The twenty-five Iwa shinobi stood arrayed across the far end of the Tanuki Bridge. It was a wall of muscle, hardened earth, and cold intent. The Broad Iwa-nin in front, the bait for the trap, let out a low chuckle that held no humor.
"What's the matter, Sarutobi pup?" he called out, his voice echoing across the empty space between them. "All alone? Your little friends ran and left you to die? Finally realize how outmatched you—"
Yosuke's hand moved.
It wasn't a dramatic flourish. It was a simple, deliberate motion. His fingers closed around the hilt of the chokutō strapped to his back.
And the world changed.
A wave of heat exploded out from him. It wasn't the warm glow of a campfire. It was a dry, blistering, oppressive force—like the door of a massive furnace swinging open. The very air over the bridge wavered, distorting the image of the Iwa shinobi behind a shimmering haze.
The Broad Iwa-nin's taunt died in his throat. He took an involuntary step back, his eyes widening. The intense heat baked against his skin, sucked the moisture from his mouth, and made his eyes sting and water. For the first time, a flicker of doubt appeared in his gaze. This wasn't normal. This wasn't just fire-nature chakra. This was something else.
Hundreds of meters away, deep within the village, Team Shikadou skidded to a sudden halt.
Koizumi Yuka gasped, clutching a hand to her chest. Her breath hitched. "W-What is that?" she whispered, her voice trembling. The air around them had suddenly grown thick and hot, difficult to breathe.
Yuhi Hisako froze, her head snapping back towards the bridge. Her face, usually so full of cheerful energy, was pale. She knew that feeling. She'd only felt it once before, on a mission that had gone horribly wrong. "Taichō..." she breathed, her voice a mix of fear and awe.
Aburame Shoji simply stopped. The faint, constant buzzing of his kikaichū intensified for a moment, the insects agitated by the sudden, violent surge of chakra from so far away.
Uchiha Eiji, who moments before had been fuming from Yosuke's rebuke, felt the arrogance drain from him, replaced by a cold, sinking feeling in his gut. His single tomoe Sharingan spun uselessly, unable to process anything but the overwhelming, terrifying pressure that washed over them.
Even Nara Shikadou, the lazy jonin, stopped. All pretense of boredom vanished from his face, replaced by a look of pure, unvarnished shock. He stared in the direction of the bridge, as if he could see through the buildings. "...That heat..." he muttered, his voice low and serious. "Don't tell me. The Shakunetsuken (Scorching Heat Blade). The kid's really not holding back at all." He shook his head, a grim respect in his eyes. "Let's go. We have our own job to do. That's his fight now."
Back on the bridge, the moment of stunned shock was all Yosuke needed.
There was no shout. No battle cry. Only a sound—a sharp, searing HISS that cut through the heavy air, like a red-hot blade being plunged into water.
"Ninpō: Hinokami Kagura - Shinden Issen." (Ninja Art: Dance of the Fire God - Scorching Flash)
His voice was calm. Flat. A simple statement of fact.
A line of pure, white-hot energy cut a vertical seam through the world. It was there and gone in the space of a single heartbeat.
The lone Iwa nin blinked. His mouth opened. "Wha...huh?"
He didn't feel pain. There was only a strange, cold sensation followed by an immense heat. A perfect, thin red line appeared down the center of his face, his chest, his entire body. For a second, he stood there, split in two.
Then, the two halves of his body slid apart. But there was no blood. No gore. The edges of the wound were blackened and burning, the flesh and bone instantly cauterized by the unimaginable heat. The two pieces crumpled to the wooden planks of the bridge, not as a corpse, but as two smoldering, crumbling husks, the insides glowing with a faint orange ember. The smell that hit the other Iwa shinobi was not of death, but of ozone, ash, and cooked meat.
The silence that followed was heavier than any sound.
Twenty-four sets of eyes stared, uncomprehending, at the scorch marks on the bridge where their comrade had just been standing.
Then, the silence shattered.
"BASTARD!"
"WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
"GET HIM! NOW!"
Fear turned into rage. Twenty-four sets of hands flew through hand seals. The air itself vibrated with the gathering of chakra.
"Doton: Doryūdan!" (Earth Style: Earth Dragon Projectile)
"Doton: Iwa no Ame!" (Earth Style: Rain of Rocks)
"Doton: Shinjū Zanshu no Jutsu!" (Earth Style: Double Decapitation Technique)
The very bridge trembled. A dragon made of rock and soil erupted from the far end, roaring towards him. The sky above Yosuke darkened with a hail of sharpened stones. The ground beneath his feet began to soften, eager to swallow him whole.
Yosuke's hands were already moving, having finished their seals the moment his sword strike landed.
"Doton: Doryū no Maru." (Earth Style: Earth Dome)
The earth of the bridge itself obeyed his command. It erupted upwards around him, not in a wall, but in a perfect, solid sphere, encasing him completely just as the avalanche of enemy jutsu arrived.
The sound was deafening. A thunderous, crashing BOOM that shook the Tanuki Bridge to its foundations. The dragon of earth smashed against the dome, exploding into a thousand pieces. Rocks rained down upon it, shattering and bouncing off the hardened shell. The entire structure groaned in protest.
Dust and debris billowed out in a massive cloud, blinding the Iwa shinobi for a crucial few seconds.
Inside his dark, earthen shell, surrounded by the muffled, terrifying symphony of destruction, Sarutobi Yosuke took a single, steadying breath. The air was hot and tasted of dirt.
His expression, unseen in the darkness, hadn't changed. The first move was over.
Now, the real battle began.