The sky cracked open, mist rippling like a curtain torn by invisible claws. That lightning bolt — pure, jagged, and howling with destruction — roared across the sky in a lance of crackling white-blue death.
Sakura screamed. Sasuke finished and Tazuna's eyes widened in horror.
But Daigo Guretsu was already gone. One moment he was beside them, still as stone. The next — he wasn't.
In a blur that left only the barest echo of wind in his wake, Daigo had vanished from their side. Sasuke's eyes snapped up, Sharingan spinning.
"What—?!"
There.
Perched like a hawk on the bridge's high central support beam, Daigo crouched — not flinching — but calmly watching the oncoming lightning as if sizing up a dog about to bite.
And then he did something no one expected.
He drew his sword.
With one practiced grrk of steel against scabbard, Daigo unsheathed his blade, the black blade humming with chakra conductivity and drove it point-first into the concrete at his feet, embedding it deep like a grounding rod.
"No way—!" Sakura breathed, unable to comprehend.
"He's not dodging—!" Sasuke's voice was tight, uncertain.
Then the lightning struck.
KRAKABOOOOOOM!!
A column of light and energy slammed into Daigo with earth-splitting fury, splitting the clouds and shaking the entire bridge structure. Concrete cracked. Sparks exploded.
But there was no explosion.
There was no body flung into the sea.
There was no fiery death.
Instead…the lightning was getting pulled in.
Drawn like water down a funnel — into Daigo's body, chakra veins lighting up faintly beneath his skin, glowing across his tenketsu network. The charge danced through his torso, his arms, and finally—
—into his sword.
Okozai trembled with energy, humming like a living thing. The lightning, redirected by Daigo's own chakra, was siphoned through the steel and into the stone, grounded harmlessly with a deep, hissing crackle.
Steam and ozone filled the air.
Sasuke and Sakura stood frozen — stunned. Speechless. Tazuna was stunned but for a different reason. That reason being relief.
Across the water, Raiga Kurotsuki stood crouched on a jagged rock, his wild hair fluttering in the charged air. Beside him, Zabuza stared wordlessly at the result of the failed strike.
The former Kiri swordsman let out a low, amused whistle.
"Well I'll be damned…" Raiga chuckled, licking his lips like a predator spotting worthy prey.
"He didn't just survive it… he played with it. He redirected it."
Zabuza said nothing at first. His eyes were hard beneath the bandages.
Raiga grinned wide.
Zabuza grunted. "He's not a Konoha elite for nothing."
Raiga's eyes gleamed. "He's not even acting like a shinobi. Full-body acceptance of damage. No sleight of hand. That's raw technique. That's… delicious."
Zabuza eyed him. "You like him?"
"I want to rip him apart," Raiga answered with a manic grin. "But yeah. I like him."
And then they vanished.
A crack of motion, like thunder without the sound, as Raiga, Zabuza, and Haku shot forward in a burst of high-speed movement, kicking up water and steam in their wake.
To an untrained eye, it would look like teleportation but this was no Genjutsu. This was pure, honed velocity.
They appeared atop the highest stretch of the nearly completed bridge, mist curling at their feet like living fog.
On the opposite side, already waiting for them, stood Daigo Guretsu with Sasuke and Sakura flanking him, their kunai drawn, their chakra tense but focused. The bridge builder settled behind them, pale.
Steel met steel in the form of gazes. Words were secondary now. This was a standoff, predator against predator.
Daigo kept his usual slouched posture, blade resting over one shoulder, that ever-present, unnerving grin cutting across his face. His hair shifted faintly in the charged air, but his eyes were sharp, locked onto the man in front of him.
For a moment, no one spoke. Only the wind howled through the steel beams of the bridge. The mist thickened.
Then — Daigo's eyes met Raiga's.
"Well then…" Daigo's grin widened, teeth flashing, voice a relaxed drawl.
"If it ain't Raiga Kurotsuki."
Raiga arched a brow, chuckling darkly. "Didn't expect to be recognized that fast."
"Hard not to. You're the lunatic with the twin fangs and a storm complex," Daigo replied. "But I'll admit—" his tone turned a touch impressed, "even I didn't expect Zabuza to bring you of all people."
He shifted his gaze to Zabuza briefly, noting how the man held himself, sturdy, but... off-balance. The stance of a veteran who was forcing himself to be here. It confirmed Daigo's earlier suspicion.
"You're not in fighting condition, are you, Zabuza?" Daigo asked casually, though his eyes stayed locked on Raiga.
Zabuza didn't answer, he didn't have to.
"Which means…" Daigo glanced at the boy in the white mask beside him. "The masked kid's your backup. He's good. Took you out of the danger zone after I gutted you." He gave a short nod. "Respect."
Then his eyes flicked back to Raiga. A beat passed.
"Last I heard," Daigo said slowly, "you were listed as KIA during the war."
"Heh," Raiga snorted, adjusting the boy on his back — Ranmaru, nestled beneath the sack, unmoving but clearly present. "Reports of my death were exaggerated."
Daigo laughed.
"Must've been a hell of a night, then. Let me guess…" his grin sharpened.
"Might Dai, right? The Red Demon of Konoha. Gate-opener. Maniac in a green jumpsuit?"
Raiga's amused expression faltered just slightly. Zabuza tensed. Haku's posture shifted. Sasuke and Sakura though, they had no clue.
Daigo leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing.
"You were there. The night five of the Seven Swordsmen died. Only you and Jūzō got out. That right?"
For a second, just a flicker, the ghost of old pain crossed Raiga's face. Not fear. Not regret.
Survival.
"That bastard," Raiga muttered, more to himself. "That wasn't a ninja. That was a damn force of nature. We didn't fight him. We just tried to survive long enough to vanish."
Daigo chuckled.
"Yeah… sounds like Dai-san."
Sasuke and Sakura turned to their teacher, the 'san' itched itself into their brain. Their Sensei wasn't one for formalities, they've heard him call the Daimyo's wife an old lady. He just wasn't one for respecting customs, or people in general. Yet to call this unknown man with honorific?
Daigo's smirk dimmed slightly, though the glint in his eyes never faded.
"Destroying the bridge, though..." he said, shifting his stance slightly, sword still sheathed. "That might've been a little reckless."
The mist curled tighter as he spoke, almost leaning in to hear him.
"See, harming noble-funded infrastructure, especially one bearing the Daimyō's seal, that's not just bad business. That's a grave offense. Your employer? That rat-faced merchant?"Daigo's eyes glinted.
"He'd be buried before he could even whisper the word 'please.' And you two should know that."
The weight of Daigo's words settled over the bridge like a thundercloud.
Zabuza's expression twisted into a frown beneath his bandages. The full gravity of their misstep was dawning.
Then—
"You think I give a damn about that fat rat?" Zabuza snapped, finally sliding the Kubikiribōchō from his back with a grunt. The steel sang with hunger.
"I'm here to finish what I started."
He let the massive blade rest across his shoulder, bloodlust rising in his eyes.
Raiga chuckled lazily, arms loose at his sides, Kiba blades crackling faintly.
"Gato? Pfft." He waved dismissively. "That's Zabuza's gig. I'm just here to fight. Maybe swipe a few bills from his stash if he keels over."
Zabuza scoffed at that, not even dignifying the suggestion with a full response.
The mist swirled, more oppressive now — but Daigo remained still, eyes locked on them both. He was reading them like a book.
"That lightning attack…" Daigo mused. "That wasn't meant for the bridge, was it?"
He grinned slightly. "You knew I'd be there."
Raiga's grin widened. He didn't deny it.
"We knew you'd shield it. But we didn't expect that."
Zabuza said nothing, but the tension in his grip confirmed it. They'd misjudged.
Raiga raised an eyebrow, still watching Daigo's body posture.
"Even a trained Lightning-user can't just ground a foreign lightning stream. Not without riskin' a career-ending seizure in their chakra system. You try that with no experience? It fries you from the inside out."
"And even if you're good, really good, it still hurts like hell. That's why I've got these," he tapped the Kiba blades, "to channel it safe. Without 'em? Not worth the gamble."
Daigo just rolled his shoulder with a slight chuckle.
"Pain stopped being a problem a long time ago."
He looked up, staring straight through the haze.
"I adapt," he said simply. "To everything. That's how I live."
Behind him, Sasuke narrowed his eyes, remembering Daigo's teachings — his terrifying resistance training in ground 0, how he seemed to enjoy punishment.
'He let the lightning hit him on purpose… to control it his way. That kind of chakra control…'
Beside him, Sakura felt her heart race — but her hands were steady. She just can't get over how dumb and ridiculous her Sensei was.
Then Daigo's posture shifted.
He slowly drew Okozai from across its sheath, a subtle, precise motion, as if the sword itself breathed in the mist. A long, quiet sound like metal slicing through water.
Zabuza's eyes locked onto it instantly. His expression tightened. His senses sharpened.
Raiga, meanwhile, tilted his head in open curiosity.
"Hah... Now that's a beautiful piece of steel," Raiga muttered, his grin twitching wider. "Where'd you dig that up, Guretsu?"
"Oh you know, a blacksmith here, some unique ore there." Daigo replied casually, flicking the tip toward the ground. "It's one-of-a-kind, I'm sure the both of you understand."
Then Daigo tilted his head slightly, speaking to all of them now, but especially Zabuza.
"Let's cut the crap. You two aren't pawns. You're A-rank shinobi — killers, tacticians, survivors. You don't take jobs from fleas like Gato just for the cash.
"So tell me—why Wave?"
Zabuza didn't answer right away. His knuckles were white around his blade's hilt. Haku remained still, unreadable behind the mask.
Even Raiga looked sideways now.
Then—
"I told him I'd kill you," Zabuza said flatly, stepping forward, boots clanging on the steel.
"Doesn't matter if it's for a king or a roach. That's all it is."
"I said I'd do it."
"So I'll do it!"
His killing intent surged like a wave crashing against the bridge, and then—
He moved!
A blur of steel and chakra— Zabuza charged, the Kubikiribōchō slicing forward with lethal purpose, dragging mist in its wake.
Meanwhile,
The early sun filtered through the paper windows of Tazuna's modest home, painting the wooden floor in amber light.
Naruto Uzumaki snored loudly, face-down on the tatami mat, drooling onto his blanket.
"–Mmm, ramen… Sasuke, you can't have it…"
A sharp knock on the door jolted him slightly, but it wasn't until Tsunami's voice called out from the next room that he stirred.
"Naruto, you're still asleep? The others left an hour ago!"
His head shot up, messy blond hair sticking in all directions. He blinked rapidly.
"Huh?! WHAT?! They left without me?! AGAIN?!"
Tsunami peeked in, carrying a folded towel. Inari stood beside her, arms crossed and expression unimpressed.
"Your sensei and teammates went to the bridge early. Your sensei said today might be the last day of work. They wanted to finish it."
"Tch! I could've helped!" Naruto whined, scrambling to his feet and fumbling with his gear. "My Shadow Clones are perfect for that kind of thing! Ugh—Sasuke's such a show-off, bet he wanted to go early and do everything himself…"
Tsunami stifled a laugh behind her hand while Inari cracked a small smile.
"You really think they left early just to one-up you?" Inari said.
"I know they did," Naruto grumbled, strapping on his kunai pouch with aggressive energy.
Just then—the front door exploded open. Wood splintered. Boots stomped. Steel clanged.
Thirty armed men, mercenaries in mismatched gear and mean expressions, surged into the house like a tide of violence.
Tsunami let out a scream, pulling Inari behind her—too shocked to move fast enough.
But Naruto?
He snapped into action instantly. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
POOF!
A dozen Narutos filled the hallway in a heartbeat, more appearing every second. The entire front of the house was suddenly clogged with blond-haired shinobi, kunai drawn and eyes blazing.
They moved like a wall.
Three rows thick, the clones encircled Tsunami and Inari, shielding them in a living turtle-shell phalanx. The front row blocked the attackers, the second row braced behind them, and the third row stood overhead on the ceiling and walls—defenders on every front.
"Get AWAY from them, you creeps!" shouted the frontmost Naruto, grinning with wild defiance.
The mercenaries hesitated, snarling and barking orders. One lunged in.
CLANG.
He was parried and knocked back with a clean shoulder tackle from a clone. Another tried to slip past—only to be kicked into the wall by a ceiling-clone.
"Hah! That's right! Gato should've sent better men to take on the great Naruto Uzumaki!"
He struck a heroic pose even as his clone double behind him slugged a bandit into a cabinet.
Tsunami blinked from inside the shield of bodies—half-terrified, half-amused. Was he seriously posing right now?
Inari, meanwhile, looked up at Naruto with wide eyes. That loudmouth idiot… he was fighting back without hesitation. Protecting them.
Just like Dad…
The fighting continued for another minute. The clones worked like a unit — deflecting, disarming, and overwhelming the thugs. One by one, the mercenaries were knocked out, dog-piled, or strung up with wire. A few clones disappeared from damage, but for every one dispelled, two more appeared to hold the line.
Then — two of the last men broke formation and ran for the back kitchen. One tossed a flaming torch toward a pile of wood.
"If we can't get the woman—burn the place down!"
"LIKE HELL YOU WILL!"
Naruto launched himself across the room with a chakra-enhanced leap. He kicked one thug out cold, spun mid-air, and doused the fire with a splash of water from a storage barrel his clone had already opened.
"Nice try! You're not hurting ANYONE today!"
The scene slowed. The thugs? Defeated. The house? Intact. Tsunami and Inari? Safe.
Naruto stood with his arms crossed, breathing a little heavy but still grinning as his clones finished tying up the groaning mercenaries.
Inari looked up at him — really looked this time.
The way he stood, the way he cracked jokes even in danger, the way he never hesitated…
He looked just like Kaiza.
"Alright!" Naruto dusted his hands and turned to them. "You guys need to go hide somewhere safe. Maybe in the village down the hill — somewhere with other people."
"What about you?" Tsunami asked, still holding Inari protectively.
"Me?" Naruto gave a fox-like grin, backing toward the door. "I've got a bridge to get to. My team's probably having all the fun without me!"
He turned to run, but paused briefly in the doorway.
"Don't worry. I'll be back for dinner!"
And then — he was gone, sprinting toward the mist-covered bridge in the distance.
Back to the bridge,
The clash began not with words, but with steel.
Zabuza came roaring in with Kubikiribōchō swinging wide, the cleaver shrieking through the air. No silent killing this time—he knew it would be wasted on Daigo. The two blades met in a thunderous crash of metal.
Sparks danced from the edge of Zabuza's legendary sword, grinding against Daigo's black blade, a weapon with no name but a reputation all its own.
Zabuza's arms trembled from the force, his bones howling—but he didn't flinch. Daigo only grinned.
For a second, they remained locked. One second of snarling breath and pressure and raw strength.
Then came the shift.
"Hidden Mist Jutsu!" Raiga's voice rang out behind them, followed by a hiss that swallowed the world.
The bridge vanished in fog and so did Zabuza
Daigo frowned immediately. This wasn't the same as Zabuza's mist—no, this was different. Inferior in craft, yes… but strange. It wasn't simply obscuring visibility. It was resisting him.
His Shingan Kairo (God-eye circuit) pulsed outward. He could still feel Zabuza and Raiga, but something… no—someone was interfering. The boy in the burlap sack. His chakra wasn't large, but it was sharp and twisting through the mist like wire.
'So the crippled one's the sensor blocker,' Daigo mused, even as he tracked movement. 'Crafty.'
Both swordsmen struck.
Raiga led, streaking out of the fog with a manic grin and Kiba blades arcing with lightning. Zabuza came from the opposite side, water already forming into spears and slicing currents. It was a pincer—classical, well-timed, deadly.
Daigo met them head-on.
He ducked under Raiga's horizontal slash, parried with his sword—only for Raiga's lightning to halt upon contact. No conduction, no rebound, nothing.
Raiga's grin cracked.
"The hell kind of sword is that?" he barked, leaping back as Zabuza covered him with a jet of slicing water. Daigo blocked again, feet skidding slightly—but unmoved.
"Oh my bad, see this blade is kinda picky when it involves lightning, or any element for that matter," Daigo chuckled.
From the fog, Raiga scowled. The Kiba blades were chakra conduits, not just lightning foci. Every time he fought another shinobi, their weapons either shattered or fizzled.
This one… absorbed nothing. It denied the chakra outright. That was more than dangerous—it was an unfair advantage.
Raiga growled. That thing ain't normal, and neither is the bastard holding it.
Daigo, meanwhile, twirled the blade lightly, relaxed in stance but wild in grin. "So what's the plan, boys? We do this all day or does someone bleed soon?"
Both men vanished again and then the fog erupted with strikes—lightning crashing, water surging, metal clanging. Raiga and Zabuza weaved hit-and-run tactics through the mist, vanishing and appearing, timing perfectly, forcing Daigo to remain in motion. But he never lost track. Not fully.
His God-Eye Circuit blazed like a sun in his head. Even in this distorted mist, even with the boy's chakra working against him, he felt them. Like wolves circling.
Daigo met every attack with brutal efficiency—dodging, blocking, countering. His blade carved sparks from Kiba without letting it surge. Raiga's usual tricks weren't working. Zabuza's water Jutsu had force, but Daigo danced between them like a blade of grass in the wind.
Nearby, a clash broke out.
Sasuke had broken from the formation, intercepted by a blur—Haku. The masked shinobi danced around him, senbon flying in waves. Sasuke didn't fall behind.
He had the Sharingan and he had speed.
Every senbon was met with a deflection or a dodge. His counterattacks were sharp, precise. Haku could feel it, this boy was no longer someone to toy with. He was chasing, pressuring, forcing Haku to elevate.
Meanwhile, Sakura had retreated with Tazuna, forming a protective line behind the crates and beams near the edge of the bridge, kunai out, heart pounding. She was focused, scanning for threats, fulfilling her role with razor attention.
Back in the mist—
Daigo's laughter echoed, deep and coarse, as he parried a dual assault, sending Zabuza staggering and forcing Raiga into retreat with a downward kick that shattered part of the bridge's guardrail.
"You two are good," Daigo said. "Tag-team style. Real shinobi shit."
Zabuza steadied his breathing. Raiga panted beside him.
The fog hissed and rolled, but the pressure eased momentarily. Across the mist-veiled bridge, Raiga and Zabuza backed off a few paces, blades still raised, postures tight.
Zabuza's eyes flicked toward Raiga without turning his head. "Something on your mind?"
Raiga didn't answer at first. His Kiba blades crackled faintly in the fog. Then his voice came low, but distinct—laced with suspicion and curiosity.
"Ranmaru gave me a scan," he said. "Kid took a peek inside that bastard."
Zabuza's brow twitched, attention sharpening.
Raiga continued, "His body's a damn fortress. Muscles dense as stone, but the freaky part's his chakra network. He's got reserves, sure, LARGE ones—but it's not just that. It's what his chakra's doing."
Zabuza glanced at him now.
"There's a layer around his body. A thin chakra veil. Most wouldn't see it unless they're Hyuga or better. It's not just for boosting strength or speed—it's recycling his chakra. Every bit of output, every breath, every clash—it loops back. He barely wastes any."
Zabuza's frown deepened. "So that's why he's not slowing down."
"Exactly. While we're burning fuel, he's burning steam. Efficient, precise… relentless."
And across the mist, Daigo laughed. It was low at first—a deep, rumbling chuckle. Then louder. Then sharper.
"Keh... Damn," he muttered, amused. "You really got someone in that sack, huh?"
He wasn't taunting. He sounded genuinely impressed.
"That little runt read me better than most Hyuga. Most people just think I'm built like a beast. Almost no one sees the why."
Daigo stepped forward, his black blade casually dragging against the concrete. "You know how many times I've fought chakra sensors and left them scratching their heads? Even the old man—Hiruzen—couldn't quite figure it out. But that kid… he gets it."
The mist thickened again as tension returned.
Daigo's grin didn't fade. "I'm flattered, Raiga. That brat of yours has sharp eyes."
Raiga said nothing. But his gaze sharpened.
Zabuza didn't look away from Daigo. "So… what now?"
Daigo's knuckles cracked.
"Now?" he said, raising his sword. "Now I will show you what it looks like when the engine runs hot."
The mist trembled.
The Bridge – Southern End
The clashing of blades echoed through the mist, the heavy roars of Raiga's lightning and Zabuza's water techniques blasting in the distance. But at the southern end of the bridge, the fog wasn't silent either. It hummed with the sound of rapid movement—shuriken, kunai, and feet on stone.
Sasuke and Haku darted around the bridge like shadows. Blurs of motion. Steel on senbon. Water cuts the air.
Sasuke's Sharingan burned with clarity—tracking Haku's elegant, silent movements. He weaved through the battlefield, ducked past senbon, and closed in with brutal precision. Haku was fast, but so was he. Faster, maybe.
His training under Daigo had honed his body into a live wire of muscle and reflex, but Haku was no amateur. Despite Sasuke's speed, the masked shinobi was keeping up, reading him, even staying one step ahead in certain beats.
Then it came.
"Water Style: Thousand Needles of Death!"
Sasuke's eyes widened. The mist drew sharp, chilling. Hundreds of thin, gleaming ice-like needles burst from the water droplets surrounding them, glittering as they rained down like a vengeful sky.
Sasuke tried to leap, but a moment too late.
Shhk!
A gasp escaped him as a dozen needles struck his limbs, pinning him midair. Blood splattered the wet concrete beneath. His body hit the ground with a thud.
"SASUKE!!" Sakura screamed, taking a step forward.
Tazuna grabbed her arm. "No—wait!"
The Uchiha boy lay still, unmoving, eyes blank, blood trailing from his lips. The sound of falling mist filled the space like an eerie lullaby.
Haku exhaled slowly, visibly saddened behind his cracked mask. "A shinobi must carry burdens like these. I'm sorry."
He turned, softly, to face Sakura and Tazuna—his senbon rising in his hands.
"Please don't fight. I don't want to hurt you too."
Sakura gritted her teeth, fists trembling. Her knees buckled in hesitation, but then she rose, stepping protectively before Tazuna, kunai in hand, eyes glistening.
"You'll have to go through me."
Haku's voice dropped. "I don't want to... but I will."
The mist tensed.
Then—crack!
"AGH!"
A loud smash echoed as Haku's mask fractured from a sudden, brutal impact. His body was launched sideways, flipping through the air, crashing into a pile of construction crates.
From the mist, Sasuke emerged, stepping forward with a calm smirk, a thin trail of steam rising off his shoulder.
"You let your guard down."
Sakura's mouth dropped open. What? He's okay?!
Sakura snapped her head towards the 'body'.
On the ground—Sasuke's body—melted into water, the blood vanishing with it. A clone?!
Haku groaned from the ground, blood trailing from his lip. He wiped it with the back of his hand, his cracked mask hanging from his face in shards before falling down.
"You… you used a Water Clone," he said, standing slowly.
"I saw Zabuza do it. Figured I could too." Sasuke's smirk tightened. "Guess I was right."
Haku looked at him quietly—eyes unreadable—then nodded. "Impressive. You tricked me. Very few can."
Sasuke shifted his stance again, ready for more.
Haku's eyes closed… and then opened, colder now, resolved.
"…Then I'll stop holding back."
He raised his hand.
"Ice Release: Demonic Mirroring Ice Crystals."
The air dropped in temperature instantly. Mirrors of solid ice erupted around them in a perfect dome, refracting light and chakra alike. Within a second, Haku's body appeared in each reflection, every mirror hosting an identical, flickering presence.
Sasuke's eyes narrowed as the mirrors sealed him in and Multiple Haku's manifested in each mirror, many of them with a handful of Senbon.
"Let's see how far your eyes can really see…"
A sudden gust of wind exploded through the battlefield—violent, sharp, and unnaturally charged. It didn't come from Sasuke or Haku, but from deeper within the mist, back toward the heart of the bridge… where Daigo was still clashing with Raiga and Zabuza.
The cold air shifted, whipping around Sakura's hair and making her flinch, while even Tazuna looked up in alarm. Haku's mirrors shivered faintly with the force, the ice humming like struck crystal.
Sasuke's Sharingan narrowed as he glanced briefly in the gust's direction. It could've been a shockwave, Sensei's blade meeting the force of two swordsmen. But something about it was off. His gut twisted. It felt less like a clash and more like a signal—like something bigger had just awakened.
Haku, sensing the shift too, grew visibly tense. Whatever was happening over there, it was far from normal. He turned his full attention back to Sasuke, eyes sharp now.
"I have to end this quickly," he muttered.
Back with Daigo,
The air had changed.
Raiga noticed it first—the silver hue curling faintly around Daigo's frame, as if the chakra clinging to him had finally stopped pretending to be passive.
It shimmered like polished steel under moonlight, calm but oppressive, dense enough to almost hear. Not just a glow but a presence. And it wasn't metaphorical. The pressure in the air deepened like a storm cloud had crawled onto the bridge.
Even Ranmaru, hidden in the sack on Raiga's back, gave a trembling whisper through the link they shared.
"His chakra... it's molding itself in real time... perfectly... there's no waste, none! It's like every drop is under complete control..."
Raiga's brows furrowed, and his grip on the Kiba blades tightened. "You're telling me he's still not serious?"
No reply came. Only more data. Only more fear.
Then came the grin, that wild, infectious, wrong grin Daigo always wore when the stakes rose high enough to make most men vomit. The kind of grin a beast wears when the gate creaks open and no one's sure if it was the wind… or fate.
Raiga clenched his teeth. Tch… damn it. This is like Might Dai all over again…
Zabuza was quiet, but his reaction was written all over his posture. The Mist Demon stood his ground, but the air was pressing against his skin. As if the chakra around Daigo was pushing back against the world itself.
Zabuza had felt something like this before, during that one night beside Yagura, when the Three-Tails had half-emerged and the battlefield turned into a nightmare of blood and coral.
This was like that.
Then, it stopped. The wind that had picked up and buffeted against their skin fell away all at once, like a vacuum had sucked it out of existence. What came next wasn't a roar—it was silence. The kind of eerie calm that made shinobi sweat, because they knew something just reset the rules.
The mist… was gone.
Completely.
Not faded. Not thinned.
Gone.
Raiga's eyes widened. "He… blew it away?"
Zabuza's heart rate spiked. Not because the mist was gone. But because it had been removed deliberately—surgically. The bastard hadn't just powered up. He'd pulled a tactical maneuver right in the middle of powering up.
And then they saw him.
Daigo Guretsu stood tall at the center of it all, silver chakra veiling his form like a second skin. It didn't flicker. It didn't blaze. It just was. Refined and focused. In total harmony with his movements.
Even the Okozai his hand now glowed faintly, wrapped in the same silver current.
Ranmaru's voice, quiet and shaken, echoed in Raiga's ear.
"It's… not leaking any chakra. I don't understand it. Everything is circulating perfectly. It's like watching a sealed system that recycles every ounce of energy. That silver veil—it's not just armor. It's an amplifier!"
Daigo rolled his shoulders, and the silver aura pulsed with the movement like breath drawn through lungs. His grin widened, but not cruelly. No, this was joy. Battle-joy. The kind of energy only true warriors exuded when cornered and thriving.
"Alright boys," he said, voice smooth, deep, and charged with dangerous glee.
"Let's step it up."
Raiga had enough.
The moment Daigo's silver aura had torn through the mist, it was clear—the plan was dead. The advantage Ranmaru's enhanced vision provided in concealment was nullified now. There was no more curtain to hide behind. No terrain manipulation. Only raw power.
Raiga clicked his tongue and reached behind him, gripping the burlap sack tightly.
"Zabuza," he said, voice low but serious.
The Demon of the Mist grunted, still hunched slightly from the shockwave they had just endured.
Raiga tossed the sack to him. Zabuza caught it with one arm, his biceps twitching in pain from the earlier clash.
"Keep the kid safe. I can't have him near me for this."
Zabuza narrowed his eyes, then looked down briefly. He could feel Ranmaru's shivering presence inside the sack. The boy was clearly terrified.
"...You're really going to use that, huh?" Zabuza rasped.
Raiga didn't answer. He just held his arms out wide and tilted his head back.
Thunder cracked—not in the sky, but in the blades. The Kiba swords screamed.
Sparks danced across their jagged edges like lightning running down a cliff face. The chakra flow, long restrained, was now let loose in its purest destructive form. A storm took shape—not around Raiga, but within him. The blades became conductors. His body became conduit.
Daigo's grin didn't falter. He leaned forward slightly, intrigued, like a man about to see a tiger bare its fangs.
Raiga slammed the Kiba into the ground.
"Lightning Style: Lightning Strike Armor!"
Lightning exploded around him. It wasn't just a cloak of chakra. It was a full-body suit of devastation.
Tendrils of raw electricity snaked around his frame, then tightened, wrapped, fused into him like a second skin made of thunderstorms. His body now shimmered with jagged arcs, coursing along his arms, his shoulders, his legs. The very air around him popped and hissed, crackling like dry leaves over open flame.
His breathing deepened, and his muscles swelled slightly from the stimulation.
Ranmaru's muffled voice reached Zabuza's ears as if instinctually giving data. "His nervous system… it's syncing with the armor. He's... accelerating it."
Zabuza gave a humorless grin at Ranmaru. "Heh. So the brat's still got some thunder in him after all."
Raiga lifted his head. His eyes, black sclera flashing with blue sparks, locked with Daigo's silver glow.
"This armor," Raiga said, flexing his arms as the lightning tightened across his frame, "ain't subtle. Ain't elegant. But it hurts. You want speed? Power? Fine. Let's see you laugh when lightning's breaking every bone in your body!"
Daigo's grin only widened. "Now we're cooking!"
It was then that the entire bridge shook, just from Raiga taking a single step forward. The steel beneath his boots cracked, scorched by each burst of discharge as he moved. A walking tempest of destruction.
The Lightning Strike Armor wasn't just for show—it augmented Raiga's strength, gave him speed sharp enough to blur, and electrocuted anyone foolish enough to lay hands on him.
His chakra control wasn't enough to match a Raikage's finesse, true—but what he lacked in control, the Kiba blades made up for in raw output.
Legends said the First Raikage modeled his famed Lightning Armor after this. The original. The primal form of lightning-based augmentation. No Hell Stab, no pinpoint precision—just widespread ruin. A walking execution bolt wrapped in thunder.
Daigo exhaled slowly, the silver veil around him flickering in reaction to Raiga's charge.
Raiga moved first.
A crack of thunder burst from beneath his heels as he vanished from view, the bridge groaning under the sudden vacuum he left behind. And then—CLANG!
A flash of silver collided with a bolt of blue lightning.
The impact screamed through the air like a war drum, echoing across the ocean.
Daigo caught the blow with Okozai, grinning wildly. Raiga's fanged grin was inches from his own—his sclera still dark, sparks flashing across his skin like living flame.
The two locked eyes. One burned with bloodlust. The other with unfiltered joy.
"YEEEAAH! This is what I LIVE FOR!!" Daigo roared, kicking off the bridge with Raiga, spinning midair as their swords sang a duet of violence.
Steel struck steel again and again. Sparks flew with every collision—some from lightning, some from the sheer heat of momentum. Raiga moved like thunder incarnate, every swing packed with weight, rage, and wild electricity. His footwork was raw but deadly, forged from chaos.
But Daigo—Daigo danced.
The silver veil of chakra around him pulsed with every pivot, absorbing each burst of lightning with almost lazy efficiency. His black blade parried Raiga's frenzied slashes with a sort of giddy precision, flowing in tandem with his body.
Yet—he was being pushed back.
Not harmed, not wounded—but moved.
His feet skidded back against the bridge's surface, grinding sparks into the stone. He laughed as he did.
"Heh… haven't been moved like that in a while…" he muttered with a grin, twisting to the side just as Raiga's swords came down in a cross-slash that scorched the bridge behind him.
Raiga's grin widened. "You ain't seen nothing yet!"
He raised both Kiba blades to the sky.
"Lightning Style: Fangs of Lightning!!"
A surge of lightning shot skyward like a flare—and the clouds answered.
Thunder cracked the heavens.
Bolts rained down like the wrath of a storm god, lashing at the bridge, tearing apart concrete, wood, and rebar. Daigo leapt through the barrage, each bolt barely missing him—or being redirected by a swipe of his glowing blade. But his grin was gone.
He landed hard, frowning at the chasm now split into the bridge. His eyes narrowed.
"Oi, jackass," Daigo barked. "You tryna kill my client's life work or what?"
Raiga laughed madly, drawing the blades back again. "Should've picked a better battlefield, boar-boy!"
Another bolt rose skyward—but this time, Raiga never got to finish the technique.
Daigo blinked out of view.
Raiga blinked—then gasped.
A silver blur appeared beside him, mid-swinging motion.
"Nuh-uh." Daigo's voice came sharp, fanged, and gleeful.
WHAM!
A chakra-powered roundhouse smashed into Raiga's side like a cannonball.
The Lightning Armor cracked, just slightly—and Raiga's entire body was launched off the bridge like a missile. He tumbled, arced, and disappeared into the sea with a sizzling splash, lightning fizzling into the waves.
"Better battlefield you say? Oh say less!"
Daigo didn't hesitate. He sprinted toward the edge and leapt without a sound. The moment his silver-wrapped form hit the water, the entire ocean surface seemed to jolt. A shockwave rippled outward, and dozens of fish floated belly-up in the foam.
Daigo vanished beneath the surface—after Raiga.
The battle had moved beneath the waves.
Zabuza, still standing on the bridge with the weight of Ranmaru's sack on his back, watched the chaos unfold. He squinted down at the water, waves still writhing with electric discharge.
"…Tch. Idiots," he muttered—but a grin tugged at the edge of his lips.
Then he turned his head.
"Hey, kid," Zabuza rasped, tugging the sack slightly to let in air. "What else can you do with those fancy eyes of yours?"
Ranmaru didn't respond immediately. But Zabuza could feel it. That twitch in the air. The subtle shift in pressure. The boy had more to offer. And Zabuza wanted to see just how much.
The storm wasn't over.
The Bridge, Southern End
Sasuke was struggling.
Hard.
The world around him blurred with streaks of silver and cold. The crystal mirrors surrounding him weren't just beautiful—they were damn near impossible. Each reflection of Haku glared back like a phantom, a ghost with lethal precision and speed that mocked even the Sharingan.
His crimson eyes tracked Haku, saw every twitch, every shift of weight—and yet it didn't matter. The senbon still found him.
One, two—he blocked them.
Three more slipped through.
His sleeves, his arms, his chest—pierced. Sasuke looked like a walking pincushion, blood staining the threads of his new outfit as he grit his teeth and endured. The pain was manageable. The frustration? Less so.
His Fire Style Jutsu? Useless.
His Sharingan? Only good for watching his own defeat in slow motion.
Dammit!
This wasn't a fight. It was a butchering. He panted, sweat trickling down his temple, his stance low. His body screamed with every movement, and even now, more senbon whistled toward him.
He twisted, dodged a few, smacked aside another—
Thup!
Two more embedded into his shoulder and thigh.
He hissed. Tch… damn it… Not poisoned. That was something, at least. But they could've been.
Haku wasn't aiming to kill. Sasuke could tell. The senbon weren't targeting organs or arteries—they were locking his limbs down. Slowing him. Forcing surrender.
Sasuke sneered through the pain. "You're holding back," he spat.
The mirrors shimmered. One Haku turned his head. Silent.
"Why?" Sasuke demanded, blood sliding down his sleeve. "Just what the hell is your deal? Why are you stopping the bridge from being built? You two get off on oppression or what?"
Silence. More senbon shimmered into Haku's grip.
Sasuke stepped forward, ignoring the way his leg buckled. "You could've killed Gato. Taken his money. Left. It's not even about the damn money anymore, is it?"
Still no answer. Sasuke's breathing deepened.
"Then what is it?!"
Finally, Haku answered. His voice was soft. Almost hollow.
"Money… can only take you so far," he said. "Zabuza-sama's plans… Gato's money wouldn't last even a year. Not for what he intends."
Sasuke blinked, sweat dripping into his eyes. "What does he intend, then?"
Silence again.
The senbon raised.
"I don't have time for this," Haku said quietly.
Fwish!
The next volley of senbon launched—
"RAAAAAAAH!!"
Something slammed into one of the mirrors. Not with force. Not with technique. But with pure, dumb, chaotic momentum.
SHHWOOOP!
Naruto phased through the mirror like a ghost, landing face-first into the dome of ice beside Sasuke with a WHUMP.
Even Haku was startled. His visible eye widened slightly as he blinked at the blond who was now groaning and trying to stand.
"…What…?" Haku murmured.
Sasuke blinked once. Then again. Then groaned loudly and palmed his face.
"Oh for fu—Naruto?!"
"OWW…" Naruto rubbed his head, blinking at the reflective prison around him. "W-Wait… did I just—HUH?!"
His eyes shot to Haku. He blinked for a few seconds then gaped.
"YOUUUU?!" Naruto pointed dramatically. "You're the pretty guy from the forest!!"
Haku flinched at the volume.
Sasuke stared at Naruto like he was a malfunctioning tool. "You knew him?"
Naruto turned, looking embarrassed. "Uhhh… kinda? Not really? I mean… we talked."
Meanwhile, outside the mirror dome—
"NARUTOOOOOOOO!!!" Sakura screamed so loudly her voice cracked across the battlefield. "YOU MORON!! WHAT PART OF 'DON'T INTERFERE' DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!"
Naruto flinched as if her voice had physically smacked him.
"I was trying to be cool, okay?! Geez!!"
Inside the dome, Sasuke simply stared. Naruto stared back.
"…Hey," he muttered. "Why do you look like a human hedgehog right now?"
"…Shut. Up."
Their short-lived moment ended as another volley of senbon was prepared.
Haku's expression was no longer curious.
It was resolute. Two targets now. Time was short. And the mirrors shimmered with renewed intent.
Underneath the Bridge:
The water sizzled.
Steam hissed in thick, curling spirals as bolts of electricity danced across the surface of the ocean like angry veins. Raiga huffed, one hand holding the Kiba blade like a life raft while the other sparked violently with unstable current. He floated on the ruined swells of the once-calm water, lips parted in disbelief.
"Tch… damn bastard…"
He'd already tried dragging Daigo underwater. Tried turning the ocean into a boiling cauldron of pain. But it was useless. That silver chakra veil—it didn't just protect him. It laughed at the very concept of elemental disadvantage. The water boiled, and the man inside smiled.
Not a flicker of pain.
Not even a blink.
Raiga chuckled bitterly as he stood upright again, water lapping at his shins. "Y'know… Ranmaru told me not to waste my time. Said your chakra's like a sealed circuit. Recycles itself. Doesn't waste a drop, That's not real. No way."
He twitched his shoulders.
"Oh," Daigo said, casually spinning his blade once in his hand. "It's real, alright. I made it myself."
Raiga blinked.
"…You made it?"
"The technique, yeah. Chakra Personification Technique." Daigo's tone was relaxed, conversational, as if discussing sake preferences and not dueling to the death on an open ocean battlefield.
"It's just chakra control, really. You synchronize your physical and spiritual energy completely. Mind and body acting as one. If done right, you don't waste anything. Every ounce of chakra flows in a circuit through your system, refined in real time."
Raiga narrowed his eyes. "Bull. Chakra leaks by nature. You're talking in fables."
Daigo chuckled. "People once thought walking on water was fantasy too. Now genin do it before they hit puberty."
They clashed again. Sparks danced across the water. Raiga felt his limbs grow sluggish. His lightning wasn't syncing right. His heart jumped.
Daigo grinned wider.
"You're feeling it now, huh?" he said as their blades locked. "See… once I get a solid read on your chakra signature, I can influence it. Only a bit. Disrupt the balance. Shake your control just enough that your lightning doesn't listen."
Raiga's pupils dilated.
"You what?!"
Daigo chuckled. "Your lightning's getting sloppy. That chakra control of yours? It's becoming unstable. That's the cost of fighting me for this long. Sorry, buddy."
Raiga growled, and for the first time, a flicker of panic twisted his face. His chakra was unstable. He was losing control over the armor.
He shoved back, surging chakra violently through the Kiba blades.
"Tch!" he flared his power, blue-white electricity crackling violently around him. "Fine! You wanna mess with my chakra? Try this!"
He threw his arms wide, and lightning screamed from his blades into the sky. The clouds rumbled. Then came the roar.
"Lightning Dragon Tornado!!"
The winds exploded outward in a vortex of electric chaos. Lightning curled into a dragon's head, snarling with rage, spiraling around Raiga as he spun into the eye of the storm. The vortex surged forward, screeching across the water in a colossal burst of power and destruction.
The sea split. The sky flashed white. The dragon charged.
Daigo's expression didn't change.
Then… he smiled. A genuine one.
"All that lightning…"
He lifted Okozai, and the silver chakra coating it condensed. Then—whoosh!—a flick of cutting air enveloped the edge.
Flying Swallow.
Wind chakra. Honed. Deadly. Precise. And dramatically amplified with his advanced chakra. 10 times the power and sharpness of a normal one.
"Perfect," Daigo said softly.
He stepped forward—then launched himself directly into the maw of the dragon.
Raiga's eyes widened. "You idiot—!"
CLAAAAAAANG!
Daigo's blade sang as it met the tornado head-on. Wind screamed against lightning.
For a heartbeat, everything stilled.
Then—SHHHHRRAAAAACKK!!
The vortex split clean down the middle as Daigo cut through it, he only needed to extend the Flying Swallow and instantaneously, the lightning scattered. The sea frothed violently, the storm howled—and Daigo burst through the other side, his silver-coated blade cleaving the air.
Raiga barely turned—
"Good fight, man."
Daigo's voice was behind him now.
SHLCK!
Raiga's eyes widened. Then blood erupted from his chest in a clean diagonal line—from shoulder to waist.
He stood for a second longer. Then the Kiba blades slipped from his hands. And Raiga Kurotsuki fell forward—silent, intact, defeated.
The sea accepted him without ceremony. The storm above began to clear.
Daigo stood still, silver chakra dancing softly off him, blade humming.
"…Tough bastard," he muttered, eyes cast to the water.
Back with Sasuke and Naruto:
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Senbon rained like hail. Dozens at a time, needles glinting in the light as they ricocheted off wood and flesh alike.
Sasuke winced, crouched behind a circle of Naruto's clones who had each fashioned makeshift wooden shields — crude, cut-up construction boards that once belonged to a bridge crew. Pathetic on their own. But dozens of them in formation?
It was a fortress.
Naruto gritted his teeth, dozens of him forming a rotating wall around Sasuke and himself. "Don't move, teme! Just stick to the plan!"
Sasuke glared, breath ragged. "I know the damn plan."
A fresh volley of senbon clattered against the walls of Naruto clones, some vanishing on contact, others rotating their shield-walls to block the next wave. They weren't indestructible, but they were buying precious seconds.
Seconds they desperately needed.
Haku's Demonic Ice Mirrors remained the same — a dome of refracting ice, each mirror holding a version of Haku that moved with impossible speed, flitting between reflections faster than sound.
Even with his Sharingan, Sasuke couldn't track them all.
And yet — the pressure was slightly less now.
Thanks to Naruto.
He was… being smart. Using his clone numbers tactically. It surprised Sasuke. Genuinely.
"You're learning," Sasuke muttered under his breath.
Naruto didn't hear him. He was too busy talking. Of course he was.
"Hey! Ice guy! You never answered me!" Naruto shouted up at the mirror dome. "You said protecting people is what makes someone strong, right? That real strength is when you fight for the ones that matter!"
The mirrors stilled.
"Then why the hell are you trying to kill the people we care about? Tazuna's a good guy! He's just trying to build a bridge! That's all!" Haku didn't answer.
"Look, I get it, okay?! I don't know you, but you seem… I dunno, kinda nice! But if you're gonna talk about protecting people, how about not trying to murder a bunch of innocent villagers?!"
Still no answer. Until—
"…You don't understand."
The voice echoed from every mirror. Cold. Measured. But trembling.
"I agree with you, Naruto Uzumaki. I do believe protecting others is true strength… But…"
One of the mirrors flickered. Haku's real body slid down and landed lightly on the ice.
"But what would you do if the only person who ever gave your life meaning… was about to lose everything?"
Naruto flinched. The tone wasn't angry. It was broken.
"You want to know why I fight?" Haku said, stepping forward, he looked slightly older than them. Pale skin. Soft eyes. Eyes filled with rage buried in sorrow.
"I was born in the Land of Water. During the cleansing."
Sasuke's eyes narrowed.
"What cleansing?" Naruto asked, voice hushed.
"They came for the bloodline users. For people like me. People like your friend. Children born with cursed powers."
There was bitterness in his voice now. Frozen venom.
"My mother hid her power. Married a man. Had me. We were a family."
He looked down. "One day… I wanted to impress her. Show her what I could do. I froze water into little needles and made them dance. I thought… she'd be proud."
A pause.
"She slapped me. Told me never to do it again. She was terrified."
Another pause.
"My father saw."
Naruto's fists clenched.
"He came back that night with a mob. Killed my mother in front of me. Said he had to purify the blood. Said I was a mistake."
The air in the mirrors felt colder than ice.
"He tried to kill me. So I defended myself. I didn't know what I was doing. I was just scared. I froze the ground… froze them all. The entire house."
Silence. Naruto said nothing. Sasuke, too.
"I wandered for months. Alone. Hated. Hunted. Until… he found me." Haku's voice softened. Almost fond.
"Zabuza-sama. He didn't look at me with fear. He saw my power and didn't flinch. He took me in. Trained me. Fed me. Gave me clothes. A name. A purpose."
He looked at them both now. And the strength in his voice returned.
"I am his weapon. His shield. His hope."
Naruto's voice trembled. "But this is just a bridge…"
"You think it's just a bridge?" Haku snapped. "You don't understand what this land means! This place isn't just lumber and steel — it's a lifeline. Wave is a junction. A crucial artery of trade that connects the Land of Water to the mainland!"
Sasuke's eyes sharpened.
"It's a smuggling route," Haku continued. "And the rebels in the Mist — those still fighting Yagura's rule — need this line. Zabuza-sama needs it. Without it, his rebellion dies. The revolution ends. The tyrant wins."
He raised a hand.
"I will not let this bridge be finished."
His senbon gleamed.
"I will not let you take him away from me."
The mirrors pulsed. Haku vanished into the dome again, and this time—
There was no mercy.
Senbon rained harder than before.
Naruto grimaced. "W-we got him talking… now he's really mad!"
"Then stop yapping and focus, dumbass!" Sasuke barked, reforming their clone wall. The fight wasn't over. But they finally understood the enemy. And it hurt more than the senbon. Way more.
Back under the Bridge:
The sea was still for a moment.
Waves lapped quietly against drifting mist as Daigo Guretsu stood alone, watching the water.
No Raiga.
Only ripples and the faint trail of crimson threading out like a ribbon beneath the surface. The Kiba-wielder's body had sunk out of view, and with the severity of the wound Daigo had inflicted—slicing through flesh, muscle, veins, and arteries alike—there was no coming back from that.
He hadn't used the Flying Swallow for the final slash. He'd turned it off. Because if he hadn't, Raiga would've been cleaved in half.
He had allowed the man dignity in death. Or at least as much dignity as one could find drowning in your own blood, possibly being chewed on by sharks.
Daigo exhaled.
"A hell of a fight."
Then—
A sudden shift in the air. His senses flared. The taste of chakra rolled in again like a slow, choking fog.
"...Hidden Mist, huh."
It wasn't Raiga's version. This one was different. Thicker. Colder. Precise.
Zabuza.
Daigo didn't even need to see to know it. The chakra in the air was dense. Familiar. Saturated with quiet, surgical malice. But more than that—it had Ranmaru's signature interwoven, too.
"Smart kid…" Daigo muttered, his eyes narrowing.
This time, it wasn't a three-target illusion. Ranmaru had focused solely on two: himself and Zabuza. That made the camouflage far more efficient—harder to detect, harder to feel. The mist pulsed like a heartbeat.
Even Daigo's Shingan Kairo could barely pierce the static.
"Come on, Zabuza," he called out, amused. "Not to be a dick or anything, but this again? We already played this game."
No answer. Of course not.
The Demon of the Hidden Mist never answered bait. He was the silence.
Suddenly—
SHUNK!
A blur at Daigo's blindside. Cold metal kissed his neck. Zabuza's blade came in fast. Silent Killing, perfectly executed. No killing intent. No sound. No warning.
Daigo had half a second.
It was enough.
He dropped under the blade and slashed upward, catching the attacker clean through.
Water sprayed his face. A clone. But the trap was already in motion.
From every side—five more Zabuza clones converged like wolves. Each one swung their blade at a different vital point—neck, chest, thigh, spine, heart.
Daigo exploded upward, chakra flaring beneath his feet.
He soared above the strikes—but his senses were screaming.
He couldn't sense which one was the real Zabuza. Ranmaru's chakra overlay made every clone feel real. Their chakra networks were identical.
A perfect illusion.
Then—his instincts screamed. Daigo's eyes snapped upward.
There. Above him. A final Zabuza clone—or was it the real one?—descended like a meteor, sword raised overhead, bellowing a warcry of blood and fury.
Daigo raised his Okozai in time to block—
CLAAAANG!
Zabuza's strike came with full momentum. Gravity won. It beat Daigo's balance and drove him down. Right into the circle of clones. Right into the center.
Too late—he realized their plan. Five sets of hands slammed together in unison.
"Water Prison Jutsu!"
The water beneath him erupted. A crushing mass of liquid enveloped him instantly—not a normal water prison. This one had weight. Density. It felt like cement. The pressure was so thick it crushed against his ribs, threatening to squeeze his lungs shut.
He was trapped. Held.
And then he saw it. The real Zabuza. Coming. Running across the water, cleaver in hand. Except—this wasn't a cleaver anymore.
Zabuza had funneled his chakra into the blade. Not just any chakra—his elemental affinity. Water. But not just water. It had been shaped, condensed, infused with killing intent until it hummed. The Kubikiribōchō no longer looked like a sword.
It looked like a drill. A blood-red water drill, howling with rotational fury.
Zabuza's mouth bandages unraveled mid-charge, revealing his razor-like teeth.
He was grinning. Daigo was too. Still trapped. Still in the prison. But grinning.
"Is this it?" Daigo whispered. "The final swing?"
Zabuza didn't answer. They both knew. Daigo inhaled once—deep.
The silver aura around his body flared. His chakra ignited. And in an instant—Daigo's chakra detonated outward in a spinning cyclone, mimicking the Hyūga's Kaiten but raw, uncontrolled. Like a pressure bomb.
The water prison shattered. The clones evaporated. But Zabuza didn't care as he was already there.
Both men were within inches of each other and both swung at the exact same time.
"Annihilation Thunderclap!!"
"Explosive Demon Wave!!"
And then the ocean split.
A line of white light erupted between them as pressure met pressure, chakra met chakra, will met will.
The ocean imploded on impact—waves blown skyward, steam hissing into clouds, the pressure alone enough to force air from the lungs of those even miles away. A thunderclap roared across the bay.
The mist vanished.
For a moment. Only silence.
Then—two figures emerged.
Standing across from one another on the shattered water's surface, Daigo Guretsu and Zabuza Momochi stood tall—at first.
Zabuza's frame trembled, chest heaving with ragged breaths. His grip faltered on the hilt of the Kubikiribōchō, the blade now cracked down the middle. Spiderweb fractures traced through its iron body like the veins of a dying beast. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth, his chakra flaring unsteadily around him—wild, flickering, desperate.
Daigo, by contrast, stood calmly.
His black sword shimmered, still glowing faintly with the remnants of his final technique. The silver aura that wrapped around his body pulsed with quiet strength. He wasn't even sweating, breathing fast but not heavily.
He smiled—that same grin—unchanged since the start.
Zabuza narrowed his eyes.
He had thrown everything into that last swing—his rage, his chakra, his hate, his purpose. But all of it… wasn't enough. His body was past its limit.
Chakra reserves? Bottomed out. And his blade—his precious tool of murder—was broken. Meanwhile, this bastard looked like he could go ten more rounds.
Zabuza cursed under his breath, a bitter smirk flashing briefly across his bloodied face.
"You're a freak..." he muttered. Then his legs gave out.
His body pitched forward, head-first into the water—unconscious, chakra drained down to the last drop. A silent fall.
Daigo rushed towards the drowned opponent, grabbed him and his blade and jumped up the bridge before laying him there, unconscious and vulnerable.
The silver aura around Daigo peeled back, dissolving like smoke in the air. That was enough for today.
He sheathed his sword in one smooth motion, the faint metallic click echoing across the water.
"Damn," Daigo said, his grin softening as he stared into the misty sky then at Zabuza.
"That was a good fight."