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His Adam's apple bobbed in a nervous swallow as he gazed at the three tomoe gently spinning in red. While he stood stern with his arms crossed, the tentacles moved subconsciously—one half drifted closer to him, almost cocooning, while the other half flared out to appear larger.
The spar hadn't even started. It was a declaration that she didn't want a repeat of the last round.
Three tomoe. Wasn't the matured Sharingan supposed to be a rarity even in the Uchiha clan? What was it doing in the sockets of a fifteen-year-old? He would've been disappointed if she had a single tomoe, and was fully expecting to face the second stage, but the final stage was out of his expectations.
"Must say, it suits her." Grey suddenly appeared beside him, a tentacle going through his gut.
"Aren't you surprised?"
"Not really. She used to be so tiny and frail when we were little, but never weak—she was strong from the start… Hey, compliment her eyes."
"You have gorgeous eyes."
"Thank you," Izumi said with a half smile, currently pinned to a fighting mindset. "It's not often I hear that. People find them more intimidating than pleasing."
He wasn't surprised. Her Sharingan, in all likelihood, only appeared during spars or fights, where people were more concerned with dōjutsu's lethal capacity over its ocular beauty. His reaction wasn't any different, but he agreed with Grey; she was beautiful.
"Of course, not more than you," he quickly added, turning to Mikoto.
She smiled. "Good boy. We're already over a minute, so let's not waste any more time. It'd defeat the purpose if I allow too much time for recovery." Her words were pointed more towards Izumi, who was hit pretty hard in the last round.
"Go!"
He immediately leapt back, while throwing a volley of shuriken, expecting her to start strong and build momentum with her Sharingan. Instead, she took an unhurried diagonal step back and turned her body sideways to avoid the volley—her eyes precisely followed the movement of every flying star—while swinging a kunai once to catch those she couldn't avoid with that single step. Two shuriken rattled around the kunai's blade until they fell next to her feet.
With muscles tensed, he got ready for her blazing speed, as opposed to walking towards him like she was out on a stroll. He slowed down, maintaining a constant distance, puzzled by her actions. Why would she be so passive with her Sharingan out?
It was almost imperceptible, but he noticed she was leaning her weight on one side; the hit to the ribs was clearly bothering her.
And then it hit him. She was buying time!
The kunai in her hand suddenly flew to his face. A tentacle moved in its trajectory, sapping its speed as it passed through, allowing him to catch it safely. She was already signing hand seals, but they were close enough that he charged ahead with the tentacles at the ready in case he had to put them forth to protect himself from fire.
Their eyes met. He felt a chill when he saw the tomoe spinning. He had seen Mikoto's Sharingan a handful of times, but it hadn't felt intimidating because it never felt like she was analysing him. These eyes were watching him.
It was a D-rank jutsu with a short seal chain. A fire bubbled in her palm like molten metal poured onto something cool, then exploded in a blinding flare just before he could reach her. It baffled him again. Why would an Uchiha use a flash-type attack when they relied so much on their eyes? Why would she want to close her eyes even for a moment? Those thoughts rang out in his mind as the light pierced through the tentacles.
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On the other side of the flare shroud, Izumi moved with her eyes closed. It didn't matter. She knew he was roughly two metres away. She moved left because he would move in the opposite direction. The kunai and the jutsu were both offset just enough so that he'd be compelled to move away from the danger. She even ensured right foot placement so he would find it easier to move in that direction by precisely timing her jutsu.
The clock was ticking. Half a minute had passed in the round, and a few minutes since she was hit in the side by his augmented punch. It no longer spasmed as badly, but she wanted to squeeze in as much recovery as possible, so she wouldn't be hindered when it was time to move fast.
One…two…three. At the count of three, she opened her eyes to see the deep blue tentacles lunging her way. They had moved so nimbly—moved him so strangely—in the last round, but now they seemed slow. She ducked her head and leaned forward while pivoting to her right to make them miss. A kunai glinted as she dissected one, switched the blade between hands to cut a second, and got a third one as they pulled back.
Three masses of water splashed on the ground, drenching her leg and caking her feet in mud.
But if she wanted more time to recover, why not stay away? He was clearly a melee fighter. It would've been an easier time if she had maintained distance. That was the plan for the fifth round, but the fourth round prompted her to change it.
Now, the plan was to watch and learn.
To know him as the fighter he was, she needed to know him at his best, where he felt the most comfortable, which was up close and personal, where he could swing his fists, where he was the most dangerous.
His strengths, weaknesses, quirks, and habits—she would learn them and use everything against him.
Wasn't that the motivation behind their spar?
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She was close. He thought she would've moved away, but as the flare dimmed, she was still roughly the same distance from before. He used his tentacles to buy a moment in case she was going for an aggressive attack. They were immediately cut down, but she moved back without coming after him.
There wasn't a hint of rush in her person as she stalked him, moving steadily around him, until she abruptly zapped towards him, causing him to defend with the tentacles. She moved like she planned to do so all along, regardless of the tentacle's position, weaving between them so naturally until she was surrounded, which was when the blades in her hands moved, harvesting them like a scythe sweeping through a crop.
An unharmed tentacle found an opening and attacked her with a kunai, only for her to kick it while the sharp edge was only inches away from her; the tentacle burst into an explosion of water—somehow finding the spot where the chakra density was the lowest.
Though nowhere as capable in this regard as the Byakugan, the Sharingan could see the flow of chakra.
In a span of ten seconds, he lost over half of the water mass.
Just when he thought she would follow up, she stayed put, gazing at him with her red eyes. She was daring him to come to her, and so he did. He thought she would maintain distance, which would've been a worse outcome than fighting the Sharingan head-on. Not that there wasn't another choice. He couldn't avoid her because that defeated the purpose of the spar. And the longer he fought against the Sharingan, the lower his chances of victory would become.
He had to get in victories while he could before she managed to figure him out.
The tentacles retracted behind him as he stepped to her and took the first swing that was easily blocked. He grabbed the arm she used to block and struck out with his other hand, augmenting his attack only for it to whiff past her ear.
She shoved him with a shoulder to push him back, but he didn't let go of her arm, so she kicked him in the knee where she had struck him with a fire kick in the last round. He let go, unwilling to trade damage.
Neither of them backed away and went right back at each other. It wasn't any different from previous rounds as they stuck to their strengths. He tried to overwhelm, pushing on aggressively, looking to get in a heavy hit, while she moved like the wind, not allowing any satisfying hits and dissuading him from building any momentum by putting him in his worst state for any follow-up, while exploiting every opportunity he opened to her.
Only, even worse than before. Takuma had barely hit Izumi; in fact, he couldn't even remember the last time he landed a hit. And all the while, the number of successful strikes from her end was only increasing. It truly felt like he was punching air, as though she could see his move before they arrived—and she probably could. D
The Sharingan granted an incredible clarity of perception. And to add insult to injury, she was moving slower than before, clearly taking it easy—or maybe it was because she didn't need her speed. His tentacles hovered behind him, all holding a kunai each. He used them for feints, but not one of them worked. She completely ignored them until he actually made an attack. He raised his foot for a front kick, and she immediately backed just out of range, only it was a Second Form augmented kick, but the moment the chakra converged in his sole, ready to rush out, she stepped out of its way.
She placed her hand just above the path of the chakra expulsion, feeling the gust of wind moved by the chakra with her finger. It was the kind of thing she could do in a fight against an opponent who had been overwhelming her just a few moments ago.
His fist slammed down harder, chakra building a powerful augmentation, anger building in his tenketsu pathways with each missed strike. He swung for her head, she bobbed under it, stepped closer, and hit him in the chin with an uppercut.
The worst part of it was that he knew she wasn't coming for a follow-up to capitalise on his situation. She was going to wait until he was in a state where he couldn't defend himself before attacking.
At that moment, he made a decision.
Half of the round had passed, ninety more seconds until the end. Both of them had been pacing themselves, from stamina to supplies to chakra, because they knew they had multiple rounds to fight with very short breaks between them; they had to preserve themselves to remain viable in the later rounds. Resource management was a critical part of combat that every shinobi had to consider in one way or another.
She had momentarily stopped pacing herself at the end of the fourth round to turn things around.
He was going to do that because things were looking worse for him than he expected. He had underestimated the combatant potency of the Sharingan; he had underestimated her by thinking she would be in the second stage at most, but she had brought out the full matured dōjutsu, which meant a lot because each stage came with a qualitative jump.
The moment he got ready to move, she immediately leapt back—he couldn't even surprise her, that's how well she was reading him—to get herself a moment of delay as he turned into a blur. In a span of seconds, he launched nearly ten strikes, each received by her palms as if they were doing a pads session in the gym.
However, the change was instantly evident. She not only got faster to accommodate the swell in speed, but also began to move around more to contend with his barrage. Her eyes themselves looked more lively, bouncing around as he came from everywhere.
He took advantage of her penchant for dodging with minimal movement and slammed an augmented foot near her foot. With her Sharingan, she knew he was going to hit, so she didn't shift her foot away; instead, she turned her attention to how she was going to counter. His foot smashed the ground around it into a crater, throwing her off balance. But even as she awkwardly stumbled, her eyes remained fixed on him, ready for him. He wasn't done. The tentacles moved, going in with their kunai. And while she made her moves to protect against them, his hand moved like a lightning bolt, hitting her straight in the gut—and her eyes followed it as it went. It didn't matter if she could see it if she didn't have the means to protect herself.
It felt so good! A grin stretched on his face. It wasn't even an augmentation, but it felt solid.
As she fell to the ground but was quick to recover, he was weaving hand seals. If she no longer considered the tentacles a threat, then he had something perfect for her appetite.
Lightning Release: Shock
His first ninjutsu sparked into life in his palm before he poured all of its volatile energy into the tentacles. The shaped water rippled and emitted an ominous, deep hum.
She got faster again, actively avoiding the aggressive tentacles because a touch from them would unload the charge into her body. It was only a D-rank jutsu's worth of charge, but most Lightning Release ninjutsu had some level of stun property in them—and with how aggressively he was being, she didn't want to be stunned even for a moment.
Almost immediately, they went from fighting in a spot to clashing around the field. He pushed harder—faster, stronger—even as she tried to put some space between them; he stuck to her, not giving her a moment to breathe. To her credit, she managed to avoid the charged tentacles for the thirty-second of life, but in that time, he had managed to double the amount of hits he had gotten in. And in the end, they managed to pay in a greater way. Under pressure, she made a mistake and, while dodging the tentacles and, frustratingly, a Second Form augmentation, she opened her side.
He was almost impatient with how quickly he whipped his leg, hitting her in the same spot on the lower rib that was already hurting from the fourth round.
For the first time since activating her Sharingan, she looked remotely concerned before a flash of red pain lit up her face. Just one more good hit to the jaw and he could end it. However, as he went in for further punishment, her cloth weapon around her waist, streaked and managed to wrap itself around her ankle.
Before he knew it, his tentacles were holding him up instead of his legs.
And that's when the situation flipped as the lightning charge dissipated from the tentacles. There were only thirty seconds left in the round. Both of them gathered themselves and went at each other—he wanted to maintain his momentum until the end, and she wanted to return him to where he was before.
Both of them got up at the same time, shuffled from side to side to add in uncertainty, charging in with their bodies low as if they were going to tackle the legs before rising at the last moment for a quick first strike with a right hook.
The moment their fists met in the middle, a shiver went down his spine.
They were his movements.
The moment she took half a step back, he knew a low kick was coming his way. Though his mind knew it, his body couldn't keep up with the kick of surprise. As he predicted, she clipped him on the calf, just like he would if he were in her position.
No, he refused to believe it.
Using the tentacles to stabilise him, he went in for a fast combo. It was immediate; she shifted into Uchiha Interceptor Fist and deflected and dodged all of his hits, creating an opening. Her stance shifted again, causing his breathing to hitch. It was the Hidden Leaf Kata, his modified version of it. She threw a sharp elbow to his face, and when that missed, she used the same arm for a hook that smashed into his guard. Then came the aggression. She stepped on the pedal, not allowing any room to breathe. She opened his guard with two quick jabs and then slipped in a cross for his throat—something he had picked in the Ring and had shown her twice, both of which had been failures.
For a moment, she disappeared. Only her eyes remained, observing, peering into his soul to know his every secret.
Another switch, and she was back to herself. Her cloth weapon bit his wrist, rotating him to the right while she went left. It looked like a coordinated dance in how she performed it, as though she knew precisely how he would react in that moment.
With both her hands free, she weaved hand seals with his back to her.
Wind Release: Vortex Thrust
The rotating cylinder thrusted into the water mass, anchoring the tentacles to his back. The winds drilled into the mass, destabilising the water and causing the jutsu to fail. The water dropped from his back, splashing on his clothes, legs, and the ground.
He snapped out of his shock, not knowing what had hit him in the back. He jumped and moved to put some distance between them. He needed time to gather himself, forgetting that there were only ten seconds left in the round and began weaving hand seals. He fixed her in his gaze, adamant not to lose sight of her, only to see her raising her hands along with him.
The angle of the elbow bend, the distance between the hands and body, and the height his arms were raised—everything identical. He was staring at himself. He knew it was the absurd power of the Sharingan; he knew that this would happen once she activated her eyes, and yet, when faced with the absurdity, he couldn't accept it.
It was utterly shameful.
Before he knew, both of them had completed their hand seals at the same time. Their jutsu, however, were different.
Earth Release: Subterranean Voyage
Fire Release: Exploding Eagle Strike
As he slipped into the ground, a flaming eagle was conjured into existence before plunging towards him like a rocket with an accompanying screech, guaranteed to hit as he was trapped in the jutsu, unable to eject. However, halfway through its flight, something too fast to track hit the eagle, causing it to fizzle into a blinding-white blaze akin to that of burning magnesium.
A good distance away from them, Mikoto lowered her hand, crackling with remnant sparks of lightning.
"The fifth round is over…"
If she said anything else, he didn't know because he sank into the ground.
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The link is in the synopsis!