Chapter 7.3: The Demon and the Inverted World
Sasuke's exhausted praise, "Don't you dare lose," hung in the thick, misty air for a moment before Naruto's reply cut through it like a shard of glass.
"To who?"
The question wasn't directed at Sasuke. It was a casual, rhetorical statement of fact aimed at the man on the tree branch.
Zabuza's visible eyebrow twitched. The sheer, unadulterated arrogance of the boy was staggering. He had seen the Uchiha kid's desperate Nintaijutsu. A neat trick, but nothing more. This orange brat, who had done nothing but dodge, was now acting as if he, Zabuza Momochi, Demon of the Hidden Mist, wasn't even a factor.
"You've got a mouth on you, kid. I'll enjoy tearing it off," Zabuza growled, hopping down from the branch. The Kubikiribōchō landed with a heavy thud, its sheer presence a threat.
Naruto didn't even glance at his teammates. "Kakashi-sensei, keep them back. This might get a little… weird." He pulled the simple wakizashi from his sleeve.
"Collapse, Sakanade."
From Zabuza's perspective, the world seemed to stutter for a moment. The plain sword in the boy's hand shimmered and twisted, the metal reforming into an impossible shape with an ornate ring at the hilt and five perfect holes along its blade. It was a weapon from a nightmare, a piece of art that had no place on a battlefield.
Then came the mist. It wasn't the heavy, damp fog Zabuza was used to. It was a fine, pinkish vapor that pulsed gently from the sword's holes, carrying a cloyingly sweet scent.
Zabuza scoffed. "A mist jutsu? You're mocking me, boy. You're trying to fight the Demon of the Hidden Mist in his own territory."
He vanished. A master of the Silent Killing art, he was utterly soundless. He reappeared directly behind Naruto, the massive Executioner's Blade raised high, ready to cleave the boy in two.
He swung.
The blade, heavy enough to shatter stone, cut through nothing but empty air. Naruto hadn't turned. He hadn't flickered. He had simply taken a single, casual step to his right, as if he were stepping out of the way of a clumsy pedestrian.
Zabuza's eyes narrowed. Lucky dodge. He spun, swinging the sword in a devastating horizontal arc.
Again, Naruto's reaction was minimal. He ducked, the motion lazy, letting the colossal blade whisper over his head.
"Big sword, big swing, big miss," Naruto's voice echoed, seeming to come from Zabuza's left. But the boy was clearly on his right.
A wave of vertigo washed over Zabuza. The ground felt like it was tilting. He shook his head, planting his feet to regain his balance. "A disorienting genjutsu? Pathetic tricks."
He charged, this time aiming a direct thrust, a move designed to impale. Naruto just stood there, Sakanade twirling lazily by its ring pommel. As the blade neared, he took a step backward. And suddenly, he was right in Zabuza's face, the thrust having fallen short as if the distance between them had warped.
"Are you closing your eyes when you swing?" Naruto asked, his voice now sounding like it was right behind Zabuza's head.
The psychological pressure was mounting. Zabuza's senses, honed by a thousand life-or-death battles, were screaming at him, but they were all screaming different things. He decided to end this farce. He leaped back, gaining distance and flashing through hand seals.
"Too slow," Naruto stated. He didn't make a hand seal. He simply raised his free hand, index and middle fingers extended. "Bakudō no Ichi: Sai." (Binding Spell Number One: Restrain.)
Zabuza felt an invisible force slam into him, pinning his arms to his back. His hand seals shattered. The raw physical power was minimal—he was able to flex and break the hold in under a second—but the shock was absolute. No hand seals! What was that jutsu?!
While Zabuza was reeling from the impossible technique, Naruto pointed his fingers at him. "Hadō no Yon: Byakurai." (Way of Destruction Number Four: Pale Lightning.)
A concentrated, crackling bolt of white lightning erupted from Naruto's fingertips. It wasn't a massive, flashy jutsu like Kakashi's Lightning Blade; it was a thin, viciously fast spear of pure energy. Zabuza, reacting on pure instinct, managed to throw himself to the side. The bolt tore through his shoulder, searing flesh and drawing a pained grunt.
He clutched his shoulder, staring at Naruto with a mixture of rage and dawning horror. Two distinct, powerful techniques. Zero hand seals.
"What… what ARE you?" Zabuza snarled.
"Just a guy with a weird sword," Naruto replied with a shrug.
This was the ultimate humiliation. Zabuza fell back on his most trusted technique. He formed a single seal. "Hiding in Mist Technique!"
The pinkish vapor was instantly swallowed by a thick, oppressive white fog. Visibility dropped to nothing. This was Zabuza's world. His killing field.
"You've lost, boy," his voice echoed from all around, disembodied and menacing. "In here, I am the hunter. I will find you by the sound of your own heartbeat, and your life will end before you even see the blade."
In the fog, Kakashi tensed. "This is bad. This is Zabuza's perfect killing field."
Sasuke, leaning against a tree for support, strained his eyes, seeing nothing but white. "He can't fight what he can't see…"
A sigh echoed from Naruto's position. A sigh of profound boredom. "Ya still don't get it, do ya?" Naruto's voice was clear, not muffled by the fog at all. "This is my mist, not yours. You're just a guest in it."
Zabuza stalked through the fog, listening. He heard it. A soft footstep. Behind him, to the left. Perfect. He whirled, swinging the Kubikiribōchō with all his force, a silent, deadly arc of steel designed to decapitate.
The blade hit nothing.
"Lookin' for me?"
Zabuza froze. The voice was in front of him. To his right. The footstep had been an illusion. He had fallen for the oldest trick in the book because his senses were still lying to him. He had attacked a phantom sound, coming from the wrong direction. He was completely, utterly open.
He tried to bring his sword around, but it was too late. A hand, glowing with that mesmerizing blue and pink energy, gently placed itself on the flat of the Kubikiribōchō.
All the momentum of Zabuza's furious swing died instantly. The massive sword stopped dead, held by the open palm of a twelve-year-old boy.
Then, Naruto twisted his wrist.
Using Zabuza's own forward momentum and the sheer leverage of the giant blade against him, Naruto ripped the sword from his grasp. The Kubikiribōchō, the legendary Executioner's Blade, spun through the air and embedded itself deep into a tree trunk with a deafening THUNK.
The mist cleared slightly. Zabuza stood there, disarmed, his hands empty, his eyes wide with disbelief. Naruto stood a few feet away, Sakanade no longer spinning, its tip resting gently, almost tenderly, against the pulse of Zabuza's throat.
The fight was over. He had never even landed a blow.
"Play time's over, Demon," Naruto said, his voice flat, devoid of any of its earlier mockery. "Checkmate."