At this moment, Arui finally realized what was happening—the Great Fireball Technique from earlier hadn't been a misfire by Akira, but a deliberate maneuver. It wasn't an error; it was a calculated move to assist his teammates.
The truth struck Arui like a slap to the face. Surprise surged through him first. How could someone engaged in intense one-on-one combat still have the awareness to monitor his allies' situations? But that surprise quickly boiled into indignation. Akira had dared to split his focus while fighting him. Him—an elite Jonin of the Hidden Cloud. That was arrogance. That was insult.
His cheeks flushed with rage, his teeth clenched. Never in his career had he been treated with such disregard. Even if the Raikage himself were to face him, he would not be so insolent as to fight distracted. Akira was treating him like an afterthought.
With a furious roar, Arui surged forward, lightning exploding around his body in a blinding display of the Hidden Cloud's infamous Lightning Release Chakra Mode. The signature technique of the Raikage clan.
Akira's eyes narrowed, the crimson of his Sharingan glowing like embers in the dusk. He hadn't expected Arui to know that technique—only the Raikage and a select few ever used it. Intrigued, Akira allowed a smile to tug at his lips.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Crackling lightning erupted from Akira's body, his own form encased in a storm of blue-white energy. Speed Force. His unique evolution of chakra control met Arui's traditional Lightning Release Chakra Mode head-on. Their auras clashed like two thunderclouds colliding in the sky, setting the air between them ablaze with static.
Akira's Sharingan spun rapidly, tracking every shift in Arui's form. Lightning pulsed through the Cloud ninja's limbs, enhancing speed and reflexes. From a technical standpoint, it mirrored Akira's own method: chakra saturating the nervous system, amplifying physical performance to superhuman levels.
The first clash of fists came like a thunderclap. Akira staggered back two steps, surprised. His arm throbbed from the impact. His body should have been stronger than Arui's. Why had he lost ground?
A second, closer look revealed the answer: Arui's chakra wasn't just enhancing his speed. It was forming a hardened shell over his body—defensive armor, like a natural extension of Sasuke's Chidori Stream. That was the missing element.
Akira didn't hesitate. With a sharp breath, he adjusted the chakra flowing over his skin, thickening it, refining it. He infused it with the same piercing intensity as Chidori, layering the Speed Force with protective conductivity. The result: a new form of Lightning Release Chakra Armor, forged through observation and will.
The electricity around him flared, denser and sharper than Arui's.
Their fists collided again.
This time, Arui recoiled, his face twisted in shock as pain surged through his arm. The tide had turned. Akira had replicated and improved upon his technique in the span of moments.
Akira grinned, the lightning around him howling like a storm.
"Let's end this."
"Strength of a Hundred Seal: Punch."
With chakra pulsing through his entire being, Akira launched himself forward. Arui met the attack, forcing his already-aching limbs to retaliate. The two collided in a thunderous explosion, but this time, Arui was hurled backward like a broken puppet. Bones shattered, blood spilled. His right arm hung limp, useless.
Akira landed gracefully, adjusting his stance as the energy dissipated.
Arui lay on the ground, coughing, struggling to rise. His mind raced with panic. They were losing. Another scream pierced the air—one of his comrades had just been slain by the older Leaf ninja, Kosuke. Their formation was crumbling.
The mission had been exposed. Their presence in the Land of Rice Fields had been revealed. Arui had sent word days ago, alerting the Hidden Cloud of the strategic advantage, but now—everything had changed. Konoha would prepare for war.
Akira approached casually.
"Uncle Kosuke is finished? Then it's time I wrapped things up here."
A single slash of his Chakra Scalpel severed Arui's remaining limbs. Then, with a flick of his fingers and the hypnotic glow of his Sharingan, he cast a Genjutsu that froze Arui's mind in submission.
Across the battlefield, Damui—one of Arui's remaining teammates—howled in horror.
"Arui-senpai! Damn it!"
But Kimura, the samurai fueled by vengeance and a soldier pill, didn't give him time to mourn. His blade cut through the air in a deadly dance, forcing Damui on the defensive.
"Why won't this guy slow down?" Damui cursed. His mind reeled. This wasn't how samurai were supposed to fight. Kimura's speed rivaled that of a Jonin, his strikes relentless.
Desperate, Damui tried to disengage, to gather chakra and launch a jutsu. But just as he began weaving hand signs, a wave of heat blasted past him—a Great Fireball from Akira—interrupting the technique.
He flinched. A fatal mistake.
Kimura seized the chance, narrowing the gap between them.
Suddenly, a whisper sounded behind Damui:
"Ninpou: Body Flicker Technique."
Before he could react, Akira's hand touched his back. Damui's muscles locked. Nerve pathways scrambled. His own hand twitched involuntarily, rising against his will. Terror gripped him.
Kimura saw the opening. Without hesitation, he drove his blade forward, piercing Damui clean through.
Damui's eyes widened. Fear, regret, confusion—all flickered within them. His final thought was a bitter one: he had died too young.
Had Akira heard his thoughts, he might have offered a wry smile.
"At least the readers know your name," he might have said. "Your two teammates weren't even given that much."
Kosuke had already dispatched his opponent. Akira glanced around the battlefield.
Only one enemy remained—the one fighting Kurenai and Hayate.
Reaching into his pouch, Akira activated the Flying Thunder God Kunai he had given his allies before the battle.
In a blink, he vanished.
He reappeared behind the final Cloud ninja.
"Rasengan."
The swirling sphere of chakra drove into the enemy's back, ending the battle.
Silence fell over the field. The once-confident Cloud ambush unit had been utterly dismantled. Five against dozens.
And victory was Konoha's.
"Thank you, Lord Akira."
Kimura bowed deeply, his voice trembling not from fear, but from the emotional weight lifting off his chest. For days, his heart had been burdened by grief and helpless rage, watching his comrades cut down one by one by the Cloud ninja. Now, as he stood amidst the corpses of the enemy, the last of them vanquished, that pain eased, if only slightly.
The final blow had been struck, vengeance taken—not just for him, but for all those who had fallen.
He turned to the man who made it all possible. Akira. The name alone now carried a weight of salvation. With his unparalleled strength and calm determination, Akira had led them to this overwhelming victory.
Surrounding the only surviving Cloud ninja, Arui, were Akira and his team: Might Guy, Anko, and Kosuke. Arui knelt on the ground, bloodied and barely conscious, immobilized not by force, but by Akira's powerful genjutsu.
This wasn't a common genjutsu. The technique Akira employed was a rare subconscious hypnosis, a high-level mental jutsu that suppressed the part of the brain responsible for deceit. It was subtle, sophisticated—a technique used primarily by the ANBU for extracting information without torture. But it only worked when the target's will was already weakened.
Arui was perfect prey: gravely wounded, disoriented, and no match for the Sharingan-enhanced genjutsu Akira unleashed. With his tomoe spinning slowly, Akira's eyes gleamed, and Arui's resistance crumbled.
In a trance-like voice, Arui revealed everything.
They listened intently as the truth spilled out. Arui described their mission, the secret orders from Cloud Village, and the strategy that had brought their team deep into the Land of Rice Fields.
The war had been instigated by the Land of Lightning. But geography created a complication: between them and their target, the Land of Fire, were two nations—the Land of the Moon and the Land of Hot Water.
The Moon lacked a ninja village, making it a silent highway for Lightning's forces. But the Land of Hot Water had Yugakure, a modest yet capable military power. Its resistance had slowed the Lightning assault, and now the war risked turning the Land of Hot Water into a battlefield.
Neither Konoha nor the Lightning wanted to fight on their own soil. Inevitably, their conflict had been forced into neutral territories, turning them into war-torn hellscapes.
The Land of Rice Fields, without a ninja village of its own, was the next target. Cloud Village's upper echelon had decided to bypass Yugakure altogether by invading from the north through the Land of Rice Fields. To test Konoha's awareness, they sent Arui's team disguised as bandits. Their goal? Pillage and observe.
If only local samurai responded, it meant Konoha was unaware. If Konoha ninjas appeared, it would prove the Leaf had already laid defenses.
Initially, things went as planned. After attacking a small village, only samurai arrived to retaliate. No sign of Konoha.
It should have been a perfect mission. But they underestimated the samurai.
They were no ordinary warriors. Fierce, disciplined, and coordinated. The Cloud ninja were forced to use chakra techniques to survive. But one man escaped their clutches—and that changed everything.
If the attackers had remained unknown, the mission would be marked a success. But now, their identities as Cloud ninja risked exposure. In panic, Arui dispatched a messenger back to Cloud Village with the news while he and the rest stayed to ambush any Konoha reinforcements.
But what they hadn't anticipated... was Akira.
He annihilated them effortlessly, their last gamble shattered. All that remained was a failed mission and their blood-soaked bodies.
Kimura clenched his fists as Arui's confession ended. He looked toward Akira with urgency burning in his eyes.
"Lord Akira, if the Land of Lightning pushes the war into the Land of Rice Fields... what should we do? The Cloud ninjas may already be moving. Even if we tell Konoha now, will they have time to respond?"
Akira's voice was calm, resolute.
"Don't panic. The Land of Lightning hasn't made their move yet. We're still one step ahead. We'll return to your capital immediately. Warn your daimyo. Then, I will go to Konoha and report to the Hokage. They will act swiftly. We may still stop this."
Akira knew he was lying. Not out of cruelty, but necessity. Comfort was needed now more than truth. The Cloud troops were likely already advancing. Mobilizing Konoha's forces, even with their proximity, would take precious time. Too much time.
Still, hope was a tool, and Akira wielded it just as expertly as his jutsu.
"Everyone, place your hands on me," Akira instructed.
With a shimmer of chakra, space twisted. In a flash, they vanished.
They reappeared at the gates of the Land of Rice Fields' capital. Kimura stumbled, staring wide-eyed at the looming daimyo's mansion.
He had traveled this path many times before—on horseback, on foot. Days of journeying. Yet now, in a blink, they were here. The true scope of Akira's power dawned on him.
Akira placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Go. Inform your daimyo immediately. We're heading back to Konoha."
Kimura nodded, still dazed. As Akira and his team disappeared once more in a flash of light, Kimura turned and sprinted for the palace.
Far away, back on the battlefield, Arui's blood stained the earth. His consciousness faded. Memories surfaced in fragmented flickers—childhood, training, laughter.
Then, a boy's smiling face. Young. Hopeful.
"Live well, Darui. Become a great ninja."
With that final thought, Arui's eyes fluttered shut. Darkness embraced him.
But the story was not over.
A cloaked figure emerged from the forest, silent as the grave.
"An elite jonin with a kekkei genkai... such a specimen must not go to waste," the figure murmured.
He bent down, placed a pale hand on Arui's body, and in an instant, vanished.