Chương 52: Iron-Cutting

"If you'll admit this Sand genin's strength is satisfactory, an apology will do."

"..." Shin frowned. If the fan had more power to give, kunai and shuriken were almost useless. And all he had beyond those were the Three Basic Jutsu, taijutsu — and one Fire Release technique he'd used exactly once and still couldn't control. The Three-Star Fan's jutsu also made a frontal approach nearly impossible. He couldn't brute-force this. This girl was on an entirely different level from Daimaru. Shin pushed the loose hair back from his face, raking it behind his head. Three shuriken left. Two kunai...

He took quick stock of his pouch and grimaced inwardly. First real fight against a shinobi, and he was learning lessons the hard way. Should've rationed the shuriken... He drew another kunai and settled into his stance. Temari saw the gesture, and amusement flickered across her face. She snapped the fan shut, held it two-handed at chest height, and took a combat posture of her own. A breeze stirred the courtyard. Shin launched. He became an arrow — straight at Temari, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

The fan opened. One purple circle. Temari swung from the base, the Three-Star Fan carving a semicircle through the air. A gust twice as large as the first one erupted forward, tearing toward Shin. His eyes locked on. He leapt — twisting through the air, rising over the wall of wind, arcing toward Temari's position.

"Fool." Cold laughter. Temari swung again, driving a second blast upward at Shin while he hung in the air with nothing to push off from. But a single shuriken was already spinning — curving in a massive, impossible arc that bent nearly ninety degrees around the wind and streaked toward Temari's flank. The trajectory was too strange. Temari didn't dare block it with the fan. She abandoned her stance and threw herself sideways.

The shuriken screamed past where she'd been standing and changed direction again as it arrived. If she'd tried to catch it on the fan, she'd have been cut. Above, the wind caught Shin full. He was slammed to the ground, staggering backward several steps before finding his footing.

"Your shuriken really are something," Temari said, eyeing the one now embedded in the dirt where she'd been standing. What she didn't say: among every genin she knew, not one could have produced that kind of curve.

"Thanks," Shin said with a small nod. Two left...

"But that's no reason to be arrogant!" Temari's expression hardened. The fan opened further — a second purple circle appeared on its face. More power incoming... Shin tensed, watching her every move." Second Star!" Temari called out, gripping the base and swinging the fan in a wide semicircle before her. BOOM. The wind that erupted was orders of magnitude stronger. Leaves ripped from their stems, flower beds shredded, and razor-edged gusts screamed toward Shin in a churning wall of destruction.

He'd felt First Star. He was not about to stand in front of this. He ran. CRASH. Wind blades hammered into the wooden building behind him, carving deep gouges and ragged gaps into the timber. Shin glanced at the damage and felt his brow twitch. A direct hit from that would draw real blood.

"Hey, uh — this is getting kind of intense," Nora said from the veranda, looking uneasy.

"This is going to cause problems, right? The innkeeper's going to kill us." Temari flipped the fan upright and planted its base on the ground. It came up to her chest.

"Don't blame me if you get hurt," she said with a thin smile — and raised the Three-Star Fan again, both circles exposed. Here it comes. Shin watched her swing. Wind blades screamed toward him and he was already moving, dodging, sprinting. The jutsu tore across the courtyard, shredding the carefully tended garden into ruin. His hands flew through seals. Two additional Shins split from his body and scattered in opposite directions. Clone Jutsu... Temari narrowed her eyes.

Three identical figures, running three different ways — she couldn't tell which was real. No visible flaw, no obvious tell. All three drew kunai and converged on her simultaneously. The spread was wide enough that the Three-Star Fan couldn't cover all of them at once. Which one is real... Temari clenched her jaw. No time to deliberate — they were almost on top of her. She swung.

Wind blades tore into the center figure — but the instant before impact, the image warped and distorted, the blast passing clean through without resistance. Wrong one! Two figures remained, closing from the left and right. Temari snapped the fan shut and gripped it like a staff, choosing to meet the attack head-on. She pivoted and swung the closed fan at the figure on the left. A heavy, sweeping strike — the figure raised its kunai to block. The fan passed through empty air. Another illusion.

Temari felt the chill on her spine before she processed the thought. Clang! Kunai met iron. Temari had dropped low and swept the fan behind her back in time to catch Shin's strike from behind.

"Impressive clones," she said, voice low.

"Your reflexes aren't bad either," Shin replied. Temari's lips curved. She spun to face him, bringing the full weight of the fan around. Against the Three-Star Fan's bulk, a kunai was laughably small. She shoved forward and Shin skidded backward, unable to hold his ground. Distance opened, then Temari closed it — swinging the fan like a bludgeon. Shin met it with a shuriken in each hand, catching the blows as best he could. Clang! Clang! Clang! Up close, Temari fought with shocking aggression.

Shin was pinned on the defensive, giving ground with every exchange. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. He broke away, seizing a gap to put distance between them. Temari didn't chase. She stood where she was, opened the fan to show both purple circles, and watched him with that same cold smile. Shin's heart sank. He'd hoped close range would shift the advantage — but Temari was strong in melee too.

Fighting her with kunai against that oversized fan was a losing proposition.

"Well?" Temari spoke up.

"Made up your mind yet?" Her gaze flicked to the katana lying on the far veranda. That was the reason she hadn't pressed her advantage with Second Star — she was giving him the choice.

"What are you hesitating for?" Her tone sharpened into mockery.

"You looked pretty good practicing this morning." Shin settled into stance with a kunai in each hand. Temari's patience snapped. She swung the Three-Star Fan and sent a barrage of wind blades screaming toward him. He was already braced for it — he dodged, sprinting sideways. The blades sailed past and carved into the veranda behind him, ripping fresh gouges into the wood. Clang! The katana on the floorboards caught the edge of the blast.

The sheath rang like a bell and the weapon tumbled into the air, spinning end over end. Shin saw it — turned, leapt, and snatched the blade out of the air before it hit the ground. Temari's smile widened.

"..." The truth was simple. Shin hadn't wanted the sword because he was trying to measure himself as a shinobi — what he could do with ninja tools alone. It wasn't that the katana made him less of one. But now that he had a rough gauge of Temari's strength, drawing the sword would render the exercise pointless. The Three-Star Fan closed with a soft clack. Temari held it two-handed and reset her stance. Shin slipped the kunai back into his pouch.

His hand settled on the katana's grip — and a quiet sigh passed through him. Almost ten years since I last fought with a blade... …… Norikata Gotō pushed open his door and stopped. The courtyard was wrecked. Flower beds shredded, wooden railings carved with deep gouges, debris scattered across the ground. In the middle of it all, two figures faced each other — the boy and the Sand girl. His gaze dropped to the katana in Shin's hand. He said he didn't use a sword...

The girl was shinobi — Sand, judging by her headband. Norikata didn't know what had happened, so he stayed on the veranda, watching in silence. …… Shin's hair hung loose past his shoulders. His left hand tightened around the blade near the guard. His right settled on the grip, fingers tracing the wrapping — slow, almost tender. His expression went still. Not tense. Not focused. Just... quiet. Temari watched him. He wasn't moving. The seconds stretched. Her patience frayed.

She shifted her stance and swung the Three-Star Fan open — the first purple circle exposed." First Star!" BOOM. The fan swept forward and a wall of wind tore across the courtyard. Shin dropped low — a fraction of a second — then broke sideways. The gust screamed past where he'd been standing and scattered into nothing. A miss. Temari pushed the fan open further. The second purple circle appeared." Second Star!" But Shin was already moving. His speed had changed. Not incrementally — categorically.

One moment he was twenty paces away; the next he was closing the distance so fast the wind blades couldn't track him. Temari's eyes went wide. Fast—! No time to launch another jutsu. Temari snapped the fan shut and hauled it up in front of her, bracing for impact. Shhhhk. A flash of white. The katana cleared the scabbard in a single fluid motion — the draw so fast the blade was a smear of light, its trajectory invisible. Temari swung the Three-Star Fan to intercept. Steel met iron.

A shockwave of force slammed through her arms. Her hands went numb. The fan nearly flew from her grip. She planted her feet and pushed off the ground, launching herself backward to create distance. Shin didn't pursue. He stood where she'd been, both hands on the katana, and watched her land with an expression that gave away nothing. …… That blade... From the veranda, Norikata Gotō stared with his mouth half-open.

The speed was one thing — but for a child that size to generate that kind of impact force defied everything he knew about swordsmanship. Shin's gaze followed Temari. His face was unreadable. Inwardly, a quiet sigh passed through him. Temari's hands were still shaking around the fan's grip. The collision had rattled her to the bone. She looked at his body — smaller than hers — and couldn't reconcile it with the force she'd just absorbed. The speed, too. A full tier above what he'd shown before.

Could picking up a sword really change a person's physical capabilities that drastically? I can't trade blows with him... She made the decision instantly....... For a moment, the momentum seemed to have reversed entirely. Shin rested his left hand against the flat of the blade and let his gaze settle — slowly, it grew heavier. Shhk. He moved again. Faster than before. One hand on the katana, the other gripping the scabbard, he closed the distance at a dead sprint. Temari's stomach dropped.

He's even faster now— She swallowed the instinct to open the fan and attack. At this speed, hitting him with wind jutsu would be almost impossible. She needed a different answer. In the space of a blink, Shin was on her. He raised the katana to strike — and his eyes caught it. One of Temari's hands, half-hidden behind the fan, was forming a seal. Substitution... His gaze sharpened. The swing hesitated — a fraction of a beat — but his momentum didn't slow. Temari brought the Three-Star Fan up to meet him.

The instant blade touched iron, she felt it — the crushing force from before was gone. He'd pulled the strike. But her chakra was already flowing, the jutsu already committed. She bit down and let it trigger. Poof. The katana met no resistance. White smoke billowed where Temari had stood, and her body split apart — into two clean halves of a wooden log. Two figures burst from opposite sides. Not one Temari — two. They flanked him, boxing him in from the left and right. A clone too...

"Wind Scythe Jutsu!" Both Temaris formed seals simultaneously. A whirlwind erupted beneath Shin's feet and spiraled upward, carrying razor-edged wind blades within its column. Shin broke from the impact zone. But the vortex followed — not fast, but persistent, trailing him like a living thing, herding him no matter which way he cut. Both figures moved in perfect synchronization. Same seals. Same timing. No way to tell which was real. Shin stopped running. He stood still and let the wind come. Poof.

White smoke — and where Shin had been, a section of wooden log was ripped apart by the blades, shredded into splinters that sprayed across the courtyard. Behind the smoke, a silhouette flickered — there and not there, its outline shifting like a mirage. Temari's brow creased. She couldn't tell if he was about to launch a jutsu or charge through. Her real body and her clone both snapped the Three-Star Fan open — two purple circles exposed on each. Second Star—" Temari, look out!"

The shout came from Daimaru — raw, panicked. In the same instant, Temari felt something on the back of her neck. Not wind. Not sound. Just cold. She spun. He was behind her. Shin was crouched low, his entire body coiled forward. The katana was back in its scabbard — she didn't know when he'd sheathed it. His left hand gripped the sheath. His right rested on the hilt. Behind her, the hazy silhouette in the smoke dissolved into nothing.

"You wanted to see my blade?" Black hair hung in disarray over his eyes. Through the strands, Temari could see them — those quiet, steady eyes looking straight at her. She stumbled around to face him, hands tearing the fan open as fast as they could move.

"Third St—""Sword Flash—" SHIIING. The draw cut through the air with a sound like tearing metal. Temari's vision collapsed to a single line of cold light.

"— En." Crack. The light faded. A katana hung motionless before Temari's face, its edge a hair's width from the smooth skin of her forehead. Below it, the Three-Star Fan split apart. A clean, straight line down the center — the two halves falling away from each other in slow motion, their weight separating them as gravity took hold. A whisper of wind — the delayed shockwave — curled around the two of them and dissolved. Several strands of pale gold hair drifted down between them. Temari's eyes were wide open.

Her pupils contracted to points, then lost focus entirely. She sat down hard, legs folding beneath her, and the two halves of the Three-Star Fan clattered to the ground beside her.

"The Three-Star Fan—" On the veranda, Nora and Daimaru stood frozen.

"How..."

"That's impossible..."

"That fan was forged by Lord Monzaemon himself..." Daimaru stared at Shin standing over Temari and swallowed audibly. …… The katana slid home into its scabbard with a soft click. Shin carried it under one arm and walked across the ruined courtyard. He bent down, picked up a red hair tie from the ground, and brushed the dust from it. He gathered his loose hair and tied it back. The courtyard was destroyed. The flower beds that had been neat and beautiful were stripped bare, petals and leaves scattered everywhere.

The wooden veranda was scored with deep cuts and missing chunks where wind blades had struck. He walked back to where Temari sat and held out his hand.

"..." Temari didn't look up. She reached for the broken halves of the Three-Star Fan and pulled them into her arms, holding them tight against her chest. Shin let out a breath.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to provoke anyone — not at the start. I just saw someone who wanted to fight, so I thought I'd test where I stand as a shinobi." That was why he'd formed the seal of opposition at the beginning.

"And I wasn't trying to insult Suna. I really am sorry."

"What is this..." Temari's voice came out low and raw.

"The victor's arrogance?"

"..." The truth was, from the moment he'd picked up the katana, this match had already been decided. After gauging her strength, he'd known she wouldn't be a match for him. As a shinobi, he was still green. But with a blade in his hand— Daimaru vaulted off the veranda and rushed to Temari's side, Nora right behind him. They positioned themselves between her and Shin. Daimaru had a kunai in his fist, his eyes locked on Shin with open hostility. Temari rose slowly, the broken fan cradled against her chest.

She raised her head. Her eyes found his — and the depth of fury in them was absolute.

"Shin Takami of the Leaf." Her teeth were clenched so hard the words barely came through.

"You'll pay for this."

"..." She turned and walked away, disappearing down the corridor toward her room. Nora hurried after her. Daimaru shot Shin one last venomous glare and followed. Shin stood alone in the wreckage and watched them go. He looked around at the devastation. The headache was already starting. Is the innkeeper going to blame me for this... Probably... The corner of his mouth twitched. He thought about it for a moment, then turned and headed toward Tsume's room.

On the far side of the veranda, Norikata Gotō stood motionless, staring after Shin's small, retreating figure. His lips moved, but the words were barely a whisper.

"Iron-cutting..."