The killing blow that she expected never came. Miwa had braced for the searing annihilation of Killer B's strike. The heat, the light, the finality – it was a certainty etched onto her failing consciousness. But instead of oblivion, there was…
"Claaaang!"
A sound so profound it vibrated in her marrow, shaking the ground beneath her, a metallic scream that drowned out even the furious hiss of B's chakra.
'What…?'
The thought was a fragile wisp in the roaring silence. Confusion warred with the leaden weight of exhaustion. Slowly, painfully, she forced her eyelids apart. Dust stung her eyes. Blurred shapes swam: the dark, pitted iron of a gargantuan wall mere yards away. And then, higher, much higher… a silhouette against the bruised canvas. A vast, impossible eagle, wings outstretched like storm clouds. And upon its back, standing tall, a shock of unmistakable crimson hair whipping in the high-altitude wind.
'Is that… Renjiro?'
It couldn't be. He was supposed to be… where? Safe? Not here, not now, not standing defiantly above the carnage like some mythic guardian. The image wavered, the crimson blur swimming in her vision. The effort of holding onto the thought, the sight, was too much. The grey numbness surged back, a comforting, drowning tide.
'Renjiro…' The name was her last conscious thought before darkness finally claimed her, her body going utterly limp against the unforgiving ground.
Nearby, amidst the cluster of Konoha shinobi huddled within the newly formed ring of Rashomon gates, Obito nearly shot into the air.
"Whoa! Is that Big Brother Renjiro?!" His voice, loud with incredulous joy, shattered the stunned silence. He pointed a grimy, trembling finger skyward, his single visible eye wide as a saucer.
"Up there! On the giant bird! Look!"
Rin followed his gesture, squinting. "Big Brother? Obito, who is that? How do you know him?"
Kakashi, already on his feet, one hand resting on the hilt of his tantō, his visible eye narrowed in sharp assessment, didn't look up immediately.
"Uzumaki Renjiro," he stated flatly, his voice cutting through Obito's excitement.
"Captain of the First Division."
Rin gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Uzumaki? Like Lady Kushina? He looks so young!" The incongruity of the youthful figure radiating calm authority high above the battlefield was jarring.
Arata, leaning heavily on his knees nearby, finally managed to push himself fully upright. He watched the crimson-haired figure on the eagle, a slow, weary, yet genuine smile spreading across his grizzled face. Dust caked the lines around his eyes, but they held a spark of familiar exasperation mixed with profound relief.
'He really does love an entrance,' Arata thought, shaking his head slightly. 'Couldn't just walk, could you? Had to descend from the damn sky on a giant beast. Show-off.'
The ripple of recognition and realization spread through the beleaguered Konoha ranks like a physical wave. Whispers became murmurs, then shouts of disbelief and burgeoning hope.
"Uzumaki!"
"Renjiro-sama!"
"He came!"
Faces etched with exhaustion and the shadow of imminent death lifted. Shoulders that had slumped under the weight of the shattered barrier and the Jinchuriki's might straightened. Weapons were gripped tighter, not in desperation, but in renewed determination. The sight of their captain, seemingly untouched by the chaos below, surveying the battlefield from his impossible vantage point, ignited a fragile but potent flame of defiance.
He was here. And if he was here, maybe, just maybe, they weren't doomed after all. The oppressive dread lifted fractionally, replaced by a collective intake of breath, a shared focus on the crimson speck against the darkening sky.
A few hundred yards back, concealed by a ridge overlooking the valley where the Rashomon gates now stood like grim sentinels, Nara Shiba skidded to a halt. Breath ragged, chakra reserves low, he expected to find a slaughterhouse, Konoha forces overrun, the Kumo tide flooding through the breach.
Instead, he saw defiance. He saw iron. The colossal Rashomon gates formed a jagged, imposing fortress around a significant portion of Konoha's remaining force.
Relief, sharp and dizzying, washed over him, momentarily loosening the vice grip of anxiety around his heart. Their numbers, while undoubtedly depleted, were still holding, sheltered.
'Good. Stronger position than I feared.' His analytical mind immediately began assessing the tactical implications of the iron bulwark.
Then his gaze lifted, drawn inevitably upwards. The giant eagle was impossible to miss. And the figure standing upon it… Shiba's lips twitched, then curved into a genuine, if weary, chuckle that escaped him in a short burst.
'Renjiro. Of course, it's you. And of course, you'd arrive on something that casts a shadow large enough to hide a battalion. Subtlety was never your strong suit, But maybe that is what we need to rescue this operation.' Seeing the familiar, flamboyant presence injected a dose of grim optimism into his own fatigue.
=====
Further back, Ayy's earlier volcanic rage had momentarily frozen into icy disbelief. He'd watched Killer Bee systematically shatter Konoha's defences, and felt the surge of triumph as the final barrier layer vanished, ready to unleash his entire force like a hammer blow. Then the earth had vomited iron. Not one gate, but a forest of them, slamming upwards in a terrifying display of power, shielding the vulnerable enemy at the critical moment.
"WHAT IS THIS?!"
Ayy's roar echoed making nearby shinobi flinch. His eyes, burning with fury, scanned the newly erected iron fortress.
"Who?! Who among them possesses the chakra reserves to summon numerous Rashomon gates after sustaining that barrier?! Who dares?!"
He focused, his senses sharpening, gaze zeroing in on the figure high above the battlefield, standing calmly on the back of the impossible eagle.
The distance was vast, but the crimson hair was a beacon. Recognition slammed into Ayy like a physical blow. His face, already dark with anger, turned thunderous.
"UZUMAKI RENJIRO!" The name was spat like venom.
A sudden, unwelcome flashback seared his mind: a skirmish sometime prior. A Konoha ANBU unit infiltrated them. A similar flying summon.
Now he knew. The humiliation and the frustration of that day surged back, merging with the current obstruction, and fueling an inferno of rage.
"ENOUGH!" Ayy bellowed, turning to the massed ranks of Kumo shinobi, their initial charge halted by the sudden appearance of the gates and the giant eagle. "These gates are iron! They are not chakra! They are WEAKER than the barrier they replaced!" He pointed his massive arm, finger like a spear aimed at the Rashomon fortress.
"One man! One Uzumaki stands between us and victory! He summoned walls, but walls can be broken! He has nothing left! CHARGE! BREAK THROUGH! CRUSH THEM!"
His words were a lightning bolt to the forces. The shock of the Rashomon faded, replaced by the familiar, energizing roar of their commander. A collective growl rose from thousands of throats. Weapons were raised, battle cries ripped through the air. The ground began to tremble not from impacts, but from the massed surge of shinobi pouring down the slopes like an avalanche of steel and fury, converging on the dark iron walls. The air crackled with renewed bloodlust.
High above, the wind whipped Renjiro's crimson hair. His Sharingan scanned the battlefield with preternatural clarity. He saw Miwa collapse, saw the exhausted but defiant ranks huddled within the Rashomon ring, saw Obito jumping and pointing, saw Kakashi's assessing gaze, saw Arata's weary smile. He saw Shiba arriving on the ridge. And he saw the dark tide of Kumo, like molten rock flowing down the hillsides, spearheaded by Ayy's towering, furious form, converging on his summoned fortress. The roar of their charge was a physical pressure even at this height.
'Right on schedule,' Renjiro thought, his expression calm, almost detached.
Five sharp POOF of smoke erupted around him on Tenjin's broad back. Five identical Renjiros materialized, clad in the same gear Sharingan eyes active and focused. Without a word, they exchanged a glance with the original, then leapt off Tenjin's back in perfect unison, plummeting towards the ground inside the ring of Rashomon gates like crimson comets. They landed amidst the Konoha forces with barely a whisper, immediately moving with purpose, hands already flashing through seals.
Renjiro watched them go for a split second, his focus shifting entirely to the approaching storm of Kumo shinobi. He reached down, giving the giant eagle's neck feathers a firm, affectionate tug. "Alright, Tenjin. Time to pay our respects to the neighbours. Let's go say hello."
The massive eagle banked sharply carrying Renjiro swiftly and directly towards the forefront of the Kumo advance. As they flew, a deep, resonant hum began to build from within the ring of Rashomon gates behind them. A moment later, a towering wall of energy erupted – not the familiar honey-gold of the previous barrier, but a deep, ominous, swirling blood-red. It sealed the top of the Rashomon fortress, a dome of crimson light that pulsed with contained power, casting an eerie, hellish glow over the Konoha shinobi within. The shadow clones had activated the secondary containment barrier – the Fūton: Kekkai - Akai Ōkami (Sealing Barrier: Crimson Maw).
Renjiro didn't look back. His Sharingan remained locked on the sea of enemies rushing towards him, their individual faces blurred by speed and distance, but their collective intent – annihilation – crystal clear. Ayy's furious bellow was audible even over the wind and the roar. Renjiro took a slow, deliberate breath, centring himself.
The air around his right hand began to distort, shimmering with intense heat. Visible currents of raw, crimson chakra, thick as blood and laced with streaks of violent white, spiralled violently from his palm and fingertips. Jagged, wind-like extensions like bloody blades screamed from its edges, tearing at the very air with a high-pitched, grating sound that set teeth on edge. The Rasenshuriken pulsed in his hand, radiating palpable waves of destructive force that caused the air around Tenjin to visibly ripple.
Renjiro's lips moved, the words a whisper lost to the wind, meant only for himself and the raging storm of chakra he held:
"Fūton: Rasenshuriken."
With a fluid, almost casual motion, he flung the crimson rectangle downwards. It left his hand not like a thrown weapon, but like a malevolent comet shedding bloody light.
=====
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