Chapitre 85: CH_3.26 (085)

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———

Shisui cut off the flow of chakra swimming through his body, and all the momentum from Shunshin no Jutsu (Body Flicker Jutsu) left his body, and he perfectly stopped on the ground with no extra steps needed for stabilization. His control over the jutsu had reached such mastery that the blades of grass around his feet didn't so much as flutter as he came to a stop.

He looked in silence at his young clanmate, Uchiha Itachi, the kid whom he considered a brother. Itachi stood in front of the Memorial Stone with the names of the brave heroes who had laid their lives down for the village.

"You wanted to talk to me?" asked Itachi, without looking away from the Memorial Stone.

"The clan has been worried about you since you joined the ANBU. You haven't been regular with your… duties," Shisui said.

"Worried. You mean, they're suspicious," said Itachi.

"Yes."

"They asked something of you?"

"To keep an eye on you."

"Father?"

"He was present and was the one to give the order."

Itachi turned to Shisui. "What do you think?"

"While not all of them think you're against the cause, some of them have begun to think that you might not be as enthusiastic about the cause as they think you should be," said Shisui.

"The cause," Itachi shook his head.

Following the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox's Attack, the Hidden Leaf's leadership began to suspect that the Uchiha were behind the attack due to the Sharingan's ability to control the beast. From that point onwards, the Uchiha were placed under close surveillance to find the truth— something accomplished by accumulating all of the Uchiha property scattered around the village and giving them a large section in one part of the village after the devastation caused by the beast's rampage. While it was true that a large amount of the Uchiha property had been destroyed during the rampage, most of the clan agreed that the reallocation to one section was solely for surveillance reasons.

This mistrust and isolation from the rest of the village created feelings of ill-will amongst the Uchiha and ultimately rekindled the hatred harboured towards the 'Senju-influenced' government ever since the Uchiha had been side-lined by giving them control of the Leaf Military Police Force.

That resulted in the beginning of the cause—led by the Clan Leader, Fugaku Uchiha—a coup d'état to overthrow the Hidden Leaf regime and instate the Uchiha on top of the village.

In preparation for the coup, the Uchiha started inserting its members within Konoha's command structure to act as spies. Shisui himself was among those spies who made it to ANBU and relayed information to the clan. Itachi was placed in ANBU as well, and while his role was the same, in some ways, he was a more critical piece than Shisui.

The Hidden Leaf's ANBU division was structured directly under the Hokage, but most ANBU reported to the ANBU Commander, the operating leader of the division. Only a small group of ANBU was directly under the Hokage's command. When Shisui joined the ANBU, the Uchiha clan wanted him to be placed under the Hokage's direct command, but he never got that opportunity.

On the other hand, Itachi was directly placed under the Hokage and had access to more sensitive information. Contrary to what the clan expected, Itachi became uncooperative with their needs. Unfortunately for them, the person tasked with keeping an eye on Itachi was also not in support of their operation, unknown to them.

Neither Shisui nor Itachi supported the Uchiha coup d'état because they knew it could trigger a Shinobi World War. They agreed that the Uchiha had been mistreated and deserved better as one of the founding clans and the village's protector. They even supported the vision of an Uchiha one day sitting on the Hokage chair. However, they didn't believe that the coup d'état was the way to achieve that.

"What are you thinking?" Shisui asked Itachi. They had met when Itachi graduated from the academy. Even then, Itachi always wore an indifferent expression, but with time, Shisui had learned to identify Itachi's facial quirks to recognize that his friend had made a decision.

"I believe it's time to let Lord Hokage know about this situation," said Itachi.

Shisui narrowed his eyes at the statement. Telling the Hokage meant betraying their clan, even if it was for the greater good. He licked his lips, thinking about the implications of such a decision.

"Do you disagree?" asked Itachi.

"Do you think it's wise to involve the Hokage? It could result in tensions rising," Shisui replied. He had been withholding information from the clan, but revealing their secrets and operations to their enemies was not a light decision.

"Silently opposing the plans won't lead us anywhere when the entire clan is bent on destroying everything this village stands for," Itachi's calm voice had a rare heated tone. "We can't do anything on our own. We need help."

'Oh, Itachi… if only you knew,' thought Shisui. He could potentially resolve the situation on his own, but he didn't want to take that route because of the ramifications.

Shisui sighed, "Alright… let's get the Hokage involved, but we discuss what all we disclose to him." He wasn't ready for his solution, which he considered to be extreme— for now, involving the Hokage seemed to be the most logical option.

Itachi nodded and returned to gazing at the Memorial Stone, as if remembering the names etched into the stone.

———

Takuma entered the Udon joint from the staff door and walked into the transfer area right outside the kitchen.

"Orders 40, 45, 47, and 50 are delivered," Takuma yelled out as he tore away the order slips hanging from the counter and threw them into the trash.

"Good job, kid!" came from inside the kitchen.

D-rank missions were no longer viable for Takuma. His dealer income was already earning more than his monthly allowance when he was under the state's care— which wasn't a large amount, but it settled his medical expenses. If not for Sango's treatment expenses, he could have lived off his drug income as he had done before he was a shinobi. The only thing he was potentially missing out on was the mission points. Mathematically, however, being in top condition before Ring fights, thus increasing his chances of winning, earned him more than doing D-rank missions. He didn't want to do D-rank missions, and the only reason he did them now was when C-rank missions with Iruka didn't meet his minimum quota. He had taken the D-rank mission as a delivery boy for an Udon joint because Iruka was away on a mission as part of a Jonin team.

As Takuma craned his neck to peer at the clock hanging near the ceiling, he heard, "Takuma!"

He looked out to the small dining area. Three very large people occupied the largest table that could accommodate ten people. One look at them, and Takuma knew they were from the Akimichi clan. It was the fourth smaller person that had called out to Takuma. He could only see a hand as the large Akimichi blocked the view.

Then Masaaki peeked through.

"Oh, Masaaki!" Takuma called back, thinking why Masaaki was in the company of Akimichi.

"Join us!" said Masaaki.

Takuma turned towards the kitchen and shouted, "Boss, can I take my break right now?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

Takuma shouted his thanks and turned back to Masaaki. "Give me a minute; I'll be right there."

After saying that, Takuma walked out of the staff's back entrance that opened up into a back alley. The moment he stepped out of the diner, he no longer looked like himself, and instead, he was a blonde man with a bright smile. He walked into the back alley on the other side of the street, where a middle-aged woman waited for him.

"Miss Shimada, my favorite customer," Takuma smiled widely. "How are you today?"

Miss Shimada was a civilian housewife that one could find in any residential area. The only difference was that she was one of Takuma's highest-grossing customers.

"Very good, thank you," Shimada said in an uptight manner without a hint of a smile on her face.

"Just like always," said Takuma. She never smiled. "What can I do for you today?"

"Double my usual," she said, taking out a thick cash clip of crisp fresh-of-the-printer notes. Takuma could almost smell the hot printer smell from them.

"Right up," Takuma dispensed the product after counting the cash. "Do you need something else, Miss Shimada?"

"No," she said while walking away from him.

"Just like always, then."

Takuma also walked back into the diner, undoing his disguise. He walked to Masaaki's table, which now had a tremendous amount of food on it. Takuma had memorized the menu, and their bill was going to be large and very good for the business.

"Come, sit beside me," Masaaki said. The Akimichi beside got up so that Takuma could go inside. Takuma didn't want to, but he sat between the Akimichi and Masaaki and was promptly squished between the two. "D-rank mission?"

"C-rank, actually. I'm spying on the boss inside to get evidence for money laundering. This entire joint is a front," when Takuma spoke without lowering his voice, all four looked towards the kitchen with surprise. "I'm joking; of course, it's a D-rank mission." Masaaki and the biggest Akimichi laughed immediately while the other two followed awkwardly. "… or is it," Takuma said with a small smile, and they quieted down. "Na, I'm just pulling your leg; it's a D-rank mission… I'm Takuma, by the way."

He was in a good mood after making the sale.

"Look how you got them. That was side-splitting," laughed the biggest Akimichi, who looked somewhat familiar to Takuma, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"This is the old uncle I was talking about," Masaaki introduced the old man. "Akimichi Choza."

Takuma furrowed his brow for a moment before they shot up when he finally recognized the man sitting across from him from a shinobi magazine. It was Akimichi Choza, the Clan Head of the Akimichi Clan. Which meant he was Akimichi Choji's father.

"I-It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Takuma tried his best to be proper and polite in front of the Head of one of the village's biggest and most influential clans. "I was in the same academy batch as Akimichi Hideaki, and I must admit, that boy is strong."

This was a huge situation that he wasn't prepared for. Takuma could feel the extra product in his pouch grow heavy, and it took a lot of self-control to not push it deeper into his pouch. He was in grave potential danger.

Choza turned to the Akimichi beside him.

"Doto's son."

"Ah, Doto's son, yes. If I remember correctly, he's learning under a Jonin," Choza nodded with a gentle and full smile. "No need to be nervous, Takuma. As you're on your break, be our guest, and eat with us."

"Thank you, sir."

After the introductions happened and the table began to eat with vigor, Takuma focused on the situation. He glanced at Masaaki, who was shoving the food without a care in the world, and remembered all the times his friend had brought up training under an "old man." Not once had Takuma thought it would be Akimichi Choza. He had no fucking idea how Masaaki had managed to get into this situation.

"I have to ask, how did you two meet?" said Takuma.

Masaaki looked up from his Udon bowl. "I was training with my bukijutsu one day when the old man came up to me. We fought—"

'They fought?!' Takuma exclaimed.

"—and then he took me under his wing."

Takuma felt his head churn. Here he was getting banged up in an arena three times a week, losing sleep selling weed around the village, laundering mission points out of LRC— and Masaaki was somehow training under Akimichi Choza.

He looked at Choza, who nodded and then at the other two Akimichi. One of them answered him.

"Clan Head saw potential in Masaaki and generously decided to help him reach his best potential. Masaaki is now under the care of the Akimichi Clan," he said arrogantly, but the mouthful of food made it come out anything but.

Takuma was once again confused. Masaaki had everything to gain from it, but what did the Akimichi clan gain? The confusion must've shown on his face as the Akimichi beside him leaned down to whisper.

"Masaaki is sponsored by the Akimichi clan. In return for the resources the clan provides for him to grow as a shinobi, he will work for the Akimichi clan and its interests."

Takuma's eyes widened as an inkling of understanding entered his brain. He glanced at Masaaki to see if he could discern any signs that showed Masaaki was being mistreated—but other than the bandage on the side of his neck, Masaaki looked to be fine.

The meal lasted close to an hour, with the plates coming and going from the table. Akimichi ate a lot and was good for the restaurant industry of the Leaf. As they were leaving, Takuma saw them off and asked to talk to Masaaki alone,

"You go ahead; I'll catch up," said Masaaki to the Akimichi.

Takuma waited for them to be outside of earshot before asking, "You're working for the Akimichi now? Do you understand what that means? Are you fine with that? They're not mistreating you, right? What kind of things—"

Masaaki put his finger on Takuma's lips. The usual happy-go-lucky expression had mellowed down to a small smile with seriousness showing through in his eyes. "I understand my current arrangement perfectly well, Takuma. The old man had made it very clear the day he invited me to join the clan," he said.

"How long will you have to work for them?" asked Takuma, still worried about Masaaki.

"That's between me and them," Masaaki said. He looked at his hand as he clenched his fist, "I want to get stronger, and if they can make me stronger, then I will continue working for the Akimichi clan. And it's not like they're terrible—everyone I train and spend time with are lovely people."

Masaaki smiled, "You worry too much, Takuma. I'm not dumb—"

"I never said that."

"Yes, I know. I understand what I agreed to, and it wasn't a spot decision— I thought about it long and hard before I agreed to the old man's deal. You don't have to be worried about whatever bad things you're worrying about— they're good people," Masaaki patted Takuma's shoulder hard and heavy.

Takuma breathed out as his shoulders loosened. He was still worried about his friend, but something from Masaaki told him that he had it under control.

"They're really treating you well?" asked Takuma.

Masaaki nodded with a smile.

Takuma sighed, "Alright, just… just take care of yourself."

"I will!" Masaaki grinned brightly as ever.

———

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Chapitre 86: CH_3.27 (086)

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The link is also in the synopsis.

———

The arena reserved for the weapons category was filled with anticipation on a Friday evening. It was a prime fighting spot in the Ring. The fighters who got an opportunity to fight on weekend spots knew they were under the spotlight - a sign that they were valued. It was reserved for veteran fighters, fighters on long winning streaks, and rising fighters to gain popularity that would elevate them to the next level.

It was a stage of opportunities.

"I wanted to see Ironbull go against Lady Fir," sighed a man in the audience.

The second man beside him spoke, "I heard she got called away on a mission."

"I was there when Lady Fir fought Ironbull last time. I so wanted to see the rematch," said the first man. "I don't even know the substitute. What's his name again?"

"Scars," replied the second man. "He has a 42-29 record. Pretty good."

"42-29?" the first man quirked a brow. "That's seventy-one fights. Then this is his last fight on the rookie contract," he knew a thing or two about how the contracts worked in the Ring. "Are they trying to get him to extend his contract by having him fight in a prime spot?" It was a known observation that many Ring fighters left after their first contract ended.

"Could be… but then why would they pair him against Ironbull? It's like putting a newborn calf against a… well, bull. Scars is going to get slaughtered."

The first man shook his head, "Ironbull is from the jutsu category - and the fight is in the weapons category. We don't know how well Ironbull will fight with his ninjutsu tied up."

The second man laughed at that. "You forget that Ironbull spent a year and a half in the weapons category before his first hiatus. And haven't you seen the tetsubo he wields? Ironbull will win this one, no doubt about it."

The first man cringed at the mention of the tetsubo. He had seen several Ironbull fights, and the man swung the war club like a demon on a rampage. The Ring might have desensitized him to the shinobi violence, but the memory of Ironbull crushing his opponent's thigh with his tetsubo was still seared in his mind. His bones quivered at the mere thought of what it would be like to have the war club whiff past him.

"I already put money on Ironbull," said the second man. "If you haven't, do it quickly before the counters stop accepting bets."

The first man wasn't the gambling kind but wondered if he could let his purse strings loose and put some money on what seemed to be an already decided fight. He wouldn't lose his money and would even make some winnings, no matter how minuscule, because of the odds.

———

A sheen of sweat covered Ironbull's bronze body as he walked into the fighter's tunnel with his bull mask that had a scratch on the lower left corner. Waiting for him were his team members, as they would be before any fight.

"Leader, about this Scars—"

Ironbull raised his hands. "My equipment," he said. The Ring staff checked the equipment before fights, and he didn't like to remove it once he had put it on, so he had them check it before he put everything on in the tunnel itself.

"Go ahead," he said as he put on his guards.

"Scars uses the standard weapons pack, partial to the kunai the most. He is…"

Ironbull listened to the intel gathered by his team on his opponent. He hadn't heard of this Scars before, it was decided that he would be fighting the fellow because Lady Fir had withdrawn from the fight.

He frowned behind his mask as his mood soured. The foul woman had beaten him twice before, and this time was supposed to be his victory. He had been preparing for a fight against her for months—hours spent recalling her patterns and movements, coming up with counters, and digging for openings.

All wasted. Who knows when they will get to fight next.

He was in no mood for this fight, and the only reason he had agreed to fight the nobody was because of the money. His contract promised great amounts of ryo for every fight, and he wasn't going to let that go away. It wasn't his fault that Lady Fir had withdrawn from the fight. Tsubura would have to kill him by sitting on him before he let a single ryo escape his grasp.

"… a seven-fight win streak," the intel continued, "that is attributed to the chakra augmentation—"

That interested Ironbull. "Chakra augmentations?" he asked.

"Strength augmentations."

Ironbull hummed. He had fought people stronger than him, but he hadn't fought anyone who used chakra augmentations.

"It's time," one of the staff members came to inform that it was time.

Ironbull raised his arm for one of the members to hand him his trusted iron-cored tetsubo with iron studs covering the surface.

"My tetsubo versus his strength augmentations—let's see who breaks first."

With great fanfare, Ironbull entered the arena with his team members forming an entourage that followed him to the metal gates of the cage. The audience cheered in a frenzy as Ironbull lifted the tetsubo off his back and above his chest in greeting to the people who had come to watch. They were there to see him, and Ironbull made it so they felt like they were being seen.

From the other side, the opposite of the pomp of Ironbull's entry, Scars entered the arena quietly as the crowd's cheers drowned the announcer's introduction.

When Ironbull noticed Scars entering the arena, he walked towards him with his tetsubo dragging against the arena floor. Usually, the announcer would stop the fighters from approaching each other before the fight, but as Ironbull walked to Scars, the announcer didn't say anything.

"You're just a kid," said Ironbull, looking down at Scars.

The size difference between the two fighters was apparent as they stood near each other. Ironbull was broad and tall with bulging muscles suitable to lift the bulky tetsubo. Scars, on the other hand, was lean and short with wiry limbs that didn't seem capable of holding any significant strength.

Scars looked up at Ironbull and tilted his head. "Ironbull, huh...with those things, Ironcow would be more suitable, don't you think?" he pointed at Ironbull's bulging chest, "Got milk? — Mooooo."

Ironbull laughed rowdily before staring down at Scars. He raised his tetsubo a few inches before letting the edge fall with a thump.

... thump

He finally said, "You're funny, kid. Try not to break quickly, or it won't be fun."

———

*Clang!*

The metal doors fell, and Ironbull charged towards Takuma with his tetsubo dragging on the floor behind him. Takuma felt for the metal in his weapons pouch and threw a volley of shuriken at his larger opponent.

Ironbull raised his war club with two hands and angled it to deflect or block the projectiles.

Takuma threw another volley of stars while moving back unhurriedly as Ironbull closed in the distance. He noticed the handle on the tetsubo was long with enough space for a two-handed grip, meaning that it was a two-handed weapon.

He recalled his experience facing two-handed weapons and based his strategy around it.

Ironbull leaped into the air, and as Takuma expected, he held the tetsubo in a two-handed grip and swung it down executioner-style. Takuma sidestepped at the last moment, and the metal ring on the blunt club's end cracked the floor.

Opportunity, thought Takuma, and without a doubt, he moved in for a stab in the chest with a kunai. Ironbull released one hand from the tetsubo and backhanded Takuma, sending him back staggering, but not before the kunai left a gash just above Ironbull's arm guard, spurting blood.

"Argh!" Ironbull groaned, his facial muscles twitching. The next second, the war club was up and swinging. Instincts took over Takuma like strings on a puppet—he bent his knees, and his back turned parallel to the floor as the tetsubo passed by above him, close enough that he could smell the wood, metal, and a faint scent of blood.

"Pesky little thing, aren't ya!" Ironbull laughed as he expertly swung his tetsubo in a downward swing that Takuma jumped away to dodge with two kunai hurling towards Ironbull's face.

The tetsubo moved with surprising dexterity and blocked against the kunai before they could hit Ironbull. Takuma narrowed his eyes as he put a strain on his legs, pushing him away from Ironbull, who once again gave chase.

If there was one thing he had developed in seventy-one fights in caged arenas was a sense of distance. He knew that the edge was near. A plan formed in his mind.

Takuma slowed down, and Ironbull took a mere second to barge into range. The tetsubo split the wind with a horizontal swing for Takuma's head, who squatted as the tetsubo neared and jumped with all his might as it passed.

In mid-air, Takuma turned back, grabbed onto the links of the cage, pushed with his feet, and in a moment, he was above Ironbull. Takuma looked down, and Ironbull looked up—their eyes met as Takuma raised his leg and brought it down in a Rock Lee-styled axe kick to the back of Ironbull's head.

Under his feet, Takuma felt the neck snap down.

Next step, he thought.

In a reserve grip, a gleaming kunai was already in Takuma's hand as he landed on the floor—and he stabbed it into the wrist that still stubbornly held onto the war club.

Ironbull screamed as his grip on his war club gave Takuma a chance to seize it and pull away.

Takuma stared at the screaming man as he moved away.

"I wonder how strong a bull is without its horns," he murmured as gears behind his eyes began to turn.

———

"You dirty brat!" Ironbull roared with a glower as he pulled the kunai out of his wrist. When he looked up, Scars was nowhere to be seen. He turned back and immediately found the kid with his tetsubo lying by the feet.

Scars stared at Ironbull as he raised his foot and stomped it down on the tetsubo. Under the unnatural force, the wood cracked as it splintered and flew away in all directions.

Clink…. Clink…. Clink.

Ironbull looked down and saw one of the iron studs rolled by his feet. He looked up only to come face-to-face with three kunai flying toward him. His instincts screamed as he dodged away—and yet, one of the kunai embedded itself into his shoulder.

His heart thrummed as he smelled blood. Ironbull reached up to his shoulder and pulled the kunai with a grunt.

"Moooo…" sang the brat as he kicked the broken tetsubo towards him.

Ironbull breathed in a shaky sigh and growled with hatred bubbling in his eyes, "I'm going to kill you." Under an enraged haze, he rushed towards Scars and picked up his broken tetsubo on the way—the outer wood might have been splintered, but the iron core was still intact.

Splintered wood would dig into the flesh—and he wanted it to hurt.

Scars ran towards him with a kunai in each hand, and the two met in a metal clash. Ironbull swung the war club for Scars to stab a kunai in the wood and pushed it away while the second kunai flew for his head. Ironbull turned his head away to dodge the kunai and, with barred teeth, slammed his head into Scars'. The boy reeled back, and Ironbull swung the tetsubo with his good hand, sending the boy flying.

Scars rag dolled across the arena, feeling the splinters of wood digging deeper into his flesh, and shook his head to stabilize his vision only to see Ironbull's tetsubo coming down for his head. He jumped back, and his eyes glanced at the ground for a moment.

Ironbull pulled the war club up to swing it again, feeling the pain from his injured shoulder, when he noticed Scars pulling senbon out of his pouch. He flexed his muscles and angled the tetsubo just before they could pierce his neck.

It was then he heard,

"You need to rely less on that club and learn how to dodge."

The ground beneath Scars cracked and exploded as he all but teleported into range with a cocked arm with bulging veins. Ironbull moved the arm with the injured wrist in the way of the body shot.

Crack!

Before the pain could even hit, Ironbull knew that the bone in his arm had shattered. One thought passed through his mind—'chakra augmentation.'

A guttural and deep cry escaped Ironbull that was immediately cut off as—

Crack!

— Scars' other fist dug into Ironbull's torso, shattering ribs.

Ironbull coughed up blood as his vision blurred, and he began to feel faint. He tried to raise his tetsubo in front of him. His weapon, which had long since seized to feel heavy in his hands, now felt like it was being sucked into the ground.

Scars raised his leg and kicked Ironbull in the front, sending the larger man flying across the arena.

Sango watched from the fighter's tunnel as the metal gates opened, and Takuma walked out with the people slapping the mesh barriers as he walked past them. Most of them didn't look happy. She knew those angry people must've lost their money and feared that they would swarm him if the barriers gave away.

She was about to call out to him when she heard footsteps behind her, and her breath caught when she saw a fat man that looked like he was made of tires trod out from the shadow with two guards behind him.

She recognized him— Tsubura, the Ring's boss.

Tsubura glanced at her for half a moment before looking away at Takuma with a greasy smile.

"Ah, my proud boy, Scars. That was—"

Takuma cut him off the moment he stepped into the tunnel, "So much for balanced opponents, eh, boss," he spat and stepped close to Tsubura. The two guards stepped ahead between Takuma and Tsubura. Takuma continued, "My contract just ended, boss. And if you want me to continue fighting, then you either pay me more or— make these fights balanced!"

Tsubura's smile didn't even twitch as Takuma spewed the heated words.

"From what I can see, you're relatively uninjured while Ironbull is going through a tough time right about now," his smile turned greasier, and his eyes sharpened. "Maybe you're right, the fight was unbalanced— maybe we should've paired you against a tougher opponent. What do you say, boy?"

Takuma glared at Tsubura before walking away with heated steps.

Sango followed after him to the medical room, where the moment they entered, Takuma collapsed on the ground. Sango immediately locked the door and rushed to Takuma's side. Other than some bruises and wood splinters cutting into his flesh, Takuma was relatively uninjured.

It was his arms… they were trembling aggressively and had turned a worrying red. She looked down at his leg, and even though it was much better, she could see similar signs.

Sango, having seen this before, began the healing process with haste. "You idiot," she cursed as she removed his mask to help him breathe better. "Either figure it out already or stop using the augmentation."

It was almost every fight where she had to heal bruising, internal bleeding, bones with hairline fractures, or outright muscle tears. He had been using the chakra augmentations for months now, and after healing him so many times, she had realized what exactly Takuma had been doing. She had researched to make her job easier and had found that his ways were primitive. When she tried to make him give up, as she couldn't see it reaching a point where Takuma was envisioning it, he had ignored her advice and kept on using it.

"I-I… used it three times in a row," Takuma eeked out.

"What?"

"In a row," Takuma said again as his chest rose up and down. "I haven't been able to do it three times in a row."

As Sango looked up at Takuma's face, even though it was twitching with pain, there was a gritted smile on his face. She looked down at his arms only to notice that even though it had only been a minute... his arm was already looking stabilized.

———

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