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polaristranslations · 4 years ago

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Chapter 3 - The First Generation Maniwa Chouchou

This is a story from when this country was a warring country, when times were troubled times.

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No one, including Maniwa Chouchou himself, thought that the ninja would ever be elected as one of the Twelve Chiefs of the Maniwa Ninja Corps. It wasn't that he was incapable, nor was it that he didn't have a following—but there was one quality that Maniwa Chouchou decisively lacked as a shinobi.

And that quality was his physique.

He was—a huge, hulking man that everyone looked up to.

He was well over seven shaku tall, reaching almost eight shaku, with legs that were conspicuously long and arms that were much longer than the accepted norms.

Even from a distance of twenty jou away, Chouchou could easily be recognized, and even in a crowd of two thousand people, Chouchou could easily be recognized.

In a manner almost too weird to be true—

His body was large.

If he had been a samurai, he might have attained greatness.

In fact, there was not a single member of the Maniwa Ninja Corps that could match Chouchou in a simple comparison of strength—but ninja were not beings that simply compared their strength.

Rather, a ninja was someone who hid. Someone who lurked in the shadows.

Someone who concealed themselves.

On the battlefield, his huge body—it could be a weakness and could not become a weapon.

"Well, some things you just can't do anything about—I just have to resign myself to this fate. And it's not like I can hate this body that my parents gave me. Being sturdy is my only saving grace, so I'll carry out my tasks as an underling as best as I can,"

he would say.

As such, he was not so desperate about his circumstances—about his disadvantage.

Maniwa Chouchou was a pleasant person.

For that reason, there were quite a lot of people that lamented the fact that he lacked the qualifications to become one of the Twelve Chiefs from the start—and while the one who called herself the observer of the Maniwa Village, Maniwa Kyouken, wouldn't say she lamented it, she was also among those that felt it was unfortunate.

So when she was assigned an unusually active mission by the village's current head, Maniwa Houou, she decided to take Maniwa Chouchou along with her, even though she could have accomplished it on her own—and doing so may have been a manifestation of those feelings of her.

As a result.

That action of Kyouken's, which was almost a flight of fancy, would drastically change the fate of Maniwa Chouchou, but—

◇　　　◇

At a late hour.

Two shadows were running through the craggy mountains—no, they were moving at such speed that their shadows couldn't even be seen.

In the first place, they weren't even running on the ground.

What they were running on—were the overgrown trees.

Without breaking a single branch or scattering a single leaf—as if they were one with nature, cutting through only the wind—the two of them ran.

Maniwa Kyouken and Maniwa Chouchou.

Maniwa Kyouken—a shinobi looked like a young girl with tattoos all over her body, but in reality, she was the observer of the Maniwa village, and, in a sense, she was a veteran authority with perhaps even more influence than the head, Maniwa Houou, himself.

Maniwa Chouchou—who'd been placed in unfortunate circumstances due to his overly long arms, overly long legs, overly long torso, and overly long body—that body that was much too big for him.

The two of them—were running in lockstep.

Of course, with the small Kyouken and the gigantic Chouchou, their paces were entirely different—to be precise, there was more than three times the difference between the two, and yet Kyouken made it seem as if that difference didn't exist—you could say it was, perhaps, a difference in experience.

They...

Were returning—from the task they'd just completed.

"...Tch! Ah, damn it, those guys sure are persistent—!"

In a manner which was unusual for her, Kyouken grumbled as she looked behind her.

Of course, that didn't mean she physically turned.

She simply—searched for presences to her rear.

"How far do they plan on following us, jeez."

"S-sorry, Kyouken-san, because of me—"

Chouchou began to speak in an embarrassed tone—of course, neither of them slowed their pace as they talked. If anything—they were speeding up even more.

"—Things became like this."

"Ha—"

Kyouken laughed. She—forced a laugh.

As if ashamed of herself for grumbling.

"—It's not your fault at all. We just happened to be unlucky this time—"

Their task.

At least for the task itself—they'd succeeded.

However, that was just a matter of course—when it was Kyouken herself that went out to do it, there was no way the task couldn't be successfully completed.

She possessed the ability to accomplish any task on her own. The term "being a match for a thousand" may as well have been made for her. It was almost as if she needed no training or practice—as if the longer she lived, the stronger she became. That was the kind of ninja that Maniwa Kyouken was.

Even now, it was not out of necessity that Kyouken was accompanying Chouchou, but out of concern for him, who would be ruminating on his own disadvantages even more as a result of the current election of the Twelve Chiefs—and Chouchou himself knew that very well.

Though he thought it was an unnecessary concern.

However, more than the concern himself, it was the fact that it was unnecessary—that made him happy.

He had nothing but gratitude towards Kyouken, who was going out of her way to meddle like this.

—However...

—Someone like me... is really...

The problem had arisen just after they had completed their mission—in a completely unrelated location, by chance, by sheer coincidence—Kyouken and Chouchou had been discovered by shinobi from their rival force, the Aioi Ninja Corps.

—No.

—It wasn't by chance—or by coincidence.

And it wasn't that they had been unlucky, either—and Chouchou knew that very well.

There was but one reason they'd been discovered—and it was Chouchou's gigantic body.

Kyouken's (current) small stature, perfect for reconnaissance, would have never been discovered—and even if she had been, it would have been nearly impossible to tell from appearances alone that she could possibly be a shinobi from the Maniwa Ninja Corps.

But it was different for Chouchou.

Chouchou had an unorthodox appearance that made others suspect who he was, just from a single glance—and if he was looked at with such suspicion, it wouldn't be long before his identity was revealed.

They didn't have the option to drive back the enemy.

Choosing that option would end up interfering with the mission they'd just completed—they needed to get as far away from the scene as possible, and they couldn't leave even a trace of combat. Even though they had always been enemies, now was not the time to be fighting with the Aioi Ninja Corps.

But, of course, the other side didn't know that.

If anything, the more they tried to avoid conflict, the more the Aioi Ninja Corps would try to press further.

Hence—their current situation.

"Ten people, huh? It's even more than before. They're multiplying like rats. Ahaha, maybe they're actually popping out some kids?—"

This time, in a manner that was more usual for her, she mixed in a joke—but even so, Kyouken's expression showed signs of impatience.

"If only I could kill all ten of them in an instant—but I guess that's impossible. Chouchou-chan. Maybe you can do it with your Maniwa kenpou?"

"With my kenpou?"

Chouchou responded.

"My kenpou isn't really designed for one-on-many situations—and even then, in this situation, I don't know if I can kill even one person."

"Ah, is that so."

Kyouken didn't seem too discouraged.

It was as if she were saying, there was no point in despairing even further in this situation—but in other words, it meant that they'd been cornered by that much.

"It doesn't seem like there are any kunoichi among the enemies, either—oh dear, oh dear. Don't tell me your Kyouken-nee-san is gonna be retired from her post here? What a surprise."

Laughing self-deprecatingly, Maniwa Kyouken ended up breaking one of the branches she stepped on.

Chouchou saw it happen.

The situation was bad—bad enough that Kyouken would break a branch.

—No—that wasn't it.

—Actually, it shouldn't have been that bad.

While the situation was pretty bad—it wasn't at its worst.

"—Well, even so, I still gotta keep you alive somehow, Chouchou-chan. Don't worry, if it comes to it then I'll be the one to hold them back. If the only thing you find is my corpse, I'm sure you can cover it up somehow—"

"Kyouken-san, please don't say that!"

Chouchou.

Resolved himself—and spoke.

Quietly, but affectionately.

"A shinobi as good as you, killing yourself to let me live—to let an underling like me live? That's not what a ninja should be doing."

"...Chouchou-chan."

"Why aren't you ordering me to die right here? Without me here, whether there were ten pursuers or a hundred of them, you would be able to annihilate them in an instant."

It wasn't a heartless choice.

If anything—it was the natural decision to make, considering the Maniwa village.

Without even needing to order Chouchou to die, and without even considering Chouchou's own will, it would've been just as fine for Kyouken to cut off his head with her own hands.

He didn't want to be underestimated.

Even if he didn't have the qualifications to be one of the Twelve Chiefs—even if he was only half as good as any ninja—he still had the resolve to die.

"...Don't tell me to kill a comrade of mine,"

she said.

Maniwa Kyouken—spoke in a sulking tone, for some reason.

It was the first time she had shown—or, at least, the first time Chouchou had seen—behavior befitting her young girl's body.

But it was just for an instant.

Maniwa Kyouken soon returned to her usual sarcastic expression as an observer of the Maniwa village and said, "But it's true, you make a fair point."

She continued.

"In that case, let's do this. Chouchou-chan—change of plans. We'll split off into two. I'll get the pursuers to follow me, and you take the looooong way round back to the village."

"Eh—but that doesn't give you any less of a burden. It just makes me safer. Even though there's no meaning to me surviving in this situation."

"There is a meaning. It'll make me feel good when fighting."

Kyouken replied clearly.

"I'm the village's observer. When it comes to the Maniwa village, nothing about it will feel like a burden to me—and it won't mean that you'd be completely safe, either. If I end up letting even one of our pursuers escape—then you're gonna have to be the one to fight them. In an instant—faster than anyone else."

Faster than anyone else.

Those words—lingered in Chouchou's mind, strangely enough.

But, in any case, there was no time to argue back—in the first place, Chouchou had no intention of going against Kyouken's words.

If he had an order, he'd have to obey it.

In fact, Chouchou was so happy about the change in strategy that prioritized his own safety—that he was almost brought to tears.

—Even though...

—Even though I thought my tears had dried up long ago.

Though he thought there was no shinobi in the Maniwa Ninja Corps that would shed tears other than "Tearful Kuizame".

He was surprised to find such humanity in himself—and meanwhile, without even needing to agree.

Maniwa Chouchou moved his gigantic body—and broke away from Maniwa Kyouken's movements with the speed of a strong gale.

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Maniwa kenpou.

In the Maniwa village, a settlement of shinobi, there were few people who mastered this martial art, which could even be considered a first-class school of traditional art. And Maniwa Chouchou worked as the assistant instructor of it.

No matter how much he trained his ninjutsu, he knew he would never be able to surpass the others. In that case, he aimed to improve his skills by making the most of his physique.

It was a good fit.

Now, he possessed the ability to be considered one of the best kenpou practitioners in Japan—you could even say that he was good enough to contend with a ninjutsu user.

It certainly wasn't suited for one-on-many situations.

However—if it were one-on-one, he'd probably be able to show off some of his ability.

He had no intention of losing to anyone one-on-one.

However, it was rare for a shinobi to face a situation in which they'd be fighting an enemy one-on-one—no, rather. It could even be called a disgrace for a shinobi to face a situation in which they'd fight an enemy one-on-one.

Cutting their way through many at a time.

Or perhaps, overwhelming many at a time.

That was the proper practice of a shinobi.

Furthermore—in the first place, a shinobi must have already made some kind of mistake if they find themselves in a situation where they must face an enemy.

A perfect shinobi—would never have their hostility exposed, never have their attacks noticed, and never even make their victims realize that they'd been killed.

That's how it was.

That's how it should be.

For example, the most eccentric of the Maniwa Ninja Corps—Maniwa Shirasagi, the most eccentric of the eccentric, with no one, not even Houou and Kyouken, understanding him at all—always stood on the front lines, concealing nothing and exposing everything while in combat, and yet the true nature of his ninpou was still unknown.

Although, as it was, that sort of personality wasn't the sort that would necessarily get chosen as a chief—

—If I'm able to return to the village safely.

—I'll need to think a little bit about my future.

No, not just a little. A lot.

He was going to think a lot.

About half an hour since he'd parted ways with Kyouken—it was those thoughts that ran through Maniwa Chouchou's head as he continued to run without so much as a pause to catch his breath.

If things had gone according to plan, then Kyouken should have already annihilated the Aioi Ninja Corps pursuers by now—at the very least, there was no one coming after Chouchou.

Of course, he couldn't slow down—but for now, perhaps he could feel a bit of ease.

But even so.

Maniwa Chouchou was not the sort of happy-go-lucky man that he could shake off his feelings of regret or remorse.

Surviving after being covered for by a respected leader of the village—that was shameful for a ninja.

Even though he had pledged to be an underling for life.

In the end—he couldn't do even that.

If he had been the subordinate of Kuizame, then it would not have been strange if he'd been killed on the spot for "disturbing the peace and order".

He wasn't just not suited to be a chief, but not suited to be a ninja at all. Well, that was something he knew as soon as he'd grown up with such a gigantic body—something he knew very well—something he knew very very well—and that's why.

The only thing he regretted now was that he did not kill himself when his height grew past six shaku—

"...Anyway, let's just think about getting back to the village. Even if I don't do anything myself, I'm sure Houou-sama will deal with me in some way, so all I can do is resign myself to that."

Right now, I don't even have the right to die.

Then, in that case—I'll carry out my work as an underling for the rest of my life.

As he thought such thoughts, Chouchou kept on running—and then.

And then, all of a sudden, his feet stopped.

"............?"

There was no way he'd stopped because he was tired.

If anything, he was a man with several times the physical strength of an ordinary shinobi. As evidence, despite running for so long, he was not the slightest bit out of breath.

But.

He stopped, because—he felt a strange presence.

"...Oh yeah. This area was an animal trail, wasn't it. Kyouken-san did say that bears might appear around here—"

He carefully looked over his surroundings—and it seemed that Chouchou decided that the presence he felt seemed to have come from an animal.

Of course, he wasn't going to let his guard down just because it was an animal—this deep in the mountains, animals were perhaps even more trouble than the pursuers, and something that he should exercise great caution against. But even so, he was relieved.

And, in the moment he felt relieved.

"............!"

He heard—a sound.

No.

There were probably no more than ten people, Maniwa Chouchou included, that could even recognize that as a sound.

On your own.

It would only be after you made that same sound from your own body thousands, millions, billions, trillions of times—that you'd be able to recognize that as a sound.

He didn't spend any time thinking.

Chouchou's legs, naturally, turned in the direction of the sound—it couldn't be far.

His heart pounding once again—Maniwa Chouchou descended from the treetops and ran in a straight line, without even hiding his footsteps, forgetting all his circumstances, hesitation, and burdens for just this moment.

And.

Just as he expected—it was there.

Just as he had envisioned it, it was there.

There, in a naturally open clearing in the middle of the mountain—the form of a man that was wholeheartedly yet recklessly yet single-mindedly making spear hand strikes.

The sound of a hand cutting through the air.

Quietly—resounded.

It resounded again and again.

"...Hm?"

With that.

The man noticed Chouchou.

He hadn't been hiding his presence—but even so, he had a huge body anyway, so no matter what he was in the midst of, there was no way he wouldn't be noticed when he approached.

The man looked at Chouchou, wearing shinobi attire cut off at the shoulders, and chains wrapped all over his body.

And he said.

"Haha. It's the first time I'm seeing someone bigger than me—you're incredible."

And laughed amiably.

This was the first time that Chouchou, born in a village of shinobi, was ever praised for his physique—and this was the fateful encounter between the Maniwa Ninja Corps genin, Maniwa Chouchou, and the founder of Kyotouryuu, Yasuri Kazune.

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The founder of Kyotouryuu, Yasuri Kazune.

But of course, at this moment in time, he was nobody at all—he was but a mere practitioner who had not earned any military honors or achievements.

A practitioner—and a martial artist.

He was in the middle of a mountain retreat.

However, despite this war-torn world, for him to be training alone in such a remote place, silently, without participating in the war—that alone made him a nonconformist of considerable strength in the eyes of Maniwa Chouchou.

It was as if he had no interest in the world at all.

As Kazune continued his actions, as if he only found value in training his own body—Chouchou forgot everything else and gazed at him.

Normally, he should not have been doing that.

Chouchou's top priority right now should have been to return to the Maniwa village—he didn't have the time to be making a detour, much less come to a stop entirely.

Even though Maniwa Kyouken put her life on the line to allow Chouchou to escape—what was he doing, to not respond to the spirit of those actions?

He could hear himself asking those questions.

And yet.

If he just walked away now after coming across this man—Chouchou felt like it would be an even bigger betrayal.

A betrayal against Kyouken? Or a betrayal against the Maniwa Ninja Corps?

Or, even before that, a betrayal against his own body?

It wasn't clear to him.

But he hesitated for just a moment.

And then Chouchou stopped thinking entirely—and just followed his heart.

And charged—right at Yasuri Kazune.

◇　　　◇

There was no need for words.

There was no need to speak.

There was no need to listen.

The battle began naturally, as if they had made a promise to do so quite a long time ago.

Maniwa Chouchou headed towards Yasuri Kazune.

And Yasuri Kazune—received him with a delighted smile.

They didn't even know each other's names yet.

If anything, they didn't even know "what" the other party was. It was that sort of unidentified, indistinct situation.

Nevertheless.

They perceived each other as similar beings—as two of a kind.

And they faced off.

"Chei!"

Chouchou's first attack was faster.

Kazune had a considerably large body as well—but, as he'd said himself, it was a physique that was inferior when compared to Chouchou's. His stature was obviously smaller—but even when it came to the lengths of their arms, Chouchou's was overwhelmingly, ridiculously overwhelmingly, on the larger side.

And that long arm twisted like a whip.

Maniwa Chouchou's fist—headed for Kazune's face.

He covered a terrific amount of distance.

It was a fist of certain death that came flying in from so far—that would throw off one's sense of distance.

"Ha—"

Exhaling in such a way, Kazune repelled that fist upwards.

He didn't avoid it or receive it, but repel it.

That action—could be the proof of his absolute confidence in his own body. He was strongly convinced that, no matter the attack, it would not be able to come close to destroying his body, which had been forged like steel.

Chouchou—was pleased.

Strange as it may seem, he was incredibly pleased that his fist had been repelled.

Nothing made him happier to know that someone with such confidence was right in front of him.

To add to his joy, he tried to lunge from a distance with his other hand, this time as a spear hand—but Kazune would not allow it.

No, it was more than that.

He—went for the arm he'd just repelled.

He grabbed his wrist—and, in one go, used his weight to pull him down.

—A joint lock!

That came out of nowhere!

If his elbow was destroyed, then the battle would be decided then and there, and that wasn't what Chouchou wanted. As he was pulled down, Chouchou jumped—and, faster than Kazune could act, he rotated his body in midair, buying time for the joint lock to be applied.

If there had been anybody spectating, they surely would not have been able to hide their surprise at Chouchou's instantaneous movements—not one person could have expected that Chouchou would be able to move his gigantic body with such agility.

But to Chouchou, these were just normal movements.

A movement like this was just a way to buy time.

Not to mention—he'd only earned a second.

That was all it was.

However, even one second was enough.

For Maniwa Chouchou, one second was worth five thrusts.

And Kazune must have sensed something in his gut, because he immediately let go of Chouchou's arm—but instead of thoughtlessly trying to distance himself from Chouchou, he instead moved in even closer.

This wasn't close-quarters combat anymore.

It may as well be called contact combat.

In theory, his action was the correct one to make—because of Chouchou's long arms and long legs, and because his range was just too wide, it was more correct to draw in closer rather than move farther away. Although, the difficulty of the act of drawing in closer was unimaginably high—but Kazune performed it as if it were a perfectly natural procedure.

And then, at that distance.

At that short distance—marvelously, Kazune aimed for Chouchou's face and sent out a kick.

It was an attack that could only be allowed by a frightening degree of flexibility and explosive power.

There was no way to dodge it.

It was a kick from a completely unexpected direction.

In fact, never in Maniwa Chouchou's life—had an attack actually come for his head. So there being a slight delay in his reaction was something that was unavoidable.

However, even so, it wasn't like he couldn't do anything just because he reacted late.

If he couldn't dodge—then before they collided.

Before that attack collided.

Chouchou instantly folded his long arms and smashed his elbow into the kicking leg with an inside turn.

An elbow strike.

But it wasn't even something as skilled as that.

If anyone other than Chouchou had done it, it would have looked like a move made out of desperation.

With the elbow that he'd just barely freed from the joint lock, he'd intentionally use it in a move that could potentially break it? It was foolish even among foolish acts.

And he wasn't just repelling the attack, but rather boorishly aiming for their attacks to collide—recklessly using what was the hardest point on the human body was not in the slightest bit befitting of a shinobi, but a defensive move purely made from the perspective of a kenpou practitioner.

—No.

—I probably—can't call this a defensive move, either.

In the first place, there was no such thing as defense in Maniwa kenpou.

All they had was to be constantly attacking.

Attack before being attacked—that was the basic approach, and being ahead of the curve was the beauty of it.

As such, if you happened to be attacked first—then the basic approach was to attack whatever was attacking you.

That was the beauty of it.

—A shinobi, talking about beauty?

—If you ask me, it's kind of stupid.

The move resembling an elbow strike against the kick—was successful.

By deliberately shifting the moment of impact, he'd managed to minimize the damage to his elbow and arm, while the opponent—his shin had been injured.

In fact, Kazune had groaned,

"Oof... Kh!"

and pulled back his leg.

However, even noticing that fact was careless.

The leg that he'd pulled back didn't touch the ground—and instead came whirling back around towards Chouchou's body.

It was a feint to make one let their guard down—but it was probably true that his shin actually did hurt. But to use that injured body part immediately after for a follow-up attack—

A follow-up attack.

This time, the target was not the head but the torso.

He completely took it.

That force seemed like it was enough to pierce through his insides.

If anything, the impact was as if he'd been cut by a sword—and for a moment, Chouchou was enveloped in a vision of his torso having been cut to pieces.

"Gh—"

"Kyotouryuu—'Sarusuberi'!"

Kazune's voice.

Kyo-tou-ryuu?

Was that—the name of his school of martial arts?

Just as Chouchou came to that understanding—the move had already been sent out.

Of course, being distracted by the name of the school couldn't be an excuse—it was rather that the attack had once again come at Chouchou from an unexpected direction.

Chouchou's stance had drooped slightly after taking the attack to his torso, and the attack came for his jaw—as if this sequence of actions had been choreographed from the beginning, the heel of Kazune's palm flew up from below.

Despite being a movement that went against the pull of gravity, it still held overwhelming force.

The impact lifted his body off of the ground—but the force was as if he'd been slammed into the ground.

He barely had time to feel the pain.

In an instant, he fell unconscious.

But just before he fainted, Maniwa Chouchou had managed to perceive his own defeat—not a defeat as a shinobi, but a defeat as a kenpou practitioner.

Despite his conviction that he'd never lose in a one-on-one fight, the only pride he'd built up so far had been destroyed.

And yet.

Oddly enough—he didn't feel too bad about it.

◇　　　◇

"Hey, you're awake. Here, drink this."

As soon as Chouchou woke up, the first thing thrust at him was some sake.

And not in a cup or a bowl—but an entire sake barrel.

Almost bursting into laughter at the tremendousness of it, Chouchou picked himself up off of the ground—and, accepting the barrel, he lifted it up and drank from it with loud gulps.

Sake to resuscitate him—no, that wasn't it.

If anything, it was sake to fortify him.

"It's good. How did you get your hands on something like this, deep in the mountains?"

"A fortune teller that I happen to know likes to drop in from time to time—well, he's a weird guy. I'm usually bad with sake, but this one's different."

"Uh-huh. A fortune teller."

"Yeah. I think he also said he was a swordsmith, but to me it's all the same. By the way, I'm Yasuri Kazune. Who are you?"

"I'm Maniwa Chouchou."

"Maniwa. Ah, a ninja."

"Unfortunately, I haven't heard the name Yasuri before—who do you work for?"

"I'm just the prodigal son of a family close to the Tetsubi family of the six feudal lords. It doesn't matter if you haven't heard of it. I'm just a good-for-nothing that can't even wield a sword properly."

"Me too—I'm not really someone you could describe as a ninja."

Chouchou smiled bitterly.

And so did Kazune.

The battle had only lasted a short amount of time—nothing but a few exchanges of blows.

However, as a result, the two men seemed to understand each other as if they had been talking for hours.

Sometimes, a single blow of the fist spoke more eloquently than a few billion words.

At the very least—that was how Yasuri Kazune was to Maniwa Chouchou.

"Hahaha."

Laughing, Kazune brought out another sake barrel—and began to drink from it with a tremendous sound.

"It's true that what you did just now wasn't ninjutsu—just normal martial arts. It's impressive that you've trained your body to such an extent within human limits. As someone who shares the same will as you, I have nothing but admiration—I thought I'd be the only one doing this kind of stuff nowadays. By the way, your movements seemed pretty unique. Is it your own style?"

"I guess you could say that. It's called Maniwa kenpou. It's a form with a lot of history, but it's a little too old—a little too rustic, a little too antique. It needs to be adjusted for the present times—but there's no other weirdo who'd go and do something so bothersome. Well, seeing as I'm just an underling that isn't assigned any particular task, at least I have a lot of time."

"History, huh? That's a word that that fortune teller might like—or wait, did he actually hate history? I forget. I just don't really know about that guy at all."

He set down the sake barrel.

"But really, I have to thank you," said Kazune. "Because of you, I managed to think of another special move. No, rather than a special move. Once you get into that area of things, you may as well call it a secret technique. With the fastest possible movements, attack before being attacked—the method of getting ahead of the ahead should be an invincible technique. With the meaning of an attack that you can't avoid even if you see it coming, I shall give it the name of 'Kyouka Suigetsu'.

With this, Kyotouryuu has come one step closer to completion—he said.

Kazune spoke happily.

Innocently, and earnestly—so there was a person that pursued his path like so. Chouchou felt a bit strange.

Aha, it was what Kazune had mentioned before.

He'd thought—that he was the only one doing such a thing.

"You sure are weird—speaking of nowadays, that goes for you too. A mountain retreat is pretty behind-the-times now, isn't it? While you were off doing something like this, the war's gone and ended. Did you know about that? Right now, this influence called the new shogun—"

"I know. A famous person from Shikoku, right? It's putting my family in a bit of a spot—I'll probably have to end up returning from the mountains in the near future. But now is not that time. My development of Kyotouryuu is still in progress."

"Kyotouryuu, huh."

It had a nice ring to it.

He didn't know why he felt that way, but it sounded like the name of a work of art.

"Anyway, the Maniwa Ninja Corps—who are they following now?"

"Dunno—we change who we work for all the time. There are even times when we act as both friend and foe, and I don't really get that stuff. It's possible we're even hostile to your family, the Tetsubi family."

"That would be interesting."

Saying that, it seemed Kazune truly did find it interesting, as he laughed heartily.

"If that's the case, then we may as well have had a war by proxy just now."

"Ho. Then it would be the Tetsubi family that came out victorious—haha. As long as it wasn't a battle between allies."

"Of course not."

And then Chouchou—stood up.

He stretched that gigantic body of his to the air—bending forwards, then backwards. Checking his condition.

"You're going?"

asked Kazune with a smile, not reluctant to see him go.

"Yeah. I was in the middle of a task."

"I see. I was also in the middle—of training."

"I should be the one to thank you. The truth is, this task will probably be my last."

"Your last?"

"Yeah. Not my first and last—but my last and final. Because, despite being a ninja, I'm not suited to being a ninja at all. This huge body gets in the way, and I can't carry out my work properly. Even today, I was just holding one of my comrades back—so I kept thinking that there was no reason for me to keep being a ninja."

"Haha, what's with that? How stupid."

Though Chouchou opened up with his concerns, Kazune just laughed it off.

In an extremely refreshing way, he laughed it off.

"The world is what you say it is, Maniwa ninja—and so, you shouldn't speak of what you can't do. Don't speak of yourself in the negative. Speak of yourself in the positive. All you need to do is master your kenpou, and then claim that that is your ninjutsu."

"......"

"I can't wield a sword—I don't even know how to hold the hilt. But no matter what, I'm not gonna go and say that out in the open—I'll keep that fact to myself for the rest of my life, as something that only I know about. Instead, I'll insist that these arms and these legs—that this entire body of mine is my sword. You can't do it? That's wrong. It's that you don't have to do it. What tiger is ashamed of not being able to breathe in the water? You should introduce yourself in an additive way, not a subtractive way. If you can't use a sword—your whole body can simply become the sword."

That—is my Kyotouryuu.

Yasuri Kazune—stuck out his chest and declared so.

"Well, I said all that all self-importantly, but I'm just repeating the words of that weird fortune teller—haha. Well, the negative thing about this is that it's from a bungling fortune teller, so you can't really rely on it, but apparently I'm a swordsman that will change history. Isn't that something? But if that's all, then it's kind of stupid. At that point, rather than changing history, I may as well be a swordsman that creates history."

"...Yeah. Then, I'll become a shinobi that can destroy history."

He didn't even need to say it—by that point.

By the point when he had exchanged blows with Kazune, Maniwa Chouchou had already stopped thinking of this task as his last—or, rather, this task would become his first as a ninja fistfighter.

After returning to the Maniwa village.

First, he'd bow his head to Kyouken and Houou.

However, he wouldn't say any words of apology.

Instead, he'd start talking big—he'd start speaking of pipe dreams that even Maniwa Kuizame would be ashamed to speak of.

"Maniwa Chouchou. Will the next time we meet be on the battlefield?"

"Who knows? However, if that time comes, then prepare yourself. My Maniwa kenpou is still in development. Don't think that today's victory will be all."

"If you're going to say that, then even Kyotouryuu is still incomplete. It will be completed in the near future, but as for when it is completed, when it is truly and utterly completed—when it is concluded, that may not be until much further in the future. Perhaps it may not even be possible in my generation."

"That will be true for Maniwa kenpou, too. I'll take this old, moldy school of martial arts—and improve it further and take it to future generations. To future generations, and perhaps to future eras."

And.

He didn't know if it would be a hundred years, or even two hundred years in the future.

"When the day comes that a user of Maniwa kenpou and a user of Kyotouryuu end up meeting again—I'm sure it will be an exhilarating one."

◇　　　◇

Afterwards, there were quite a few more twists and turns before Maniwa Chouchou would end up elected as one of the Twelve Chiefs—at the very least, it didn't go smoothly. However, at his own request, and with the fierce encouragement of Maniwa Kyouken, he became the first kenpou practitioner in the history of the Maniwa Ninja Corps to stand in the position of chief. Even after becoming one of the Twelve Chiefs, Chouchou continued to improve upon Maniwa kenpou and finally perfected it to a point where it went beyond ninjutsu and could be used in any situation, including in one-on-many battles. Even so, he continued to apply himself diligently, saying that it was only completed, but not concluded.

Whether it was bad luck or just fate, Maniwa Chouchou and Yasuri Kazune did not have a chance to meet again, not even in battle—so the rematch between Kyotouryuu and Maniwa kenpou would have to wait for perhaps another six generations.

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