The fights continued, and the academy field maintained that constant sense of anticipation, as if each match raised the blood pressure of the spectators a little more. When Choji was called, he stepped forward to face a civilian student—someone without the same training background, without a body conditioned to absorb impact.
As soon as Iruka gave the signal, Choji charged forward. His speed stood out precisely because it contrasted with his weight: it wasn't clumsy, it wasn't slow. It was direct and decisive, as if he had already chosen the shortest path to end the fight. His right fist clenched and came forward in a straight, powerful punch, carrying a clear intent to crush any resistance.
The civilian student realized the difference the instant he saw the attack coming. He didn't try to block. He didn't try to prove his courage. He took a quick step to the side, narrowly dodging it. The movement was instinctive, driven more by fear than calculation, and in the momentum of the dodge, he tried to counter with a punch to Choji's stomach, aiming for what seemed like the easiest place to stop someone that big.
But the counterattack never truly happened.
Choji caught the punch mid-motion with almost humiliating ease, as if grabbing that fist were no harder than holding a child's wrist. For a brief moment, the civilian student didn't seem to understand that he had already lost control of his own attack.
In the next instant, the blow came to his head. Sharp, fast, and decisive. His body gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, dazed, unable to get back up in time to prove anything.
"Choji wins," Iruka announced.
When Choji returned to the group, Ino teased him with a smile that showed more pride than mockery.
"See? Getting beaten up by Naruto almost every day actually paid off."
Choji rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed, as if the compliment had come in the most annoying way possible. He hadn't learned any jutsu yet, but his combat training with Naruto had already changed the basics: his body's stability, his decisiveness when advancing, and his ability to handle a counterattack without freezing.
The next match was between Hinata and Kiba. Kiba still hadn't gotten his dog, and it showed—not just by the absence, but by how he tried to compensate with sheer momentum and aggression. Hinata, on the other hand, activated the *Byakugan* from the very first moment. Her eyes changed, her posture sharpened—and with that, the advantage was hers from the start.
Kiba charged as he always did, impulsively. The first punch came fast… and hit nothing. Hinata dodged with a minimal, clean movement, as if she already knew exactly where he would step. Kiba tried another strike immediately after, even more rushed, and missed again. Then another. And another. His persistence only highlighted the problem: he attacked trying to force a hit, while Hinata responded as if every attack had already been "marked" before it happened.
She didn't look desperate. She simply moved with precision, controlling her space, letting Kiba burn through his energy on his own.
Then, in a moment of opening—a brief instant, but enough—Hinata moved.
The strike to his chest landed cleanly. Kiba felt it immediately: it wasn't ordinary pain, and it wasn't just physical impact. It was as if something inside him had been cut off. The chakra that had been flowing without conscious thought suddenly stopped circulating properly. His body felt heavy for a second, his movements lagged, and the shock in his eyes revealed that he didn't understand what had just happened.
Hinata didn't give him time to process it.
She followed up with two quick strikes, one to each shoulder, and whatever control Kiba tried to regain vanished. With his chakra disrupted and no proper reaction, he was defeated without any real chance to turn the fight around.
After Iruka confirmed the result, Hinata returned calmly, her head slightly lowered, but her eyes fixed on Naruto. He already knew what she wanted. Without saying a word, he began gently patting her head, simple and natural. Hinata closed her eyes, savoring the moment, as if that gesture were a silent reward.
The next fight was between Shino and Shikamaru… and it ended in an unexpected way. Or maybe not.
"I give up." Shikamaru raised both arms, said it without drama, and simply walked away, returning to his place as if he had just finished a regular training session.
The crowd fell silent. No one complained—not because they agreed, but because, in some way, it fit him perfectly. Shikamaru had always been like that.
The silence left by Shikamaru's surrender still lingered over the field when Iruka took a few steps forward, ready to announce the next match. The atmosphere was strange: there was no open frustration, no exaggerated surprise. Just the feeling that things were moving toward something more serious.
Before he could speak, a voice interrupted him.
"Iruka, wait."
Hiruzen stood up. That simple action was enough to draw everyone's attention. The field seemed to shrink slightly, as if the weight of his presence took up more space than it should have. He approached Iruka and whispered something into his ear.
Iruka froze for a moment.
"Are you sure, Hokage-sama?" he asked quietly, concern evident. "Isn't this too much?"
"There's no need to worry," Hiruzen replied calmly. "Nothing will go wrong."
It wasn't a reassuring tone. It was a definitive one.
Iruka took a deep breath, nodded, and returned to his position, now with a different posture. When he spoke, his voice echoed across the field, firm and unquestionable.
"We will now have a special match. Naruto and Sasuke will fight together against the jounin Kakashi."
The announcement hit the field, and for a moment, no one seemed to understand it. Then the noise came in waves: exclamations, nervous laughter, protests, and disbelief all mixed together.
Jounin. It wasn't just a rank. It was a clear line between levels most of them hadn't even dreamed of reaching—and that was exactly why so many started talking at once.
Hiruzen gave a brief nod.
Kakashi walked onto the field with relaxed steps, as if he were merely getting a closer look. His hands stayed in his pockets, his body far too loose for someone who had just been announced as the opponent. His posture didn't radiate direct threat—and precisely because of that, it was unsettling.
Sasuke blinked, caught off guard.
Inside him, two sensations collided almost at the same time. Excitement came first, strong and pulsing. Fighting someone truly powerful was exactly the kind of challenge he had always wanted. Immediately after, irritation followed: fighting *alongside* Naruto.
For a brief moment, those emotions competed. In the end, excitement won.
He started walking toward the field with controlled steps, his expression neutral. Inside, though, he was fired up. This was the kind of challenge that made his blood boil.
Naruto remained still for a few seconds, watching Kakashi.
*I hate it when my instincts are right.*
Only then did he start walking as well.
As he complained internally, Ino's voice echoed from the group, far too loud to ignore.
"Naruto! You have to win, or you're paying for a barbecue for all of us!"
Some laughed. Others repeated the bet, far too excited for people who wouldn't be on the field.
Naruto kept walking without turning his head.
*What kind of person makes a bet using someone else's name…* *especially in a fight between an eight-year-old child and a jounin once considered one of the greatest geniuses in the village.* *Even if I have knowledge and a system… I'm still just human.*
He grumbled internally about Ino's audacity, but as he took his place beside Sasuke, his attention shifted fully back to Kakashi. The jounin kept the same relaxed expression, as if this were just an interesting variation of his routine—and it probably was.
*Should I release a tail?*
The thought came naturally.
At the possibility, Kurama opened her eyes inside him, ears lifting. She would never admit it, but she genuinely liked it when Naruto used her power. Especially against other people.
Naruto pushed the idea to the back of his mind.
"We'll have to coordinate," he said quietly. "If we don't, we'll just be humiliated."
"I don't need your help," Sasuke replied immediately, his tone irritated, almost automatic.
Naruto turned to face him.
"There's nothing wrong with being arrogant," he said calmly, "as long as you have the strength to back it up."
He paused. At that moment, Sasuke finally looked at him properly.
"Arrogance without strength is stupidity. And in a life-or-death fight, stupidity kills."
The words hung in the air for a few seconds, far too heavy for something said by someone their age.
"So we fight in coordination," Naruto finished. "Understood?"
Sasuke looked away. He didn't answer verbally, but gave a small nod, almost imperceptible.
Naruto turned his attention back to Kakashi.
The jounin remained in the same position, as if none of this was enough to make him hurry.
*This is going to be troublesome.*
(Early access chapters: see the bio.)