Naruto: The Outsider's Resolve: CH_214

The grip around the kunai felt typical in his hand. He groped it tighter to feel the cold metal underneath the wrapping as he contemplated on how to proceed. Masumoto with his heckling grin was matching his step as they kept an unchanging distance between it. Takuma could wait for Masumoto to make his first move, influence him into making the first move, or make the first move himself.

What do I want? Takuma asked himself the question.

He wanted to know more about Masumoto. That’s what he wanted. He had no interest in knowing about the man called Masumoto, yuck—but he had considerable interest in knowing the fighter named Masumoto. The man in front of him wasn’t just Bishop—just like Scars was a subset of him, Takuma considered Bishop to be a subset of Masumoto. He didn’t know much, if anything, about Bishop, so his mental image of Masumoto was lacking.

As his wants became clear, Takuma broke the equilibrium and strode towards Masumoto, who grinned wider. The man stood there, welcoming Takuma to have a go at him. Takuma broke into a run and threw the kunai at Masumoto with haste. He took another kunai and threw that as well, but this time, he gave it an extra push through augmentation. The second kunai caught up to the first one despite the difference in release.

It surprised Masumoto, but he handled it effortlessly. He avoided one of them and parried the second. But the twin kunai were only the start of the offense. Takuma breached Masumoto’s space with a feint of a casting punch. Masumoto moved to block, but the punch was only a cover for the kunai in his other hand.

Masumoto jerked his torso back to avoid the kunai that would’ve left a red wire across his upper chest. Takuma switched to a reverse grip and slashed the kunai back. Masumoto opted to grab Takuma’s arm to stop the sharp kunai. There was no gap between Takuma’s movements as he let go of the kunai; it dropped into his other hand and went for a viscous gutting stab. Masumoto had another hand as well that he put in the kunai’s way. The blade ripped through Masumoto’s lower sleeve, but drew no blood as the blade scratched against a metal arm guard. The kunai was forced to redirect away from the body.

Takuma’s hands were now in Masumoto’s firm grasp. The two fighters looked at each other and moved simultaneously. Takuma tried to overpower Masumoto and bend the latter’s arms into an awkward position—but Masumoto was quicker, and he kicked Takuma in the stomach. He was pushed back a couple of meters, but was now free from Masumoto’s grasp, who rushed Takuma.

A dense flurry of combinations with every intention to overwhelm targeted Takuma, who got busy blocking, dodging, and countering. They covered the distance on the ground as Takuma was forced to move back under Masumoto’s assault.

‘He’s a melee fighter,’ Takuma deduced. He looked up at Masumoto with a smile, and his heart spiked for a beat when he recognized the look on Masumoto’s face. The dull brown eyes were looking at him—really looking at him.

Takuma wasn’t the only one observing and making deductions.

Takuma dug his feet into the dirt, his soles skidding on the slippery grass before finding a grip. He took a stand and turned up the aggression. Takuma used what he noticed and got in a heavy straight to Masumoto’s side and a few more solid strikes, but he also got hit by an agile combo of kicks that left a dull ache on his calf, thigh, and hip.

Both sides getting in satisfying hits switched things up. Takuma snuck his hands onto Masumoto’s body, grabbed him by his clothes, and heaved him down to the dirt in an over-the-shoulder judo throw with a mighty roar. He raised his right fist, chakra flooded the pathways in his arm, and then he brought the hammer down.

Masumoto winced when he hit the ground but got his focus in time to see the throbbing vein on Takuma’s forehead and the raised fist with the sun behind it. Danger. He slapped Takuma’s other hand holding him down, and rolled to the side and kept rolling. The earth exploded. He was smacked with a bucket load of dirt on his face and felt the ground underneath him sink and slant.

Takuma growled as he pulled his fist and wrist out of the soft ground.

He noticed Masumoto’s dirt-covered face staring at the crater he had just created. Their eyes met, and they sprang into action. Masumoto, on all fours, turned his back to Takuma and tried to pull away. Takuma leaped forward, grabbed a leg, and pulled his opponent back. Masumoto turned again, now facing Takuma; he kicked Takuma, digging his heel into his shoulder. Takuma’s face twitched with pain, but he didn’t let go and gave a sharp tug to yank Masumoto closer.

He was going to cave Masumoto’s chest in with a good ol’ augmented stomp.

Masumoto responded with three shuriken headed for Takuma’s face. They dug into Takuma’s upper arm, failing to reach their target. Masumoto laughed at Takuma’s painful hiss as he pulled away, finally getting the space and time he needed to get back up at his feet.

As Takuma pulled the shuriken from his arm, Masumoto weaved hand seals.

Takuma jumped back and weaved hands seals as well.

Fire Release: Twin Tiger’s Fury

Water Style: Eight Tentacles

Starting from his fists, Masumoto’s arm was engulfed in fiery flames up to halfway above his elbow. The pooling fire made Masumoto’s fists look thrice their actual size. Each time he flexed, the fires expanded, burning hotter.

“I’m hungry; let’s do some cooking, boy,” Masumoto said as he cracked his neck.

The water in the field rose and collected behind Takuma. With a flex of his shoulder blades, eight whole tentacles shot out from behind his back. Each of them moved like they were alive. Takuma dipped into the pack around his thigh and threw four kunai that were then snatched up from the air by four tentacles.

“I won’t trust you to boil water properly. It’d be probably lukewarm… like you,” said Takuma.

Masumoto chuckled with a smile that didn’t really reach his eyes before dashing toward him. Takuma responded in kind and rushed forward as well. Masumoto pulled one of his arms back and punched out for a jet of fire to explode out toward Takuma. The water tentacles twitched into action, forming a protective umbrella in front of Takuma.

Eight Tentacles wasn’t a defensive jutsu. While it managed to block out the flames, he felt the intense heat wash over him as though he was standing in front of an incinerator. The water began to boil and even turn to steam to Takuma’s surprise.

Wasn’t water supposed to have an advantage over fire? Takuma jumped away, but Masumoto didn’t release the pressure, pursuing Takuma and blasting him with consecutive fire jets with incredible reach. Takuma tried his best, but Masumoto was just as fast, and any difference was made up by the extended reach provided by the ninjutsu.

The heat stung, and Takuma was dripped with sweat. He tried to whip Masumoto with the tentacles in hopes of extinguishing the flames, but they would replenish quickly. Takuma realized he needed to douse all or most of the fire to break the jutsu. The tentacles had already nearly halved in length. He knew they wouldn’t last long, and he couldn’t go in close to knock Masumoto out because of the harsh flames.

“Is this hot enough for you?” Masumoto laughed and punched forth, and Takuma had to pull off his tentacles in front of him to block the fire that was the same size as his body.

Takuma didn’t reply and jumped up high into the sky. The ground cracked under the force of his chakra, pushing him to a high apex. Masumoto was directly below him, his arms still encased in fire. The tentacles moved before Takuma, hiding him from Masumoto’s view. Behind the tentacles, Takuma weaved hand seals for Water Release: Wild Water Wave. As Takuma descended, the tentacles moved aside, and Takuma poured down the copious volume of water on Masumoto, who failed to dodge it.

The jutsu broke, and Masumoto looked like a wet dog. The pressure of the jutsu, acting with gravity, weighed down on Masumoto, forcing him to kneel down and then lie flat down from the sheer pressure of the jutsu. Even though it didn’t have a high offense power, Wild Water Wave was still a C-rank jutsu.

Takuma landed on the ground. Two half-length tentacles dropped their kunai into his arms that he launched at Masumoto. One of them nicked Masumoto’s shoulder while he caught the other one.

Masumoto was wobbly as he got on his feet, and when Takuma charged toward him, he took a shaky step back. It was clear that he was still feeling the battery from the Wild Water Wave. He threw the kunai back at Takuma, but it was so weak that Takuma didn’t even think of slowing down when he stepped out of its way.

Takuma pushed off his back leg and swung his fist wide as he dropped over Masumoto. The augmented force hit Masumoto’s forearms, blowing him away—he rolled like a tumbleweed on the high wind. Takuma could feel that this was his chance to pull the victory into his court and gave chase. He covered ground in one long leap, and jumped up high to then descend right over Masumoto, intending to re-do the augmented stomp he had missed—but this time with both of his feet.

Masumoto’s arms trembling from Takuma with pain painting his face red. He saw Takuma coming down him and once again rolled away at the last moment. A crater thrice the size of the previous one marred the earth.

Takuma was irritated that he missed a second time, but Masumoto was close this time, and he intended to not miss a third time. He brought down his fist, a river of charka flowing through it.

Masumoto, who was struggling to the ground, suddenly moved his arm at a lightning-quick speed, and Takuma saw a fistful of dirt headed for his face. He closed his eyes in time to not get blinded by the pocket sand trick.

His heart dropped a beat as a dangerous premonition snaked around him.

Takuma opened his eyes to see Masumoto up with a rock-steady stance. His arms were still trembling, but everything else looked perfectly fine. He strangely had a kunai between his teeth.

Takuma realized what had happened because he had done it before.

The next moment, he felt a foot smash into his knee from the side, destroying his balance and forcing him to awkwardly kneel. Takuma wanted to laugh because of how familiar it felt. He had fallen into a trap. Masumoto had first pretended to be hurt, then took real damage from his augmented diving punch to sell it, and lured Takuma in to have a possibility for a dirty sneak attack.

Masumoto weaved hand seals before grabbing the kunai in his mouth. The metal sizzled before the blade turned a glowing red with wisps of flames burning on the surface. He brought down the scorching kunai down at Takuma’s outstretched thigh.

Takuma was forced into a vulnerable position, but he wasn’t defenseless. He gritted his teeth and stopped the kunai with both his hands. The kunai didn’t cut him, but the ninjutsu burned the skin and flesh of his hand.

Masumoto had a sadistic smile as Takuma screamed in his face.

“Hot enough?” Masumoto said, eerily calm.

Masumoto didn’t try to force the kunai as his arms were still recovering from Takuma’s augmented hit. He released the kunai, and so did Takuma, who truly realized that he was fighting a real Ring fighter, as in the next moment, Masumoto struck him in the throat.

Takuma felt his ability to breathe to go away—but he didn’t panic—he, too, was a Ring fighter.

Masumoto performed a spinning sidekick and smashed it into Takuma’s jaw. Takuma swayed dangerously and got marshmallow feet, but he didn’t fall. Masumoto aggressively pulled out a kunai and went in for a gutting. Takuma moved his hand in kunai’s way in the last moment to successfully save his stomach.

“Respect, brother,” said Masumoto, “but this is the end.”

The last thing Masumoto saw before he genuinely blacked out for a moment was the crazy look on Takuma’s face as she headbutted him in the face. He immediately fell to the ground. When he came to after a couple seconds, Masumoto felt a world of pain and disorientation so extreme that he instantly vomited. His nose was broken, he had orbital fractures, he had cut his lip—his face was a bleeding mess.

And all of that was from a single headbutt.

It was pure instinct that Takuma’s chakra rushed out of his forehead.

It was the first augmented headbutt of his life.

Takuma completely ignored it and made some distance between Masumoto and him despite seeing his opponent on the ground. He needed a moment to get his head and balance straight. He knew a Ring fighter of Bishop’s level wouldn’t go down so easily—but also was confident that he had some, perhaps a few seconds before he had to be back in.

He looked down at his hands, and there was a kunai-shaped burn wound. Even the slightest moment sent pain signals. He clenched his fists and caused more pain. The more pain he felt, the clearer his head became.

He looked back at Masumoto; the man stood up and stared Takuma down as he put his hands on his face and snapped his dislocated jaw back into place. Even his messed-up face couldn’t disfigure the anger he was feeling.

Weaving hands seals hurt, but Takuma did it without showing a single expression.

Water Style: Water Clone Jutsu

The water rose from the wet ground, forming a mass that took the shape of Takuma’s body contours before there was a clone of Takuma standing beside him.

“Scars,” said Takuma, assigning the role to him.

“Takuma,” said the clone, doing the same.

If one of him was having a difficult time wrapping Bishop quickly, then adding one more of him ought to solve that problem.