Naruto : Infinite Buff!

Aoki exhaled slowly, assessing the battlefield.

"...He's dismantling us."

Akira coughed blood, his hands trembling from the impact. "H-he's just—lucky—"

"No." Aoki's gaze remained fixed on the mist, where Amatsu's presence flickered in and out, a phantom dancing between the threads of their strategies.

"He's Strong!."

---

A suffocating mist clung to the forest, thick with dampness and the scent of blood. The air was heavy, saturated with moisture, making every breath feel sluggish. Droplets of condensation slid down the leaves, gathering before dripping onto the uneven, mud-slick ground. The mist curled through the trees like a living thing, distorting shapes, swallowing sounds, and reducing visibility to mere shadows in the gloom.

Amatsu crouched in the shadows, motionless. His dark eyes were devoid of emotion—only cold calculation remained. He was the mist, the darkness, the unseen predator lurking in the depths. Every breath, every step, every subtle shift of his enemies was recorded, dissected, and analyzed.

They did not know it yet, but the battle was already in his control.

High above, three figures moved cautiously through the trees. Their sharp eyes scanned the mist.

Aoki, He exhaled slowly, his voice low but steady. "He's close. Stay sharp."

Below him, Akira grinned, excitement lighting up his features. He didn't wait. His body flickered, vanishing into the mist, electricity crackling at his fingertips, ready to unleash chaos.

"Lightning Release: Thunder Shockwave!"

A bolt of electricity surged into the mist, carving through the fog with a sharp crackle. The light illuminated the shadows for a brief moment, but there was nothing. The attack struck empty ground, the energy fizzing out against the mud.

Akira's grin faltered.

From the shadows, Amatsu watched. He did not move, did not react. He had already anticipated the attack, shifting his position moments before it came. The lightning had grazed the air where he once stood, leaving only the faintest scorch marks behind.

Akira growled, frustrated. "Fuck! Where is he?"

"Stop wasting chakra," Akihiko snapped, his eyes narrowing. "You're playing into his hands."

But it was too late. Amatsu had already begun.

The first pebble struck the ground to Akihiko's left. A soft, insignificant sound, but enough to draw his attention. His head snapped toward it, eyes narrowing into the mist.

"Left!" he called out, his voice cutting through the rain.

Akira shifted immediately, his body tense, but there was nothing. Just shadows and fog.

"...Nothing there," Akira muttered, his voice quieter now, less certain.

Another sound. This time, to Akira's right. The faint rustle of leaves, a subtle shift in the air. His body flickered, moving toward the noise, but again, there was nothing. Just the rain, the mist, and the silence.

"Ugh, what the hell is this bullshit?" he spat, his frustration cutting through the rain, sharp and harsh. His arrogance cracked, anger bubbling to the surface. "Come out and fight me, coward!"

Above them, Aoki watched without a word. His wild black hair clung to his face, his expression unreadable.

"This isn't some random attack," Aoki said, his voice steady and measured. "He's playing us like fools. Don't let him get inside your head."

Akihiko swallowed hard, the weight of Aoki's words sinking in. "Yeah, I get it. We need to stick together."

"Exactly," Aoki replied, his eyes scanning the mist. "Stay sharp. He's smarter than we thought."

But Akira was already gone.

Akira moved through the mist like a predator. His impatience burned hotter than his brother's warnings. He wasn't going to wait for some shadow to strike first. He'd find Amatsu himself.

And that was exactly what Amatsu had counted on.

Akira's body flickered again, a blur of motion, his chakra surging as his fingers formed another seal.

"Lightning Release: Thunder Palm!"

Electricity crackled in his hand, ready to strike at the first hint of movement. His breaths came faster now, his grin tightening. The mist around him wavered, the faintest ripple catching his attention.

There.

He lunged forward, his palm striking through the fog with a sharp crackle. The lightning hissed, cutting through the shifting shadows.

And hit nothing.

"Wha—?" Akira's eyes widened, but it was too late.

Amatsu's kunai struck first.

He appeared from the shadows of mist like a ghost, his movements silent, precise. The blade sliced cleanly behind Akira's knee, severing the tendon in a single, ruthless motion.

Akira's body buckled, his leg giving out beneath him. He stumbled, his chakra flickering as pain shot through his body.

The world spun as Amatsu moved with lethal precision, the kunai glinting in the dim light.

The blade buried deep into Akira's throat.

Blood gushed from the wound, a vivid scarlet that mixed with the rain pattering down, creating a grotesque tableau. Akira's body convulsed, a desperate gasp escaping his lips, eyes wide with shock, fear, and disbelief. For a fleeting moment, he met Amatsu's gaze—a silent acknowledgment of his fate.

Amatsu didn't blink. He didn't hesitate.

He twisted the blade once, clean and efficient, ensuring the finality of the act. The movement was almost surgical in its execution, devoid of any emotion.

With a practiced flick, he released the body. Akira crumpled to the ground, lifeless, the light in his eyes fading to nothing.

Blood pooled around the corpse, dark and steaming in the cold rain, a stark contrast to the vibrant red of life that had just been extinguished.

Amatsu moved like a wraith, slipping between the trees, always just out of sight. The rain fell harder, masking his presence further. He was a ghost in the storm, manipulating the environment with every step, a strategist unseen.

The remaining two were on edge, every rustle amplifying their anxiety. The mist thickened around them, distorting their vision into a haze of uncertainty.

"Damn... I feel so drained," Akihiko muttered, furrowing his brow, scanning the shifting shadows that danced at the edges of his perception.

Aoki's lips thinned, his expression a mask of calm. "He's not really fighting us. He's culling us."

The weight of those words hung heavy in the air. They shifted their stances, tension palpable. Amatsu was not merely a fighter; he was a predator, using the terrain to wear them down, forcing them to self-destruct.

Akihiko glanced around, shadows flanking him, taunting. Each time he felt the urge to strike, the shadows seemed to shift, drawing him deeper into a trap of his own making.

Then it happened.

A faint ripple in the mist, and suddenly, Amatsu was there again—a blur of lethal intent. He struck low, his kunai aimed at Akihiko's eyes. The moment was a flash, too quick to process.

"Ahhh! My eyes!" Akihiko screamed, agony lacing his voice as Amatsu's fingers plunged into the soft flesh around his sockets. The kunai slashed through skin, tearing into delicate tissue, gouging out his eyes in a brutal, merciless motion.

His hands flew to his face, but it was too late. Blood poured from the gaping wounds, flooding down his cheeks and mingling with the rain. "What the hell?! I can't see! I can't see!" Panic flooded his voice, raw terror clawing at his throat as darkness swallowed him whole.

"Did he really master that Silent Killing technique?! This is insane!" he thought, his world collapsing into an abyss of pain and confusion. As he staggered back, the horror of his new reality set in—he was blind, and the predator was infront of him!

Aoki's eyes widened, heart racing. "Akihiko!"

Akihiko shouted in frustration, but recognition dawned—he had to hold his ground to protect what remained.

Amatsu listened to Akihiko's cries, a cold sense of purpose settling over him. Mercy had no place here. With swift precision, he moved in, his kunai aimed for the exposed throat of the blinded ninja.

"Please... no!" Akihiko begged, voice cracking under the weight of fear.

But it was too late.

The blade found its mark, silencing his pleas forever. Blood sprayed as Amatsu twisted the knife, ensuring a quick death. Akihiko's body collapsed, lifeless, joining his fallen comrade in the mud.

One swift motion. One less obstacle.

---

Aoki stood alone now, the realization of his comrades' fates crashing over him like the relentless rain. Composure faltered, heart racing with a mix of fear and fury.

"Akihiko! Akira!" he shouted, desperation creeping into his voice, the sound swallowed by the mist. The fog thickened around him, shadows dancing, taunting him.

"Where are you?!" Aoki stammered, panic creeping into his tone. "This isn't funny! Come on, guys, stop messing around!"

Silence answered him, heavy and oppressive. The dread settled deeper in his gut. "What the hell is going on? Where are you two?" His voice trembled.

"Akihiko! Akira! Answer me!" he yelled again, his heart pounding as the shadows seemed to close in. "Please, don't leave me hanging like this! We said we'd stick together!"

Aoki's breath hitched, and he clenched his fists, fighting against the rising tide of despair. "You can't be dead! You're just hiding, right? This isn't a game anymore!"

But deep down, a nagging fear whispered the truth he didn't want to accept.

Amatsu watching with silence, his presence lingering like a predator stalking its prey.

Aoki felt dread settle in his chest as he scanned the mist, now the last shinobi standing. His chakra was low, body trembling with exhaustion.

"My chakra's almost gone... this can't be happening," he muttered, panic seeping into his thoughts.

A faint rustle caught his attention.

"Show yourself!" Aoki shouted, trying to sound authoritative, but his voice cracked, betraying the fear underneath. "I know you're out there!"

The mist shifted, dark and heavy, and then Amatsu emerged, his silhouette cutting through the fog like a blade. He stood cold and expressionless, kunai glinting in the dim light.

Aoki's heart raced. "Why are you just standing there? Come on, let's finish this!" His bravado was faltering, desperation clawing at his throat. "You think you can scare me? I won't back down!"

But Amatsu said nothing, simply watching with an unnerving calm. Then, without warning, he vanished back into the mist, leaving only an echo of his presence behind.

"Hey! Where did you go?!" Aoki shouted, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "You think you can just run away?"

Driven by instinct, Aoki charged forward, determined to find Amatsu and end this. "I'm not afraid of you!" he yelled, lunging into the fog, his senses heightened. "Show yourself, coward!"

In one swift motion amatsu creating wire trap.

Unbeknownst to him, Amatsu was setting a trap, waiting in the shadows, his expression unreadable, biding his time as Aoki pursued him blindly.

With a flick of his wrist, the wire shot forward, ensnaring Aoki's arms and yanking him off balance. The sharp metal cut into his skin, pain jolting through him as Amatsu tightened the trap.

"W-What the hell?!" Aoki gasped, panic surging through him as he struggled against the wire, but it tightened further, immobilizing him. "No! Let me go! I can't—"

The boy moved closer, a specter of death, his demeanor cold and unyielding. Aoki's heart raced, consumed by fear. "You're just a kid! You can't do this!"

Amatsu drew a razor-sharp wire, the glint of it catching the dim light as he positioned it around Aoki's neck. The tension was palpable, every breath a reminder of the impending doom.

"Please, don't! I—I'll do anything!" Aoki begged, voice trembling as desperation clawed at him. "You don't have to—"

Without a word, Amatsu pulled the wire tight, severing flesh and bone in an instant. Aoki's eyes widened in shock, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as his head fell, blood spraying in a gruesome arc, splattering against the ground like a macabre painting.

His body crumpled to the earth, lifeless, transformed into a grotesque display of chopped meat, blood pooling around him, joining his comrades in the cold embrace of death.

The rain of blood continued to fall, washing over the scene, a cruel cleansing. The battlefield lay silent now, the bodies of the fallen soaked in blood and rain, their fates sealed in brutality.

He stood above them, breathing steady, his expression indifferent. He surveyed the area, methodical in his approach, ensuring no threats remained. With cold precision, he began to loot their supplies—weapons, scrolls, and anything he could find. Nothing would go to waste.

---

Amatsu stood amidst the chaos, a maestro in a symphony of death. Each movement he made was a note, precise and deliberate, conducting the dark opera unfolding around him.

His foes, once filled with bravado, believed themselves the stars of this tragic play, the heroes of their own narrative. Yet, like marionettes drawn into a dance, they had unwittingly stepped onto a stage where Amatsu was the unseen puppeteer, pulling the strings with an elegance that belied the brutality of his intent.

With each swift strike, he wove a tapestry of despair, the blood of his enemies staining the earth like ink on parchment, their cries harmonizing with the rhythmic patter of rain. They had thought themselves warriors in a grand arena, but in truth, they were mere players in his dark orchestration, their fates sealed by the very strings he had meticulously crafted.

Now, as the last echoes of their struggle faded into silence, the stage lay bare, littered with the remnants of their dreams and aspirations. Amatsu, the solitary conductor, surveyed his work—an unsettling masterpiece of carnage, a ballet of shadows and whispers, where he alone remained, the true architect of their demise.

And in that somber moment, the world held its breath, bearing witness to the haunting beauty of the fallen, as the curtain fell on this act of brutality and grace, leaving only the rain to dance upon their graves.

---

As he finished.

Amatsu's gaze shifted toward the shadows of the trees.

There.

Hidden under the shelter of a large tree, sat Higanbana. Her clothes were drenched, but her Crimson eyes glowed with newfound determination.

Her fingers trembled as she clutched a scroll tightly, the markings on it glowing faintly with potential.

Amatsu watched her in silence, She had finally grasped the essence of chakra control.