The forest was quiet except for steel.
Leaves split where blades had cut too close. The ground beneath them was scarred with shallow gouges. Two figures moved through the clearing fast enough that an untrained eye would lose them in the gaps between trees.
A clone stood somewhere inside the Academy building at that very moment, copying notes, answering questions, maintaining routine.
The real fight was here.
Roen stepped inside Itachi's guard first, kodachi angled tight along his forearm, chakra flowing through the metal in a controlled current. It did not flare. It did not crackle. It thickened the blade, gave it weight at the moment of contact. Itachi's kunai met it cleanly, the impact ringing sharp through the trees.
They separated.
Closed again.
No wasted movement.
Roen drove a diagonal cut meant to split stance and test reaction. Itachi rotated just enough to remove the angle, countering with a short forward thrust that skimmed Roen's ribs. Roen saw it forming before the extension completed; that internal "space" opened narrow, controlled and he adjusted half a breath earlier than he would have weeks ago.
Steel scraped.
Boots dug into damp earth.
Even.
Roen pressed harder.
A burst of chakra ran through his kodachi as he shifted grip and attacked from a tighter line, compressing force into the edge without widening the arc. Itachi blocked and disengaged instantly, kunai flashing in a short upward hook meant to destabilise Roen's wrist. Roen let the blade roll across his guard instead of resisting it and pivoted inside.
Shoulder contact.
Knee feint.
Itachi vanished.
Body Replacement.
The log that replaced him split in two as Roen's blade completed its motion. Heat burst across the clearing an instant later.
"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu."
The flames came fast, not exaggerated, not theatrical dense and direct. Roen didn't retreat in a straight line. He substituted at the last possible instant, appearing above the clearing on a low branch while the ground below scorched black.
He didn't wait.
Two clones burst into existence beside him and launched forward without hesitation, one high, one low. Itachi's eyes sharpened, reading the angles immediately. He flicked three shuriken without turning his body fully, the metal curving in arcs that forced one clone to dispel mid-charge.
The second made it through.
Roen dropped from above at the same time.
Kunai met kodachi in a rapid exchange, steel ringing in tight succession as both adjusted angles faster than before. Roen forced tempo deliberately now, refusing to let the rhythm settle. He stepped inside, out, then inside again, compressing distance until the fight became too close for wide arcs.
Itachi did not panic.
He reduced movement.
That was the difference.
Roen accelerated.
Itachi minimised.
Their blades collided in quick bursts, each contact precise. Roen's chakra flow made his strikes bite heavier than a kunai should withstand, but Itachi's defense wasted nothing. No recoil. No overextension. Every block placed exactly where it needed to be and nowhere else.
Roen's breathing deepened.
He committed.
A low sweep forced Itachi to adjust footing. Roen followed instantly with a rising cut aimed at centerline. Itachi leaned back just enough, the edge passing within inches of his collar before he twisted and countered with a sharp elbow that clipped Roen's jaw.
Roen absorbed it and responded with a short-range thrust that forced Itachi to pivot away entirely.
Razor thin.
Neither had space to breathe.
Shuriken flashed again this time thrown while Itachi retreated, each one angled to redirect Roen's approach rather than hit directly. Roen cut two out of the air and let the third pass by his ear, feeling the wind of it against his skin before closing distance again.
Fire flared briefly at Itachi's palm not another full fireball, just a compressed burst meant to disrupt line of sight. Roen stepped through the heat, eyes already adjusting, blade rising.
Their weapons locked.
For a fraction of a second they were chest to chest, breath mixing, muscles straining. Roen felt the strain building in his frame now not collapse, but limit approaching. His perception still ran ahead, still gave him that narrow margin of choice before impact.
But Itachi didn't need margin.
He needed precision.
Roen broke the lock and rotated outward, attempting to catch Itachi mid-transition.
Itachi was already gone.
A flicker of movement to Roen's blind side not teleportation, not speed beyond comprehension just perfect angle selection at the exact moment Roen committed.
The flat of the kunai tapped Roen's shoulder.
Point.
Roen pivoted immediately and countered with a backhand cut that forced Itachi to block fully this time. The clash rang louder than the rest, both sliding back a step across disturbed earth.
They circled.
Both breathing harder now.
The gap was no longer visible in distance.
It was visible in economy.
Roen moved first more often.
Itachi finished cleaner.
Roen lunged again, pushing past caution, chakra flowing harder through his blade. Itachi intercepted and redirected with a short twist that nearly unbalanced him. Roen caught himself, re-centered, drove forward again
"Enough."
Shisui didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
Roen's kodachi halted a hair's breadth from Itachi's shoulder. Itachi's kunai rested angled near Roen's collarbone. Both breathing hard. Both steady.
Shisui dropped from the branch above and landed lightly between them, hands behind his head like he'd been watching something mildly entertaining.
"You two are going to start breaking bones at this rate," he said. "Save it for when it matters."
Not scolding.
Not serious.
Just mildly amused.
Roen exhaled first and stepped back. Itachi lowered his kunai without a word.
For a few seconds no one spoke. Wind moved through the trees. The smell of scorched bark lingered faintly from the earlier fire technique.
Over the past month, this had become routine.
At first, Itachi had ended things quickly. Clean counters. Short exchanges. Roen adjusting afterward.
Then the fights stretched.
Roen began forcing longer sequences, pushing tempo, finding angles earlier.
Some days Itachi would edge it out.
Some days Roen would.
Lately
Neither could clearly take the other.
Not without pushing harder than either of them really intended to.
The gap that had once been obvious had thinned until it stopped being a gap at all.
Shisui stretched his arms once and glanced at the sky.
"You done trying to kill each other?"
Itachi turned away first.
Roen sheathed his kodachi.
Shisui hopped back onto a low branch and pulled a small cloth bundle from inside his jacket. He tossed it down between them.
"Brought food," he said casually. "Since you two forget that exists."
Roen caught it before it hit the dirt.
Inside were simple rice balls, wrapped tight.
Itachi sat first, back against a tree trunk. Shisui dropped beside him without ceremony. Roen took the opposite side, knees drawn up slightly, breath finally settling.
No one mentioned the spar.
Shisui started talking about something trivial a rumor about a new instructor being strict, some clan dispute he'd overheard, something half-serious and half-teasing.
Itachi listened.
Roen listened.
The clearing, moments ago torn up from steel and fire, felt normal again.
They weren't enemies.
They weren't rivals in some dramatic sense.
They were just training.
And over the past month, without any of them saying it aloud, they had grown into each other's level.
The distance between them had thinned.
But the last movement still decided everything.
And neither intended to give it up.
The forest settled fully as they ate, the earlier intensity dissolving into something quieter the kind of quiet that only exists between people who push each other and know it.
Tomorrow, they would spar again.
And it would start even.