Ryouma glanced out into the lightning-lit darkness again. He couldn't see either Kakashi or Iebara, not even their chakra flares, but he could feel the wintry sunlight-on-steel chill of Kakashi's chakra and the dark, twisted weight of Iebara's, somewhere in the trees. Coming closer, now, nearly to the edge of the treeline. Genma's clones tensed. The three Kiri nin took a few measured steps back.

It wasn't Konoha that the Kiri captain was keeping her distance from.

Ryouma struggled up to his knees. "They're staying outside his range. D'you see? They pulled clear when he attacked, instead of trying to stop him, and they're still playing careful now. Fifteen meters, maybe. If they stay outside his range, he can't affect them."

Fifteen meters was a hell of a range for a jutsu that powerful. Ryouma's Naizou Tokasu was only accurate within five, and fizzled within eight. The more powerful a jutsu, generally, the shorter the range its caster could manage while still keeping the jutsu's effects under control. Did that mean fifteen meters was the absolute limit of Iebara's range, and that further inside—say, ten meters—his control might be shaky, not absolute? Ryouma tried to remember how far apart they'd been when the Kiri nin wrenched the blood from his veins, but all he could remember was the dark wet ribbon ripping out of his shoulder, and the pain.

"I'm going to touch you now," Genma said, and Ryouma looked back, startled, as Genma's glowing hand closed on his bleeding shoulder. Genma'd remembered Ryouma didn't react well to being touched without warning. But his mind was clearly somewhere else, following the trail Ryouma had laid, even as the warmth of his chakra sank into Ryouma's shoulder and the healing flesh began to sting and itch. "He cut us when he wanted blood to use. That jutsu probably needs the blood to come from a living source to manipulate it like that. Blood cells have chakra outside the body, but the minute the blood's exposed to air, it starts to die."

Which explained why Iebara hadn't pulled the dried blood from Ryouma and Kakashi's uniforms, or from the shallow gouges over the backs of Ryouma's fingers where Tsuto Sakako's broken nails had caught his skin. And why he hadn't recalled the blood that splashed when he lost control of the first blood-knives, or of the broken garrotte that had dyed Kakashi's armor red.

"If we can keep from bleeding, and keep Hound from bleeding, we'll have an advantage," Genma said. He turned his head, glancing back into the wood, where a fitful flicker of white and red light clashed, broken apart, and vanished again. "I've got a jutsu that will trash the metal in his blades, if I can get within five meters."

"And I've got a jutsu that'll turn his insides to soup, if I can get within five meters." Ryouma twitched his shoulder out from under Genma's hand, inspected the pink-knotted line of the closed wound, and nodded. "I can't take a risk when he's too close to Hound, though—it's why I had to use fire earlier, instead of rot. But if we can draw him off Hound, and you distract him, I'll get him."