Reborn in the Mist

“Alright, Kisame, Fuguki, there will be two phases to this challenge duel.” The Fourth Mizukage began in a calm commanding voice as he looked between them, “The first is what I’m sure you’ve prepared for, the combat phase. You choose your bladed weapon and keep in mind that you’re not duelling to kill or maim, that will not favour you in the slightest.”

Fuguki grinned balefully at Kisame a few feet shorter. Kisame licked his lips in response. The Mizukage seemed to tire with them as he rolled his eyes and skipped more warnings to get to his next point, “The next phase would be the duel for compatibility. Samehada has always chosen its wielders, it’s semi-sentient that way and so we’ll treat it as such. Whoever wins its favour along with the combat phase will secure the right to wield it, understood? Good, now, begin!”

Kisame leaped away right as the Mizukage did, stealing some space for himself as Fuguki slowly unsheathed his katana. Both of them had chosen to use katanas for this duel and for good reason. Both himself and Fuguki weren’t wearing their usual shinobi attire, instead they paid homage to the ancient and first of the Seven Swordsmen with a loose fitted, cotton cloth Samurai outfit that had zero armoured areas.

Fuguki, looking like a giant orange panda of a Samurai, began pacing along the edge, forcing Kisame to pace as well, watching his opponent as keenly as he was watched. Their katanas allowed them the advantage of strategic engagement length, but with Fuguki’s incredulous size, Kisame naturally has to compensate with a longer blade than his opponent. A longer blade, despite its reach, meant it’d be heavier to heft.

But that was a non-issue for Kisame at the moment, the were merely dressing up as the Samurai the first Seven Swordsmen were but they were shinobi. Chakra enhancements may not be allowed in their duel but Kisame’s body has trained with heavier objects, the Legendary Blade he fought for now was far longer and heavier even. Such a little handicap would be no problem for Kisame to overcome, he merely had to win.

By now Kisame had come around to where Fuguki stood at the beginning and neither side had made the first lunge. Kisame took this as a good sign; he wasn’t being underestimated. He had it ringing in his head over and over with each careful step as he paced around Fuguki not to underestimate the man he’d come to know as leader. His might as a shinobi may be held up by his proficiency with Water and Yin Release but he was just as good as Kisame with a blade, perhaps even more experienced even if Kisame was sure he was more skilled.

Either way, Kisame was grateful for the time he’d had to study the man’s careful foot placement as he noticed the moment he became ready to attack. Rather than let him make the first move, Kisame lunged out in a blink, his katana slicing toward Fuguki’s startled eyes.

The larger man leaned comfortably past the attack and stabbed at Kisame’s unguarded torso. Kisame twisted around the blade, his lith figure supplying him with far more flexibility than Fuguki’s would allow. He doubled down on his assault and brought his katana down at Fuguki’s unprotected thighs only to curse as the man unnaturally caught his katana with the sole of his slippers, capitalizing on that contact to kick his foot at Kisame.

A cornered Suikazan is a savage eh? Kisame thought as he slid through the sand, his katana bearing the brunt of Fuguki’s repelling kick. The man quickly moved away from the edge of the stage, coming closer with his katana firmly in his grasp. There was a glint of glee and bloodthirst in his eyes as he marched closer, a feeling Kisame matched with ease.

The two battle eager shinobi met in the middle, their initial clash grinding sparks of flame in their grinning faces and glinted eyes. Not a word passed between them as they disengaged. Kisame brought his sword up to slice open Fuguki’s stomach but Fuguki was faster and deflected the blade. Kisame let himself be carried by the momentum and fell past Fuguki’s guard so they switch places. He lurched and was met with a hefty strike against his katana’s length.

Kisame flinched at the strength behind the blow but wasn’t deterred, he was assured his katana was made of the best steel his clan could afford, which, by default, was the best. Suikazan was a self-made man to an extent but Kisame wouldn’t be shamed for using every resource available to him to succeed.

He leaped, taking to the air for a savage downward slice at Fuguki’s nigh unreachable head but the man was prepared. He blocked the strike and all of Kisame’s weight behind it with gritted teeth but Kisame wasn’t a Hoshigaki for no reason. His freefalling feet found purchase in Fuguki’s face and sternum, landing solid kicks there as he bounced off the larger man and back to stance a few metres away.

Fuguki growls, swiped his bloody nose and reasserted his grip on his katana. This time he dashed forth before Kisame could choose a direction to escape into, forcing the him to stand his ground and parry Fuguki’s punishing strikes.

Kisame’s eyes widened, his mind raced as he tried to keep up with Fuguki’s rattling blows and feints, trying with all his might not to lose the pride of first blood to the orange haired man. Each strike sent thorough vibrations through his katana, rattling all the way to his bone and threatening to shake the weapon out of his hands.

I won’t allow it! Rather than remain on the defensive, Kisame shifted his footing and began to press what few openings to deliver strikes of his own. Fuguki chuckled and the mere sound infuriated him to fuel his stirkes with more power.

Fuguki fell on the defence, though his bloody smirk made it seem otherwise. Kisame kept up his assault and Fuguki parried each with practised ease, barely buckling under the pressure Kisame was mounting on his blade. The larger man was overtly aware of the edge of the stage as well and ensured Kisame’s strikes and blows were met with proper foot placement, avoiding the edge and being cornered like he was at the start.

For three tortured minutes the only sounds were the clash of their blades, shuffle of their feet and the occasional free kicks and punches Kisame got in. Fuguki took on the full brunt of another attack but leaned forward into it, sliding his katana down the length of Kisame’s and grinding sparks as he went for a grab attack.

Kisame leaped away at the last moment, putting some distance between them at last. Fuguki doesn’t give chase, a thing he’s thankful for because after all those swings Kisame’s breathe was ragged and heavy. He narrowed his eyes at Fuguki, his chest was heaving but not nearly as much as his.

What…so that’s what this is. Kisame took in a deep breath and clutched his katana, Fuguki mirrored his action but didn’t move from his spot, all but verbally confirming his strategy. He wants to tire me out…and he’s actually doing it.

Kisame felt like smacking himself but left that for later, he’d finally noticed Fuguki’s heavy strikes were little more than a bait to get him to respond in kind and he did, expending his energy and draining the strength of his blade to smash and savage at Fuguki who merely blocked and parried it all.

He couldn’t fight Fuguki as though he were wielding Samehada truly nor could he fight as though he had chakra or its enhancements on his side. The only thing he could do was what Fuguki was already doing. Wait.

And so, Kisame got a grip of himself, set his stance straight and cleared his mind. Fuguki seemed to recognize the change as the mocking, baiting smirk he wore faded into a sharp glare. The larger man matched his stance and the two met in the middle, circling each other with the tips of their katanas an inch or so past the other.

This duel was going to be decided by one, loose opening and like Junko always told his impatient self; opportunities create themselves when no one’s looking.

Fuguki inhaled, shifted his foot and Kisame knew, he saw it and he took it. In a flash of movement, the two swordsmen dashed into the other, their blades becoming still as they stood in trance. Kisame heard his heart beat in his ears and his hand sensed the squelch of flesh, he’d dodged Fuguki’s blade by an inch, traded a sliced up bicep for a stab through the larger man’s abdomen.

“Halt!” the Mizukage descended, had a look and simply nodded at Kisame as Fuguki stumbled back, taking his both katanas with him.

Fuguki himself didn’t look displeased, merely annoyed, either by the fact that he had a katana sticking out of him or that Kisame had won, it didn’t matter, because all that was left now was to command the Shark Skin Blade to his will.