Battle Atop Hokage Rock Under the Moon

By the time the moon rose from behind the eastern ridge, Chiba was already standing atop the First Hokage's stone head on Hokage Rock.

From this angle, Konoha Village stretched out below him, packed with dense lights and rooftops. The night wind rushed up from the valley, carrying Konoha's distinctive mingled scent of cooking smoke, grass, and trees.

Uzuki Yugao stood at the edge of the platform on the statue's forehead, her back to Chiba. Her long purple hair took on a cool silver-violet hue beneath the moonlight, while the standard ANBU combat uniform tightly outlined her figure.

The long sword on her back reflected a sliver of icy silver light beneath the moon.

Chiba stood at the other end of the platform, a willow branch resting across his shoulder. About fifteen meters separated them.

Yugao turned around.

She still wore her ANBU mask. The white fox mask covered most of her face, revealing only her lips and chin. Her lips were thin and sharp, and her jawline cleanly defined.

"Senju Chiba."

Her voice was younger than Chiba had expected—cool and clear, without unnecessary inflection. Every word seemed to bounce off a blade's edge.

"Captain Yugao, standing on Grandpa First's head in the middle of the night to catch the wind—aren't you cold?"

Chiba patted the willow branch on his shoulder, his tone as casual as if greeting a neighbor.

"Lord Third Hokage sent me."

Yugao had no intention of exchanging pleasantries. Her right hand had already settled on the hilt of the long sword behind her, her fingers closing around its sharkskin-wrapped grip.

"What did he send you here for? A spar? A test? Or are we getting straight to it?"

"To discuss swordsmanship."

Chiba chuckled, took the willow branch from his shoulder, and held it in his right hand. The tail end of the branch drooped and swayed in the wind.

"To discuss swordsmanship, he sends the captain of ANBU's Sixth Squad, picks the top of Hokage Rock in the middle of the night... Do you ANBU people always make duels this ceremonial?"

Yugao's lips tightened slightly—the only visible change in expression beneath her mask.

"The strength Lord Chiba displayed at today's exchange far exceeded Konoha's current intelligence assessment. Lord Hokage requires more accurate data."

"So you're the tool they sent to collect it."

"I am ANBU. Carrying out missions is my duty."

Chiba took two steps forward, spinning the willow branch once in his hand. Its leaves cut through the air with a soft rustle.

"Captain Yugao, let me ask you something."

"Please."

"How many years have you practiced your Konoha-Style Swordsmanship?"

Yugao lifted her chin slightly. It was the pride of a swordswoman, something she would never put away before anyone.

"Fourteen years."

"Fourteen years. How many hours a day?"

"More than six hours."

Chiba stopped walking. The distance between them had narrowed to ten meters.

"Fourteen years, six hours every day. You poured the best years of your life into a sword, and then one order from the Third sends you running over as a scout to probe someone else's depths."

Chiba held the willow branch upright before him, its tip pointing toward the sky. A green willow branch looked absurdly casual beneath the moonlight.

"Don't you think that's a loss?"

Behind the mask, Yugao's lips drew tight.

"ANBU does not discuss the meaning of missions."

"Fine. Then we won't."

Chiba held the willow branch horizontally before him, gripping it one-third of the way down with his right hand while his left loosely cupped the tail end. His posture was slack and loose, nothing like a proper opening stance.

"Captain Yugao, I'm rather curious about your Konoha Style. Come on, let me see what fourteen years of swordsmanship is worth."

Yugao released her grip on the hilt for a second, then clenched it again.

"Lord Chiba, you intend to use a willow branch?"

"It'll do."

"This is an insult to Konoha-Style Swordsmanship."

Chiba tilted his head. Moonlight slid across the side of his face, and the faint curve of his lips was just irritating enough to invite a punch.

"Then beat me, and I'll apologize to your face."

Three seconds of silence passed.

The wind atop Hokage Rock grew stronger. Uzuki Yugao's purple hair was blown to one side of her mask, exposing her right ear and a small stretch of fair neck behind it.

Her right hand adjusted its grip on the hilt, her thumb pressing against the base of the sword's guard. It was the standard opening stance of Konoha Style Iaijutsu.

"ANBU Uzuki Yugao requests Lord Chiba's instruction in Konoha-Style Swordsmanship."

The instant her words fell, her figure vanished.

It was not the Body Flicker Technique, but pure explosive leg strength combined with footwork honed through years of ANBU training. Her toes tapped the stone surface, and her entire body became a silver-violet afterimage shooting straight toward Chiba.

Her long sword left its sheath during the charge. Metal scraped against the inner wall of the scabbard with a piercing hiss, and the blade flashed into a complete silver line beneath the moonlight.

Its tip pointed at Chiba's throat.

She was fast—at least a full tier faster than Asuma. There was not a trace of unnecessary sway in her movements, and her control over her center of gravity was crisp and precise.

Chiba did not retreat.

He shifted his center of gravity three inches to the left. The willow branch changed from a horizontal hold to a downward diagonal angle, its front end aimed at the middle of Yugao's blade.

Yugao's sword reached a point one meter before Chiba.

Then she changed moves.

The straight line aimed at his throat suddenly veered in the final half meter. The blade shifted from a thrust to a horizontal slash, its trajectory sliding from his throat to his right ribs.

The transition was seamless, without the slightest hitch. Her shoulder, elbow, and wrist adjusted their angles within the same beat, the blade tracing a beautiful, fluid arc.

A faint blue-green gleam flashed through Chiba's eyes.

His dynamic vision, enhanced by the balance of yin and yang, processed information even more precisely than an ordinary three-tomoe Sharingan. Every detail of Yugao's muscle contractions as she changed moves broke down into slow motion.

Her shoulder moved first by three-tenths of a second. Her elbow followed with a fifteen-degree turn. Her wrist twisted last. The point of force was in the pronator teres of her forearm.

He saw it clearly.

The willow branch in Chiba's right hand moved.