A Naruto fanfiction by WisdomTeef.
Summary:
In the underbelly of a chakraless future, Roshni
fights like they’re writing verses into the air–sharp,
measured, burning with purpose. Arin fights beside
them, encased in a glowing exosuit that speaks
louder than any words.Together, they choreograph a poem of violence and
tenderness against an Akatsuki remnant. A leap, a
glance, a shared breath.In this world, fighting is language. And their bodies
speak volumes.
Work Text:
Roshni eyed the stray Akatsuki minion gaining up on them – in what appeared to him – a stealthy way. They crouched down against the wall, balancing their feet on the edge of the building, watching with awed fancy as Arin swung from one tower to another, the cheap office lights reflecting off her exosuit. Metallic white, wondrous curves and elegant slashes of colour throughout the material, she was one to stand out.
A quiet wind blowed, ruffling Roshni’s hair and blocking their view – which they promptly tucked into their hairband. The girl was more important. The minion performed the Surya Mudra somewhere on the road, summoning a ball of fire and throwing it into a pothole. A gush of water flew out, caring him atop it. A smile tugged at the corner of their mouth.
They would have done differently. They would have done better.
Arin finally landed beside them, her eye-slits clicking open and revealing a pair of wondrous glowing pools of light. Sweat glistened on the girl’s eyebrows, making them shine. There was that familiar look of excitement, urgency and what mattered most to Roshni – trust. Arin stretched out a hand, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Roshni’s ear – who finally broke into a wide grin.
Roshni stood on the raised boundary of the building, mounted their right foot into the crook of their left knee and with one graceful swish, formed the Padma mudra with their palms cupping air and their fingers outstretched. Arin followed suit, albeit quite differently. She crouched low on her right leg, slid her left foot in front and bent low – the cat pose. Her hands formed claws, ten sharp needle like fixtures popped out of the ends of her fingers, falling into place with a satisfying click.
Roshni spared a glance below, the Akatsuki man now advancing with a steady pace upwards. The water had force enough to launch him at them but only as much. They watched with mirth as his beady black eyes grew wide in shock and his mudra faltered. Arin was the first one to act – jumping at the first opening she saw. Her left hand closed into a fist, fitting into the palm of her right and with one fell swoop, she lodged her elbow into the ribs of the man.
The column of water broke, forming a sphere around the man and Arin and rising higher. The clashes and collisions of the two shut off completely and the water began glowing red. Things only got easier from there. Roshni broke their Padma mudra, forming the Chakram and launching themself into the water. Their fists interlocked above their head, their knees bent at right angles and toes became pointed. With a resonating boom, Roshni broke into the sphere, forming a small ball of super-heated water in their palm. Arin swirled around them, blocking oncoming attacks from the Akatsuki minion and eyeing Roshni’s palm with every slash.
The girl knew when to stop, Roshni knew when to begin. It was an unspoken poem between them. Arin’s eyes and their fists, colliding, moving, merging together. It was all a part of their choreography – their own Bharatnatyam.
The man spotted a chink in Arin’s shield around Roshni, and rushed in, unaware of what awaited him. Arin let go of her defence, falling back out of the sphere and landing against the building, watching with a burning gaze Roshni’s every move. Roshni felt the girl’s stare blaze a hole through the back of their neck, making their breath quicken. They would have to get this done with; it was a compulsion.
Now more than ever.
The Akatsuki minion drew out an ugly red blade, aiming for their nape. Roshni turned around and widened their right arm, exposing it further. The ball of water kept heating up in their palm, accumulating all the energy they had gathered from the Chakra mudra. Roshni waited for the man to get closer to them, till they could smell his ugly fish breath and with an almighty thrust, pushed him back with their palm, the water singing everything from his armour to his skin. The man’s ribs cracked in rows and with a weak groan, he fell all the way down.
Roshni landed softly beside Arin, observing in silence as the loud gasps of passers-by echoed up to them. The man was bleeding freely from his head and a singed hole glowed in his chest. Cars stopped around him, police sirens blared. Arin inched closer to Roshni, her exosuit clinking and snapping as parts of it came undone, exposing her hands and face.
The cold night wind swished around her face, blowing her hair all over – what a sight.
What a sight.
Roshni slowly raised a hand, still shaking from the sudden burst of energy that they had burnt from the Chakram. Arin mirrored their actions, raising a cupped palm and resting it against their neck. Her eyes were aglow, fixating Roshni with the burning stare they were drawn to so much. Their quivering hand rested gently on Arin’s cheek – holding back, seemingly scared – as if a touch would break the girl.
Arin – the strongest woman they knew – yet so fragile, she was like glass.
“Are you hurt?”, Roshni said, their voice barely audible above the police sirens.
Arin cocked her head, eyeing them curiously. Their hands stayed in place, each providing the other with warmth unknown in that cold nowhere. She nodded with a small grin, leaning into Roshni’s palm and jutting her chin towards them.
“And you?” , the gesture said.
Their breath hitched, heart beating so quickly, it was suffocating them. Roshni nodded back, smiling a shaky smile.
Both of them were safe. Unharmed.
And the night was long.
