Kiba Inuzuka vs. Hinata Gin
Kiba stepped onto the battlefield with high spirits, Akamaru beside him, energized and eager.
"Well, Hinata," he called out, voice carrying a mix of pride and determination, "I've trained hard in your world—Akamaru and I both. I want you to know I'll be taking this fight seriously. So I hope you'll return that with kindness."
Hinata stood still, her eyes closed, calm like the surface of a quiet lake. "You know I always respond with kindness," she replied softly.
Kiba grinned. "I'm curious though… is she going to fight with you too?" He gestured to Mitsue, still coiled loosely around Hinata's waist.
Hinata blinked. She hadn't realized she was still carrying Mitsue. As her hand touched the small serpent, she felt her warmth—familiar and grounding. But before she could answer, Kiba added, "Don't get me wrong—I've got no issue with it. After all, Akamaru and I are a team. We fight together, or not at all."
Hinata hesitated, then responded, turning toward Kiba. "You're right. But Mitsue won't be joining the fight directly. Unlike you and Akamaru, we haven't trained to battle in sync. We might get in each other's way."
She then looked down at Mitsue, who peeked up from around her waist.
"I know you prefer to stay here, close to me. But… would you wait in the stands this time? I promise we'll train together, and next time you'll be part of the battle too."
Mitsue lifted her head, gaze locked on Hinata's. Then, with a gentle squeeze—like a wish of luck—she released her and slipped away in a fluid, startlingly swift motion, positioning herself in the stands to watch with bright curiosity.
Kurenai stood up, eyes sharp. "Well, assuming the distractions are over… the match will begin the moment this stone touches the ground."
She tossed the small stone high into the air.
The instant it struck the battlefield, the fight erupted.
Kiba inhaled. Around him, the air condensed, wrapping him in invisible force. Akamaru exhaled, the heat around him thickening. Both had mastered samurai breathing—each in their own way. Kiba's hands blurred into seals, producing a visual smoke meant to disorient. He and his shadow clone split, while Akamaru, now in Kiba's form, mirrored their positions.
Hinata remained graceful. She answered in kind—with strong intent.
One breath. Mirage Breath. Her fusion of fire and water. The world slowed around her—fire poised to explode, water coiling inward to absorb and redirect. Her chakra aligned. With one hand resting gently on the hilt of Shinsei, poised in a perfect iaidō stance, she stepped forward. In two fluid motions, two spiritual images of herself split outward. Three Hinatas, each with a hand on their sword, eyes locked, unified in intent.
Akamaru and Kiba's clone rushed to flank her. Meanwhile, the original Kiba's energy surged. Hinata could feel it—muscles tearing limits, spirit flaring wildly.
"First Gate: Opening! Second Gate: Rest!"
He launched forward like a missile, the earth beneath him cracking.
Simultaneously, the clone released a jutsu—"Wind Style: Vacuum Bullet!" It tore through one of Hinata's illusions, confirming it as a false projection. The projectile kept going, seemingly on course toward Akamaru—still in Kiba's form. But this had been part of the misdirection.
With perfect timing, Akamaru ignited with heat and kicked the Jutsu at an angle, redirecting it toward one of the two remaining Hinatas—one that had not yet been confirmed as fake. By sheer chance—or perhaps intuition—it was the real Hinata.
In response, Hinata enacted a subtle substitution. She swapped positions with the first illusion—the one already exposed by the initial Jutsu. Her goal was clear: allow the attack to visibly pass through the same clone twice, reinforcing the illusion that it was just a harmless decoy, and draw attention away from her true location.
The redirected projectile pierced the same clone once again, solidifying its status as the 'fake' in the minds of the spectators and perhaps even her opponent. But Kiba's senses—trained in tandem with Akamaru and sharpened by instinct—weren't fooled. He ignored the unmarked clone and spun mid-air, redirecting himself toward the very spot where the projectile had just passed through.
He attacked the position Hinata had assumed—the supposed "decoy" now occupied by the real one.
Though momentarily surprised that her misdirection had failed, Hinata quickly realized why—it wasn't just Kiba's intuition or battle sense. Of course. Scent. Her illusions didn't carry any trace of her smell, something she had overlooked. A mistake she silently vowed to correct in future training.
Even so, she reacted with sharp instinct. Channeling a microboost—imperfectly fused with the fire aspect of her Mirage Breath—and drawing on her World of Intent, she heightened her perception instantly predicting Kiba's advance. In a seamless motion, she unsheathed Shinsei from her iaidō stance and sidestepped Kiba's charge with surgical precision. The impact met the blade squarely, reverberating along its polished edge, but her fluid movement redirected the force. Kiba, unable to halt his momentum, was hurled several steps backward, skidding across the arena floor. The shock on his face was evident—despite unraveling her strategy, Hinata had still responded with calm clarity and overwhelming control.
Hinata's silver thread lashed outward, solidifying and piercing Kiba's clone just as it began forming another Jutsu. The clone vanished in an instant.
Akamaru lunged. Hinata responded with a sensory deprivation genjutsu—enough to stagger him for a second. But Kiba was already back, showing astonishing resilience and completely ignoring the severe strike Hinata had just delivered. He ignored her illusions—of course, scent. Her mirages lacked it.
His powerful kick landed—like being hit by ten men. But Hinata was water and fire. Her body absorbed and redirected the force. Muscles loosened, bones flexible from breath and chakra. She channeled the momentum, redirected it.
With a single palm to Kiba's chest, she released the force back.
Kiba was thrown backward by the sheer force of his own momentum. Nearly eighty percent of the impact surged back into his body, hurling him several meters across the arena. The remainder rippled harmlessly through the ground.
Hinata remained unmoved. Her Fire Body absorbed the residual shock, dispersing the force through controlled waves of chakra. What might have shattered bones in another passed through her like heat into water—her breath steady, her posture resolute, the glow of her mastery unmistakable.
Akamaru recovered, and Kiba, clutching his chest, forced himself up. He closed the gates slowly, breathing hard.
"Honestly… it's impressive," he muttered. "Even after all that, I barely pushed you. Looks like Akamaru and I will need to try harder."
Then, everything changed.
Their hands met.
In a surge of energy, Kiba and Akamaru vanished—replaced by a towering, two-meter tall beast. Covered in fur, muscular and humanoid, with two snarling canine heads. Heat radiated from it. Two samurai breaths—fire and air—combined.
Hinata blinked. A werewolf of dual intent. She moved to dodge, leaving a mirage behind. But the beast was too fast.
She triggered Boost, pushing her speed. Her World of Intent activated. Even so, she was barely holding ground.
Attacks came from all sides. She tried genjutsu—only for one head to cancel the other's daze. Microboosts and Fire Body kept her upright, barely.
Sparks flew from each clash between Shinsei and claws. Yet despite Hinata's mastery, it was clear she was being overwhelmed. The speed and raw power of the two-headed werewolf were simply greater than hers. Kiba, guided by instinct and the unerring sense of smell he and Akamaru shared, struck only at the real Hinata—never once wasting motion on her illusions.
She could barely keep up. Only the heightened perception granted by her World of Intent allowed her to react at all, and even that was pushed to its limit. Every blow sent tremors through her arms, her muscles aching and lungs burning with the effort. For what felt like minutes, she endured—a blur of evasion, deflection, and stubborn endurance in a battle that, at that pace, she knew she could not win. not like this.
She shifted tactics. Her mirage clones began to strike with real force. One blow to the chest knocked the beast back. Another hit its leg, destabilizing it.
She had the upper hand.
But she was at her limit.
Three attacks. That was her ceiling. She felt her energy waning.
Still, she persevered. Drawing in a single, precise breath, she focused what remained of her strength into her Mirage Breath—this time channeling its fiery aspect more fully. The ignition was sudden, a burst of explosive motion that fused briefly but powerfully with her Boost. The chakra surged not chaotically, but guided like water down a carved path, directed by sheer will.
Shinsei blazed in her grip. She struck.
The two-headed werewolf, momentarily staggered by the combined distraction of her remaining illusions—illusions it had until now disregarded—was caught off guard.
Her blade connected with the creature's chest in a fierce, spiraling arc, the impact ringing across the battlefield like a bell. The beast reeled backward, forced to retreat by the sudden counter strike.
Then, a shift.
The werewolf's heat flared. Blood dripped from its jaws.
Its breathing faltered.
Hinata ceased her assault, breathing heavily.
The transformation unraveled—not solely from Hinata's final strike, but because the form itself was collapsing. The immense strain of sustaining such a state was too much for Kiba and Akamaru. Their combined chakra, breath, and will had reached their limits. The heat from within turned volatile, their breathing faltered, and the fusion that once seemed unstoppable fractured from the inside out.
Kiba and Akamaru collapsed back into themselves—battered, burned, exhausted.
"So," Kiba grinned, wiping blood from his chin, "what did you think of our new technique? At least we made you sweat."
Akamaru gave a tired bark of agreement.
"Though… that kick of yours is brutal," Kiba chuckled. "Still, we're getting better. One day, we'll beat you."
Hinata remained upright, breathing slowly, maintaining her poise.
"Your new form is terrifying. Rumors of a two-headed werewolf will spread through the nations soon enough. And your Jutsu combo… redirecting ninjutsu and boosting the fire Jutsu with redirected wind… That was incredible."
Kiba raised an eyebrow. "But it didn't work. We only hit illusions."
Hinata smiled. "You have to admit—my Mirage Breath has its strengths."
Kiba scratched the side of his nose, grinning with a hint of sheepishness. "And its weaknesses."
Hinata chuckled softly, acknowledging the point with a graceful nod.
He nodded. "Still can't believe how you absorbed and redirected my attack. That was insane."
"Water lets me redirect the internal flow of force, especially blunt force." Hinata explained. "It was a beautiful risk, using the Eight Gates in combination with wind breath."
Kiba exhaled. "That jutsu's madness. Took me months to open two gates, barely. And training for it is torture. Whoever created it was insane… but combining it with Wind Breath… gave us something special. When you hit me back like that, I had no choice—we had to test our new transformation. Shame it still has a time limit."
Hinata nodded. "Then I suppose today is my win. But next time—when you master that form—I'll be waiting."
Kiba smirked, raising his hand, stained with dirt and blood. "You can count on that."
And with that, the first match concluded.