Chapter 30: The Edge of Insight
"Kakashi, let's spar. I've been practicing my kenjutsu lately," Takumi suggested once they were a few paces from the house, not forgetting his original purpose for the visit.
Encountering Orochimaru and Tsunade had been a fortunate accident, but his primary goal was to test himself against Kakashi and see if the clash would yield a new entry. The White Fang's legendary prowess with the short blade was renowned across the shinobi world; even Minato Namikaze had stated the Sannin held him in high regard. The swordsmanship Kakashi had been taught, whether a Hatake family secret or his father's own creation, was undoubtedly formidable.
"Alright," Kakashi agreed after a moment's hesitation. His mind was a tangled mess of frustration and confusion. The intense focus of a spar was exactly what he needed to silence the noise.
He stopped at a side entrance, saying he needed to retrieve a practice blade.
"I have one," Takumi said, pulling the second-hand kodachi from the sheath on his back.
"Shouldn't we use wooden ones?"
"No need," Takumi shook his head. The balance and heft of a wooden practice sword were entirely different from steel. Adapting between the two wasted time. It was better to train with the real thing from the start. He trusted Kakashi's control not to seriously injure him, and with his Sharingan and enhanced reflexes, he was confident he could avoid causing harm as well.
"Suit yourself." Seeing his insistence, Kakashi slipped in through a window and emerged moments later with a short sword of his own. Takumi glanced at it; the blade was a pristine, almost pearlescent white, smooth and gleaming with a superior metallic luster. It was a weapon far beyond his own meager budget. Even the kodachi he held was a used, smaller model; every extra inch of quality steel cost more ryo than he could justify spending.
"Let's begin," Kakashi said, leading them to a clear, open area of the courtyard.
"Ready," Takumi nodded.
The moment the word left his lips, Kakashi was already moving, a blur of motion as his blade cut through the air with a sharp swish.
Takumi's eyes narrowed, his own sword rising to meet the attack.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of steel meeting steel echoed sharply in the quiet courtyard. Sparks flickered to life at the point of impact, only to be extinguished as the blades whirled apart. Takumi's brow furrowed in concentration. Kakashi's swordsmanship was polished and efficient, a stark contrast to his own rougher, more instinctual style. Kakashi advanced with precise, economical movements, leaving few openings and applying relentless pressure.
"Even if I don't get an entry, this is still valuable for identifying my weaknesses," Takumi thought, gritting his teeth.
His raw physical strength and the Yotsuki clan's gift for endurance allowed him to keep pace, even if his technique was wasteful by comparison. He could hold his own, but just barely.
Inside the House
"That guy didn't even say hello to me..." Shizune muttered under her breath, watching Takumi leave. The last time they'd met, her curious staring had been caught by him, an memory that had stuck with her.
"He's changing so fast," she whispered to herself. In just a few weeks, Takumi seemed taller. The kodachi on his back partially obscured the Uchiha fan crest on his jacket, making him look more and more like the dark-skinned Kumo-nin of her imagination, save for his fair complexion and refined features.
"Are you paying attention?" Tsunade's voice snapped her back to the present.
"My apologies, Lady Tsunade."
"You should go outside as well. We can handle the rest from here," Tsunade said, her expression turning grave. The less Shizune knew about the details of this situation, the safer she would be. For a kunoichi, sometimes ignorance was the best protection.
"Yes, Lady Tsunade." Shizune hurriedly finished stowing the sealed scrolls in her bag and bowed her way out.
"Heh heh... so youthful," Orochimaru commented, his mouth opening to an unnatural width. He unceremoniously produced a mucus-covered scroll from his throat.
"Orochimaru, must you be so revoltingly serpentine?" Tsunade's tone was thick with disgust.
"Enough," she said, turning back to Sakumo. "Let's get down to business."
Outside the Courtyard
Shizune stepped out, intending to take a short walk when the distinct, rhythmic clang of clashing blades caught her ear.
"What are Takumi and Kakashi doing?" She peered through the slats in the wooden fence and saw the two boys locked in combat not far away.
"Kakashi's father is the legendary White Fang... and Takumi dares to challenge him in kenjutsu?" she wondered, surprised. They were in the same class, though Shizune, always at Tsunade's side, kept a low profile. She remembered Takumi had only sparred once publicly, soundly defeating the class's dead-last, Obito.
Intrigued, she moved closer to watch.
A Few Minutes Later
A fine sheen of sweat coated Takumi's forehead. His endurance was good, but the iron kodachi in his hand was heavy, and the relentless pace was taking its toll. A wooden sword wouldn't have been nearly as draining.
"Kakashi, your skill is impressive. It seems I'll have to get serious," Takumi said.
He closed his eyes. When they opened again, his left iris had shifted to a vibrant, bloody crimson. A single black tomoe spun lazily within it.
The world seemed to slow down. Kakashi's fluid movements became perceptible, each motion leaving a faint afterimage, like a swift bird struggling through thick syrup.
The moment the Sharingan activated, Kakashi's advance faltered for a split second. "The Sharingan," he thought. There were other Uchiha in the Academy, but Takumi was the only one who had awakened it. Dealing with a Sharingan user was a first for him. He tightened his grip on the hilt, deciding to rely on pure, overwhelming speed.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Their blades met in a renewed flurry of strikes. Kakashi's visible eye widened marginally, his expression shifting from focus to intense seriousness.
After several more exchanges, Takumi began to shift from pure defense to measured offense. It was as if he could now anticipate every one of Kakashi's strikes. The rhythm of the fight, once dictated solely by Kakashi, was being forcibly rewritten.
Screech!
Takumi exploited a microscopic opening in Kakashi's guard, his blade sliding against Kakashi's with a high-pitched metallic shriek.
Kakashi took a quick step back, his grip on his sword adjusting. The casual air was gone, replaced by a sharp, analytical focus. "I see... So the Sharingan doesn't just see through movements. It elevates the user's own reactions to another level entirely..."
"Yes," Takumi confirmed, his single tomoe eye unwavering. "This is the power of the Sharingan." With its insight, perception itself was heightened.
(End of Chapter)
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