In this incident, Yagura Karatachi was, in a way, innocent.
Obito took vengeance on Kirigakure for Rin Nohara's death.
But in truth, it was all Madara's plot—he manipulated Kiri's Anbu and staged the whole thing.
Obito was toyed with from beginning to end, and never realized it.
Yagura had it even worse.
A perfectly legal shota, minding his own business at home—until a lunatic in a mask showed up, hypnotized him, brainwashed him, and turned him to the dark side.
None of that, however, concerned Yorin.
Maybe after the battle, he would look back and cluck his tongue: "Yagura had it pretty rough."
But right now, his heart was calm as steel—only battle lust boiled.
Yagura was a good opponent: a dyed-in-the-wool Kage-class veteran. Even without the jinchūriki factor, Yorin judged him stronger than Kakuzu had been.
The great villages' foundations aren't something a small-village rogue like Kakuzu can match.
Surprise me, Yagura.
Make it fun, Yagura.
Fight me at full strength, Yagura.
Because this might be your last chance, Yagura Karatachi.
Yagura: "!"
In the next instant, Yagura attacked Uchiha Yorin!
Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet!
Stronger by far than Mei's earlier version—his hand seals were pared down to little more than a clap.
A dragon of floodwater lunged with fangs and claws, as if to erase the man who dared to provoke him.
"Fine technique. Useless—wait, I see!"
Yorin slipped the dragon aside with ease—then the next wave hit.
Hidden Mist Technique—but not the usual kind. This was an enhanced version.
Ordinary Hidden Mist is trivial to pierce with the Sharingan. Yagura's mist was laced with special Water chakra—its concealment pushed beyond what a standard Sharingan could see through.
Standard Sharingan.
Yorin's eyes glinted; the corner of his mouth rose. "Interesting—"
A storm of Water Release burst from all sides—
Water Dragon Bullet!
Waterfall Basin Technique!
Water Formation Pillar!
Water Bullet!
By the end, Yagura had even dipped into the Hōzuki's clan arts. Whatever his mild exterior, he wasn't so simple.
From sky, ground, the four quarters—even from beneath—relentless torrents hammered Yorin, trying to drown him where he stood.
He'd been hurt badly trading blows with Jiraiya—but fought now like a man unscathed.
Was it a jinchūriki's vitality—or that Obito simply didn't care if he lived?
Likely both.
Which was fine. Half-dead Kage aren't fun to fight. This was.
Yorin darted through the barrage—Body Flicker and tight footwork threading the needle. Feeling the skin-of-the-teeth grazes, his estimation of Yagura ticked up again—
In raw killing power, Yagura's jutsu didn't match Kakuzu's composite Thunder-Sea Sky Howl. But in sheer volume and firing tempo—merged into the mist—Yagura had the edge.
He was also using Mist Body Flicker—and the arts of Silent Killing—folding himself into the fog.
In the original, these were Momochi Zabuza's signature tricks. Yorin was certain—this Yagura was stronger and fiercer than that Zabuza.
Hold out long enough and you slip. With the chakra-laced mist blinding even a normal Sharingan, Yagura's plan was sound—and deadly. Keep this up, and Yorin's odds of losing rose sharply.
If he were a normal Uchiha, he'd have no choice but to disengage and reset.
But he wasn't just any three-tomoe.
Uchiha Yorin opened his Sharingan.
What flashed wasn't the usual blood-red glow—it was a golden-crimson paired with frost-white.
The blazing sun is Yang—golden-crimson; the bright moon is Yin—frost-white. In that moment, Yorin's eyes held sun and moon, Yin and Yang united—the visage of a Heaven–Man.
Never seen before—Ōtsutsuki, Asura, Indra—no one had eyes like these.
The tomoe were still three—but even an idiot like White Zetsu wouldn't mistake these for any ordinary Sharingan.
Fog is only water—and water, under lightning's truth, is nothing.
"There. Yes—there!
"Ready, Yagura? I—am—coming!"
With the mist laid bare under his Sun–Moon pupils, Yorin smiled—confident, delighted—turned toward Yagura. A flick of Thunder–Fire blades, and he blurred—appearing in front of him in a heartbeat.
Lightning swept horizontal, flame cut vertical—Uchiha Two-Sword · Cross Slash!
But the next second, Yagura's frame faded into fog and vanished—Mist Body Flicker.
Stronger than Zabuza's Mist Flicker.
Enhanced Hidden Mist, enhanced Silent Killing, enhanced Flicker—together forged a hyper-mobile taijutsu master far beyond Zabuza.
No tailed-beast power—just Yagura's own steel—a Kage-class through and through.
"Dodged? Good—then beating you will please me."
Missing didn't anger Yorin—it thrilled him. The stronger the foe, the sweeter the victory.
"Come on. Faster. Harder. Otherwise—you still won't escape my blades. Hear me, trash—ha… ha… hahahahaha—"
He laughed madly, chasing Yagura as he blinked through the fog—dodging the hail of Water Bullets streaking in reply.
Other techniques had wider blasts, greater force; at this speed, only the supersonic water bullets could pin Yorin down.
Yagura tried trading blows—after a few, he couldn't keep up.
Yorin wasn't only fast—he was brutally strong, a beast of a fighter—and he used Monstrous Strength to vary weight and tempo on each cut.
He, a little turtle shota, nearly got chopped in two after two exchanges—he panicked and pulled back. Hit and run—Mist Flicker's dodge and Water Bullet's speed to skirmish.
At least this way he wouldn't be one-shotted.
Yes—one-shotted.
He was sure the only reason he'd survived this long was Yorin's fever—the cat-and-mouse thrill holding the blade.
…
He was partly right—but not a taunt. The reason he still breathed was that Yorin was testing him.
Fresh from devouring the Swordsmen's swordcraft—and facing a Yagura this good—why waste it? Try it—fold it in—then kill him.
Especially Mangetsu's techniques.
So this was the prodigy "beloved by the swords." His sword lore outweighed Fuguki's, Jūzō's, and Raiga's combined.
Such fine technique on Mangetsu's merely decent frame was wasted. In Yorin's over-spec body—perfect.
But—any repertoire has an end—especially at shinobi speed. In a blink, Yorin had run Mangetsu's catalog, grafted what fit into his own style.
From here, it would be months of polish and battle.
Which is to say—
"Farewell, Mizukage."
Yorin stopped. While Yagura frowned, the familiar wheel whirled up behind Yorin—
Not Chidori kunai this time.
The Swordsmen fight had bumped the technique from A to S—Raikiri kunai, not Chidori.
Namu Gatling Bodhisattva—sixfold purity of depleted uranium—
three thousand six hundred rounds a breath—great mercy ferry all beings.
Fog's essence is water. Water conducts.
Yagura's instincts screamed—he tried to dodge—too late. The Raikiri-kunai web fanned out like a sky-wide net. Lightning raced through the mist—turning the world to white thunder.
No escape.
Even with mobility beyond most Kage, under heaven's wrath—no way out.
He would die.
Die under incomparable lightning.
He accepted it—yet raged against it with everything he had.
He poured out all chakra—roared—and transformed again.
The monstrous turtle reared once more.
The vast bulk cut through the fog—every eye in Konoha saw it clearly now—
A giant monster.
Mouth opening, ignoring wounds, chakra surging—the Tailed Beast Bomb began to form like a tactical nuke. Its target: Konoha. If Yorin dodged, he'd be fine—but the village would suffer. This was Yagura's last, desperate strike.
Yorin's answer—Susanoo · Kengo-Raijin—Thunder–Fire blades lifted as thirty-two Raikiri kunai locked on—tripling the blades' length and girth—
Then—the finisher—
A super-heavy cleave for giant targets—
Uchiha Two-Sword · Thunder–Fire Sword Dance · Sky-Sunder!
A mere Tailed Beast Bomb?
Watch me—Sky-Sunder cleaves you in half!