Chapter 32: Kitsumoto Hachirō

The metronome tick of the mass of rolling names echoed amidst the room, like a suspended sword hung upon the top of one's head. With each passing moment, the board's momentum waned, cycle by cycle. What was once a whirlwind of participants, long enough to take several seconds to loop around even at it's highest speed, had now dwindled to a fortunate (or unfortunate) handful, cycling through repeatedly in the blink of an eye. "Hanagi Ikou", of the Hidden Rain, had been one of these fortunate few, having yet to be called forth to take his place upon the tournament by proving his strength.

"Perhaps this is what they call 'fate'" he thought to himself somewhat sardonically."Amidst the countless missions that could have fallen upon me, I was assigned here - and after all these years, she continues to attempt to pass the exam. Or perhaps it is my hatred that binds us, a 'gravity' that connects us all. What a mysterious mistress, this 'fate'...mayhaps she shall see me fight her here, too?" he contemplated, as he continued to watch the slowing board. From the thirty or so young genin that had first enterred this room, only a little above dozen were left - and he knew some of them had already fought, remaining only to watch their comrades. And so, with attentive eyes, they watched as the flickering list of names slowed down to a crawl, before finally settling on a final match.

HANAGI IKOU VS JUNKI TAKENAGA

"Not quite, huh..?" It would have been to easy, he concluded. "It's all for the better though...you were there too. Don't think I've forgotten. Watch closely, my old comrade."

Already, quiet chatter began to spread amidst the thin crowd as the two young shinobi descended the stands. What usual cheering and jeerring took place between the matches of the natives of Konoha seemed to have little fuel with this upcoming fight. They knew very little about this 'Hanagi Ikou' - something he had made sure of himself. He could tell an air of unease hanged over them. As the two walked upon the cracked floor, damaged severely from the previous matches, the Masked Anbu Proctor took his place upon the center once more.

"You know the rules. Are there any issues?"
"No."
"..." Junki remained in silence for a moment, as if caught in thought.
"What is it, boy?"
"N-nothing. I have no issue."

But there was an issue - or perhaps, the lack of one was what made him feel so uneasy. Junki Takenaga stared intently at his opponent. He knew his avian companion had felt it too. A 'pressure' coming from his opponent. An eerie feeling of Deja Vu.
"Have we...met before?" He had to ask.
"Huh?" Hanagi acted as though he had never heard his name. "It's a very wide world out there. Who's to say? But if you want to find out..there's nothing better to remember such things...than a little fight." he finished, unsheathing his Tantō. The masked proctor, ever emotionless, simply raised his arms, stopping the discussion. "If all is agreed, then you may begin!"

Within a fraction of a moment, the masked shinobi went on the offensive! Jumping backwards, Junki narrowly avoided the chakra-charged blade, his avian companion taking flight as he brought his hands into the shape of a handsign almost instinctively. Suddenly, there was a tremor amidst the ground, and out from within the stone, a wall of surging wood rose around Hanagi. Before he was able to react, the wood bent around him, closing him within a wooden dome. Even as he was already trapped, the wood continued to grow, layer after layer adding into the barrier, imprisoning Junki's opponent within. A moment of tense silence followed, and after a moment, the Birdsinger thought himself to be safe. Had my gut feeling simply been off?

"Impressive. It is rather scary, how powerful the Wood Style is, no?"

Junki looked around, trying to find the source of the disembodied voice - even as he tuned himself to his sensory abilities, he could not find its source until he revealed himself, appearing from within a curtain of fog ontop of the dome as if born from thin air. "He was never imprisoned at all. Did he use Genjutsu?!" Taking his time as if to mock his opponent, Hanagi jumped from the dome, landing on the floor one foot behind the other and a hand holding the handsign of the tiger as he held his blade up to his head. "Allow me to demonstrate what one can do when they have no inherited powers to dull their focus."

Then, like a mirage in a desert, Kitsumoto's shape began to multiply, first by two, then by four, eight, sixteen,and many more - within mere moments, half the floor had been taken by the many bodies of masked shinobi - an incredible usage of the clone jutsu. They shambled forth, and soon, the band of doubles was upon Junki! Though the young waterfall ninja knew they were mere illusions, moving against the wrong target would give his opponent an fatal opening. Thinking quickly, he summoned forth an wooden sphere, and with another lightning quick handsign, caused it to explode! Like a fragmentation grenade, the explosion sent a rain of sharp wooden splinters towards all sides, peppering the walls with a rain of deadly shards. Yet when Junki looked at his work...

"What?!"

Nothing had happened. Though they had momentarily stopped, his wooden needles had gone through and past the clones, leaving them completely unharmed. Though the infamous shadow clones that some of the genin had shown in their fights could receive damage without being destroyed, he had never heard of a technique capable of making clones that could ignore it outright. His mind racing to find an manner to deal with this technique, Junki suddenly gasped as an he felt a burning cut across his right foot's tendon - forcing himself to remain upright as he conjured a wooden barrier to protect himself. "I definitely can't let him hit me like that again, but how am i gonna find the real one?"

Outside, the army of ghost clones continued to shamble around the wooden wall, seemingly choosing to not go through it. Junki tried to think of a plan, even as his wooden bird worked to heal the wound on his foot. "I've seen clones before, but never of this kind. And not only that, but he went invisible before too. I didn't even hear him get close. How can I tell which one is the real Hanagi? Unless..." he had an idea.

Jumping from beneath his barricade, Junki lands on top of his wall, his hand already shifting between handsigns as his avian companion soars to the heights of the arena. Beating her wings back and forth, she begins to create a roaring gust of wind that reverberates through the entire room, whistling loudly as it circulates. The young shinobi holds his hands in the last seal, watching attently, before abruptly shifting his gaze, and throwing his hand forth. A colossal wooden spike erupts from the earth below, akin to a stake meant for a beast, accompanied by a fine spray of blood and a stifled groan. It had hit! "I may not be able to see chakra like Jin or D, but I've still got my ways, Mr.Ikou! Since my attacks went through your clones, that means they are completely non-physical, but you aren't! All I had to do was make Minori fill the room with wind, and see where the currents were shifting!" He thrusts his hands forth again, and yet another spike bursts through the ground, followed by another, and another, and another! Though the camouflaged shinobi tries to flee the attack, it is to no avail. "There's nowhere for you to hide anymore!"

And though he had not said it, his message resonated with his adversary. Emerging once more from his mist, he shed his camouflage, clutching his bleeding left arm. "Not bad..." he murmured, before dashing off. Jumping from spike to spike with frightening speed. Darting between them and with his Tantō in hand, he lunged towards his prey - the bird! Though it could fly, the arena's confines prevented it from remaining out of reach. Hurtling through the air, he poised himself, blade raised against the cornered Midori—only to pivot suddenly, throwing a senbon needle back downwards as he narrowly evaded a mighty wooden pillar sent to crush him. His assault had been a ruse all along, with Junki as the true target.. Caught off guard, the long needle found it's mark, digging deeply into his shoulder as he stifled a grunt of pain.

Satisfied with his success, Hanagi quickly threw the sign of the tiger, flickering away mid-air as he escaped retribution. Yet as he appeared, halfway across the arena though still in the air, he was suddenly struck by a sharp jab against his chest - a beak! Minori had charged against him, taking him by surprise as he finished flickering. He gasped, air leaving him from the strike. "T-this speed! Did she not dodge my previous attack on purpose?!" Enhancing himself with chakra, he struck the bird away, ending her barrage - but this momentary disruption was all that was necessary to create an opening. Snaking from below, to vines shot up, wrapping themselves around his sandals before pulling him downwards and into the floor, planting his legs on the ground like bamboo shoots. Only by the application of Taijutsu at the last moment did he avoid being entirely crippled. Hanagi had little time to think, however, as Junki, wiling himself through the pain, extended his arm, gathering the elemental energy inside him at his very fingertip, before propelling it forth in the shape of a wooden bullet. Unable to move, Kitsumoto raised his blade, just narrowly blocking the projectile, continuing to burn his ever-decreasing reserves of chakra on the enhancement of his body. Yet his opponent was still not done; he fired another shot, then another, then another. Without a moment of rest, he faced the barrage of bullets, just barely parrying each shot away from him.

But Hanagi could not keep this up forever, and soon, his timing off, by a fraction of a moment alone. And this fraction was enough. The wooden bullet dug through him, followed by another, and another, and another. More a firing squad than an attack, Junki poured everything he had. "I can win this. I can beat him if i finish him now!" His hope soaring, he took a steep forward, ready to finish his foe off - but then!

"Urgh!"

Junki fell to the ground as an unspeakable burning feeling invaded his body, his joints locking up as if they had been glued shut. He could not move any longer, no matter how hard he forced himself to. Unable to maintain his hold in his wooden plants, his foe, standing still even after being peppered with shots, forced himself out of the hole he had been forced into, red ichor dropping from his chest as if it were a shower. "Springsnake toxin, from the River Country...it was not cheap to buy." Gathering his strength, he began to walk towards him, each step more forced than the last. "With a friend like yours, a fast acting poison was no good. You'd realize it too soon.I had to find something that would only take effect after a while..." he stopped before him, raising his knife. Watching them from a distance, the Anbu Proctor stood still.

Junki tried to force his body to move, refusing to succumb to the impending defeat. "I can't lose now...not when we've gone so far! I can't let Sen and Ghidorah down!" His willpower blaze on, brighter than it ever had. Despite his injuries, fatigue, poison, and agony, Junki mustered the remnants of his chakra for one final, last ditch attack. He summoned forth the very last of his energy. A colossal wooden pillar burst from his arm, taking Hanagi with it as it violently crashed into the arena wall, pinning his opponent and beneath its grasp and carving out a deep crater as the arena was covered by a cloud of shallow dust.

It seemed like the fight had been resolved at last. The young genin, now utterly bereft of his chakra, continued to stand on his feet through sheer willpower alone, his body utterly spent, unable to move even a single muscle. Breathing heavily, he continued to stare, unwilling to move for even a second until the match had been declared. His vision had begun to blur at the edges. "Hagh...why hasn't the Anbu called it yet...? It's over, right? He said, hoping he had not been too careless and killed the man.

Drip.

From behind the wooden pillar, a single rust-tinted drop of liquid fell, and soon after that, an flood of water, enough to fill an entire bathtub. Through the swirling cloud of dust, a figure stumbled into the ground. There was a reason why the match had not been called yet. Hanagi had saved himself, encasing his own body in water, like a shield. His body still bleeding, the soaked figure slowly forced itself up...yet as the dust began to settle, it became visible at last that his mask had been lost. His head shifted to the bird whisperer, arms limp at his sides, his hand grasping the blade as if it had been glued shut. Junki's eyes widened.

He remembered that face.

"I feel a pain...something underneath my head burns. Did he cut me...? Wait...I did meet him. I know who he is. Kitsumoto Hachirō...you're alive?"

Junki, blood gushing from his neck, collapsed at last. Behind him, stood his foe, and the perpetrator of the deed, weapon in hand. The match was, at last, over over.

The watching crowd was frozen solid, the young genin silent as they watched what could very well be the death of one of their own. In the blink of an eye, Kamiko Karatachi was already upon the young genin, before the Proctor could so much as declare the match's end. A faint light emanated from her as she desperately sealed the cut on Junki's neck. The exam aides rushed into the team, waiting to take him to the infirmary - or if need be, the morgue. None dared to speak in the following moments, the Redhaired Jonin pouring her healing chakra upon him as she the wound sealed before her eyes. After a few seconds, she let out a sigh of relief. "He's stable, but weak. Let's take him to the infirmary. " The helpers nodded, and soon, Junki was carted away, breathing raggedly, but alive. At last, the only one left in the arena was the young assassin. The crowd remained silent still, waiting to see what he would say.

"hahahahah...Hahahahah! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He broke into a laughing fit, before suddenly snapping towards one particular figure in the stands, one who had been particularly quiet since the fight had ended. He raised his blade towards her.

"Sen Yamamoto! I've come back from hell to drag you back there with me! Win this pathetic fight, and meet me in the tournament...where your debts will be repayed at last!"

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder - his 'mentor', Inaba, had seemingly appeared besides him, his eyes holding a clear message: It was time to stop. Satisfied with his announcement, Kitsumoto complied, shambling away as he walked to the infirmary, laughter following him all the way.