Chapter 17: The Demon of the Mist
Ultimately, strengthening mental fortitude was the most direct counter to the Kyuubi's interference. It wasn't a perfect solution, but for Naruto, drowning out the internal static with sheer force of will was the most immediate path forward.
To avoid further ambushes, Kakashi ordered a forced march. Naruto, with his significant stamina, ended up carrying the terrified Tazuna on his back for the final leg. They moved at shinobi speed, covering in half a day what would have taken the old man three. The forest gave way to the sound of rushing water, and soon the broad expanse of a river delta opened before them, the salty tang of the sea on the breeze. The coast, and the boats to the Land of Waves, were near.
Kakashi's relaxed demeanor had vanished. His single visible eye was sharp, constantly scanning their surroundings, his book tucked away. The air itself felt heavier, pregnant with a damp, cold menace.
Zabuza, Naruto thought, his own senses stretching taut. The ghost of the Mist was here. He drew a kunai, his playful contemplations about chakra control shelved. Survival was the only curriculum now.
The others felt it too. Sasuke mirrored Naruto, kunai held low and ready, her Byakugan-less eyes narrowed. Sakura positioned herself defensively near Tazuna, her knuckles white on her own weapon. The carefree mood of the journey was dead.
Tazuna, trembling, broke the tense silence. "M-Mr. Ninja… is… is he here?"
Kakashi didn't answer. He was tracking a faint, elusive killing intent that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere. This… this is professional. Far beyond those thugs. A chill unrelated to the coastal mist touched his spine. What had this drunk old man truly gotten them into?
A rough, mocking laugh echoed from the trees ahead. "Show yourself!" Kakashi barked, his head snapping toward the sound.
It was a feint.
The real attack came from behind, silent and devastating. The only warning was the sudden whoosh of displaced air—a massive, spinning cleaver, the Kubikiribōchō, scything through the space where Tazuna stood.
Naruto's reflexes, tempered by a thousand clone-sparred scenarios, fired. He saw the trajectory, calculated the intercept. He was already turning, kunai coming up in a desperate parry.
"Get down!"
"Move!"
His shout and Kakashi's overlapped. Sasuke acted on instinct, shoving Tazuna and Sakura into the dirt while throwing herself sideways.
CLANG!
Naruto's kunai met the leading edge of the giant sword. The impact was monstrous. A shower of sparks erupted, and a jolt of paralyzing force shot up Naruto's arm. He was thrown backward, skidding through the dirt and gravel for a dozen feet before catching his balance, his arm screaming in protest.
But he'd done it. The sword's path was altered. It slammed into a thick tree trunk a foot above the cowering team, the blade biting deep with a solid thunk.
And there, standing casually on the sword's broad hilt, was Momochi Zabuza. He looked down on them, his face obscured by bandages, his presence a wave of palpable, blood-soaked aura.
"Heh… so it's just a bunch of brats," he drawled, his voice like gravel rolling in a tide.
The dismissive tone was a spark to tinder for Sasuke. The humiliation of being forced to dive, the sheer arrogance of the man—it ignited her pride. "You bastard! Who are you calling a brat?!" She tensed to leap.
"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" Kakashi's voice was a whip-crack of command, freezing her in place. His gaze never left Zabuza. "All three of you! Your only mission is to protect Tazuna! This opponent is beyond you. Do not interfere!" The unspoken gravity in his voice was unmistakable. This was a jonin-level threat.
Sasuke bit her lip hard, fury and frustration warring with the cold logic of Kakashi's order. She stepped back, seething.
Zabuza introduced himself with chilling nonchalance, his conversation with Kakashi a duel of threats and acknowledged reputations. The air between the two men grew thick, saturated with a killing intent so dense it felt like a physical weight. Sakura gasped, feeling as if she were trying to breathe mud. Sasuke trembled, not from fear, but from the strain of resisting the oppressive aura.
Naruto, however, simply adjusted his grip on his kunai and stepped firmly in front of Tazuna and the girls. The Kyuubi's hatred was a bonfire compared to this campfire of malice. He weathered it with a calm that was both practiced and alien. He became a wall, absorbing the worst of the pressure so Sasuke and Sakura could function.
"Hoh? This one's got a spine," Zabuza noted, his bandaged head tilting toward Naruto. "What's your name, kid?"
Kakashi had no time for commentary. The battle was joined.
It was a spectacle of speed and lethality that left the genin breathless. Blurs of motion, the crash of weapons, explosive ninjutsu—Kakashi and Zabuza moved in a realm the kids could barely perceive. Naruto's eyes tracked them with intense focus, analyzing, learning, but even he felt a humbling distance from their skill.
Then, the critical mistake. A split-second lapse, a Water Clone substitution, and Kakashi was trapped, encased up to his neck in a sphere of water held by Zabuza's main body—the Water Prison Technique.
"Damn it!" Kakashi's thought was a silent scream. He looked past Zabuza's grinning water clone toward his team. Run! Get out of here!
But they didn't run. Sasuke, pride burning away the last of the killing intent's chill, stepped forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Naruto, her Sharingan-less eyes blazing with defiant challenge. Sakura, pale but determined, tightened her stance in front of Tazuna.
Zabuza's water clone chuckled. "Sentimental fools. Even one-tenth of my power is enough to grind you into the mud."
"Is that so?" Naruto's voice cut through the tension, not with bravado, but with cool assessment. He glanced at Sasuke. "Don't be intimidated. He's not invincible."
Sasuke's eyes flicked to him, a flicker of surprise at his composure. "You have a plan?"
"A theory," Naruto said, his hands coming together. "Let's test it. Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
POOF-POOF-POOF-POOF—!
The riverbank was suddenly crowded. Not a dozen, not two dozen, but over a hundred Naruto Uzumakis stood in a packed formation, a sea of orange and blond facing down the single, smirking water clone of Zabuza.
The clone's smirk faltered. This chakra expenditure… for a genin? The math of the situation changed. A hundred enemies, even weak ones, could overwhelm a tenth of his power if coordinated.
"Not bad!" the clone conceded, its stance shifting from contempt to wary readiness. "But numbers alone won't save you!"
"Sakura! Protect Tazuna!" the real Naruto yelled from within the crowd. Then, with a unified roar, the hundred clones surged forward.
It was chaos. The Zabuza clone was a whirlwind of motion, his water-formed sword slicing through clones in puffs of smoke. He was efficient, deadly, but he was one. Dozens of Narutos fell, but others closed in, grappling, striking, buying fractions of a second.
Naruto's main body didn't aim to win with the clones. He aimed to create an opportunity. As the last of the clones launched a concerted, suicidal rush, they dispelled not from injury, but on his command.
POOFOOFOOF—!
A colossal, blinding cloud of white smoke erupted, enveloping the Zabuza clone completely, obscuring its vision.
"NOW, SASUKE!" Naruto shouted.
She was already moving. While the clones had charged, she had been weaving signs, gathering chakra. She dashed to the flank, clear of the smoke, and took a deep, focused breath.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
A roaring sphere of flame, hotter and more concentrated than her last, shot from her lips. It didn't aim for the smoke—it aimed for the ground in front of it, for the puddles and damp earth. The fireball hit with explosive force, superheating the water into a billowing, scalding steam cloud that merged with the clone smoke, creating a vast, impenetrable fog bank.
From within the water prison, Kakashi watched, a stunned hope cutting through his desperation. They're coordinating. They're using misdirection and combined elements. It was crude, but it was intelligent. It was the first, fragile spark of true teamwork.
In the heart of the steam and smoke, the Zabuza water clone snarled, blinded and disoriented. The numerical assault had been a screen. The real attack was environmental, a collaborative trap sprung by the two genin he'd written off as children.
The fight for Tazuna, and for Kakashi's life, was no longer a one-sided slaughter. It had become a desperate, three-dimensional game. And Naruto and Sasuke had just made their first move together.