"Huff—huff—"
Hanzo dragged ragged breaths, hauling his frame upright from the gouged trench, rain sluicing over battered form.
Kyuushin's strike, whether by design or instinct, had spared the breather mask strapped to his face—a mercy that kept his wounds from spiraling fatal. Without it, the fallout would have claimed them all in the backlash.
"Crack! Crack!"
Fingers probed ribs with grim precision, snapping dislocations back into alignment to brace for the storm ahead. Shattered armor hung in tatters, chest laid bare to a ghastly gash that gleamed unnaturally pale—no crimson spill, as if some lingering chakra warded the flow.
Those trifles faded from Hanzo's focus; he trudged from the furrow, planting himself defiant before Tsunade, Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and the redheaded wildcard who'd upended his day.
Kyuushin appraised the silhouette cutting through the relentless sheets, a grudging respect blooming for the man's ironclad resilience. That dragon's fury? A death sentence for any standard jonin, no survivors.
Yet Hanzo wore it like a graze, light wounds at worst. His posture screamed unbroken—gearing for a four-on-one rematch that bordered on madness.
"What's your name, kid?" The query rasped from the mask's filter, curiosity threading the gravel.
"Konoha chunin, Uzumaki Kyuushin."
His response rang clear, vitality surging back as soldier pills worked their alchemy, banishing the hollow ache with fresh fuel.
"Uzumaki from the leaf village—I see your mettle now. Step into the ring; you've earned a shot at dancing with me!"
Arrogance laced the challenge, but Kyuushin sidestepped the bait, unflinching amid the downpour's chill.
Hot-blooded youth might've charged at the taunt, ego ignited like dry tinder. Kyuushin knew better, limits etched sharp from hard-won trials. Among jonin, he held his own—fierce, adaptable—but Hanzo loomed in another league.
Without Gene Lock's edge, that blistering Body Flicker would've ended him before seals formed, a ghost's whisper in the rain.
Canon tales painted Mifune as iaijutsu's pinnacle, blade so swift seals crumbled mid-weave. Yet even he fell to Hanzo's edge, spared only by a whim of pity.
Young Mifune hadn't peaked then, but the clash spotlighted Hanzo's taijutsu supremacy—years of forge-honed lethality.
Kyuushin's close-quarters game held water, Gene Lock amplifying to formidable heights, but against decades of refinement? Outclassed.
His stronghold? Ninjutsu, the arsenal that could genuinely threaten. Large-scale barrages shone in mobs, carving swaths through fodder like a scythe through wheat.
One-on-one? Less ideal, scope wasted on singular foes. Ice Release, his ace, lay exposed now—freshly unveiled, but Hanzo thrived on peeled layers.
One opening granted; a second? A fool's dream. Rationality anchored him, a wry smile curving lips. "Appreciate the nod, Senior Hanzo, but I'm green yet. This elite clash belongs to my teachers—I'll sit this dance out."
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed in faint surprise at the poise, kunai slipping into grip as he positioned protectively. "Head out. We've got the reins now—no repeats on that slip-up."
Jiraiya grinned through the tension, clapping Kyuushin's shoulder with rough encouragement. "You've already bloodied the big bad. Trust us to seal the deal; go make waves elsewhere."
Hanzo's aura darkened at the rebuff, killing intent spiking like a kunai's glint. The invitation masked a snare, meant to tether the threat—yet the kid pierced the ploy, slipping the noose.
His gaze lifted, malice bared unfiltered, a predator's promise.
"Move—now!" Tsunade barked, exploding forward in a blur, fist cocked for Hanzo's ravaged chest. Orochimaru and Jiraiya surged in tandem, weaving a fresh onslaught of strikes and seals.
Hanzo rebuffed the tide but refused to yield his prey, bellowing over the clash. "Ibuse!"
Kyuushin, mid-stride toward freedom, froze as Gene Lock's warning thrummed—a razor instinct of peril. He vaulted skyward on pure reflex.
Right call: the Giant Salamander breached in a spray of earth, jaws yawning wide for the spot he'd vacated. A heartbeat's delay, and he'd have fed the beast.
Suspended in the air, fury ignited—fine, if escape's denied, shatter another of your pillars!
Right palm extended, azure light coalesced in a pulsing orb, swelling with controlled fury until it strained his grip. With a sharp thrust, he hurled it at the salamander's bulk.
"Super: Great Ball Rasengan!"
"Sizzle—"
Collision birthed a shriek of rending force, the salamander's hide warping under the spinning assault, agony rippling through its frame.
No vocal cry escaped, but torment etched every twitch. It held moments longer before "poof"—smoke claimed it, contract severed in retreat.
Summons bent that way: unslain, they could bail, fleeing to recover. Kyuushin sought no kill—just a timeout, stripping Hanzo's hulking ally from the board.
Hanzo repelled the Sannin with a vicious sweep, the bond's echo fueling his rage toward the youth—a notch deeper, venomous.
Orochimaru's features hardened, reading the undercurrents. Hanzo held back against them, full throttle leashed. He knew their lineage—Hokage's prized pupils.
Unleash lethal intent? The Third's reprisal wouldn't simmer as border dust-ups; escalation to full incursion, villages aflame.
Absent Kyuushin, the calculus stayed simple: Sannin versus Hanzo, a high-stakes duel while rank-and-file Konoha and Rain clashed to clinch the war's fate.
Kyuushin's wildcard flipped the script. Solo, he could domino the field—barring Hanzo, no Rain elite could corral his chaos, a one-man tide turning flanks.
That imbalance? Anathema to Hanzo's blueprint. He'd baited Konoha deep into Rain's maw for this shot at glory, a gambit to seize victory from the jaws.
Triumph here meant leverage: Rain breathing freer, Konoha stretched thin against peer powers, suing for terms that favored the underdog.
From those gains, Rain could rebuild, carve niches in the endless strife—territory, alliances, a sliver of dominance.
All hinged on crushing Konoha this day. Kyuushin's meteoric rise gutted half that vision, a fracture in the foundation.
No tolerance left—Hanzo couldn't risk the redhead loose among his lines again.
He detonated!