Her Chakra was bottoming out. He could tell.
The way she ran, the sluggishness when dodging, the instinctive reactions of someone about to collapse. He could see it all.
He gripped the handle of the sword. Rainwater trickled down the handle, flowing through his fingers and mixing with blood.
That was the blood seeping out because he was gripping it too hard, his nails digging into his flesh.
Then he heard it.
The cry pierced through the curtain of rain, sharp enough to tear a throat apart.
"Shinji!!!"
Those two words smashed into his ears, into his chest, into his bones.
He had never heard her scream like that before.
Something in that voice had shattered. It wasn't despair, it wasn't a cry for help; it was something else.
It was something he never knew she was hiding, something she never dared to say, something she had kept buried at the very bottom of her heart.
He moved.
The moment he rushed out from the rock crevice, his mind was empty.
No tactics, no plans, no calculations about "the best time to strike."
Only that voice.
Only that name.
Only that face that had walked out of the mist, the face he had first seen five years ago.
A flash of the blade sliced through the rain.
He descended from the sky, his feet slamming into the mud and splashing water in a circle.
The kubikiribōchō was held horizontally in front of him, the white cloth unfurling in the rain to reveal the dull, dark blade.
He stood in front of her, his back turned to her.
Rainwater trickled down his hair, flowed over his cheeks and chin, and dripped onto the ground.
He did not turn back. He simply gripped his sword, watching the four Konoha Ninja who had been stunned by the sudden turn of events.
The rain continued to fall. It pelted the blade, his shoulders, and the space between them.
Then he spoke, his voice slightly blurred by the sound of the rain.
But that calm tone clearly pierced through the curtain of rain and fell into her ears.
"I am here."
The four Konoha Chunin simultaneously took half a step back.
Not because they were scared of him, but forced back by the momentum of that blade, an instinctive reaction.
But they quickly steadied themselves, returned to their starting stances, and prepared to continue the attack.
However, the next second, the expressions on their faces froze.
Not because of him.
It was because of what was behind him.
Mei Terumī followed their gaze.
Another figure landed in the curtain of rain.
Golden hair.
That flash of gold was blindingly bright in the grey, rainy curtain, like a burning golden flame.
He landed on a section of broken wall, his posture as light as a bird descending, not even splashing much water.
Minato Namikaze.
The Yellow Flash.
Mei Terumī's breath hitched for a moment.
Minato Namikaze stood there, soaked by the rain, but that sense of composure remained undiminished.
"Am I late?"
His gaze passed over Shinji, landed on Mei Terumī, and then shifted toward Rin Nohara, who was tied up in the distance.
Finally, he looked back at the boy holding the kubikiribōchō in front of him.
The rain continued to fall.
Their eyes met.
"Run."
Shinji's voice came.
Very soft, but very clear. Soft as if afraid to disturb something, clear enough that every word smashed into her heart.
Mei Terumī opened her mouth:
"You can't beat him—"
"Run!"
Shinji cut her off.
Still not turning back.
He just gripped the kubikiribōchō, stood in front of her, and through the curtain of rain, looked at the man known as the "fastest in the Ninja World."
Rain dripped from his hair, from the hem of his clothes, from the tip of his blade.
He didn't take a single step back.
Mei Terumī's nails dug into her palms. It hurt. It hurt so much that blood seeped out.
In that instant, she wanted to rush up, wanted to stand by his side, wanted to face that invincible opponent with him.
But she didn't.
She ran.
Turned around. Pushed off. Sprinting across the edge of the ruins.
The rain hitting her face felt like knife cuts.
The old injury on her knee was screaming, the air in her lungs was burning, but she didn't stop. She didn't dare stop for a single step.
Because that was the opportunity he had bought with his life.
...
A flash.
A golden flash tore through the curtain of rain, too fast for the eye to follow.
At the same time, water exploded; the kubikiribōchō split the giant waves brought by the curtain of rain, and the two forces collided.
Boom.
A shockwave erupted, overturning all the broken walls nearby.
Rubble flew, the curtain of rain was torn into countless fragments, and in that instant, only that blinding light remained between heaven and earth.
The flash and the blade collided again.
Boom.
The mud waves kicked up by the shockwave leveled another layer of the surrounding ruins.
The rain was shaken into fine mist, filling the space between the two, only to be blown away by the next round of impact.
Shinji flew backward, his back slamming into a broken wall, and rubble collapsed with a clatter, burying his lower body.
"Why is the Minato Namikaze of this world so fierce? If I had known, I wouldn't have cut it so close to save her!"
Shinji pushed himself up against the wall, his left arm hanging at his side, swinging at an unnatural angle. It was broken.
Blood flowed down from a wound on his forehead, blurring his left eye.
A cut was slashed across his chest, the skin and flesh rolled back, revealing the crimson muscle underneath.
There were also three sword wounds on his legs, the deepest one exposing bone.
He looked like he had just been fished out of a pool of blood; even the rain couldn't wash away the thick smell of blood.
He had originally thought that since he was the strongest genius of the Hidden Mist Village, and now one of the elite Jonin of the Hidden Mist Village, and possessed a Sage Body...
even if he hadn't reached Kage level, even if he couldn't win, he shouldn't be that far behind Minato Namikaze.
As it turned out, he had verified Jiraiya's words:
Compared to Minato, any genius seems less than excellent.
In this parallel world without Naruto, Minato Namikaze is a bit ridiculously strong.
But Shinji was still standing.
The hand gripping the kubikiribōchō was still exerting force.
Minato Namikaze stood ten steps away, his breathing slightly ragged.
He looked at the boy in front of him. The boy covered in blood, with a broken left arm, who had nonetheless remained blocking his pursuit path the entire time.
From just now until now, this boy hadn't taken a single step back.
Every time he was knocked flying, he would stand back up.
Every time he was wounded, he would grip that blade again.
The rain continued to fall.
Minato Namikaze was still holding a Kunai in his hand, with the Flying Thunder God formula carved onto it.
If he wanted to, he could instantly appear behind that boy and end the fight with one slash.
With his speed, the boy wouldn't even have time to react.
But he didn't move.
Not because he couldn't. It was—
He looked back behind him. Rin Nohara had been untied and was being escorted away by two Anbu members in the distance.
And further away, he sensed new Chakra. He didn't know if it was reinforcements from the Hidden Cloud or the Hidden Mist, but they were approaching—not just one group, and they were getting closer.
If he rushed up to kill this boy now, he could.
He could do it within three minutes.