Chapter 7

  +Sasuke Uchiha+

  Both of us were standing in an underground room under the tower. There were several thick stone pilrs scattered around, making the pce feel more like a forest clearing turned battlefield than a normal ft and empty training ground. Shadows stretched long between them from the dim overhead lights.

  Not that the yout mattered much, Kakashi still looked exactly like his usual zy self, slouching a little with his hands in his pockets, head tilted as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

  The only good news was that he hadn’t pulled out his Icha Icha book to read right in front of me. At least that meant he wasn’t going to be a complete insufferable bastard… or so I hoped.

  “Are you going to stand there all day? I have far more important things to do than babysit you,” Kakashi said, voice ft and bored.

  And here I was thinking he wasn’t going to be an insufferable bastard. Clearly, I’d been wrong.

  “Like what? Reading your smut book or getting lost on the way to life?” I shot back sarcastically, already letting chakra flood through my body in a warm rush. I bounced lightly on the balls of my feet, shaking off the stiffness from the hospital bed and getting the feel of battle back into my limbs.

  “You’re too young to understand the depths of that literature,” Kakashi replied with that same infuriating eye-smile, the corner crinkling just enough to show he was enjoying this. “Maybe you’ll see the beauty in a few years. At least if you have the capacity to understand them.”

  I didn’t bother replying. Bantering with him wasn’t worth the breath. Instead, I gave him a long, disdainful look that said everything I needed to about his so-called literature. Then I channelled chakra straight to my eyes.

  The world changed in an instant.

  Everything sharpened, colours brighter, edges crisper, every tiny movement stretched out like it was moving through water. And because of that new crity, because of how fast I could analyse things now, I caught the tiny twitch at the corner of Kakashi’s visible eye when he saw mine.

  My Sharingan wasn’t the single tomoe anymore. Both eyes had three tomoe spinning slowly, locked and ready.

  Not caring about his surprise, I moved. Several shuriken left my hands in a smooth arc, thrown at different angles to cover his possible dodges. The next heartbeat, even faster, several kunai followed, timed to intercept any counters.

  Cng cng cng

  Boom boom boom

  Metal rang against metal as every shuriken and kunai changed direction mid-flight, ricocheting off each other in a controlled storm. Mixed in among them were a handful of smoke bombs that detonated right in front of him with sharp pops, thick grey clouds blooming instantly and swallowing his line of sight.

  I vanished from my spot with a Shunshin the moment the smoke rose, two kunai already gripped tight in my hands. The rush of air tugged at my hair as I closed the distance fast, aiming straight for his blind side.

  I knew it wouldn’t catch someone like Kakashi off guard. Not really.

  Ting!

  The csh of metal was louder than before, sharp and ringing, as Kakashi intercepted both my kunai with his own, one in each hand. His visible eye wasn’t zy anymore; it was focused, serious, the usual boredom gone. He’d taken me seriously enough to draw two weapons instead of pying defence with just one.

  I smiled, and we dove straight into it.

  Sparks flew as our kunai cshed again and again, the rhythm building fast. Taijutsu flowed into bukijutsu without pause, quick jabs, feints, blocks, sshes, all of it blending together as I pushed my three-tomoe Sharingan to its limit.

  Every twitch of his shoulder, every weight shift, every flicker of intent, I read it, predicted it, moved to meet it. I tested the insight, the predictive edge, throwing everything I had at him to see how far it could take me.

  Even then, I could tell my physical ability wasn’t quite there yet to make full use of what the Sharingan showed me. Kakashi left openings, deliberate ones, like he was testing how well I could spot them. But every time I tried to exploit one, there was a trap waiting: a subtle shift that would turn my momentum against me, a feint hidden inside the bait.

  My body just wasn’t fast enough or strong enough yet to capitalise without getting punished.

  Cng!

  We met dead centre, weapons locked, faces inches apart. My two spinning Sharingan eyes stared straight into his single bck one. I still wasn’t good enough to force him to uncover the Sharingan under the headband. I didn’t know any genjutsu to cast through my eyes anyway, so that avenue was closed for now.

  The longer we cshed, the more I copied his footwork, the angle of his wrist flicks, the way he timed his deflections. And Kakashi, being the teacher he actually was under all that ziness, didn’t get angry at the btant mimicry.

  Instead, he fed me more: showing me how to be more precise with my strikes, when it was smarter to dodge instead of block, when to parry to create an opening rather than just deflect.

  He even demonstrated small shifts, how a slight twist of the hips or a change in grip could turn an enemy’s strength against them, or how they could use my own aggression to set a trap.

  By the end, the spar had stopped feeling like a fight and started feeling like an extended training session. Sweat dripped down my back, my arms burned from the constant cshes, but every exchange left me sharper, more aware. Kakashi had turned it into a lesson without ever saying the word “lesson.”

  Safe to say the spar-turned-training session went far better than I’d hoped for. I was breathing hard, but the rusty feeling was gone, repced by that clean, focused burn you only get when you’ve pushed right to the edge and come back a little better.

  +Kakashi Hatake+

  “Kakashi-sensei, is Sasuke going to be alright?” Sakura asked, her voice small, green eyes wide with that familiar mix of worry and determination.

  Kakashi turned to look at his only female student. The concern on her face wasn’t hard to read; he’d already heard the full report of what happened in the Forest of Death from her. The Curse Seal fring, the blood tears, the way Sasuke had fought like something inside him was tearing him apart. Sakura had seen it all up close. No wonder she looked like she hadn’t slept properly in days.

  He reached out and gave her head a light pat, deliberately ruffling her short pink hair until a few strands stuck up at odd angles. She blinked in surprise, cheeks flushing a little as the worried frown slipped for a second.

  “Don’t worry,” he said gently, letting his voice carry just enough for both of his students to hear. “It’ll be alright.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Naruto trying and failing to look like he wasn’t listening. The blond was leaning against the railing a few metres away, arms crossed, staring very intently at the digital monitor above the arena where the names were dispyed in bright white letters. His foot tapped restlessly against the stone floor, giving him away completely.

  Sasuke Uchiha VS Yoroi Akado

  Down in the arena below, the two competitors stood facing each other across the wide stone floor. Sasuke looked rexed, shoulders loose, hands hanging casually at his sides, dark eyes calm.

  Yoroi, on the other hand, stood rigid, gloved hands flexing slightly as he adjusted his stance. Hayate Gekkō stood between them, hand already raised to signal the start.

  “It seems I will have the chance to see the power of the Uchiha,” Yoroi said, voice low and confident as he cracked his knuckles through the gloves.

  Sasuke’s lips curved into a small, sharp smirk. “Hope you can keep up long enough to enjoy it, then.”

  Kakashi had to admit that was exactly what had been missing from their earlier spar. The edge, the quiet arrogance, the fire that was pure Sasuke Uchiha. Not the calm and calcuting eyes dissecting every movement. Seeing it back felt… reassuring, in a strange way.

  ‘Still,’ Kakashi thought, eye narrowing slightly, ‘was our spar not enough to convince Hokage-sama that Sasuke won’t use the Curse Seal? Or is this just a way to make sure he’s guaranteed a spot in the finals?’

  He knew how the match-making really worked in these preliminaries. “Fair” was a flexible word when the Hokage or the examiners wanted someone to advance without risking an early elimination. Not that Kakashi minded. If it kept Sasuke safe from temptation and kept Orochimaru’s little gift from seeing daylight again, he wasn’t about to compin.

  His musing cut off as Hayate’s hand dropped.

  “Begin!”

  The match started exactly the way Sasuke had opened against him underground: fast, ruthless, no hesitation.

  Several shuriken left Sasuke’s pouch in a smooth flick of his wrist, arcing out at different angles to box Yoroi in. Kunai followed a heartbeat ter, whistling through the air. Smoke bombs detonated mid-flight with sharp pops, thick grey clouds blooming instantly and swallowing the centre of the arena.

  Everything happened so quickly that Kakashi was certain Yoroi hadn’t even registered the first kunai before two more smmed into the fronts of his thighs, one in each leg. The impact drove him down to one knee with a choked grunt, blood already soaking through the dark fabric of his trousers. His mobility was gone in an instant.

  ‘Good thing he didn’t go overboard,’ Kakashi noted silently. Most of the thrown weapons hadn’t hit flesh; Sasuke had aimed for disabling, not killing.

  'Good.'

  What impressed him most, though, was that Sasuke hadn’t even bothered opening his Sharingan. No red glow, no spinning tomoe. He’d done it all on pure instinct, speed, and precision.

  Sasuke stepped forward through the thinning smoke, another kunai banced loosely between his fingers. He flicked it casually, edge-grazing Yoroi’s cheek just enough to draw a thin line of blood that trickled down slowly.

  “Give up,” Sasuke said, voice ft and cold.

  Yoroi’s eyes widened, breath coming in short, pained bursts. He looked from the kunai at his feet to the Uchiha standing over him, then to Hayate.

  Hayate coughed once into his sleeve, then raised his hand.

  “Winner: Sasuke Uchiha of Konoha.”

  The words echoed through the arena. A low murmur rippled through the stands, some impressed, some disappointed at how fast it ended, others already whispering about how it was expected of the Uchiha prodigy.

  Up on the balcony, Sakura let out a long breath she’d clearly been holding, shoulders dropping in visible relief. Naruto pumped a fist, a grin splitting his face even though he tried to py it cool a second ter.

  Kakashi just watched Sasuke walk off the arena floor without a backward gnce, hands back in his pockets now, expression calm again.

  ‘Not bad,’ he thought, the corner of his eye crinkling under the mask. ‘Not bad at all.’