Colosseum - Round 1, Group B - Kakashi Hatake vs Shulk

[Kakashi Hatake]

The silver-haired shinobi stood calmly in the dusty arena, the enormous flag at his back. He couldn’t deny how fitting his role was in this act; he had served a ‘kingdom’ in the Land of Fire before most children had learned to tie their shoes. Though truthfully, he didn’t care much which ‘side’ he represented. The Morikage had sent Kakashi to this realm with the order to compete in this tournament. Strictly speaking he was not required to win, though he had every intention to do so.

As the gong sounded he strode forward calmly, hands resting in his trouser pockets. Years of shinobi training had more or less numbed him to any kind of anxiety. “Hey,” the scarecrow called across the arena, “what’s your name?”

His foe, a teenaged boy with unkempt blonde hair, seemed taken aback by the inquiry. “Shulk,” he responded finally, stepping forward from his end of the arena. He hefted an odd-looking metal contraption in his hand.

“Well, Shulk,” the copy ninja replied, his sharingan activating behind his porcelain Anbu mask. “I’m not going to be happy about hurting a child.” He kept his pace as he spoke his lie, ignoring the weapon racks. He had ended the lives of many children in his short lifetime; it made no difference to him.

Shulk chuckled, striding forward confidently. “You ought to be more concerned with a boy beating you. What is the name of the man I’ll be defeating, hm?”

The shinobi smirked, keeping his lazy pace as he approached the faultline that split the arena. “Kakashi,” he answered. He took note of the widget in the boy’s hand; perhaps a sword?

“And do I get to see your face, Kakashi?” the boy responded, spinning his gadget experimentally. His stance told the shinobi that his assumption was likely correct.

“Hadn’t planned on it,” Hatake responded, maintaining his calm tone. The masked shinobi stopped as he neared the trench, his pocketed hands fingering the shurikens he had pre-loaded before the tournament.

The blonde teenager ceased approach in turn, stopping beside a nearby barricade. “You should draw your blade,” the swordsman advised.

The crowd had begun to grow annoyed with the pair’s antics, the dramatic tension slowly turning to boredom. The silver-haired shinobi could hear various spectators taunting the participants, peppering the duo with obscenities. Well, now’s as good a time as any… he thought. As the flaxen-haired lad made to taunt him once more, the Anbu captain pulled his hands from his pockets, slinging a pair of shurikens at his crimson-clad foe.

Shulk had been awaiting such an outburst, quickly bringing the flat of his blade up to block the incoming projectiles. As the pair of hira-shuriken clinked off of the blade and fell uselessly into the trench, his masked foe let loose another volley. The swordsman smirked, this time instead swinging his blade laterally as the missiles neared. Kakashi tumbled sideways behind the cover of a nearby barricade as his shuriken were sent flying back in his direction.

“Shit,” Kakashi grunted, glancing over the barricade at his foe. This kid has talent, he thought. That being said, the shinobi noted that his projectiles had been returned with a good deal less power, falling just short of his hiding place. The shinobi captain would need to be more careful with his techniques; going in for a melee assault seemed foolhardy after watching his foe’s evident skill with a blade.

Shulk seemed to have had the same realization, leveling his blade in Kakashi’s direction. The seven-foot trench served as annoyance to the teen, preventing him from reaching his foe in a timely fashion. He glanced at the weapon rack, spying a stack of javelins. As much as it pained him to use a weapon other than his beloved sword, it didn’t seem like there was any other option for the time being.

Kakashi stood from his cover, drawing a few more shuriken from his belt pouch. Predictably, Shulk had found a missile weapon from the provided racks, now hefting his throwing spears toward the faultline. The copy ninja glanced at his shuriken and back at his foe readying his newfound weaponry. Shaking his head, he pocketed his projectiles. I’ll save him the trouble… he thought, drawing his chokuto. Before the lad could take his throwing stance, the ninja darted for the center and leapt clear over the fault line, bringing down his blade on his surprised foe.

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