Komori Hozuki vs Kushimaru

Spoiler:

Kushimaru Kuriarare had almost forgotten it all.

The way the waves crept up the beach before retreating back in a foaming frenzy, the melody of seabirds listing about like lazy kites in the sky overhead, and the briny stench of the breeze; he had nearly forgotten the sea. Though, to be perfectly honest, the swordsman could not quite place the last time he had seen the sea in all its glory—he only knew it as something that had once been important to him long ago. In fact, the more he tried to focus on the past the less clear it became like some fleeting dream. There had been a war, a great terrible war and then nothing.

Nothing, save for the inky blackness of the abyss.

However, he now found himself here, at the edge of the world where the land gave way to the interminable sea. Water lapped lightly against his bare feet and all seemed right with the world. Yes, all seemed right with the world save for the large moon that hung low in the sky. Instead of the soft luminous glow that one might expect from such a celestial body, the heavily cratered entity bathed the landscape in a malevolent red light making what should have been a sea of blue into one of blood.

Perhaps this was heaven?

The maniac of the Mist had expected something different in his afterlife, but he could work with this. Twenty meters behind him the flat sandy beach gave way to a mess of swaying desert grasses, which carpeted the gentle slope of the land as the beach evolved into a string of gentle dunes. To both his left and right the strip of sand seemed to stretch on into infinity. And then, of course, there was the wide-open sea before him.

Yes, this is something he could definitely work with. After all, he had Nuibari with him and together there was nothing the pair could not face, including death itself. The needle-like sword, gripped loosely in his right hand, rested over his armored right shoulder as he gazed out to the sea through his distinctive mask [150 health].

Certain habits stayed with the man. The way he never once revealed his chakra signature, his soundless vitals, and attention to any approaching disturbances. However, all else seemed to be fading away the longer he stood on the beach. Yet still, he remained rooted in place as if the all the answers he wanted were hidden just over the horizon—if he waited a bit longer he’d know his reason for being in such a strange place.

Just a bit longer…

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AP: 1000
Lost Arts of Kiri
Chakra Suppression

The answers weren’t coming.

No matter how long the killer from the Mist gazed towards the horizon he found nothing. Nothing, save for the uneven line of waves rising and falling like some living being. If he truly wanted answers he would soon have to take his search elsewhere. The sea, while beautifully nostalgic, had no answers for him like it once did so many years ago.

But perhaps the owner of the beating heart he heard would have them?

The slosh of the sea and the whine of the wind had a certain ebb and flow to them; back and forth, up and down, this way and that. The sound of shifting sand and a steady heartbeat broke these patterns creating a chorus of noise that alerted Kushimaru to his long-awaited guest. After all, the only thing better than a beating heart was the moment it stopped beating—he would find all the answers he wanted deep in the chest of his prey.

Completing a 180-degree turn to his left just as his guest took the last step to a point 25 meters from him, Kushimaru’s cold gaze surveyed the land. In turning, he spied the telltale sign of footprints in the sand and the trampling of the thick desert grasses. It took no real detective work on the maniac’s part to know that his guest now stood across from him. However, strangely, he found no figure where there should have been one. All the signs pointed to another being standing in the grass at the foot of a gentle dune, yet they were nowhere to be seen.

Odd.

Trusting his years of training and keen senses, the warrior from the Mist fixed his gaze on where he knew his guest to be—25 meters across from him. Perhaps in his youth he would have charged at the invisible man, but age had long since tempered his arrogance and he simply squared off against the invisible presence. He had all the time in the world and the best part of any fight—in his well-informed opinion—was the tension-filled build-up before the cathartic release of violence that was sure to follow.

His grip tightened on Nuibari.

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AP: 1000
Lost Arts of Kiri
Chakra Suppression
Experienced Fighter

The gaze from the figure he knew to be a man burned into his body. Komori made one-sided eye contact with the slits on the mask where the eyes would be, his mere existence being enough to send a chill down his spine. Despite wearing his fair share of masks in his time, the jounin rather hated them. He preferred being able to see the faces of others, read their expressions, and communicate with them. For an expressionless mask to hide the man staring at him made him uneasy; there was no telling what was running through his mind.

Being invisible did not seem to work, a fact that Komori was almost grateful for. He hated having to do this and only used it as a last result, and that much was apparent by his lack of experience with it. The footsteps in the shifting sands. He had thought about this originally, but lacked a better option; had he gone through the water, it could have been much worse.

“I suppose there’s no point in keeping this up any longer, eh?”

Materializing from thin air, the grey suit of Seisoken would appear, its black mask hiding the face of the wielder. Komori would slightly raise his left arm, pointing at the man with his index finger, his thumb extended in the air. “Name’s Komori.” He winked nonchalantly, not that his wink could be seen past the void that hid his face, but this was practically instinctual for the man. “I don’t know how you knew where I was, but one thing’s for certain. You’re no normal citizen with instincts like that. State your business.” He did not want to quite give away that he was investigating disappearances just yet. If this man was not behind them, the jounin did not need that information being spread to any enemy villages. I.e. all of them. Komori noticed the grip tightening on the sword(?). He tried eyeing it with Mugenha, but he could not hear the forges firing or the gears turning. Rather, it was as though he had no idea what that weapon could be. Interesting. He knew it to be a weapon based on how the man wielded it closely, favoring it almost. His guard was kept up as he kept a close eye on the faceless figure across from him.

AP: 1202 + 10 no actions = 1212
Chakra Suppression

The floodgates that had initially held back the killer's vile chakra broke.

"My name is Kushimaru Kuriarare," the maniac hissed, mockingly returning the gesture of thumb and forefinger in Komori's direction with his free hand. "And my business is my own, child."

With nothing more to be said, the shinobi of the Mist dropped the gesture and allowed his free hand to settle to his side. In better times the mere mention of Kushimaru's name would send people running for the hills and he now wondered whether it still held true. He did love it when his prey tried to run, it was such fun. Then again, perhaps this boy thought himself a martyr and would stand against the once great shinobi with a facade of bravery? Both scenarios made the cold-blooded killer's blood run hot with anticipation.

His sword hand began to itch.

How much longer?

How much longer?

How much longer?

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Starting AP: 1000
-30 Ephemeral
Ending AP: 970
Lost Arts of Kiri

Showing off are we?

Not wasting a moment, Komori dropped his own chakra suppression, his chakra flaring up in front of the man with the kiri symbol on his mask. The normally carefree look on Komori’s face vanished, even if his features were still hidden from view from his mask.

…

The symbol of Kirigakure. This thought came to the man’s head in a moment’s notice. Before the kiri nin could get a word in edgewise, Komori cut him off before the man could point or introduce himself, beginning to walk forward. After all, no self respecting legend would try to talk over someone. “The last time I dealt with Kiri scum in this country, I lost my mother.” The jounin was referencing a time since before the academy, he and his family living outside of the village, even prior to Mortarian’s takeover. His father being lost at war, the three lived in a rather secluded cabin, yet tales of the family’s strange eyes, Komori excluded, seemed to have drawn unwanted attention. All that time ago, a man brandishing a scratched Kiri headband had killed his mother and gouged out her eyes either to sell or as a personal trophy.

A deep aqua colored chakra enveloped his body, the head of a lion loosely taking shape in its form as he gained 200 artificial stats. The chakra expanded outwards 10m outwards as Komori himself reached 18m away from the man. The hand he had been pointing fired off a 1in droplet of water traveling at a speed of 92 and holding a power of 117 aiming for the center of the man's chest. “I’m going to break that mask open and I swear on my mother’s grave that if you have her eyes I will end you.” He did not care for names, instead, jumping to conclusions over a childhood trauma he had once thought to have recovered from. He was a jounin of Kumogakure now, he was able to protect others now, in a way that he was not able to protect his mother.

Skills Used: Display of Power
1212 AP - 40 Water Gun = 1172

Komori the martyr.

It had a nice ring to it; Kushimaru liked it more than he could say. Unfortunately, the boy would have to die to live up to this new title. Shame that he would never know the name of his killer too. Were shinobi always so rash and impolite?

Oh well.

Taking a deep breath, Kushimaru felt the excitement mounting in his veins as his prey took its first step closer to him. Each step that followed built and built the tingling feeling in his extremities until, at last, it climaxed in a warm rush of adrenaline when water erupted from the boy's finger. Upon the appearance of the bullet and moving with all the speed his newly enhanced body could muster (180), the maniac swung Nuibari off his shoulder in a clean rightward arc out to meet the oncoming bullet.

With right arm fully extended, Kushimaru met the bullet with the tip of Nuibari just as Komori finished saying the word 'grave'. The water deflected harmlessly in every direction upon impact, though not a single drop fell on the swordsman or obscured vision of his prey in the slightest.

That said, it did appear as if a cloak of shadowy water welled up around Kushimaru just as the bullet cleaved itself apart on Nuibari. Extending a meter off the man, a dark purple aura blazed forth from him, which far exceeded the power of Komori's feeble display and no doubt sent him into mental anguish as he gazed upon it and his imminent demise (900 'stats' vs 525 'stats'; 525/900 < 0.75).

"You will join your mother soon," the maniac hissed once the boy had finished speaking.

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Starting AP: 970
+30 from timelined away Ephemeral use
-40 from The Body is a Weapon use
Display of Power
Ending AP: 960


New Stats:

Health:50
Chakra:100
Stamina:50 + 500 ap
Speed:130 + 50 = 180
Strength:70 + 50 = 120

Now it was Kushimaru's turn.

Komori would never have a chance to rebut his opponent's promise to reunite him with his mother. Just as the young man opened his mouth to speak and as paralyzing fear still coursed through his veins, Kushimaru casually drew back his sword not more than an inch. The moment it started to move a tunnel of powerful wind—with a diameter of five meters and centered on Komori—coalised around his opponent at a speed of 242. It then began to pull the unprepared Komori towards his imminent death with a strength of 167. If all went according to plan, the Kumogakure shinobi would find himself hurtling uncontrollably towards the maniac of Mist and his hungry sewing needle. Indeed, if Komori did not react he would find himself skewered through the heart by Nuibari and in the cold embrace of death.

Perhaps Komori the shish kebab was a more appropriate title?

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AP: 960-20 The Body is a Weapon Upkeep-100 Mist-Style: Cloud Piercing = 840 AP

Stats of wind tunnel:
Speed: 242  [180 + 62 = 242]
Strength: 167 [120 + 47 = 167]
Five meter diameter centered on Komori
Fifty meter length extending from Kushimaru

Mist-Style: Cloud Piercing Calculations:
Speed Boost: 125 with scaling divided by 2 = 62.5 --> 62
Strength Boost: 95 with scaling divided by 2 = 47.5 --> 47