Squad Three moved like a shadow on a mission.
Samui kept the lead pace steady; Omoi matched her rhythm with restless, nervous grace. Kaien skated along the flank, eyes flicking to every tree and brush line. Atsuro's insect scouts trailed ahead, tiny bioluminescent points of light that hummed like breath in the night.
Omoi: "We're traveling pretty fast."
Atsuro: "Yes. With my hives up, I don't sense any team near us. We have a straight shot to the rendezvous."
Samui: "Don't get cocky. Insects have blind spots. Stay sharp."
Kaien's thoughts lurked on the edge of his mind, nowhere near the mission clock.
I don't want this to end before I get to fight Daichi. Where is he? he thought, jaw tightening.
They entered the dried creek that funneled the forest into a narrow pass — a lane of fallen roots and slick leaves. It was perfect for moving fast and keeping formation tight. It was also perfect for an ambush.
Half a mile upstream, four shadows crouched among moss and bramble, faces painted in smear of soot and fear. Squad Two had the pass mapped, the lines of movement measured. Mizue's fingers rested on her hidden threads, listening to the faint breath of insects through the air. Riku's hands cupped a shallow pool he'd prepared; the water lay calm, waiting. Tetsuo smoothed the net under a rotting log, a chakrified weave that would snag and tangle. Daichi pressed his back into a shallow pit, muscles coiled like springs.
Mizue (whisper): "They're on schedule. Hives moving at point-three cadence."
She flicked a silent thread along the insect lane — a micro sealing thread meant to jam Atsuro's insect signaling for a heartbeat. It would only be enough to confuse, not destroy.
Mizue's pulse dropped. She triggered the micro-seal.
Atsuro's insect hum stuttered. One by one the little lights blinked and wavered — a tremor ran through their pattern. Atsuro frowned, lifting his head.
Atsuro: "Hives— they… skipped a beat."
Samui: "Assess."
Omoi's hand tightened on his kunai. He strained his senses, that taut second of silence ringing wrong. That was the first crack in Squad Two's plan.
Mizue's face went pale; the micro-jam worked longer than she expected. She cursed under her breath and triggered the next phase: Riku breathed life into the creek pocket.
Water hissed into the leaf litter farther down the lane, a thin mist crawling up like a creeping shadow. Not a flood — just enough to make footing treacherous. The front of the pass would become a patch of slick leaves and hidden roots.
Tetsuo moved. He popped the log; the net whipped free in a taught arc and sailed toward Kaien's relay line.
But Omoi had already noticed. The insect stutter and the hiss of water — the two anomalies painted a pattern in his head. He looked up and saw the arc of netting.
Omoi (shouting): "Net! Left!"
Kaien's reaction was instant. Mabui training made his chakra a blade of thought: a pulse of transmitted balance through his limbs. He sidestepped with a carved grace that let the net sail past — not clean, but enough. The net snagged the air and then caught the sleeve of Omoi's cloak as he twisted to place a blocking strike.
The weave wrapped around Omoi's arm instead, dragging him off-kilter. He stumbled, blade flashing as he slashed to free himself. The net flared with seals — designed to inhibit flow — but without a weight seal the effect was less crippling, more entangling. Omoi jerked free with a spray of leaves, face set.
At that instant, Daichi exploded from his pit.
He didn't come for Kaien — he came for the nearest threat. With a roar he barreled into the scene, fists like hammers. His target: the flung, stunned form of Omoi.
Omoi's reflexes were honed; he met the charge not with the neat riposte Samui might have wanted, but with the raw dance of blades and momentum. The two collided in a shock of sound — wood and metal, grunts and the slap of a palm on a forearm. Sparks flew off a thrown kunai as Daichi's momentum met Omoi's blade.
Samui's voice was a cold bell in the sudden chaos. "Hold!" she ordered, but that single command was swallowed by the crack of action.
Mizue used the distraction to attempt her sensory damp — a soft whisper of genjutsu around the edges of Samui's perception, an auditory smudge meant to give Tetsuo the window he needed. Tetsuo lunged left, eyes on the scroll-bearing flank, ready to rip at packs and seize the prize if the opening came.
Atsuro scrambled, barking commands into his insects' faltering network. His hives buzzed back to life in fits and starts, less reliable than before but functional enough that he could see small shimmering points reorient toward Kaien — and Kaien saw them too.
Kaien's mouth tightened. He should've been trapped; instead he found himself meeting the eyes of Daichi dead on. For a heartbeat — two — everything slowed. Mist curled at ankle height. Leaves hung mid-descent. The plan had nearly worked; the creek had slipped, the jam had staggered the scouts, the net had flown — but it had not broken Kaien.
Both squads froze in the charged stillness of that next moment — breath loud, spines taut. Soldiers on either side recalibrated.
Samui stepped forward, hand hovering over the scroll at her hip. Tetsuo adjusted his grip on the chakrified net, Daichi peeling back, chest heaving. Mizue's eyes shone with frustrated calculation. Riku's water pocket shivered like a restrained animal.
They were inches apart in an invisible circle of potential violence: four against four. Each member's breath was a metronome, each muscle a spring. The forest air tasted of ozone and wet leaves and the metallic tang of nervous adrenaline.
Samui (low, to her squad): "Positions."
Tetsuo (quiet): "Now."
And like two drawn blades, both teams locked eyes across the narrow pass.
For a second the world narrowed to the space between them — a dozen heartbeats, a dozen choices. Then the silence shattered into the tangle of shouts and chakra as both sides readied for the fight.
The ambush had almost worked. The plan had cracked. Now the only thing left to do was fight.
Kaien's eyes locked onto Daichi — sharp, furious, unblinking. His chakra flared bright and fast, arcs of electricity crawling across his limbs like living veins.
Without a word, he launched forward, the forest floor cracking beneath his heel.
Kaien (thinking): I've waited for this.
He leapt — body twisting midair, hand signs flashing in a blur.
Kaien: "Lightning Release — Spark Step! (雷遁・閃歩!)"
Electricity surged around his legs, humming with contained violence. The air snapped with ozone as he whipped into a flying kick aimed straight at Daichi's chest.
Daichi reacted instantly, slamming his hands together in a practiced sequence.
Daichi: "Earth Release — Harden Skin! (土遁・硬膚!)"
A dull brown glow coated his forearms, minerals hardening like armor beneath his skin. He braced, arms crossed.
Kaien's kick crashed into the guard with a sharp crack!
The impact shook the air — lightning scattering across Daichi's stone-like arms before bursting apart in blue sparks.
For a split second, Daichi held.
Then the mineral coating shattered — fragments of dirt and chakra flaking away.
Kaien smirked, landing lightly.
Kaien: "Tch. Did you really think your pathetic Earth style could match mine? You that much of a brick head you don't know Lightning shatters Earth?"
Daichi said nothing. His jaw tightened — quiet, simmering.
Kaien didn't wait. The sparks still dancing around his legs reignited, feeding into his next motion.
He darted forward, a blur of light.
His heel swept for Daichi's head — fast, graceful, lethal.
Daichi ducked under it.
His hand shot up, catching the back of Kaien's shirt mid-spin — and with a growl, he slammed him into the dirt.
The ground shuddered.
Kaien's breath exploded from his lungs as the impact cratered the soil beneath him.
Daichi raised a fist, ready to crush him—
—but Kaien's body flickered into smoke.
Daichi: "Tch—Substitution."
He spun on instinct—
—and a fist exploded across his jaw.
The blow cracked like thunder, snapping his head sideways. But Daichi barely flinched, spitting blood and glaring back at the smirking Kaien.
Kaien: "You hit hard. Too bad I'm faster."
He dashed back, reactivating Spark Step. Lightning trailed behind him in bursts as he began weaving around Daichi — close, then gone — feinting, striking, retreating before Daichi could answer.
Omoi (watching from a distance): "He's using hit-and-run patterns. Typical Mabui speed tactics."
Kaien's plan was simple: strike, vanish, repeat — until Daichi's defenses fell apart.
But Daichi was already adapting.
He pressed his hands to the ground, his chakra sinking deep into the soil.
Daichi: "You're fast… but you still need footing."
He slammed his palms down.
Daichi: "Earth Release — Ground Ripple! (土遁・地波!)"
A pulse erupted outward, warping the battlefield beneath their feet. The earth trembled and rolled like a living wave. Trees shivered. Kaien stumbled, lightning flickering at his legs as his chakra faltered trying to find balance.
Daichi's hands flashed again.
Daichi: "Earth Release — Pebble Shot! (土遁・礫弾!)"
His palms snapped forward, firing a barrage of compacted stones. They tore through the air like sling bullets.
Kaien tried to weave aside, but the unstable ground betrayed him — his stance slipped.
The first pebble grazed his cheek; the next cracked into his shoulder, then another struck his knee. Sparks scattered as his focus broke.
Kaien (thinking): Damn it—!
He hit the ground hard, knees scraping rock, lightning fizzling away.
Daichi didn't hesitate. He surged forward, chakra flooding into his limbs until his movements blurred. Each footstep cratered the soil.
Daichi (roaring): "Got you now!"
He cocked his arm back, the weight of the earth itself seeming to gather behind his fist—
—and as he closed in, the two elements clashed again:
lightning sparking against stone, anger meeting endurance.
The next moment would decide which element — and which will — broke first.
Lightning and earth tore across the clearing like living forces of nature.
Kaien moved first.
He shot forward in a surge of light — every nerve blazing with speed. His hand signs blurred until they vanished.
Kaien: "Transmission Style — Flash Relay Strike! (伝遞術・閃光連撃!)"
Lightning burst from his body in chains of raw voltage, each step propelling him faster than sight. He ricocheted off trees and rock walls, each movement leaving a glowing trail — a circuit of motion too fast to predict.
Kaien (thinking): He won't touch me this time. I'll hit him from every angle until he breaks.
Daichi stood still, eyes tracking nothing but the vibrations beneath his feet. His chakra pulsed downward — steady, calm, patient.
The ground began to hum.
Daichi: "Earth Release — Stone Rise."
Pillars erupted from the ground, intercepting the arcs of lightning as Kaien flashed between them.
Sparks exploded, trees split, and Kaien burst through the debris, teeth clenched, still closing the distance.
Kaien: "Too slow!"
He spun, heel charged with lightning, and kicked.
The impact shattered Daichi's raised arm guard — lightning splintering rock and dirt in a flash.
Daichi slid back, dust curling around his feet.
But when the smoke cleared, he was still standing — his forearms cracked, smoking, but unbroken.
Daichi (grimly): "Your lightning's fast… but it doesn't hit deep enough."
Kaien snarled and poured more chakra into his body.
His Transmission marks flared down his neck and arms — the full might of his clan's speed coursing through him.
The forest around him blurred.
Kaien: "Then I'll hit you so fast you can't even react!"
He vanished.
A burst of ozone cracked the air — one step, two, three — flickering angles of light surrounding Daichi in a lightning cage.
Omoi (watching, whispering): "He's chaining his Spark Step… he's burning himself out!"
Kaien reappeared behind Daichi, foot wreathed in lightning, face twisted in determination and rage.
Kaien: "Transmission Style — Synapse Blitz!"
He struck—
But Daichi's voice cut through the roar.
Daichi: "Earth Release — Tremor Palm!"
The ground erupted.
A seismic shockwave burst from Daichi's palm, rippling through the soil like an earthquake.
Kaien's step hit the quake at full speed — his footing disintegrated, momentum twisting into chaos. Lightning surged wild, uncontrolled.
He flew past his mark, eyes wide, balance lost.
Daichi didn't waste the opening.
He turned with perfect timing and slammed his chakra-coated fist into Kaien's side.
CRACK!
The impact sent Kaien spinning through the air, his lightning flickering out as he hit the ground and rolled, dirt flying in clouds.
He skidded to a stop, coughing, his chakra fading in broken flashes.
Kaien (gasping): "N… no way…"
Daichi approached slowly, fists still humming faintly with residual chakra. His breathing was steady, his eyes calm.
He looked down at Kaien, who struggled to push himself up, face streaked with dust and frustration.
Daichi: "You're fast, Kaien. Faster than anyone I've fought."
He crouched slightly, voice even.
Daichi: "But speed doesn't matter if you can't control where you're going."
Kaien clenched his fists, lightning still twitching weakly around his arms. He wanted to shout, to deny it — but the truth hit harder than any punch.
His chakra sputtered and died out completely.
He slammed a fist into the dirt, teeth grit.
Kaien: "Damn it… not again."
Kaien: "Damn you, Daichi… I hate you… I hate you! I HATE YOU!"
The words tore from his throat like shattered glass.
Kaien's voice cracked—half scream, half sob—as his knees trembled beneath him. His body was a wreck of bruises and lightning burns, every muscle screaming for rest, but rage drowned out the pain.
He staggered forward, eyes wild, teeth clenched. His vision blurred, his breath came ragged, but he still tried to stand—had to stand. He couldn't let it end like this. Not against him.
Daichi simply turned away. No gloating, no cruelty. Just quiet indifference—as if Kaien wasn't even worth the effort anymore.
That broke something inside him.
Kaien: "Don't you dare turn your back on me, you bastard!"
His voice cracked again, desperate now. He charged, stumbling more than running, his fist glowing faintly with fading sparks of lightning. He swung with everything he had left—every ounce of pride, every drop of hatred.
His punch connected squarely with Daichi's jaw.
Nothing.
Daichi didn't even blink. His eyes stayed calm, steady—stone meeting storm.
Kaien froze. His arm hung mid-air, trembling. The faint crackle of lightning around his knuckles fizzled out. In that moment, all the noise in his head—the fury, the humiliation—collapsed into silence.
He wasn't fighting an opponent.
He was standing before a wall that wouldn't break.
For the first time in his life, Kaien felt fear.
Not of Daichi's strength—
But of his own weakness.
For a long moment, they just stood there.
Kaien panting, broken.
Daichi unmoving, calm.
Then Daichi slowly turned his head, meeting Kaien's eyes.
No anger.
No pride.
Just disappointment.
His voice was quiet—barely above a whisper, but heavy enough to crush the air between them.
Daichi: "…You still don't understand what strength is."
He turned back around and walked away.
No victory pose. No gloating.
Just quiet footsteps fading into the distance.
Kaien's hand fell limp at his side. For the first time, he wasn't angry—
He was empty.