Zabuza Momochi! That Kubikiribōchō of Yours Looks Good!

A teeth-grating scrape of metal came from deep within the mist.

The sound was sharp and piercing, like a blade tip dragged across stone—or some enormous beast grinding its teeth.

It drew closer, growing clearer and more frequent, until the same metallic shriek seemed to echo from every direction.

"Wh-what's that sound?"

Naruto's palm was slick with sweat around his kunai. His blue eyes searched the mist desperately for its source.

Kakashi stopped reading. He gently closed Icha Icha Paradise and slipped it into his ninja pouch.

He raised his left hand and pushed up his slanted forehead protector, revealing the eye beneath it.

A scarlet Sharingan, its three tomoe turning slowly.

"It's here." The usual laziness had vanished from Kakashi's voice.

Before he finished speaking, a massive blade the size of a door howled out of the mist. Driven by a devastating gust, it slashed straight toward Tazuna.

It was too fast.

Naruto barely caught a white arc cutting through the mist!

Sakura still stood frozen, without time to react.

Sasuke had only taken one step when he realized he could never catch that blade.

Only Kakashi moved.

His Body Flicker Technique cracked through the air. He became a blur before Tazuna, raising his kunai across the path of the enormous blade.

CLANG!

The clash of metal nearly tore through everyone's eardrums.

Two spiderwebs of cracks spread across the ground beneath Kakashi's feet. Gravel flew, and the shockwave blasted a clearing more than ten meters wide through the dense mist.

Yet he held the enormous blade at bay with a single kunai.

Its wielder slowly emerged from the mist.

He was a tall man with a bare chest and short, gray-white hair standing on end. Layers of bandages covered the lower half of his face, leaving only a pair of eyebrowless eyes exposed.

Those eyes looked as though they had been dredged from hell, their pupils churning with pure murderous intent and bloodthirsty excitement.

Zabuza Momochi, a rogue ninja of Kirigakure.

And the Kubikiribōchō.

"Konoha's Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake?" Zabuza's voice came from beneath his bandages, playful as a cat toying with a mouse. "No wonder those two useless Demon Brothers failed. You were here."

Kakashi kept his Sharingan locked on Zabuza. His kunai held steady against the Kubikiribōchō's edge, though the force bearing down through its handle left the web of his hand faintly numb.

"Zabuza Momochi, an S-rank rogue ninja of Kirigakure. I didn't expect to run into you here."

"Oh? You know me?" The amusement in Zabuza's eyes deepened.

"One of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, wielder of the Kubikiribōchō, and a master of Kirigakure's assassination techniques."

"The bounty on your head across the Five Great Nations is nothing to sneeze at." Kakashi's tone remained lazy, but not a muscle in his body relaxed. "Honestly, though, I'm not sure you're worth the money."

Zabuza narrowed his eyes.

The next instant, they both pushed off. Kunai and Kubikiribōchō scraped apart with a shriek, scattering sparks.

Then both of them vanished.

They were too fast.

The naked eye could barely follow two blurred figures colliding, crossing, and breaking apart in midair. Every contact rang with clashing metal and sent shockwaves rippling outward.

Gravel on the ground rattled, while deep gouges burst open one after another across the roadside trees.

Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura stood rooted to the spot, utterly stunned.

This was their first time seeing a fight between Jōnin.

It was no staged demonstration by an academy teacher, no cautious exchange between Genin. This was a fight to the death.

Every movement was precise to the slightest degree. Every attack went for a vital point. There were no wasted motions, no pointless lectures.

Fast. Far too fast.

Naruto could not even make out Kakashi and Zabuza. He saw only two indistinct shapes colliding in the mist, separating, then colliding again.

Sasuke's Sharingan could track their movements, but his body could not react in time.

Sakura's hand trembled around her kunai—not from fear, but because her instincts told her she had no place in a fight at this level.

"So this is... how Jōnin fight?" Naruto's voice came out dry and strained.

No one answered him.

Sasuke and Sakura were just as speechless.

Zuo Hao stood at the back of the group, hands in his pockets, his expression nothing like the other three's.

He was not shocked, afraid, or even tense.

He simply tilted his head and watched Kakashi and Zabuza weave past each other in midair. A faint, ambiguous smile played on his lips, as though he were watching a decent show.

In the space of a few breaths, Kakashi and Zabuza had already exchanged more than twenty blows.

The door-sized Kubikiribōchō seemed weightless in Zabuza's hands. He hacked, slashed, swept, and thrust, every strike carrying the force to split stone.

Kakashi's kunai was small by comparison, yet in his hands it became an impenetrable iron wall. Every block turned aside a slash at precisely the right moment, and he even found openings to counterattack.

They were evenly matched.

Truly evenly matched.

Just then, Zabuza abruptly pulled back. His feet carved two long white trails across the lake's surface.

He formed hand seals with one hand and held the Kubikiribōchō across his body with the other. Dense mist rapidly gathered around him.

"Hidden Mist Technique."

Zabuza disappeared into the mist. His voice came from every direction at once, impossible to place.

"Eight places: throat, spine, lungs, liver, carotid artery, subclavian artery, kidneys, heart. Guess which one I'll stab first?"

Kakashi landed on the shore in a crouch. His Sharingan kept turning as he searched for Zabuza, and his breathing had grown a little faster.

"Sasuke, Naruto, Sakura," Kakashi said quietly. "Protect Tazuna! Don't leave his side for a second."

Just as Zabuza was about to deliver a killing blow, a voice sounded from the shore.

"Hey."

Zuo Hao spoke without hurry, as casually as someone pointing out which cabbage looked good at a market stall.

"That sword you're holding—is it the Kubikiribōchō?"

Zabuza paused for an instant.

Within the thick mist, his eyebrowless eyes turned toward the voice and settled on the black-haired boy standing there with his hands in his pockets and a carefree look on his face.

Zuo Hao tilted his head. The curve of his lips rose a little higher.

"Nice sword."

He paused.

Then, in the matter-of-fact tone of someone appraising a decent kitchen knife, he spoke again.

"That Kubikiribōchō of yours looks good. I could use a weapon that fits my hand. Mind if I borrow it?"