Clashing Blades

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Witchblade

Speaking Normally

Thoughts

Demonic/Possessed/Transformed Voice

Chapter 1, Drawing The Sword

Cleaning the juices from his blade, he paid little notice to the late arrival. "You're late." The transformed Masane looked back and forth between him and the obviously dead X-Con.

He'd defeated it?

He would have to be strong… She could feel it now. Power oozed off him. If anything, her battle lust increased. Exponentially. "Are you the one?" she cooed, licking her lips suggestively.

Blade sheathed, he cocked his head to the side. Her expression was all thirty-two flavors of crazy. Whether or not she would have elucidated, potential answers were foregone when she threw herself at him, a long-blade sprouting from her forearm, her face adorned by a predatory grin.

Fight (One-sided)

The semi-possessed Masane panted from the exertion. It had to have been going on ten or so minutes and she had yet to even touch him. At the same time, he did little more than deflect her attacks, dodging. Her gold on black eyes gleamed happily. Triumphantly.

"C'mon, just let me cut you a little," she cooed, gold and black eyes gleaming.

Feigning shock, "What? I'm not that easy," he countered playfully. "It's dinner, first, and a two drink minimum before we get that far."

The witchblade wasn't annoyed at all by his banter. In fact, it only grew more intrigued.

She'd found him! Countless centuries, innumerable lives. Finally.

She could feel his power. That which he radiated, and the far greater amount that he held back. More, she felt the strength of his very being. Finally, someone stronger. Someone…..worthy.

And she could see it in his eyes, too. Like her, he was enjoying the fight.

"At last," she mewled breathily, barely able to hold off a lazy attack probing her defenses. "I've been waiting for someone like you, someone strong, for a very long time."

Eyebrow quirking beneath his hair, "I'm flattered?"

Freeing her left from supporting her bladed right arm, she made as if to strike him. Only, he intercepted the feeble attack with his own opposing hand.

She grinned.

He should have known better.

It was an Anko-like grin.

The metal armor scantily covering her bare form shot out a metallic tentacle to encircle his forearm. The man's blue eyes grew noticeably larger in alarm.

But there was no attack. Covering his forearm, the tentacle broke off from the source. "What in Hades?" he yelped, jumping back and away her, staring at his arm.

Already, he could feel a searing pain pulsing from his arm, as if the metal wrapping were red hot. Ignoring the pain, yet still clutching his arm, he continued to back away. This was an unknown. This wasn't like the Elementals, drawing on too much power would get him noticed. Better to retreat for now.

Slipping to the side, he blurred away mid-step, leaving only a quiet "Not over."

Sighing in deep seated satisfaction, the Witchblade-possessed beauty regarded the now empty spot. "Of course not," she purred hungrily. "It's only beginning…for us…my king." She shivered in anticipation, hoping that he was indeed…the one.

He was a stumbling wreck by the time he made it to the safe-house. He felt like crap. What worried him though, was that, being what he was, he didn't get sick.

There was no telling what the fuck was on his wrist, but he wasn't about to let go of the possibility of being tracked. Mind hazy, he shuffled tiredly over to the worn couch before collapsing lifelessly onto it.

While he slept, the metal encasing his arm visibly began to glow. Radiant energy caressing flash, it oozed over him.

Frowning in his sleep from some unknown discomfort, sweat drenched him. The strange energy reached the halfway point of covering his body when it began radiating energy of its own. Chakra. A calming pale blue-white. The two opposing energies fought over territory until, after a time, they began swirling together, working as one.

The mass of metal on his arm, once the leftover bit of a tentacle, reshaped, spreading out until it took the shape of a manacle, reaching halfway from his wrist to his elbow. Wholly silver, tribal-like markings were etched into its surface. Its transformation finished, both energies receded, each bearing a touch of the other.

Across town, in the newly acquired apartment of Masane and Rihoko Amaha, Masane shifted in her sleep. On her wrist, the bejeweled silver bracelet pulsed. It could sense it now. Success. The Witchblade's equal walked the Earth. The bracelet hummed in excitement.

Both individuals shared similar visions throughout the night, though neither was aware that the other was more than just a figment of their own imaginations.

Sure, they weren't…suggestive dreams, but they were still enough to instill some feelings.

Rolling off the couch, the hard floor brought him back to consciousness. Clutching his throbbing skull, he staggered upright, barely remembering where he was, and why. Tripping over himself to the bathroom, he disrobed as he went. Pulling the shower curtain aside, he froze when his blurred eyes caught sight of the ornament adorning his wrist.

"What the fuck?" he grumbled, wondering if he was seeing things.

Munching breakfast, he glared at the band on his arm. He'd tried everything short of a Rasengan and dismemberment to get it off. Nothing. Not a scratch. Nor did it budge. He briefly revisited the thought of amputation, but gave up on it. He'd never actually tested the extent of his healing that much. So he'd leave it alone…for now.

Who was that woman anyway? She reminded him of one Anko Mitarashi…which could be a good thing or a bad thing. Well…so long as she wasn't into bondage.

Timeskip

Walking through a dark alley. Cliché. Bad idea…right? Maybe for the poor schmucks trying to jump him. Four greasy looking punks, again, really cliché, had closed in on him from either end of the shortcut.

One of them exploding out of his skin? Not so expected.

"So, it's you," the mass of metal hummed, dropping the slashed remains of its now dead comrades. "You're the one…making my blood boil!"

The blonde man groaned. Great, another one. How annoying. No weapon on hand, so… Sighing, he rolled up his sleeves. Time to do it the fun way.

As if in response to that very thought…the strange band on his arm pulsed, warming ever slightly. Eying it, the metal uncoiled, stretching and wrapping around his hand in the form of a gauntlet, then going all the up to his shoulder. Experimentally flexing his hand, he marveled, though confused, at this…transformation. In further response to his thoughts, a long, slender katana-like blade sprouted from the wrist. Forming a hilt, it broke away for him to grip. "Interesting," he pondered, examining the blade. He could sense the leaking of his chakra into the band, and through it the armor and blade. Reconsidering the X-Con, he ignored the mechano-man's ranting. "Sorry, looks like you're small game."

The X-Con fell apart in bloody chunks.

Turning from the morbid scene, he walked away. The armor and sword retracted, receding back into what he considered the initial form. Holding up his arm, he sent a critical glare at it. "I still don't know anything about you… We need to work on our communication."

An open book in his lap, his breathing was shallow as he dozed on the couch. As he'd hoped, as of yet, the evening seemed fairly uneventful. Though somewhat enlightening.

Sensing out the familiar, strange energy signature of the woman who'd slapped the trinket on him, he'd come to some interesting conclusions.

Keeping his distance, he observed her.

It was absolutely ludicrous! The woman was almost a polar opposite of the one he had faced. And yet…it was her. More likely than not, it had something to do with the odd, intricately wrought metal bracelet on her right wrist. Judging from how she regarded the bracelet, she was aware of its power.

Just being this close, his own band hummed, a light vibration of singing metal. It took extraordinary concentration of will to ease it back into silence, but he was adamant in his stealth.

She had a daughter, too. He smiled a little at their interaction. The woman acted like a child, and the child as if she was the adult. It was amusing.

Anyway, he'd hoped for an easy afternoon of lazing.

No such luck.

The band on his arm warmed. Just enough to notice.

Blue eyes opened, blinking away sleep. What now? Looking to the odd ornament… It was an insistent tugging in his mind, wanting him to go somewhere. As for the where…he felt a few notable energy signatures, one of which was familiar. That woman… Was she why the bracelet wanted to go? He already had an inkling, but the questions remained.

Book closed, he swung his legs off and stood up from the couch. As if sensing his intent, his acquiescence, the band again warmed, humming with what was most likely excitement. It unraveled into a gauntlet, then up his arm. Unlike earlier in the alley, it didn't stop there. The armor spread over his body. Interlocking plates cascaded down his chest and abdomen, moderately covering his crotch so as not to hinder movement, and down his legs. His back was less armored, but a metallic spine provided a good deal of protection. Creeping up his neck, feeling more like cloth than metal, it ended just barely covering his jaw line up to his ears, a portion covering the back of his skull. The last of the process was when, above his eyes and below, on either side, matching plates came across to meet in a modest helm hugging his head and face. Blue eyes glowed a ghostly silver, heightening the effect.

"Hunh,"he mumbled with a metallic distortion.

This armor, the…metal…was surprisingly flexible, but strong. Nor was it bulky. In fact, it was surprising how little it hindered his movement. Again, he sensed his chakra's influence. It was freely intermingling with the odd energy within the band.

But… "Not yet," he chastised. The armor retreated, but he could sense the hair trigger.

Later.

For now…

In seconds, he was atop the various roofs, leaping toward his unknown destination.

Earlier:

Masane lay on the edge of the mattress. Smiling fondly down at the sleeping Rihoko, she caringly stroked the little girl's hair. "Riko, we finally have a place to call our own."

'Vbbb'

Pulling away from her adoptive daughter, she retrieved an odd phone from beside her. Her "boss" had given it to her to stay in contact and let her know about missions. Truthfully, the cell phone looked like a tricked out walkie talkie. Clicking it on, she brought the device to her ear. "Yes?" An urgent voice immediately rang over the speaker.

"This is Ota, with the retrieval unit. We've just spotted an X-Con."

Masane frowned, but, looking to the sleeping Riko, she reminded herself of wy she needed this work. "I'm on my way." Leaning across, she kissed her daughter on the head. "I'll be right back now."

AN/ Short, for now, but will be longer in the future. This is just to see if anyone's interested.