The arena was silent as Ren and Misaki stood facing each other. The Kurushimi clan girl's eyes had already taken on that distinctive reddish hue.
"Don't hide, Mizutani," Misaki said, her voice cold. "I've seen how you watch everyone, how you study every move. Today we'll find out what you're really hiding."
Ren kept a neutral expression, the tanto at his side. 'I have to be careful,' he thought. 'I can't afford to attract too much attention.'
"Begin!"
Misaki attacked immediately, her fighting style revealing years of traditional clan training. Her movements were precise but not overly elaborate - deadly in their simplicity. Ren simply dodged, studying her fighting rhythm.
'I have to be careful,' he thought as he dodged a combination of strikes. 'Her taijutsu is superior to mine, at least from what I can show.'
"Suiton: Mizurappa!" Ren performed the basic technique they had learned at the academy, deliberately keeping the water jet at a moderate strength. Misaki easily avoided it, but the wet ground served its purpose - slowing her movements slightly.
"Is that all you can do?" she taunted, stepping forward with a kunai. "Basic techniques from the academy?"
A blow found its mark, slightly cutting Ren's arm. It was then that the Kurushimi clan's kekkei genkai manifested - not spectacularly, but with uncanny precision. The blood from the wound, instead of falling, hung in the air for a moment before solidifying into a small crimson blade.
Ren was forced to perform a Kawarimi when the blade of crystallized blood turned on him. The replacement trunk was cut clean off - a clear warning of what would happen if he took a direct hit.
"The kekkei genkai of the Kurushimi clan," one of the examiners muttered. "Though still raw, the potential is obvious."
The fight continued with Ren on the defensive, limited by the basic techniques he could display. The weight of his equipment made every movement more laborious, but that at least gave him an excuse for his apparent slowness.
Misaki continued to attack, but her control over the crystallized blood was still not perfect. She could manipulate small amounts with precision, but maintaining control seemed to require constant concentration.
"Why are you holding back?" she asked, frustration evident in her voice as another of her attacks was narrowly avoided. "Do you think I'm weak? That I'm not worthy of a real fight?"
'It's not a question of strength,' Ren thought as he dodged another strike. 'It's a question of survival.'
Ren executed another Kawarimi, buying himself a few moments of respite. Misaki's taunt went unanswered—only the sound of her measured footsteps as she kept her distance from the next attack.
The silence seemed to infuriate Misaki more than any response. Blood from the small wounds she had managed to inflict pooled around her, not in a spectacular way but with a methodical precision that made it all the more disturbing.
"Your silence…" she hissed, her voice shaking with suppressed anger, "is worse than any insult. Like everyone else, you think you're better than us, don't you? That you can ignore us?"
Ren continued to move cautiously, his eyes never losing sight of either the blades of crystallized blood or Misaki's movements. His silence was not a taunt, but a necessity—any word could betray too much, reveal what he couldn't afford to show.
It was then that Misaki launched her most dangerous attack—not a storm of blades, but a series of small but lethally precise bullets of crystallized blood. There weren't many, but their trajectory had been calculated to leave him no escape route.
'I have no choice,' Ren thought, his hands forming the seals of the only other technique he could afford to show.
"Kirigakure no Jutsu."
A mist began to fill the arena, not particularly thick but enough to confuse his aim. The bullets of crystallized blood cut through the mist, inexorably approaching his position...