To Be a Kunoichi

Run, Hide, Fight

Kakashi had drawn up a route, west to the border of Waterfall Country, the most friendly nation in-between Fire and Earth - not that that was saying much. Once they had made it through Waterfall, they would regroup in the villages of Fire Country and collect intel on what had happened back in Konoha. It was likely that news of the Hokage’s death - if the Hokage had indeed died - would not make it out of Fire Country for months, keeping Konoha secure through the fraught transition of power. Inside the country would be a different story, especially close to Konoha itself. Konoha nin stationed around Fire would likely be recalled to the village, at least for a short time, to ensure stability. They would be much more free to move within Fire Country as a result. 

Above all, Kakashi wanted to avoid them becoming sitting ducks. They needed to make it far, far away from their last known location, from the site of their battle. Their trail would be too easy to pick up at the moment, either by curious Iwa nin or by reinforcements sent from Konoha. 

It is a good plan, a solid plan, even if Naruto would have preferred a different course of action. Shisui can walk with aid, and Tenzo should be awake within the day. In less than forty-eight hours Naruto’s chakra will have replenished enough to heal Shisui, and then they can increase their pace. As it is, they expect to make it a quarter of the way to the border of Earth and Waterfall in the next two days, travelling slowly and without the use of chakra until they have made it past Iwa, to avoid alerting the sensor nin that usually patrol the outskirts of Hidden Villages. 

By Naruto’s count, they will run out of rations somewhere in Waterfall, and it is autumn, nearly winter. She tries not to think too much of it.

But plans, Naruto has learned, rarely survive first contact with the enemy. 

It’s as they near Iwa that Naruto first senses them, and by then they are already too close. Silently, she taps Kakashi’s shoulder and signs, one-handed, Iwa - four - northwest. She tries to swallow down her rising panic. 

If Kakashi is as afraid as she is, he doesn’t show it. Shisui only stares back with naked dread. 

We’re going to die here, thinks Naruto. 

After a long, long moment, Kakashi responds. 

Fox - run, he signs. For a moment, Naruto doesn’t understand. How could she run, when her teammates can’t? 

Furious, Naruto shakes her head, and thinks back to her Academy training, the very foundations of her skills as a kunoichi. 

Run, hide, fight. They can’t run. She doesn’t have enough chakra to form a barrier - but the chances of the team of Iwa nin carrying a sensor are low, so they would have to hedge their bets and hope to get lucky. 

Hide, she signs back at Kakashi, scanning the surroundings. People often didn’t look for things hidden above them, and, in any ensuing fight, high ground would be a small advantage, and one they cannot afford to throw away. 

The land around the Stone Village is, well, stony. Trees are sparse, not enough to tree-jump with, so the rapidly approaching Iwa team will be travelling on the ground. Naruto repositions Tenzo, and scales the ten-foot crest of a boulder. Up top, she lays Tenzo face-down.

She reaches down to help Shisui up - the climb will jostle his leg, she knows. As she clasps her hands around his wrists and hauls him up, their eyes meet. She’s not sure what they would say, if it were safe to speak. His dark eyes accuse her. 

Kakashi is the last one up, ever their captain. On their bellies in the dirt, they wait. 

It’s excruciating. 

She can’t even risk moving to sign to them - Half-mile, she wants to say. Arrival - imminent. She doesn’t even blink, pressing her body as close to the ground as she possibly can. 

And then they’re close enough that she can see their flak-jackets. A team of chunin, all men, returning from a mission, she thinks. Hopefully tired and unobservant. 

To Naruto’s growing horror, they slow as they approach their hiding place, circling around nervously. 

“Someone’s been here,” one of them says. 

“Of course someone’s been through,” another replies. “We’re pretty close to home - teams pass through all the time.”

Beside her, she feels Kakashi’s body tense. Don’t move, she begs in her head, like if she just thinks it hard enough, she can stop him throwing himself down to his death. 

“No,” says the first chunin. “These people never left.”

Under the rush of adrenaline, over the pounding of her heart, she sees the chunin’s head turn upwards. 

Naruto’s body moves. 

She lands on top of the first Iwa nin, driving her kunai deep into his shoulder. He stumbles, and cries out, and before any of the other three can react she rips it out and stabs again - the side of his neck, this time. He drops like a stone, spraying blood across her hands and mask. 

She leaps backwards, out of the way of a flurry of shuriken. Under her mask, she bares her teeth in a snarl. 

The three remaining Iwa nin fan out in front of her, silent, enraged. Then, two attack as one, hoping to corner her in a pincer manoeuvre. She propels herself upwards, but they expect this - the third bears down on her. 

If he catches me, it’s over, she thinks, releasing a burst of wind from her palm. It knocks the third off his trajectory, and he falls past her, landing heavy on the ground. It sounds like it hurts. 

Naruto is falling, too, unable to sustain her momentum. She lands in the middle of the three, far from where she wants to be. Another precious burst of chakra propels her forwards, faster than their eyes should be able to follow. She brings up her kunai, and, in a flash of red, she’s twenty feet away from them, away from her teammates. 

The handle of her kunai is slippery with blood. She grips it tighter and, with some satisfaction, hears a pained wail behind her. 

But an enemy that can scream is not an enemy that’s dead. She’s already exhausted, and only one of her attacks has been fatal. She turns on her heel to face them. 

“You bitch,” one of them spits. Naruto doesn’t reply. 

The injured Iwa nin falls back behind his teammates, and the other two ready themselves. They’re going to switch to ninjutsu, she realises. That’s bad. Very, very bad. 

“She’s a Konoha nin,” the wounded one says. And that’s even worse. 

As the earth shakes under her, Naruto makes a split second decision. She can’t neutralise doton, she’s not Kakashi. She doesn’t have enough chakra for another burst of speed. 

She aims and throws her kunai, not a second too soon - she’s thrown violently to the side, crushed against the ground. She feels her ribs break, hears the crunch of her bones. The pain comes a moment after. 

She hears the clang of metal on metal and tastes blood. Wheezing, she rolls to her belly and struggles to stand - Kakashi has followed her, and is engaging the final two Iwa shinobi. Her aim had been true, as one of them is slumped on the ground, kunai through his eye socket. 

But Kakashi is in worse shape than she was, and he’s slow. He can barely parry, barely keep up. 

We’re going to die here, she thinks hysterically, and she watches the Iwa nin’s arm raise and fall towards Kakashi.  

Her whole body burns as it consumes the very last of her chakra. It hurts worse than anything has ever hurt, shredding tenketsu in her legs as she forces herself forwards, faster, faster. Still she’s not quite fast enough to parry - Naruto blocks the kunai with her body, and feels it slide between her ribs, hears it slice through muscle and tissue and scrape against bone. 

The Iwa nin pulls the kunai out, and she drops like a stone. Kakashi howls. There’s so much blood. 

She can’t heal herself, and Kurama’s chakra burns like fire - she can feel it spreading along her broken chakra paths, flowing through her. 

She can hear the sounds of a fight behind her, but her wound isn’t just bleeding, it’s bubbling - her lung has been punctured. She tries to press down on the wound with her hands, but it’s hard to move them - she can’t curl her fingers, and her hands slip as she tries to apply pressure. 

Kakashi is kneeling beside her, now. 

She tries to speak - I’m frightened, it hurts, or my lung is punctured, you need to seal the wound to prevent it from collapsing, or I don’t want to die like this. But she only manages to wheeze through the blood flooding her throat and mouth. 

And his hands are on hers, and he says something. But Naruto is cold, and tired, and then even the effort of keeping her eyes open is too much.

Princess

The next morning, before dawn, Naruto woke to pounding at her door. It was Shisui, she realised, as she rolled out of bed and padded over to her door. She was honestly surprised he had bothered with the door at all, as ninja perpetually preferred to enter and exit through windows. 

“Whassa matter?” she said groggily, throwing open the door without preamble. 

Shisui was already fully dressed and cheerful, hands shoved in pockets as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Good morning, Naruto! My obaa-san wants to meet you.”

“You don’t have to babysit me,” Naruto said, suddenly alert and serious, the previous days’ events flooding back to her. “I won’t do anything stupid like yesterday, I promise.”

“I know. I’m here as your friend, okay? And my obaa-san really does want to meet you.”

Naruto paused, scuffing her feet by the door. “Let me get dressed, first,” she mumbled, then closed the door with a click. 

She had never been invited to anyone’s home, before. She wasn’t quite sure what to do, or what to wear. Obviously, her ANBU uniform wasn’t appropriate for breakfast with someone’s grandmother - and neither was her favourite orange hoodie and green shorts. Shisui was dressed like a clan boy. 

Oh, wait, she thought. Shisui IS a clan boy. 

She definitely couldn’t wear her orange hoodie. 

Naruto scrambled back to her room and began rooting through her closet - most things she owned weren’t new when she got them, with the exception of her uniform. But - there! 

Hung at the very back, and never worn, was a white-and-green kunoichi’s yukata. These yukatas lacked the long sleeves that their civilian counterparts wore, and often stopped above the knee or even higher, for ease of movement. Naruto had scavenged it after it had been thrown out, and mended a rip in the sleeve herself. It was on the underside of the sleeve, barely noticeable unless she raised her arms. She had planned to wear it to festivals, or shrines - but, in all honesty, not having appropriate clothes was not the only thing stopping her from going. 

She slipped out of her night clothes and into the yukata, securing it with its matching dark green obi - and slipped a kunai into the back, where it rested with its handle in the groove of her spine. It wouldn’t do to be completely unarmed. She matched it with navy trousers and her only non-ANBU pair of shoes. 

Briefly, she considered her hair - it did grow fast, and was now well on its way to her shoulders, although she had cut it short only a month ago. It fell, dark red and pin-straight, across her face. She pushed her hair back behind her ears and dashed back to the door. 

“I’m ready!” she announced, flinging open the door. She was undeniably excited, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

Shisui laughed easily and offered her his arm. Naruto took it, and for a moment, she felt like a normal girl. A normal girl with a friend, or a brother, walking down the road. 

Naruto lived in the older part of the village, in a district more or less untouched since it had first sprung up, in the days before strict street grids and building plans - apartments rose up in haphazard towers around them, and streets were winding and narrow. Shisui led her on a twisting path towards the edge of the village, where crowded districts gave way to sparse houses, canals off the Naka river, and dirt roads. 

Soon enough, they’re crossing a bridge over the Naka river, on the edge of a walled compound. Naruto had never been inside a clan compound, before - most were walled off, not allowing entry to outsiders. The gates are emblazoned with the mon of the Uchiha, ten feet tall and shining in the early morning sun. They’re guarded by two imposing Uchiha nin. The feeling of their eyes raking over her made her skin crawl, and she fought down the urge to bare her teeth at them.

Shisui’s grandmother was a short old woman, Uchiha Kasumi, who greeted them wearing a neatly pressed yukata and her hair drawn up into a severe bun. Naruto bowed to her and murmured a greeting as she entered Shisui’s house. 

“Here, girl, let me look at you,” she said, and Naruto straightened up as much as she could. The old woman’s dark eyes bored into her. Naruto wasn’t sure what she wanted to see. 

Then, Kasumi sighed, and took Naruto by the shoulder. “Come, girl. Eat with us.”

She led Naruto through the house, and out onto the engawa, which wrapped around the home, overlooking the garden. Shisui followed behind them, moving silently across the tatami floors. 

All three sat around a low table, already arranged with breakfast. Kasumi poured Naruto a cup of hot green tea. It steamed in the early morning sun. 

“Shisui tells me you have a futon affinity,” Kasumi said. “Unusual in this country. But you don’t much look like a Fire Country girl.”

Naruto inclined her head. “I don’t have parents, Kasumi-san. I wouldn’t know if I’m from Fire Country or not.”

“But don’t you serve in Konoha’s ranks? Wear our symbol proudly on your forehead? If that doesn’t make you from Fire Country, I should hardly know what does.”

Naruto blinked, taken aback. Then, she saw the crinkles at the corners of Kasumi’s eyes, and the small smile playing on her lips. 

“I suppose it does,” she acknowledged. “I’ve never been outside our borders, or even the village walls.”

“You’ll get to travel soon,” said Shisui. “You’re improving by leaps and bounds. We’ll be authorised to leave on missions before too long.”

“I should hope so,” said Kasumi, glancing back at her grandson. “This one gets restless too easily. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was the one with the wind in him, not this young lady.”

Conversation and food flowed easily, after that. Naruto had seldom had food like this, steamed rice, miso soup, pickled plums - the kind of breakfast a mother might prepare, or, she supposed, a grandmother. Soon, their plates were clean and their cups were empty. 

Kasumi stood, slowly. Shisui offered her his arm - this was where he had learned his manners, Naruto thought to herself - and helped her to her feet. 

“Come, girl,” said Kasumi. “I have something for you.”

Shisui lingered in the garden, clearing the table behind them. Naruto followed Kasumi to the doorway of a bedroom, and hesitated. 

“Don’t just stand there, come in. There’s a black lacquer box in the bottom drawer of the dresser, these old knees can’t take the strain.”

Naruto dithered in the doorway for a moment more, then entered. There was an old wooden dresser by the bed, a chair, and a mirror. She knelt, and slid out the bottom drawer. 

She couldn’t help but gasp when she saw it - gleaming black sides, wearing away to dark red around the edges and the latch, delicate gold patterns running up and down the seamless wooden panels. The lid was emblazoned, gold, white, and green, with the image of an old city by the seashore. The waves were so delicately wrought that Naruto thought she could see them rocking gently back and forth. 

She was almost afraid to touch it, but, at Kasumi’s command, she carefully grasped it in both hands and lifted it up. It was heavy, but she had expected that. 

“Bring it over, and sit,” said Kasumi, gesturing to the chair and mirror. “Open it.”

Holding her breath, Naruto set the box down and pressed its mother-of-pearl latch. The box opened with a smart click. She carefully opened the lid. 

In her lap, between her hands, lay the most beautiful jewellery she had ever seen - silk myrtle flowers, petals still crisp and shining, hair combs, sharpened pins, elaborate earrings and necklaces and rings. 

“When I was a girl, I was an attendant to Princess Mito, the Shodaime's wife,” said Kasumi, resting her hands on the back of the chair. “She had no living children to pass these on to,” she continued. “And she had the most lovely red hair, so beautiful. They’re not suited for a lady of my colouring, I’ve never worn them.”

Perhaps sensing Naruto’s hesitation, Kasumi leaned down and pressed a beautiful golden hair-comb into her hands. Naruto turned the comb over in her hands, and saw that it had hollow teeth - a kunoichi’s ornament, which could be filled with poison and dipped in wax to seal each tooth. A red gemstone, carved in a familiar spiral, sat at its apex, and pearls studded its length. 

“It’s so beautiful,” Naruto whispered. 

“Do you know how to use kanzashi?”

“No.”

“Of course not,” Kasumi grumbled. “Little girl on a team of grown men, who’s to teach you how to be a lady?”

Kasumi showed her, then, how to twist her hair around the deceptively elegant hairpins, and tuck flowers and jewels into her hair. Soon, she was pinning the last of the myrtle flowers into her hair, styled in two buns. 

“There,” said Kasumi, satisfied. “A beautiful young kunoichi.”

Looking in the mirror, Naruto brought her hand up to one of the kanzashi sticks, running her finger across its sharpened point. Blood welled up on her fingertip almost immediately. A kunoichi’s ornament, indeed. The lacquered wood was as elegant as it was deadly. 

“I want you to keep them,” said Kasumi, “Do you understand, girl?”

Lovely red hair, thought Naruto, and, no living children, and you don’t look like a Fire Country girl. 

“I think so,” she said softly.

Kasumi leaned over her, eyes intense and hard with anger and grief. What she would have said next, Naruto never knew - Shisui interrupted them, knocking cursorily on the doorframe before entering. 

“There’s trouble at the gate,” he said, eyes tight, “They’re asking for Naruto.”

Family

Bear was at the gate. 

His teammates flanked him, arms crossed over their chests, masks snarling. All their masks were frightening, of course, but Naruto had grown to see the mischief painted into her own mask, the calmness in Tenzo’s, the mirth in Shisui’s - or perhaps she had just learned to see them that way. 

She felt like a child, far from the powerful, beautiful kunoichi Kasumi had pronounced her to be only minutes before. Shisui was gripping her hand tightly, and she hid behind him as best she could.

“Hokage wants to see the girl,” said Bear, addressing Shisui more than her. 

“She needs to leave the Uchiha compound,” his teammate, Hawk, added. Naruto imagined his lips drawing back in a snarl under his mask. 

“I’ll take her to the Hokage tower right away,” said Shisui. 

“Orders from the Hokage,” Bear responded. “We’ll take her ourselves.”

“You won’t mind if I tag along then, would you?”

Bear took a step forwards. Shisui took a step back.

It occurred to Naruto that Shisui was frightened of these men, too. 

In front of her, Shisui’s chakra flared. For a long, terrible moment, Naruto was sure Bear was about to attack - his shoulders tensed, and he rocked forwards onto the balls of his feet. But the moment passed, and Bear stepped back once again, and jerked his head, indicating that they should follow. 

Shisui didn’t let Naruto’s hand out of his the whole journey to the Hokage tower. 

For the second time in two days, Naruto was sitting in a chair in front of the Hokage’s desk, fidgeting nervously. She didn’t know what to say to the man, after yesterday. 

The Hokage, it seemed, had no such compunctions. 

“I believe I promised to take you to Ichiraku’s, not too long ago.”

Naruto had forgotten, in the intense weeks that had followed.

“Are we going to Ichiraku’s?” she asked, perking up at the prospect of food. 

“I had thought to it delivered, so we can talk freely in here,” said the Hokage. “You must have a lot on your mind, Naruto-chan.”

Ichiraku’s was delivered shortly, and, with a steaming container of miso ramen wedged between her knees, the lacquer box wrapped in cloth underneath her chair, Naruto began to talk. 

She talked about her team, about how Hound was late more often than not, about Crow’s good-natured teasing and Cat’s seriousness. She talked about how she had felt so very inadequate, facing against the three of them her very first day. 

“But I’m getting better, jiji,” she said, swirling the naruto around her bowl. “Last week I won against Hound, he couldn’t find me all afternoon.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” her jiji replied. “You’re certainly a talented young kunoichi.”

Naruto watched the broth settle in her bowl. She hadn’t seen Hound since yesterday, when he’d left the Hokage’s office, escorted by ANBU. 

“Jiji,” she said, staring down at her hands, “What’s happened to Hound?”

The Hokage’s shoulders slumped. A month ago, Naruto’s not sure she would have spotted it. But she’d grown used to not looking at people’s faces to gauge how they felt - shinobi train to control their expressions, their emotions. They were more free with their bodies. 

“Hound should never have told you,” said the Hokage. “Such actions - defiance of the Hokage’s decrees - have consequences.”

The food sat heavy in Naruto’s stomach, curdling into a lump. Discipline, for shinobi, was harsh. She imagined Hound locked away in some underground cell, not able to see sunlight, breathe fresh air. She imagined chains around his wrists and bars blocking his escape. 

“They call me kitsune,” she whispered. 

“Who? Breaking the decree is a serious offence, Naruto. You must give me their names,” a command, not a request. 

Naruto raised her chin and looked the Hokage in the eye. 

“Everybody. Too many to name - I don’t even know half their names. Two months ago a man grabbed me when I was walking home from the Academy. He called me an onryo, he said I was a monster. Three days after that a girl two years ahead of me said that my red hair made me look like a demon. A week after that, an ANBU called me a kitsune. And after that, a lady at the market accused me of stealing from her stall. She said she didn’t understand why you let me stay here, in the village. The only word Hound said that the others didn’t was kyuubi. I’m a fool for not putting it together sooner.”

Naruto gripped her bowl tightly, knuckles going white. 

“If you wanted to punish everyone who broke the decree, you’d need to round up half the village,” she said, willing her voice not to waver. 

It was moments like these when Naruto understood the fear that the Hokage struck into many shinobi. His chakra roiled and snapped around him, while his face remained impassive. She would never have known he was angry if it weren’t for her sixth sense. 

“Let Hound go,” she said, an order of her own. 

Her jiji sighed, resting his head in the cradle of his folded hands. “From the mouths of babes,” he murmured.

Fight

Hound avoided her, after that. Naruto only saw him on the rare occasions all four of them met. Three days after her conversation with the Hokage, Naruto was added to the roster of the Hokage’s guards - made up of ANBU not currently on missions. 

She spent long hours outside the door of the Hokage’s office, crouched on windowsills outside, seated across from him in the evenings, learning how to play shogi. She was fantastically bad at it, struggling to think more than a few moves ahead. 

It didn’t escape her notice - or her compatriots - that the Hokage treated her differently. If Naruto were part of the normal shinobi forces, she might see the Hokage occasionally at the mission desk, when he was attending, or report directly to him on issues of particular importance. ANBU reported directly and only to the Hokage; they had no ANBU commander, unlike the general shinobi forces. There could be no other loyalties to chains of command, Naruto knew. Hound might act with authority on missions, in training, but she, like every member of the ANBU, was subordinate to the Hokage and the Hokage alone. 

Ostensibly equals, the only thing regulating the internal politics of the ANBU was strength. A thing Naruto struggled to project, let alone have. Most ANBU were decades older than her and twice her size, or more, and she knew she cut a pathetic figure next to them, puffing up her chest like a kitten trying to appear bigger. 

Strength is about perception, more than anything else, Tenzo had told her, sitting at her kitchen table, weeks ago. It’s a perception you will have to work for more than most. You can’t hide behind Crow and I forever. 

They need to SEE your strength. 

Bear was a chunin, like most of the ANBU. He was probably thrice her weight and had over two feet of height on her. 

You cannot afford to acquiesce to these people, do you understand? You are the jinchuriki. You must be subordinate to the Hokage, only. 

She spent the next three weeks choosing the time and place, tracking when and where the hubs of activity clustered underneath Konoha. She would hardly even need to provoke, if she was lucky. 

It was a simple thing, to arrange to return scrolls to their library at the same time as Bear, to pass him in the hallways. After, she lingered, exchanging small talk with Crane, who she knew from the armoury. 

Bear is strong, brutal. The others look up to him, but he’ll struggle with the tight confines of the tunnels, Tenzo had said during one of their training sessions. 

Naruto was used to ducking behind a teammate or melting into the shadows in the face of anger from the ANBU. She imagined the Hokage’s eyes on her, assessing, as she glared at Bear. Under her mask, she bared her teeth, a gesture of fear, of aggression. 

It didn’t take much more than that. 

You can’t be seen to start a fight. Pick someone aggressive, who needs no provocation. There won’t be a shortage. 

Bear slammed into her shoulder as he went past. 

“Kitsune,” he snarled under his breath. 

Naruto had stumbled, but she hadn’t fallen. She spun around to face his retreating back, squared her shoulders, and called out, “What did you just say to me?” 

She tried to lace her voice with the surety, the ice, that Cat and Hound were both so proficient at using. The tone that made her want to bend her head, show them her neck, and obey. 

Bear froze, five paces in front of her. Crane began to back away behind her, and Naruto felt more than saw porcelain masks turn to watch her. 

Slowly, Bear turned to face her. “You heard me,” he spat. 

“I don’t think I heard right,” Naruto said, venomous, cocking her head to the side. Adrenaline was already coursing through her, sharpening her senses. 

Bear glanced around them. He knew as well as she did that to back down now was to lose standing, especially in the face of such a diminutive opponent. Especially to a little girl. 

Bear took a step forward. That was good. 

“I said,” he hissed, voice low and dangerous, “that you’re a kitsune.”

Provoke with words, if you must. But do not be seen to escalate. Don’t step forwards, don’t draw a weapon. He must be the one to start the fight. 

She didn’t move. She didn’t even lean closer. Her hands stayed relaxed at her sides, angled away from her kunai holster. 

Let him think you’re not prepared to fight. Let him think you’re off your guard. 

“You’re mistaken. You’ve been mistaken for a while, actually,” she smiled, eyes upturned, “my name is Fox.”

That’s all it took. 

She saw him tense and draw back his hand precious seconds before he actually struck, making to grab her. She dropped to the ground at the last second, underneath his guard. That made Bear panic, unused to an opponent of her height. 

Still, Naruto didn’t retaliate, not yet. On the floor, she rolled to the left. 

Bear is something of a brawler. He relies on strength. You can take a few hits, so take them. 

Bear’s kick cracked her ribs. His punch made her vision white out. 

He grasped the front of Naruto’s flak jacket and hoisted her in the air. Spitting blood behind her mask, she waited. 

Let him think he’s winning. 

“Little girl shouldn’t challenge her betters,” Bear said, and Naruto could hear the vicious grin in his voice. 

Bear’s arm tensed. He’s going to throw me, she thought, and, quicker than Bear could follow, she whipped her kanzashi out of her hair and stabbed his exposed upper arm. He howled in pain and fury, and dropped her. Naruto kept hold of her kanzashi, wrenching it out of his arm as she fell. 

Landing in a crouch, she was under his guard once more - but this time, she struck upwards, driving her fist into his belly with all the force Hound had taught her to wield. 

Bear staggered backwards, and Naruto pressed her advantage. 

Back him against a wall. Don’t let him outmanoeuvre you - your speed is your greatest strength. 

But Bear was beginning to recover, and parried her kick. Still, he was backed up against the narrow tunnel, nowhere to turn. Naruto twisted, curling her bloody hand into a fist around her kanzashi. It was her turn to parry, now, avoiding his attempts to grab her, immobilise her. 

Naruto gathered her chakra in her palm and thought about the wind. She thought about its speed, about storms with winds so powerful that they uprooted trees and buildings and lifted people off their feet. 

She leaped up, above Bear. In the milliseconds before his arms closed around her, she drove her fist into the side of his head. With satisfaction, she watched him fall, dropped like a stone to the ground. His ears must be ringing, she thought, and with any luck, her burst of chakra had damaged his ear and his sense of balance. 

Bear was knocked out for a few seconds, but the victory was clear. She gripped her bloodied kanzashi tighter and waited for him to rise. 

He listed to the side as he struggled to his feet. She was right, then, about his balance. He couldn’t fight her like this, not at close quarters, with such a significant disadvantage. 

“My name,” she repeated, projecting her voice for all their lookers-on, “is Fox.”

Then she spun on her heel to face the gathered crowd. They parted before her as she stalked forwards. 

She’d won.