Chapter 21: Shattered Reflection
Zabuza's command snapped through the frigid air like a whip crack. Bai flinched, the gentleness in their mirrored eyes hardening into cold, lethal resolve. The barrage of Ice Senbon intensified, a blizzard of frozen needles aimed with surgical precision at Sasuke's heart, throat, and eyes. This was no longer an attempt to subdue; it was an execution.
Sasuke crouched, arms raised in a futile guard. Her new Sharingan saw the deadly paths, but her battered body could not follow. She braced for the impact.
A roar of wind, not ice. A blur of motion.
THWIP-THWIP-THWIP-CRACK!
The sound was not of needles hitting flesh, but of frozen projectiles shattering against a furious, roaring vortex of blue chakra. Naruto stood planted before her, one arm outstretched, the newly-perfected one-handed Rasengan spinning violently in his palm, a miniature storm that pulverized the incoming attack into glittering dust. His other hand was raised, fingers splayed, a barely-visible distortion of sharpened air—the Wind Cutter, not yet released, held as a vibrating shield.
He didn't glance back. "Took you long enough to get in trouble," he said, his voice a low growl over the Rasengan's hum. "Don't die on me yet. We've got a dream to chase."
Sasuke stared at his back, shock momentarily eclipsing her pain. He… blocked it all.
On the sidelines, Sakura cried out in relief. "Naruto! You're here!"
The ice dome around them seemed less absolute now.
Naruto's eyes locked on a specific junction in the glittering lattice of Haku's mirror prison. His hands flashed through the Wind Cutter's seals—Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey—ending with his palm slashing forward.
"Wind Release: Wind Cutter!"
There was no grand flourish. A thin, almost invisible line of distorted air shot from his hand, so fast it was a mere flicker. It struck the nexus of two ice mirrors with a sound like a giant pane of glass cracking.
CRACK-SHATTER!
A jagged fissure ripped through the dome, creating a man-sized gap. Freedom.
Sasuke didn't need to be told twice. Gritting her teeth against the agony of her wounds, she lunged for the opening. But her strength gave out mid-leap; her legs buckled, and she pitched forward, gravity claiming her exhausted body.
Naruto was there. He caught her under the arms before she hit the icy floor, hauling her through the breach and out into the open air of the bridge. He set her down gently against an intact railing.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice steady.
Sasuke, humiliated by her weakness and saved by the boy she'd just called a coward, felt her face heat. She shoved his supportive hand away, her pride a brittle shield. "Who asked for your help?! Don't act like some hero!" Her eyes, however, flickered to the shattered mirror. He broke what I couldn't.
Naruto just shrugged, turning his attention to Haku, who now stood silently outside the ruined dome, the porcelain mask giving nothing away.
"I'm your opponent now," Naruto stated, stepping forward, placing himself squarely between Haku and the wounded Sasuke.
Haku offered no reply, only a poised, waiting stillness.
Naruto knew the disparity. Haku's speed, their Ice Release, their experience—all eclipsed his own. A direct fight was suicide unless he used his trump cards, and something about the memory of the gentle person in the morning mist stayed his hand. He couldn't bring himself to aim the Rasengan or the Wind Cutter with lethal intent. Not yet.
With a sigh that was almost apologetic, he feinted. A handful of shuriken flew from his hands in a spread, a distraction. As Haku fluidly batted them aside with senbon, Naruto closed the distance, kunai flashing in a series of sharp, probing strikes aimed not at vitals, but at the edges of Haku's robe, the mask's strap.
Haku moved with ethereal grace, parrying with one hand while the other began forming a single-handed seal against their chest—a display of staggering chakra control.
"Ice Release: Thousand Flying Water Needles!"
The air around Haku crystallized. Dozens of needle-sharp icicles materialized, hovering, each tip aimed at Naruto from point-blank range.
"Your strength is still insufficient," Haku's muffled voice held a hint of that morning's gentleness, now edged with duty.
Naruto tried to disengage, to leap back. Haku's free hand shot out, fingers closing like a vice around his wrist, arresting his retreat.
The icicles shot forward.
THWIP-THWIP-THWIP—!
Naruto's body jerked as a dozen needles found their mark, punching through his jacket and into his torso. He grunted, his eyes going wide with shock, then vacant. His body went limp, slumping to the bridge floor with a heavy thud.
"NARUTO!" Sasuke's scream was raw, torn from a place of fury and a strange, new terror. In that moment of utter despair, something deep within her ruptured. A heat, then a cold clarity exploded behind her eyes. The world sharpened, slowed. The single tomoe in her Sharingan spun, fractured, and became two. Power, raw and unfamiliar, surged through her veins.
She was on her feet, pain forgotten. Rage, pure and undiluted, focused into her hands as they flew through seals.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
The sphere of flame she unleashed was not the practiced jutsu from the forest. It was larger, hotter, a comet of her fury that roared across the bridge, forcing Haku to abandon Naruto's 'body' and flash-step away in a swirl of mist. The fireball impacted where Haku had stood, washing over the area in a wave of searing heat.
"Did… did I win?" Sasuke panted, the sudden drain of the enhanced jutsu and her awakening making her lightheaded. She stumbled to Naruto's side, dropping to her knees, her two-tomoe Sharingan frantically scanning his still form. "Naruto! Naruto, answer me!"
Then, Haku's calm voice came from behind her, untouched. "It is not over. That level of attack is not enough."
Sasuke whirled, but her body finally betrayed her. The adrenaline crash was total. She collapsed next to Naruto, utterly spent.
Haku approached, senbon raised for a final, merciful strike. As the needle descended towards Sasuke's exposed neck, a hand on the ground—one of the supposedly 'dead' Naruto's—twitched.
The kunai that had fallen from his grip poofed into a small cloud of smoke. In its place was another Naruto, curled and hidden. In the blink of an eye, this Naruto uncoiled. His arm shot up, a real kunai flashing to press against the pale skin of Haku's throat.
"Don't move," Naruto's voice was cold, final. "You lose."
Both Haku and Sasuke stared, stunned.
The 'corpse' on the ground dissolved into white smoke—a Shadow Clone, taking the fatal hit meant to sell the deception. The real Naruto had substituted with his own weapon the moment before Haku's grab, using the smoke of the shuriken and his own charge as cover.
"Naruto, you…!" Sasuke breathed, her expression a maelstrom of anger, relief, and dawning, grudging respect. A tactic. A damn good one.
"Heh. Seems your Sharingan woke up. Congratulations," Naruto said, not taking his eyes off Haku. He addressed the masked ninja, his tone softening a fraction. "You weren't fighting with everything you had."
Haku closed their eyes behind the mask, a posture of acceptance. "I underestimated you. Finish it."
Across the bridge, Kakashi and Zabuza's duel had reached a fever pitch. As Kakashi gathered chakra for a decisive Lightning Cutter, Naruto's voice rang out, clear and commanding.
"Stop, Zabuza! It's over! She's beaten!"
Zabuza's head snapped around. Seeing Haku, their mask gone now, held at knifepoint by the blond brat, a complex storm of emotions crossed his face—shock, frustration, and a flicker of something like shame. "Haku… lost? Useless…!"
Haku's face, now visible, was serene but filled with sorrow. "Forgive me, Zabuza-sama. I have failed you." Then, with a sudden, shocking burst of strength, they grabbed the hand holding the kunai and pulled it sharply towards their own throat.
"NO!" Naruto yelled, twisting his wrist with all his might. The blade turned, slicing a shallow, bleeding line across Haku's collarbone instead of the artery. The force of Haku's pull and Naruto's counter-momentum sent them both tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
Naruto ended up on his back, Haku landing atop him, straddling his waist. The fallen mask lay nearby. They were face to face, inches apart. Haku's dark eyes, wide with shock and confusion, stared down into Naruto's determined blue ones. A single drop of blood welled from the cut on their pale neck and fell, splashing against the cold concrete of the bridge between them. The battle hung on a razor's edge, its outcome now tied to a choice made not in combat, but in the silent space between two souls who had, briefly, seen something familiar in each other's loneliness.