Chapter 45: "Of Cursed Swords, Pineapple Heads, and Totally Normal Moonlight Duels"
(Or: That Time Tenten Picked a Fight With a Laughing Murder Blade)
Look, it's one thing to fight a cursed sword with a superiority complex.
It's another thing entirely when that sword is currently hijacking the brain and biceps of the local genius strategist, throwing around enough magical powers to give a weather god an existential crisis.
Welcome to Dark Shika—Shikamaru, possessed and powered up like a final boss who skipped the tutorial and went straight to world-ending mode.
The Seven Star Sword wasn't just showing off anymore.
It had evolved.
Now equipped with:
An unbreakable blade (because plot armor, but sharp),
Emerald flames that literally induced depression (because why just burn when you can be emotionally crushed, too?),
Shadow powers (because of course),
Shockwaves strong enough to shatter air like glass,
And a voice that now sounded suspiciously like every smug villain ever—
It was, in short, a problem.
Also a little dramatic.
"THE SKY ITSELF WILL BREAK FOR ME!" Dark Shika howled, raising both hands like he was summoning the apocalypse on speed dial.
From above, flaming lances rained down like hell's version of party poppers. From below, shadows surged upward, twisting into spires and jaws and all the fun things you'd never want near your face.
Most people would run.
Tenten?
She grinned.
"Okay, your turn to be impressed," she said to no one in particular—probably the moon, maybe fate—then tossed her rifle into the air and summoned nine more.
Boom.
Chakra rifles spun around her like a mechanical halo, each locking onto a different angle.
And because that wasn't enough? Two chakra cannons shimmered into place on her shoulders, each one capable of launching blasts that looked suspiciously like Rasengans with trust issues.
Still not done.
She summoned two blades—one of fire, one of ice—and clutched them in her hands like the world's most stylish dual-wielding hurricane.
Oh, and then came the armor.
Not just armor—battle-grade chakra armor with speed boosters, chakra dampeners, and a glow that screamed I'm about to ruin someone's week.
With a whoosh, Tenten shot into the sky, her boosters igniting behind her like comets. She sliced through the falling flame lances with pinpoint grace and launched a chakra beam directly at Dark Shika like a glowing javelin of NOPE.
Dark Shika met it head-on, his sword igniting in emerald flame as he slashed—the two attacks colliding in mid-air with a thunderclap so loud, fish jumped out of the ocean just to see what was happening.
Then he clenched his fist.
Above Tenten, the air shimmered. And cracked.
Cracks spread like spiderwebs across the sky, glowing white and blue, and then came the shockwaves—energy so violent it felt like reality was being turned into a trampoline mid-earthquake.
Tenten narrowed her eyes.
"Cute trick."
She blasted forward, chakra barrier flaring, smashing through the cracking air like it owed her money.
Then came the hailstorm.
Her rifles and cannons locked onto Dark Shika, firing beam after beam, blast after blast—some big, some precise, all very, very annoying.
Dark Shika hissed.
"YOU DARE—"
He barely had time to finish his dramatic line when Tenten appeared at his side, both elemental swords swinging in an X-slash. He jerked back, shadows flaring into a protective shell, and unleashed a flame explosion in every direction.
A whoomph of fire and fury erupted like a bomb.
The blast sent Tenten hurtling back into the sky—armor scorched, chakra field flickering.
She didn't flinch.
"Alright," she muttered, voice calm, breath sharp. "You wanna play hard?"
A spear shimmered into her hand—crackling lightning wrapped in wind chakra, humming with enough volts to power a small city.
"Let's play harder."
She threw.
It ripped through the sky like a thunder god's dart, aimed straight for the heart of the darkness below.
Dark Shika's eyes widened—just a flicker—but it was enough.
This wasn't just a ninja duel.
This was a clash of titans.
Of science versus sorcery.
Of strategy versus raw chaos.
Of Tenten versus an overly dramatic sword with way too many powers and not enough humility.
And somewhere, Naruto shouted from the sidelines:
"Did she just summon TEN guns? I love this island!"
Ino passed him popcorn.
"Two more minutes before one of them levels the beach."
Sakura sighed. "And I just got my sandals sand-free again."
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The sky was red, the sea was black, and the possessed genius ninja with a cursed sword complex had just turned the battlefield into something out of a horror movie.
So, you know. Typical Tuesday.
After getting thoroughly roasted, blasted, and beam-splashed by Tenten's sky arsenal, Dark Shika—the Seven Star Sword now fully embracing its identity as a dramatic flaming menace—had finally hit his stride.
Which was bad news.
Because when a cursed weapon starts understanding chakra flow and realizes it can now enhance a body like Shikamaru's?
You're looking at a villain update screen that just blinked:
"Congratulations! You've unlocked: Nightmare Speed DLC."
With a low, delighted chuckle (the villain monologue kind, obviously), Dark Shika blurred from view.
No sound. No warning. Just bam—he appeared right beside Tenten, a blur of shadows and emerald light, and slashed.
Tenten barely brought her twin swords up in time.
Clang!
The impact sounded like a bell tower being dropkicked off a cliff.
The force was insane—so much that her arms screamed in protest, and her swords cracked like ice under pressure. And Tenten?
She was launched backward like a rocket, crashing into the sea with a splash that probably upset several fish communities.
The ocean, for the record, was having a whole mood of its own.
Black waves, red moonlight, eerie silence… basically, it felt like the kind of place where sea monsters paid rent.
And then came the tendrils.
Long, dark, slithering shadows curled toward Tenten beneath the surface—wrapping like ropes, pulsing with that same cursed energy that made you want to give up on your dreams and eat seventeen bowls of ramen in a blanket cave.
Tenten kicked back and twisted, blasting a burst of chakra to keep them at bay.
She grit her teeth as the sea churned around her, her voice a bubble-warped mutter.
"Yup. Definitely outclassed like this."
If this had been a friendly spar, she might've laughed it off and pretended she wasn't currently being shadow-strangled underwater.
But this wasn't a spar.
This was a duel with a sword that wanted to tame her, destroy her, and probably lecture her about her "inferior craftsmanship" while doing it.
And honestly?
She should've listened to her own advice.
"End it fast before he gets used to the body," she had told herself three days ago. Of course, he would've just made some arrogant speech and refused to submit.
"Swords with egos," she muttered, staring upward at the blood-red shimmer from the surface. "Always so dramatic."
Then she sighed.
And did the logical thing.
She opened the First Gate.
Her chakra pulsed once—bright, brilliant blue—and the ocean around her exploded in a ring of bubbles.
Gate One: The Gate of Opening.
It wasn't a huge deal for her anymore. Her body had long since adapted to the strain of the first gate, so it was like flipping on the "turbo mode" switch without worrying about the engine melting.
And man, did it help.
In a flash, she blasted upward from the water like a missile with opinions, tendrils snapping and hissing behind her.
Her eyes glowed faintly now. Her aura surged. Her cracked swords hummed with renewed chakra.
The beach? Now watching with baited breath.
Tenten hovered mid-sky like an avenging blade with a grudge.
She cracked her neck and narrowed her eyes at the figure of Dark Shika, who hovered across from her surrounded by swirling shadows and manic emerald light.
"You hit me once," she called out. "Don't get too excited."
Dark Shika tilted his head, amused. "I will do more than hit you. I will conquer you. You will become my sheath."
Tenten raised an eyebrow. "Wow. That sounded less creepy in your head, didn't it?"
And then—boom—she vanished, racing forward like lightning shot from a cannon.
The battle had just entered Phase Two.
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If this were an anime, this chapter would come with its own soundtrack—probably something orchestral with drums pounding like heartbeats and violins screaming in the background.
Because what came next wasn't flashy cannon blasts or giant glowing spears.
Nope. This was pure, old-school, high-speed, edge-of-your-seat swordsmanship.
Tenten touched down on the water's surface—chakra keeping her light as a leaf—and slid to a stop, her cracked blades humming with their last ounce of usefulness.
"Time to retire, beauties," she whispered, stowing them away in her scroll. "You did great."
With a deep breath, she unsealed a new pair of swords.
These were heavier, thicker, with forged chakra channels along the edge—one gleaming a cool silver-blue (ice affinity), the other pulsing a warm crimson-orange (fire). They looked like they meant business.
Which was good. Because business was coming in hot.
Literally.
Dark Shika darted forward from across the sea like a streak of burning shadow, the Seven Star Sword drawn back and glowing like a cursed firebrand ready to cleave the ocean in half.
Tenten met him head-on.
CLANG!
The first clash nearly cracked the sky. Water exploded beneath them in twin bursts as they rebounded—then charged again.
CLANG!
Ice met flame. Fire met emerald. Speed met precision.
Each strike from Tenten was fast, brutal, and meticulously calculated, her chakra armor enhancing her reactions while her muscles strained under the open gate's pressure.
But Dark Shika?
He was fast now. Too fast.
He moved like Shikamaru never did—like his laziness had been rewritten into razor-sharp aggression. The cursed blade danced in wide arcs, swinging with heavy shockwave trails and bursts of emerald flame that cracked the very air with each slash.
Still, Tenten held her own.
She flipped midair, avoiding a slice of shadow that surged toward her like a serpent. She countered with a spinning downward strike, slashing her fire blade in a circle that forced Dark Shika to duck and retaliate with an upward swipe.
CLASH.
Their blades met again—eye to eye, breath to breath.
"I must admit," Dark Shika murmured, eyes glowing with sadistic joy, "you're more annoying than expected."
Tenten grinned. "I hear that a lot."
They broke apart—only to crash together again. Faster. Harder.
Every move was a test of reflexes and control. Tenten ducked low, swept forward with a twisting double slash, and launched herself into a spinning kick that knocked Dark Shika sideways.
But he caught himself midair, flipped, and sent a shockwave slash screaming toward her.
Tenten blocked with both swords, skidding across the water like a skipping stone.
And then—she moved in again.
For every flame burst he fired, she answered with a flurry of frost. For every downward crush of cursed steel, she rippled upward in a cyclone of chakra-enhanced strikes.
She never stopped moving. Couldn't.
Because the moment she stood still… the shadows came for her.
Dark Shika used them like living traps. They snaked along the ocean's surface, slithering into blind spots. He launched them as tendrils and walls. He even masked his steps with shadow doppelgangers that blurred and confused.
But Tenten was too experienced to fall for cheap tricks.
Well. Almost.
She dodged one too many blasts in a rapid exchange, somersaulted over a shadow spear, and landed just a second too late on a part of the sea that shimmered a little too darkly.
Too late, she realized.
The shadow snapped up around her ankle like a bear trap.
"Oh, come on," she muttered—and then the tendrils rose up like a cage.
They latched around her arms, legs, and torso—twisting and tightening with a grip like cursed iron. She struggled, slashing at them with her blades, but they absorbed the chakra like it was fuel.
Above her, Dark Shika hovered smugly, sword resting on his shoulder like some emo rockstar with a grudge.
"You fought well," he said, in the kind of voice villains used when they thought they were winning. "But you forgot something."
Tenten narrowed her eyes. "Let me guess: 'I am inevitable'?"
"No," he replied, raising his hand. "You're standing in my shadow."
And then he squeezed.
The shadows constricted, and for the first time in the whole fight—Tenten winced.
Naruto, watching from the cliff above, leaned forward with a grimace. "Okay. That looked bad."
Shikamaru's actual consciousness, watching from a sealed corner of his own mind, sighed like someone watching his clone mess up laundry.
"She's not done yet," he muttered. "It's Tenten. She's got at least two more comeback moments before this turns into a real problem."
Back on the battlefield, surrounded and straining, Tenten chuckled under her breath.
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Let's set the scene: Tenten was trapped.
Literally wrapped up in cursed shadows like a discount Halloween mummy, arms pinned, legs tangled, and the water around her bubbling with dark chakra. Somewhere above, Dark Shika hovered like a smug gothic kite with a superiority complex.
If there was a moment to panic, this would've been a strong contender.
But Tenten didn't panic.
Instead, she did what any seasoned weapons master would do in a bind—she stopped relying on brute force and remembered that she had a whole freakin' armory waiting on the beach.
"Alright, buddy," she muttered, letting the First Gate's chakra fade from her system. "Let's see how you like getting blindsided."
She closed her eyes briefly, syncing with the chakra signatures of her weapons—each one marked and connected like an extension of her own spirit.
And then—
BOOM.
A brilliant beam of pure chakra roared across the sea, coming not from her hands, but from the rifles and canons she had tactically left behind. They lit up the sky like laser tag had taken a caffeine overdose.
The blast surged right toward Dark Shika's exposed back.
Cue the surprise twist: He didn't flinch.
"Oh no," Tenten whispered. "He learned."
With a simple flick of his free hand, Dark Shika summoned a shadow barrier—a swirling dome of cursed mist and violet flame—and the blast slammed into it, scattering in sparks and thunder.
"Nice try," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I expected that. What do you think I am, some kind of amateur boss fight?"
Before Tenten could offer her own sarcastic rebuttal (and she had a few very spicy ones lined up), the shadows yanked her down.
Like a villain dragging the hero into the final level of a video game, Dark Shika plunged into the sea, and Tenten went with him—dragged beneath the surface in a swirl of black tendrils.
The ocean was no longer cool and calming—it was cold, dark, and full of angry malevolent sass.
Tenten thrashed, but the shadows tightened, wrapping around her like sea serpents. Her chakra armor flickered and sparked under the pressure, trying to keep the water out.
And then, as if this whole situation wasn't dramatic enough, Dark Shika materialized in front of her underwater. Still smug. Still shadowy. Still looking like someone who would absolutely give a TED Talk titled "Why I'm Better Than You: A Cursed Sword's Journey."
"Well, well," he said, grinning. "Where's all that sass now, hmm? Not so chatty when you're wrapped up like seaweed, are you?"
Tenten blew a stream of bubbles at him and rolled her eyes. Because even underwater, her attitude had depth.
"Honestly," he continued, swimming a lazy circle around her, "you're all bark and sparkly cannons. You think you can tame me? Please. I've devoured warlords, corrupted kings. You're a footnote in my resume. A cute one, maybe, but still."
He stopped in front of her, his glowing sword inches from her face.
"So tell me," he whispered, "who's the weapon now?"
Tenten gave him a deadpan glare that said "I'm going to hit you with a moon if I survive this."
Then something behind her beeped.
Just once.
Then twice.
Then ten times—fast.
Dark Shika frowned. "Wait. What's—?"
From behind him, the canons on the beach began to glow again.
Tenten gave a smug little nod.
Dark Shika blinked. "Oh, come o—"
BOOM.
The ocean lit up like fireworks on a summer night.
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Let's be honest—at this point, everyone knew Tenten was losing.
The battle had started as a proud solo duel against an ancient cursed sword currently joyriding in Shikamaru's body. Epic, right? It was like watching a gladiator fight a demon-possessed strategist armed with depression-flavored fire, emotional shockwaves, and a PhD in sass. You wanted to believe in Tenten. You really did.
But facts were facts. Dark Shika was winning.
Kiba, of course, was pacing at the edge of the beach like a hyperactive wolfdog denied his chew toy.
"C'mon, let me fight him," he said, cracking his knuckles. "I'll show him some real teeth. The sword would totally vibe with my wild side."
"Yeah," Kankuro added, arms crossed. "And I want to test out my new puppets. They're poison-proof, chakra-boosted, and emotionally unavailable—just like me."
But alas, logic (and the unofficial Ninja Bro Code) prevailed.
"She said she wanted to handle it alone," Naruto reminded them, eyes squinting at the dark ocean where Tenten had vanished. "We give her the chance."
Neji, meanwhile, was standing apart—arms folded, eyes glowing, and basically looking like a very annoyed, very betrayed Byakugan boyfriend. His glare could probably make genin cry at fifty meters.
"Don't look at us like that," Kiba muttered under his breath. "We're not the ones dating a human tornado with weapons-grade stubbornness."
Then… a single, ominous bubble rose from the ocean.
Pop.
And came Tenten's very not dead, very annoyed voice—loud and clear, thanks to a water-based chakra communicator they forgot she'd rigged.
"HELP, YOU A**HOLES! I KNOW YOU'RE WATCHING ME DROWN!"
There was a pause.
Then Naruto turned to Gaara and said with the absolute seriousness of a man preparing to punch the moon:
"Tag team?"
"Tag team," Gaara nodded.
BOOM.
In one fluid, superhero-level motion, Naruto controlled the ocean beneath Tenten and Dark Shika, launching them out of the water like a pair of misbehaving dolphins caught in a geyser. Tenten, sopping wet and royally pissed, went soaring through the air like a soggy firework.
Meanwhile, Gaara, the king of the deadpan rescue, summoned his sand and wrapped Dark Shika into a massive sand dumpling, seals glowing around the edges like magical duct tape.
"Tch," the sword snarled from inside the dumpling. "Cowards."
"Creative containment," Gaara said, voice flat as ever. "Not cowardice."
Tenten was still tumbling mid-air when Neji appeared out of nowhere, caught her bridal-style, and landed on a rock ledge like a model for Boyfriend Monthly: Rescue Edition.
He didn't say a word.
He didn't need to.
The look said everything:
"You absolutely should've researched more and asked for help before the part where you almost died. Again."
Tenten, looking like a soaked cat that had been launched by a water cannon and caught by judgmental royalty, huffed.
"Hey," she said, flicking water from her hair. "I know Naruto has a teleportation seal on me. If I was actually dying, he would've poofed me out of there."
From the beach, Naruto waved cheerfully. "She's right! I was watching her vitals the whole time. She had at least 11% health left. That's like… two more hits?"
"Two?!" Neji barked.
Tenten groaned. "You're such a drama queen."
"And you're reckless."
Kiba leaned toward Kankuro. "I give them two months before their wedding is weapon-themed."
"Already shipping it," Kankuro whispered back.
Meanwhile, the sealed Dark Shika was still trying to insult everyone from inside his sand-burrito prison.
"You think this is over? I'll be free again! I'll cut down your mountains! I'll—wait. Is this sealing ink cinnamon-scented? What kind of monster uses cinnamon on a blade of destruction?!"