As he flew through the air, he thought to call for mercy and end the foolishness before Masaaki killed him.

… But he couldn't lose because he always won.

Nenro rag dolled across the field, hitting and rolling the ground multiple times before coming to a stop.  He almost reached the edge of the field, where the spectators stood.

And when Nenro stood up, the crowd behind him went mad.

Across the field, Masaaki clenched his fist and the knuckle-dusters released a lethal glow.

 

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