Hayashi found his rhythm with the very first slash.
The Tachi cleaved through the air, and senjutsu chakra swept chips of stone, grass, and dirt off its edge, condensing into a translucent air blade.
A second slash. A third.
He stood where he was, slashing again and again. Air blades poured forth without pause, wave after wave bearing down on Zabuza in the stream.
-Plenty of time left. Enough to burn through it until the fight was over.
Clang! Clang! Clang-clang-clang-!
Zabuza swung his great sword into a wall, putting its flat, spine, and hilt to use-every inch of it. The air blades struck it in showers of sparks.
The webbing between his thumbs and forefingers began to split. His arms began to go numb.
By the time he had blocked the barrage, he had been driven step by step into the middle of the stream. Water covered his calves, soaking his trouser legs through.
"Haaah-!!" he roared, sweeping his great sword sideways and smashing the final air blade apart.
Then he stood there, leaning on his sword, his chest heaving as he gulped for breath.
"Brat." He steadied his breathing, then suddenly spoke. "How... old are you?"
Hayashi blinked.
Then he actually raised a hand and counted on his fingers with a perfectly serious air.
"One, two... right, twelve." He looked up and smiled at Zabuza. "I'm only twelve."
Zabuza fell silent.
Twelve.
What had he been doing at twelve? Standing in pools of blood in Kirigakure, slaughtering every last graduate in his class.
Back then, the whole village had called him a monster.
But compared to the red-haired monster before him, the boy he had been back then-
He suddenly chuckled under his breath.
His laughter grew louder and louder, until his shoulders shook.
The