Might Guy vaulted into the arena with a flawless somersault, landing in a crouch that radiated confidence. His wild grin and gleaming eyes told everyone in the stands exactly what was coming: unrelenting taijutsu.
Obito Uchiha had no choice but to step forward. He knew the odds were against him—Guy was already infamous at the Academy for his brutal stamina and tireless training habits. Still, Obito clenched his fists and reminded himself that backing down wasn't the Uchiha way. He would fight with everything he had.
"Konoha Whirlwind!" Guy launched a ferocious roundhouse.
Obito barely raised his arms in time. The impact rattled his bones.
"Konoha Great Cyclone!" The next strike came harder, faster, forcing Obito across the dirt.
"Konoha Gourami Whirlwind!" A dizzying spin kicked the wind from Obito's chest before he even registered the movement.
The crowd gasped. Guy never relented, chaining each technique together in a storm of motion. Obito's ninjutsu openings were smothered before he could even weave half a seal. His taijutsu couldn't match Guy's rhythm. After three consecutive strikes hurled him backward, Obito collapsed into the dirt, coughing.
The referee signaled the end.
Obito had lost, but he had fought with grit. He forced a tired grin, even as disappointment carved lines across his face.
"…Lost again…" he muttered.
Before the shame could hollow him further, Rin ran from the sidelines. She crouched beside him with a warm smile. "It's okay, Obito. I can tell you gave it everything you had."
Her words lightened the heaviness in his chest.
Kakashi strolled past with his usual sharp-eyed calm, but this time his voice carried a different weight. "Obito… next time you lose to him, I won't forgive you."
Though it sounded cold, Obito caught the underlying warmth, and his heart steadied.
From the stands, Kusuo Hatake leaned to Shigure. His tone held quiet amusement. "Hmph. Seems Kakashi's really starting to change… thanks to you, Shigure."
Shigure chuckled. "If it weren't for Sakumo-sensei nudging me, I wouldn't even bother. Your Hatake clan really is interesting. You all care deeply, but choose the strangest ways to show it."
He glanced at Kusuo, eyes narrowing. "And haven't you noticed? You've changed too."
"…Yeah." Kusuo's lips tugged faintly, but his gaze turned distant, as though weighing truths he had never acknowledged before.
The tournament drew onward. Sakumo Hatake, watching with folded arms, barked for the lots to be drawn again.
"Nara Kazu," the examiner called, "versus Shiranui Genma!"
This match ended swiftly. The whip-smart shadow jutsu of the Nara heir immobilized Genma before the latter could even draw a kunai. With clinical efficiency, Kazu tightened his shadows and forced Genma into surrender.
The crowd murmured lightly—it had been too easy.
Another round of drawings began. When Sakumo glanced at the slip this time, his sharp eyes betrayed a flicker of intrigue.
"Oh…" Obito leaned forward in surprise. "It's them?"
"Kakashi! Do your best!" Rin called, clasping her hands.
"Don't lose, Kusuo," Shigure added evenly.
Red-haired Akane Hyūga—so often excitable—fist-pumped with earnest intensity. "Crush him, Kusuo! Show Kakashi what you've got!"
Kakashi stepped down casually, head tilted. His mask, as always, concealed any hint of nerves. Kusuo followed, his own mask mirroring the resemblance—two Hatake cousins, both swordsmen, both burdened by legacy.
One carried the white blade of legend. The other, the gray fang handed down as a shadowed compliment.
Sakumo's gaze sharpened. His sons of bloodline and name now stood ready to face each other on the field.
"You two," he called firmly. "Whatever happens, don't disgrace the Hatake name. Begin!"
At the signal, the cousins moved with identical swiftness, unsheathing their short swords in unison. White Fang clashed with Gray Fang in a deafening ring that echoed through the training grounds.
Steel sparked. Sand scattered beneath their footwork as both launched into a furious exchange of strikes—slashes, feints, and counters that mirrored one another like reflections in water.
Sakumo occasionally nodded in approval, then shook his head in disapproval, his eyes alive as he watched his clan's secret kenjutsu dance on display.
In the crowd, Shigure's Byakugan activated silently. Every stance, every angle, every momentum shift was absorbed into his memory. His eyes copied, analyzed, and learned.
After dozens of furious exchanges, Kusuo's breathing faltered. His smaller frame shuddered under the relentless duel. Kakashi, slightly older and already a Chūnin, pressed the advantage.
"Sorry, Kusuo," Kakashi warned, sliding forward in a swift maneuver. "I'll end it here—Locust!"
Gray eyes widened. Kakashi's strike threw Kusuo off balance, a kick launched him sprawling, and White Fang cracked against his cousin's ribs. Dust billowed as Kusuo hit the dirt hard, blood soaking into his tunic.
"Kusuo!" Obito shouted, rising to his feet.
The boy twitched, forcing trembling hands beneath him. Slowly, painfully, he dragged himself upright. His mask tilted upward, eyes blazing defiantly.
"I… can still go on."
His words made the crowd fall silent. Even Kakashi froze.
But Kusuo staggered forward again, Gray Fang gripped until his knuckles whitened. His strikes lacked strength, yet willpower drove his body through despair. Kakashi disarmed him once more, knocking him heavily down.
From the sidelines, Rin cried, "That's enough! He can't take anymore!"
Obito clenched the railing. "Kusuo—stop it already!"
Even Shigure exhaled and muttered, "Why is he pushing himself this far…?"
Yet Kusuo staggered up again and pressed his palms together in an unsteady seal. His voice shook, yet carried to every corner of the training ground.
"Kakashi… Shigure said you've changed. He said I've changed, too. At first, I believed only in my own strength. I thought pride alone would take me anywhere. But he made me realize… there are always people beyond you. Stronger people." His chest heaved, but determination poured from his expression.
"Our squad—me, him, and Akane—we were supposed to be equals. But I could never stop seeing Shigure ahead of me, always so far to catch. Even you, Kakashi, Konoha's genius, were beaten by him. So how—how could I allow myself to fall here?! I must surpass you first. Only then can I surpass him!"
Kakashi's single exposed eye widened slightly.
"I'll show you the move I created!" Kusuo roared. Chakra surged, rattling the dirt. For a boy his age, his hand seals formed with startling sharpness.
"Impossible…" Kakashi thought grimly. "His chakra was drained moments ago. How does he still stand—?"
"Wind Style: Breakthrough!" Kusuo expelled a rushing gale, sweeping the field in blasting dust. Kakashi shielded his face.
Through the storm, Kusuo charged, Gray Fang coated in visible chakra. The blade whistled as it caught the slicing edge of wind itself.
"Secret Technique: Gray Swiftness!"
Hatake Gray Fang gleamed—transformed into a weapon sharper than steel by Kusuo's own wind affinity.
Kakashi narrowed his stance. White Fang went alight with pure chakra, vibrating with lethal intensity.
"Ultimate Technique: White Light Blade!"
They clashed.
The collision carved a pit into the earth, a deafening ring ripping outward in a wave of grit and gale. Students shielded their eyes, gasping at the raw destructive power.
"So strong!" someone exclaimed.
Shigure's brows furrowed. "That thrust… it's sharper than I expected. Kusuo's been hiding this technique all along."
When the dust cleared, two figures stood back-to-back, motionless.
The silver-haired boy said quietly, "Kusuo… you've gotten stronger."
The gray-haired boy answered, voice cracking but proud, "You too… cousin."
Then, sharing a faint laugh, both collapsed at the exact same moment.
The arena fell into shocked silence.
--
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