While Ryugo dueled the jonin in the control room's thunder and Tetsu drowned a mind in silent horror, Ameruyi fought her own war on the dam's southern flank.
The two chunins who broke off to intercept her—'Brawler' and 'Fang'—were a study in contrasts. Brawler was a slab of muscle and scar tissue, his taijutsu style pure, brutal efficiency. Fang was a whisper in the mist, his movements fluid, twin kodachi like extensions of his will.
They found her not at the exit, but waiting for them on a broad service platform overlooking the massive spillway. She had chosen the ground.
The roar of water was deafening here, a constant, physical pressure. It would mask sound, limit verbal coordination for her enemies. For Ameruyi, raised in the silent courtyards of the Takeda clan, it was just another layer of stillness.
"Only one chunin?", Brawler grunted, cracking his knuckles, "Captain Hubei sure was sloppy, sending us both to take care of a child?"
"She's a Takeda", Fang murmured, his voice like rustling silk. He hadn't drawn his blades yet, "See the posture. The grip. She won't run. She'll stand and die prettily. Also, don't break protocol. We cannot allow our true identity be exposed"
Brawler scoffed: "Nonsense. She won't survive anyway"
Ameruyi didn't answer. She drew her katana in one smooth, silent motion. The blade was a sliver of grey in the grey mist.
Brawler charged. No finesse, just overwhelming force, a fist like a maul aimed at her center.
Ameruyi didn't meet it. She shifted her weight a fraction, her katana flashing not to cut, but to guide. The flat of her blade met his wrist, deflecting the blow past her shoulder. At the same time, her free hand shot forward, fingers stiff, and drove into the nerve cluster under his ribs.
She was not considered a genius for no reason. She was excelling in every single field in the academy. No one could match her in combat. She had overwhelming chakra reserves, a talent for the sword allowing to beat her seniors, and more importantly, reflexes that allowed her to dominate any close combat encounter.
THUD.
Brawler grunted, more surprised than pained, but his charge was broken. He stumbled past her.
Fang moved. He didn't attack her directly. He flicked his wrists, and a dozen senbon, glistening with a faint, oily substance, shot not at Ameruyi, but at the wet ground around her feet.
She recognized the tactic—limit mobility, create a hazard zone. She kicked off, leaping backwards onto a pipe railing. The senbon stuck into the concrete where she'd stood, sizzling faintly.
Poison.
Brawler recovered, turning with a roar. He slammed his hands together.
"Doton: Earth-Style Fist!" (C)
A giant, crude fist of compacted earth and rock erupted from the platform at his feet, shooting towards Ameruyi on the railing. A wide, clumsy technique, but in the confined space, hard to avoid. A signature jutsu of Tanigakure.
Ameruyi didn't try to avoid it. She dropped straight down, letting the earthen fist pass overhead, and as she fell, she thrust her katana into the platform's edge, using it as a pivot to swing her body underneath the platform in a dizzying arc.
She emerged on the other side, behind Brawler. Her katana was already in motion.
Silent Rain Kenjutsu: Third Form – Returning Tide (B)
A single, devastating upward diagonal slash, from hip to opposite shoulder. It was not a flashy technique. It was a butcher's cut, honed by generations of Takeda warriors for killing armored samurai.
Brawler, sensing the danger, began to turn, his own chakra flaring for a replacement.
He was too slow.
The dark grey blade, powered by Ameruyi's disciplined strength and perfect leverage, cleaved through his flak jacket, ribs, and heart with a terrible, wet crunch.
Brawler's eyes bulged. He took one half-step, then collapsed like a felled tree, the roar of the spillway swallowing his final gasp.
One down.
Ameruyi landed lightly, her blade dripping. She faced Fang, who had not moved to help his partner. He watched her, his head tilted.
"Efficient", Fang said, his voice still calm, "A textbook Takeda kill. No wasted motion. No emotion. You are well-trained"
He finally drew his kodachi. The short blades were a dull, non-reflective black.
"But your clan's art is one of duality. Silence and storm. From what I have seen, you have yet to master the storm. Plus, you revealed all your cards right here. A rookie mistake", he mused
Ameruyi frowned, this single clash had expended her stamina and chakra pool. More importantly, she could feel the danger from him.
He didn't charge. He began to weave hand seals with one hand while the other held a kodachi ready. They were fast, unfamiliar seals—Earth Release, but with a twisting, fluid finish.
"Dotuki Clan Hidden Art", he intoned, "Kokuen no Mai (Dance of the Black Smoke) (B)!"
He didn't attack her. He blew out a breath, and from his mouth poured not earth, but a thick, granular black fog. It spread with alarming speed, heavy and cloying, smelling of burnt clay and ozone. It wasn't a choking smoke; it was a mist of incredibly fine, mineral-dense particles.
Ameruyi retreated, but the fog was everywhere, clinging to her clothes, her skin, her blade. It coated the world in a dusky twilight, reducing visibility to mere feet. Her sharp senses, usually her greatest asset, were muffled. She couldn't hear Fang's footsteps over the dam's roar and the strange, whispering rustle of the settling grains.
"You see", Fang's voice echoed from multiple directions within the fog, a genjutsu-like effect created by the particulate, "the Dotuki are not just earth users. We are alchemists of the soil. This 'Grain Fog' is inert. Harmless. Until…"
A spark of orange light flared deep within the black mist.
Ameruyi's eyes widened. She should have retreated the moment she heard the Dotuki name.
She threw herself into a frantic dodge, but the fog was on her, in her clothes, her hair. It was a conductor waiting for a catalyst.
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!" (Great Fireball Technique) (C)
The very enemy her clan warned her about, a hard counter of close combat specialists, the Dotuki.
The fireball that erupted within the fog was not the usual roaring sphere. It was an instantaneous, catastrophic detonation.
The inflammable grains ignited all at once.
WHOOMF!
A concussive wave of heat and force, contained and amplified by the dam's architecture, erupted across the platform. There was no flame to see, just a blinding, white-hot expansion that superheated the air.
Ameruyi's world became pain.
Her carefully controlled breath seared her lungs. The fog grains on her uniform ignited, becoming miniature coals. Her hair, coated in the dust, crisped. The wave of heat slapped her with the force of a physical blow, throwing her back against a metal conduit with a sickening clang.
She slumped to the ground, her body screaming.
Her skin was a tapestry of instant, savage burns.
Her vision swam, her ears ringing.
The stench of her own burnt flesh filled her nose.
She tried to push herself up, but her arms trembled violently, refusing to obey. The pain made her wish for death. Her katana lay a few feet away, its blade smeared with soot.
The black fog had been consumed, leaving acrid smoke and the smell of a forge.
Fang emerged from the haze, untouched, his kodachi still in hand. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable behind his mask.
"You might have stood a chance if you focused on me instead of my partner...A shame. You should never underestimate your enemies", he said quietly, almost sadly, "The truth is fire. The truth is pain"
He moved to finish her, his kodachi rising for a precise, merciful kill to the base of the skull.
Then he froze. His head snapped up, his sensor abilities—honed by his clan's earth affinity—flaring.
"Captain Hubei's signature...It died out...It can't be possible", he muttered
Ameruyi, knowing she would die soon, smirked: "Ah...I knew it...I might be unworthy, but at least I will be avenged. Prepare yourself, Dotuki clansman. You will know a fate worse than death itself"
The pain was too great. She fainted.
His eyes, visible above his mask, flickered with shock and then cold calculation. The plan had fractured.
Priorities shifted instantly. A live Takeda heir, a noble clan princess, was intelligence. A bargaining chip.
"A change of plans, little heir," he muttered. "Your captain has made things… interesting."
With a last glance towards the control room where Ryugo was staggering from his victory, the Dotuki chunin melted into the lingering smoke and the ever-present mist of the dam, a ghost carrying his prize into the depths of the gorge. His mission was a failure, but he would not return empty-handed.
On the platform, only the roar of water and the slowly cooling body of the Brawler remained, the spilled blood already thinning in the perpetual damp. Ameruyi Takeda was gone.