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

[Kakashi Hatake]

Kakashi had no intention of allowing his combatant to make good on his words. As the boy stood, hunched over and recovering from the last blow, the copy ninja took the opportunity to dash forward and aim a knee into the boy’s face. Shulk raised his sword reflexively in an attempt to stall the attack, though his actions were in vain. Bone clacked against bone as the lad’s bell was rung. The silver-haired shinobi watched as his foe fell backward, landing hard in a seated position.

Spying the injured ninja making haste to layer on more damage, Shulk quickly raised the Monado, “I won’t lose!” He asserted, the blade glowing a vibrant yellow as the familiar hexagonal bulwark materialized before him.

Kakashi watched as the boy laboriously lifted himself from the dirt, propping himself up on his blood-red blade. Not keen on allowing his foe to recoup, the masked warrior quickly closed the distance, dashing toward his opposition. The blonde swordsman’s eyes widened as Kakashi stopped abruptly, only to spring into the air once more.

“That won’t work twice,” Shulk remarked confidently. The crimson-clad combatant spun in place, redirecting his barrier upward as he readied his sword to parry.

The airborne shinobi smirked, his sharingan focusing on the boy’s movements even as he tumbled through the air. His hands once more found their payload in the pouches that hung from his belt, withdrawing a fair few shuriken and lobbing them half-heartedly at the boy’s barrier. The projectiles clinked uselessly against the sturdy barrier, his confident combatant readying for the incoming finisher. It would not come, however. Kakashi instead took time to concentrate chakra in his heals, allowed himself to touch down for a brief moment before dashing with alarming speed toward the surprised adolescent. He had little time to realize his mistake as the ninja’s gloved fist met his face with a soft thud.

The crowd roared as the boy was tossed sideways, his shield fading. Seems like all of that competing with Guy wasn’t for nothing, the scarecrow mused, watching as the boy slumped sloppily to the ground. His combatant remained still, lying in a crumpled heap in the dirt. Kakashi turned to face the crowd, the raucous fans demanding bloodshed. Though the copy ninja was no stranger to spilling blood, he had no desire to harm an already defeated foe. Without a mission or a village to defend, he would simply be killing a child for entertainment. Hatake would not give them their gore, turning on his heel and making his way back to his end of the arena. Though the crowd began to boo and hurl insults (as well as a fair bit of trash which bounced off off of some invisible barrier), the silver-haired shinobi ignored the jeers.

“A win’s a win,” Kakashi muttered to himself, nearing the dividing trench. As if in response, the crowd suddenly resumed their cheers, applause meeting the Anbu captain’s ears.

“This isn’t over!”

The copy ninja spun around in time to see his battered foe dashing toward him, anger clouding his blue eyes. He clutched his weapon limply, the blade dragging in the dirt as the boy approached. With the roaring of bloodthirsty spectators spurring him on, his legs found the strength to push his battered body for one last charge.

The scarecrow paused for a moment, watching as Shulk pursued unsteadily. The ninja’s apparent disinterest whipped the lad into a froth, arms finding just enough strength to lift the business end of his blade level with the gut of his wounded foe. With a final battle cry his lunged forward, intending to end his opponent. Kakashi dropped his stance low as the boy approached, dipping to the left. The blade slid past its target, Shulk’s momentum carrying him farther than intended. The copy ninja watched as the boy tumbled into the ditch, landing with a dull thud.

“Relent,” Kakashi called down to the boy. He held his saber aloft, tip downward, poised to drop the blade on his defeated opponent.

Shulk rolled onto his stomach, turning his gaze skyward. Equal amounts frustration and pain were present upon his visage as his hand groped for his blade, just out of reach. His brow furrowed as he glared up at Kakashi, the shinobi’s sword hovering overhead like a literal guillotine. Turning his gaze from his foe he raised a hand, dropping it just as quickly.

The ninja stared for a long moment at the swordsman. He was impressed with the boy’s determination, putting up an excellent fight despite his apparent lack of conditioning. Even after enduring a barrage of strikes from Kakashi’s (admittedly imperfect) Strong Fist style, he had stood to oppose his opponent. In that moment, holding the boy’s life in his hands, he was reminded of Obito. The Uchiha’s indomitable spirit, it seemed, had a kin within this boy.

Without a word, the shinobi sheathed his sword, leaping over the fault and making his way toward the exit.