Masahiko turned around and came face-to-face with an "old acquaintance."
The newcomer had signature medium-long hair of a striking silver-white color. He was tall, standing only half a head shorter than Masahiko. His eyes were narrowed into perpetual smiling slits, giving him an air of kindness that could easily fool the unwary.
But Yagyu Masahiko was not an ordinary person.
"Mizuki-senpai!" Masahiko immediately flashed a flawless, sunny smile, greeting the man with practiced warmth.
The two had a history. Back when Masahiko first graduated, he had interned at the Ninja Academy, nearly staying on as a teacher alongside Iruka and Mizuki. However, plans changed when a high-ranking female superior from the Hokage Building, Inuzuka Akita, recruited him.
Since then, Masahiko and Mizuki remained mere nodding acquaintances. Mizuki's smiles were always exceptionally warm, but beneath that mask, Masahiko could always sense a hint of something foul.
In the adult world, one sees through the facade without pointing it out. Masahiko was happy to maintain the peace, but his internal radar began to beep as Mizuki approached him in the nearly empty training ground at dusk.
Tsk, pretty boy, Mizuki sneered inwardly, jealousy gnawing at him like insects. Just because he has a good face, he gets to work at the Hokage Building while I rot in this crappy school? Does Lady Akita only hire based on looks?
Despite the venom in his heart, Mizuki's smile grew even warmer. "Masahiko-kun, still doing extra training? You truly are diligent."
"Just some casual movement, Senpai," Masahiko chuckled, his eyes inconspicuously scanning the man.
Muscle condition: average. Chakra fluctuations: mediocre. Footwork: unsteady. You've been neglecting your training, Mizuki.
Mizuki's gaze fell on Masahiko's hands. They were slender and smooth, devoid of the calluses one would expect from years of harsh training. The system's physical repair had inadvertently sent Mizuki a false signal.
As I thought, he's just for show, Mizuki felt certain. This was the perfect opportunity to "guide" a junior and humble him.
"Practicing alone against the air is ultimately lacking," Mizuki said, his tone dripping with false goodwill. "Taijutsu requires an opponent to make progress. How about it? Why don't I accompany you for a few rounds? Let's see what you've learned at the Hokage Building."
Masahiko blinked, nearly bursting with joy. It was as if someone had handed him a pillow just as he was getting sleepy.
"Really?" Masahiko's eyes lit up with eager anticipation. "Then I'll have to trouble you for your guidance, Mizuki-senpai!"
[Latest Mission: The Uchiha's Reputation]
[A mere Chunin coasting through life dares to bare his fangs at a noble Uchiha. Use absolute strength to wake this senior up.]
[Reward: Konoha-Style Taijutsu]
"Mizuki-senpai, please guide me!" Masahiko shouted, his aura suddenly shifting as they moved to the center of the grounds.
Mizuki didn't even bother with the usual "you attack first" politeness. Driven by a flare of sudden rage, he lunged forward. Swoosh! He rushed like an arrow, his fist clenched tight, aiming straight for Masahiko's handsome face.
In Mizuki's mind, Masahiko would fall, screaming and clutching his broken nose. But reality had other plans.
Exactly 0.01 seconds before the fist connected, Masahiko tilted his head with an almost lazy grace. The punch whistled past, hitting nothing but air. The momentum sent Mizuki stumbling forward, his balance shattered.
He dodged? A coincidence!
Before Mizuki could recover, Masahiko moved. He didn't use startling speed; he simply raised his foot as if kicking a pebble and nimbly hooked it behind Mizuki's ankle.
Thud!
Mizuki fell flat on his face, planting himself firmly into the sandy soil and kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Senpai?" Masahiko's voice drifted down, filled with a perfect mix of confusion and concern. "Are you okay? Did something on the ground trip you? My apologies, I should have warned you the terrain was uneven."
Mizuki pushed himself up, his face covered in dirt, his eyes reddened with shame. "You...!"
"I was just careless!" Mizuki growled, springing up. This time, he initiated a rapid combination of punches and kicks. Straight punches, side kicks, elbow strikes he poured his Chakra into his movements, creating a whistling wind.
But Masahiko was calm. Even without activating the Sharingan, his enhanced Uchiha bloodline allowed him to perceive Mizuki's movements as if they were in slow motion. He swayed left and right, avoiding every strike by a hair's breadth.
To a bystander, it looked comical: Mizuki was desperately performing a frantic dance of violence, while Masahiko strolled leisurely through the storm, untouched.
"Huff... huff..." Mizuki's stamina faded quickly.
"Senpai, your rhythm is off. Do you want to take a breather?" Masahiko asked kindly.
"Shut up!" Mizuki hissed. He threw a wide, desperate haymaker, putting every ounce of his remaining strength into one strike.
Masahiko sighed. "Senpai, it's easy to hurt yourself like this."
He didn't dodge. He moved after, but arrived first. A simple, straightforward punch met Mizuki's strike.
Slap!
A muffled, wet sound.
Masahiko's fist "imprinted" itself on Mizuki's left cheek. The force sent Mizuki's body spinning 360 degrees before he collapsed onto his butt.
Mizuki sat there, dazed. He felt something foreign in his mouth and spat. Pah! Several bloody fragments of teeth gleamed in the setting sun.
"I'm so sorry, Senpai," Masahiko said, retracting his fist with a look of genuine apology. "I didn't control my strength well. I'll cover the medical expenses. You should head to the hospital immediately."
Mizuki looked at Masahiko's clear, innocent eyes, felt the burning pain in his jaw, and was overcome by a wave of intense fear and shame.
"Wuu..."
Letting out a tearful whimper, Mizuki covered his swelling cheek and ran out of the training ground as fast as his legs could carry him, stumbling into the shadows.
"Mizuki-senpai runs really fast," Masahiko noted, scratching his head.
[Mission Complete: Reward 'Konoha-Style Taijutsu' issued.]
Masahiko claimed the reward. A massive stream of information flooded his mind precise power delivery, muscle coordination, and the combat insights of generations of Konoha masters.
In an instant, his previous understanding of combat felt like a child's brawl. He struck a few stances; his movements were now fluid, natural, and contained a hidden, effortless mastery.
"This system really gives the real deal," Masahiko nodded, feeling the surge of power. He looked toward the horizon where Mizuki had vanished.
"Mizuki-senpai," he murmured with heartfelt gratitude, "you really are a great person. I'll remember this 'sparring' kindness."
Masahiko brushed the dust off his clothes, hummed a tuneless melody, and walked home in a pleasant mood.