"Open the Gate of Opening! The Gate of Rest! The Gate of Life! The Gate of Pain open!"
Sasuke roared, veins bulging along his temples as white vapor began to rise from his body. A surge of green energy shimmered faintly around him, alive yet violent, radiating a force that made the air itself tremble.
Without hesitation, he had unleashed the first four gates of the Eight Inner Gates Technique
Instantly, his speed and power skyrocketed. Beneath his skin, raw energy pulsed like a river in flood.
Not giving Itachi even a breath to recover, Sasuke blurred forward like a phantom, the world around him twisting with the sheer force of his momentum. This time, he wouldn't rely on ninjutsu or illusion. He would teach his brother a lesson with his own fists.
His strikes came faster than sight fists, elbows, knees, and kicks intertwined into a storm of ferocity.
Fast. Precise. Merciless.
His fists crashed toward Itachi's face like falling stars. His kicks swung wide and heavy as battle axes. His elbows speared forward like lances, and his knees struck like hammers. Every blow carried terrifying power, splitting the air with shrill, sorrowful cries.
Sasuke had sparred against Naruto since childhood and trained under the legendary taijutsu master Guy. His physical combat skills had long surpassed the level of an ordinary prodigy. Even Lee, with all his dedication to taijutsu, could no longer match him.
At first, Itachi managed to barely keep up, his three-tomoe Sharingan reading Sasuke's movements with impeccable precision. His body shifted at the last possible instant, deflecting strikes with minimal motion, turning major wounds into glancing blows. He even tried to find an opening for a counterattack amidst the storm.
But the moment Sasuke opened the first four gates, the gap between them widened beyond measure.
To Itachi's eyes, Sasuke's movements blurred into afterimages. Each attack seemed to come from three or four angles at once. It wasn't that Sasuke had grown more limbs it was simply that his speed had surpassed the limits of perception.
Itachi's defenses began to crumble. His once-fluid evasion grew sluggish, every parry heavier than the last.
He's even mastered the Eight Gates?
There was a deafening crack as Sasuke's elbow slammed down. Itachi barely crossed his arms in time, but the impact numbed both limbs, forcing him to grit his teeth. In that fleeting instant of weakness, Sasuke's leg lashed out like a coiled serpent, crashing into Itachi's forearms.
A sharp snap echoed across the riverbank.
Itachi's face twisted in pain as the force sent him flying backward, his body crashing through the air toward the shore.
But Itachi was still Itachi. Even as he flew, his mind calculated every angle. He twisted midair, flinging several kunai downward with impossible speed.
The blades whistled through the air and embedded in the ground, wires glinting faintly between them. When Sasuke lunged in pursuit, his fist roaring with lightning, Itachi yanked the wires and propelled himself safely to the side.
Sasuke's punch struck nothing but air. He landed lightly on the water, his gaze calm, lips curving into a cold smile.
Itachi steadied himself on the bank. His breathing quickened; his right arm hung at an unnatural angle, sweat sliding down his temple. The brief exchange had cost him dearly. Against Sasuke's monstrous physical power, he had been thoroughly overwhelmed.
He had been arrogant believing that his younger brother's progress could be measured by his own standards. Without gathering proper intelligence, he had tried to teach Sasuke through battle. That arrogance had nearly broken him.
Itachi exhaled, speaking through the pain. "So, you've been focusing on taijutsu all these years, Sasuke. But you've chosen the wrong path. The pride of the Uchiha clan has never been in brute strength."
To him, Sasuke had strayed far from what made the Uchiha great. Their true might lay in ninjutsu and genjutsu, not reckless physical combat.
But Sasuke's eyes burned cold. "Your narrow vision is exactly what destroyed the clan," he said. "You talk of the Uchiha's pride, yet you never understood what true strength means. You think it lies in illusion? Then I'll show you how fragile your so-called power really is."
A wave of chakra exploded outward from Sasuke. His hair whipped wildly, the river beneath his feet sinking into a deep depression under the pressure. His robes fluttered like banners in a storm.
He clasped his hands together. "Fire Style: Majestic Dragon Flame!"
The dragon that erupted from his mouth wasn't the usual crimson inferno it blazed gold, its light dazzling as molten sunlight. The fire roared with divine heat, so dense it seemed solid, searing the air as it tore toward Itachi.
Itachi's eyes widened. The temperature alone was staggering. He bit through the pain and formed his own seals. "Fire Style: Majestic Dragon Flame!"
Two dragons of fire collided one crimson, one gold. But where Itachi's flames flickered and burned, Sasuke's surged with hurricane-like intensity.
Sasuke's eyes flashed. "Wind Style: Thousand Blades Gale!"
He swung a hand, summoning a sudden gale. The wind fed the golden flames, transforming them into a superheated torrent that devoured Itachi's fire. The golden dragon's jaws tore through Itachi's technique, and the remnants of the inferno surged onward, crashing down upon the shore.
Itachi leapt aside just in time, the heat grazing his back. The riverbank where he had stood moments before melted into a pit of molten glass, glowing like lava. The air shimmered, filled with the stench of scorched earth.
He could no longer afford to underestimate Sasuke. This wasn't the foolish child he had once known.
Even as pain throbbed through his arm, his Sharingan spun faster, catching every twitch of movement, every ripple in the mist. He saw Sasuke's fingers forming another seal Dragon.
"Water Style: Severing Wave!" Sasuke's voice cut through the steam.
A nearly invisible, high-pressure stream of water sliced through the air, sharp enough to cleave steel. Itachi dodged but the stream curved midair, following him like a living blade.
The edge caught several strands of his hair, cutting them cleanly before slicing through the trees behind him, leaving a deep, straight trench in the earth.
Sasuke didn't stop. "Earth Style: Rising Spears!"
The water beneath Itachi's feet solidified, then softened into quicksand. From below, jagged spikes of hardened earth erupted, aiming straight for his vital points.
But Itachi only smiled faintly. His movements were ragged, yet his eyes the cold, analytical red of the Sharingan remained calm, calculating, unshaken.
He had seen enough.
The real battle between brothers was just beginning.
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