"M-me…?!"
Haruno Sakura pointed a trembling finger at her own chest, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Her? Fight?
Her arsenal consisted of academy-level taijutsu, a handful of basic ninja tools, and a recently-acquired tolerance for pain from training with Might Guy. She was support, not a front-line fighter!
"Yeah, you!" Naruto and Sasuke chorused, their expressions a mix of encouragement and "it's your turn" finality.
'Idiot Sakura! Sasuke-kun is watching! Didn't you want to impress him? This is your moment!' The more assertive, inner voice in her head screamed, pushing her forward. 'Look at him! He's coughing! He looks half-dead! One good kick and he'll be done!'
For Sasuke, the logic was simple. The newcomer wore the same Otogakure attire as the tattooed four, but his pallor and frail posture marked him as the weakest link. A perfect warm-up for their least experienced member.
"I… I'll do it!" Sakura bit her lip, the desire to prove herself—especially under Sasuke's gaze—overwhelming her fear. She flipped a kunai into a reverse grip, took a deep breath, and charged!
Kimimaro watched the pink-haired genin's headlong, telegraphed rush with detached bemusement. Standard protocol was a probing volley of shuriken. A direct, clumsy lunge was… amateurish. But close-quarters combat was his element. He didn't move, his sickly exterior belying the predator within.
Sakura, seeing him standing defenseless, her kunai aimed straight for his heart, felt a surge of triumph. 'I've got him!'
CLINK!
The sound of metal striking something far harder than flesh jolted her back to reality. Her eyes bulged. Protruding from Kimimaro's side, a stark white rib bone had pierced through his own skin and clothing, parrying her strike with effortless ease. He hadn't even shifted his footing.
'What kind of monster…?!' Panic surged. Instinct took over. She disengaged in a backward leap, putting distance between them. If close combat was impossible, she'd use her true strength: precision.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
A fan of ten shuriken, thrown with practiced grace, sliced through the air. They didn't aim for the body, but arced towards Kimimaro's eyes and other exposed, non-bony areas—the tactics of a thinker, not a brawler.
Kimimaro didn't even bother with his bones. A casual, almost lazy wave of his hand batted the incoming projectiles aside as if they were gnats.
"Is this all? You don't even have the right to make me dance," he said, his voice flat and cold, his gaze reducing her to insignificance.
"It's not over!" Sakura yelled, her pride stung. Her hands became a blur. More shuriken flew, but these followed complex, interweaving trajectories. Mid-air, they collided with deft, calculated impacts, their angles shifting unpredictably. Invisible chakra threads, spun with a finesse born of endless, lonely practice, guided them into a deadly, crisscrossing net.
"Not bad," Sasuke murmured, a flicker of genuine appraisal in his eyes. Her shurikenjutsu control was refined, possibly even surpassing his own in pure technical skill. They were teammates, after all. There was a bond, however frayed.
Encouraged by his glance, Sakura redoubled her efforts. Without a kekkei genkai or bijuu, mastery of a single, practical skill was her only path.
"Petty tricks," Kimimaro dismissed again. His palm split open, and a long, wicked bone blade slid out. With motions almost too fast to follow, he deflected or shattered every single shuriken, the ping-ping-ping of metal on bone filling the air. "Good control, poor choice of target. If that's your limit… perish."
He raised an index finger. A sharp, white tip began to protrude from the fingertip.
"I said… it's NOT over yet!" Sakura's eyes narrowed, a desperate, cunning plan forming. She hurled her last few shuriken and the kunai in her hand once more.
But this throw was different. They didn't fly towards Kimimaro's front. Instead, they arced high and wide, shooting past him on either side.
"Heh. Missed." Kimimaro's lip curled in derision.
His smirk froze half a second later. His eyes widened in shock and outrage. The projectiles that had flown behind him hadn't fallen to the ground. Guided by her chakra threads, they had executed a sharp, U-turn. The spinning kunai, in particular, shot forward with pinpoint accuracy towards a target he had, in his arrogance, left completely unguarded.
THWACK!
"GYAH—!" A pained, choked gasp escaped Kimimaro's lips. He staggered forward a step. The kunai hadn't penetrated deeply—his body's natural toughness saw to that—but the location… the violation of it! It had struck squarely, embedding itself in his rear!
"YES! I did it!" Sakura pumped her fist, elation washing over her.
From his vantage point, Raimon facepalmed, a long sigh escaping him. "Even this one…? Has my influence truly corrupted the entire next generation?"
He was unaware that across the shinobi world, black-ops divisions were now dedicating entire research budgets to "rapid, covert, posterior-centric engagement tactics." Iwa ninja were attempting to reverse-engineer the Kidney Stone Jutsu with decidedly mixed and far less catastrophic results.
Kimimaro slowly turned around, his previously empty eyes now blazing with cold, murderous fury. The kunai dropped from his body, clattering to the ground. "You… will die. Painfully."
He didn't shout. The calm was more terrifying. He thrust both hands forward. "Shikotsumyaku: Jūppo Sasarī!" (Dead Bone Pulse: Ten-Finger Drilling Bullets!)
Ten finger bones shot from his hands like high-velocity rifle rounds, whistling toward the celebrating Sakura.
There was no time to dodge fully. Sakura crossed her arms in a desperate guard over her head and vitals.
THUD-THUD-THUD!
Three bone spikes hammered into her forearms and shoulders. The incredible force lifted her off her feet and hurled her backward. She crashed into the trunk of a massive tree with a sickening crunch, slumping to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.
"SAKURA-CHAN!" Naruto's triumphant mood shattered. He was by her side in a flash, fingers searching for a pulse. The romantic infatuation was gone, but she was his comrade. "She's breathing! But she's hurt bad!"
Sasuke was at her side a moment later, his Sharingan quickly assessing the damage. Non-fatal, but severe.
"Not dead yet?" Kimimaro's voice was a deadly whisper as he strode toward the fallen kunoichi, a fresh bone spike growing from his wrist. He would impale the one who dared such an insult.
"You… are becoming annoying."
Sasuke's voice cut through the tension. He stepped forward, placing himself between Kimimaro and his fallen teammate, his hands casually in his pockets. While Sakura had been fighting, he'd had Naruto 'recharge' him. He was back at full capacity, and a cold anger simmered beneath his cool exterior.
"So, you're the vessel Lord Orochimaru desires," Kimimaro observed, his eyes locking onto Sasuke's crimson Sharingan. The legendary dōjutsu. He wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating this one. "For the sake of Lord Orochimaru's dream, I will show you the utmost respect."
No more words. Kimimaro's body darkened as the Cursed Seal of Earth spread across his skin in circuit-like patterns—Level One. His chakra spiked violently, and his sickly aura was replaced by one of primal menace. Bone spikes began to sprout from his joints and shoulders, turning him into a living porcupine. Then, with a grotesque, wet sound, the vertebrae in his neck and upper back writhed. He reached behind his own head, gripped something, and pulled.
With a slick, horrifying tear, he drew his own spine from his body, the bone lengthening and morphing into a sleek, deadly blade.
"What the hell?! He pulled out his own spine?!" Naruto gaped, horrified. "Shouldn't he be a puddle on the ground?!"
"Hmph. Another rare bloodline limit," Sasuke sneered, though his Sharingan recorded every detail with clinical precision. The shinobi world was full of such freaks. The Uchiha's Sharingan, the Hyūga's Byakugan, the Shodai's Mokuton—they all stood above the rest.
He didn't wait for Kimimaro to make the first move. Blue-white lightning erupted in his right palm, coalescing not into a simple spear, but into the familiar, barbed, piston-action nightmare he had perfected. The high-speed rotation created a buzzing, grinding whine that promised internal devastation.
"Let's see how your bones hold up against this." Sasuke's voice was low, a predator's growl.
"Raiton Hiden: Chidori Senbon – Shi o Yobu Rōga Chō Shūshuku Yari!"