| [Dec. 22nd, 2013|05:07 am] |
Katsuko grinned like a red-light warning and came at him with a humming cage of steel, swords blurring almost faster than a regular eye could track. He blocked the initial charge and mirror-stepped with her, following the five technique pattern of her nitou seihou. At its central core, her style matched her affinities: all the ferocity of fire blended with the evasive grace of wind, which made her a lot like lightning. Fast, and hard to hit. But if he could cut real lightning—
She leapt high, chakra punching a deep gash in the turf, and flipped over him. Kakashi twisted, ready to catch the final step that would try to carve his spine out.
She wasn’t there.
She dropped like a comet a full beat after he’d expected, and landed on his kodachi, balanced on the razor edge with precise chakra-control he hadn’t thought she was capable of. The weight hit his shoulder. He slammed chakra through his muscles, changing his stance to compensate, and knifed his tanto for her knee.
Katsuko kicked him in the face, hard, on the blind side.
Pain shot through his cheekbone. Steel connected with flesh—not her knee; felt like her calf—and seeing stars killed his follow-through. She hooked his kodachi out of his hand with a savage twist that nearly broke his fingers, and vaulted away. He dropped back, trying to clear his vision.
Katsuko followed, chakra blazing.
He blocked two strikes with his tanto, ducked the third. Her katana whistled over his head, too close; strands of grey hair sheared into the wind. She slammed a knee up at his face. He jerked backwards, feinted, got around her, and sliced for the nape of her neck. She evaded like an eel and swung back at him, blades hammering down.
He caught both hits, steel striking sparks.
The tanto creaked. Strain shivered through the blade. He’d already had it reforged once, and it wasn’t designed to be used this way. Katsuko’s eyes flicked towards his hand, knowing. She grinned, disengaged, and brought her swords down together, full weight of steel and chakra clanging down on his tanto like an anvil.
A second before the blade snapped, Kakashi let his guard break.
The tanto spun away, shining in the moon’s fragmented glow, and Katsuko hit him like an oncoming storm. He went down in a welter of torn grass and obliterated dignity for the second time tonight, breath slamming out of his lungs. When the dust settled, her knee was on his chest, and her swords were at his throat.
“My win,” Katsuko said, voice curling low. “Why did you let me break your guard?”
“I like that tanto,” Kakashi rasped. |
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