One against two wasn't some spur-of-the-moment mistake.
In truth, the three Konoha shinobi—Mizuki, Yamashiro Aoba, and Moonlight Gale—outclassed their opponent. Even Mizuki, often underestimated, wasn't any weaker than the current Suigetsu Hōzuki. Sure, Suigetsu might one day grow into a fearsome shinobi, but right now? He was just a fifteen-year-old boy with an oversized sword and a body that hadn't caught up to his ambition.
No matter how refined his kenjutsu was, his physical limits restrained him.
Mizuki had come prepared. If he dragged Suigetsu into a battle of attrition, supplemented by a specialized potion, he was confident he could grind him down—even in enemy territory. Moonlight Gale's defeat wasn't because of inferiority, but due to an intel failure. Suigetsu's Hydrification Technique was near impossible to anticipate or counter without prior knowledge.
Even more embarrassing was Yamashiro Aoba's misstep. A seasoned interrogator, capsizing like that felt like a slap from fate. Maybe the Hokage's personal guards had become too used to peacetime—unprepared for the raw chaos of a battlefield.
Suigetsu's earlier clash with Moonlight Gale had taken a toll. The red-haired companion who supported him? Injured, unsteady, and running on fumes.
The tide could still turn.
"The rest depends on the potion's effect—and the side effects," Mizuki muttered under his breath, evaluating his body's response. "Strong enough to sustain battle, but not so strong it mutates the body. The duration's a gamble. First human trial on the field… plans never keep up with reality."
He activated a shadow clone. One to shield Moonlight Gale and Aoba. The original charged Suigetsu head-on, no flair, no trickery.
He knew better.
You don't outwit a swordmaster. You outlast them. Overwhelm them.
Suigetsu's kenjutsu was brutally direct—cut the enemy before they cut you. Force your opponent to commit, then cleave them down. Block or die. Sometimes, blades didn't even clash for several exchanges.
"Big bro," Suigetsu sneered, "you're even worse than that sickly swordsman I just folded. Be good—let me chop you down quick. Won't hurt as much."
"Little punks with no manners need a lesson."
Mizuki bit his thumb, slammed a palm to the ground. "Summoning Jutsu!"
Black seals spread in a wide ripple.
"Careful—underwater!" A shout came from behind—Aoba, still hurting but alert.
Too late. Transparent chakra tentacles burst from the green-tinted tide, snaking up Suigetsu's legs. They triggered nerve pain on contact—his body twitched involuntarily.
Mizuki's blade drove straight into his chest.
"Talk big, swing big—die fast."
But Suigetsu didn't cry out. His right hand jerked upward, impaling Mizuki in return.
A red blur closed in behind Mizuki. The injured redhead—still able to move—blocked any chance to dodge.
"What's wrong with you? You knew this was suicide!"
Mizuki twisted, shifting just enough to avoid a fatal blow. The blade skewered his shoulder. Another shuriken from the redhead slashed across his right.
Bleeding, dizzy—Mizuki grinned.
The redhead whispered, "We finally won."
He never finished the thought. Mizuki lunged forward, kunai to throat.
"Extras should know when to leave the stage."
The redhead gurgled, shocked. His body dissolved into the sea.
In the same motion, Mizuki wrenched his body forward, swinging wildly. The shuriken carved through Suigetsu's right arm, severing it clean. Mizuki grabbed the broken blade and rampaged, slashing again and again until Suigetsu's body came apart—
—before a water bullet punched through Mizuki's chest.
Suigetsu reformed. He kicked Mizuki into the tide with a grunt.
"Being liquid used to sound fun," Mizuki thought bitterly, dazed. "Now I just feel like I've become a broken balloon."
A dozen ribs cracked. Organs shifted.
Another sword—another swing—Suigetsu wasn't done.
"Still breathing, old man?" Suigetsu asked. "All that work, all that blood—just to end like this? You'll die today."
Mizuki exhaled heavily. "A ninja talking about fate? That's rich."
Suigetsu scoffed. "What else can you do now? Bleed on me?"
"You wait and see."
Mizuki clenched his teeth. The potion was repairing damage—but he'd lost too much blood. Too weak to see clearly—but strong enough to finish the job.
Suigetsu charged. Mizuki didn't flinch.
But—just as the blade neared—
Suigetsu froze.
"What—what is this?! I can't move!" He panicked. "When did you set up a fuinjutsu field?! And what's this green crap?! I can't see underwater!"
Mizuki smirked. "This is the wisdom of adults."
He pulled out a scroll. Unfurled it. Chakra surged.
"What are you—"
Before Suigetsu could move, a shadow flashed in the fog.
"Another clone?!" Suigetsu's eyes widened. "That redhead was dead—why are you still—"
Slash.
The clone bisected Suigetsu.
Water exploded outward—but Mizuki was already sealing.
"Seal!"
Chains of glowing runes whipped from the scroll, catching the scattered water droplets. In seconds, a chunk of Suigetsu's liquified form was locked away.
"Gotcha." Mizuki coughed, dodging another water bullet.
Suigetsu reformed again—but paler now, sluggish.
"What... what did you do?!"
"I was about to ask you that," Mizuki replied.
Hydration plus partial sealing—what kind of side effects would that even have?
Suigetsu's face twisted. "I'll kill you!"
"Try."
Their blades clashed again. Both were slowing—chakra and stamina running dry.
Suigetsu relied on what was left of his chakra pool. Mizuki was down to raw grit and potion-fueled regeneration.
It became a battle of attrition.
That's when a blur passed through the mist.
Four clean strikes.
Suigetsu fell apart again.
"Dance of the Crescent Moon."
Moonlight Gale.
A shuriken shattered Suigetsu's reforming head. Mizuki slashed again.
"You're late," Mizuki muttered.
"You looked like you were having fun," Gale replied, brushing water off his hair. "Shame about my style."
Aoba hobbled forward, grinning. "Mizuki, I owe you a month's worth of breakfast."
Mizuki was soaked in scabbed blood. "Heh… kid had spirit, I'll give him that."
Gale cracked his neck. "Let's end this."
Mizuki activated the jellyfish again. "Binding Field—open."
With the opponent distracted, Gale and Aoba struck relentlessly.
Suigetsu couldn't recover. Again and again, his form scattered.
"You're looking pale," Mizuki taunted. "Want to come back to Konoha with us for some R&R?"
Suigetsu didn't answer. His body dissolved—melting into the tide.
"Trying to flee?" Aoba roared. "Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
A scream echoed—but the water swallowed it.
"He escaped," Gale said, frustrated.
"No farewell?" Mizuki muttered. He tossed a vial into the water.
Boom.
A scream followed.
"WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!"
Mizuki exhaled, slumping against a rock. "That's for the ribs, you brat."