"Suzuki Tanaka..."
Standing on the opposite end of the dusty sparring ring, Sasuke Uchiha muttered the name under his breath. His dark eyes narrowed as he observed the boy who had always been a quiet enigma in his eyes.
Frankly, in Sasuke's mind, almost every single student in this academy was utter trash. They were either a horde of annoyingly loud fangirls, lazy slackers like Shikamaru, or completely incompetent, loudmouthed bastards like Naruto.
What about Shino Aburame, the highly talented insect user? Strangely enough, Shino's presence was so incredibly low that Sasuke usually just forgot he existed entirely.
However, Suzuki was a different breed. Despite his thoroughly unimpressive civilian bloodline and orphan status, he was undeniably brighter and more capable than anyone else in their graduating class. What irritated Sasuke the most, however, was the rumor that this civilian had perfectly mastered the Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique.
Hmph. A civilian dares to parade around a Fire jutsu in front of an Uchiha? Sasuke thought, his grip tightening. Let me show you what true fire looks like.
The Uchiha clan was historically the true master of Fire Release. For a mere civilian to think he was a genius just because he learned a single C-Rank technique was laughable. Sasuke intended to burn that arrogance away.
Surprisingly, the two of them had never actually faced off in a spar during their entire six years at the Academy. Today, the day before their final graduation exam, was their first and only sanctioned duel.
Sasuke knew Suzuki would graduate. The boy's foundation was rock solid, and his written test scores were flawless. But becoming a standard, run-of-the-mill Genin and becoming the absolute strongest were two entirely different realities. More importantly, the weight of the destiny they carried was on a completely different level!
"Hmph!" Sasuke scoffed aloud, crossing his arms.
"....."
Suzuki stood across the ring, completely relaxed. He wasn't entirely sure what edgy, dramatic monologue was currently running through Sasuke's head, but he was honestly just glad he had avoided fighting the Uchiha prodigy for six straight years.
Sasuke was an Avenger. His entire clan had been violently butchered by his own older brother right in front of his eyes. Honestly, Suzuki felt that it was a psychological miracle Sasuke hadn't gone completely, violently insane.
Fortunately, my background is boringly normal, Suzuki mused silently.
If Suzuki had been born into the Uchiha clan, he would have been forced to deal with a family of emotionally unstable psychopaths, constant political assassination attempts, and the crushing expectation to sacrifice his life for the village.
Damn, what is actually wrong with this world?
Did he really have to become a disposable military tool that the village would simply discard the moment he was broken?
Suzuki absolutely refused to live that way. He knew he had to rise step-by-step, fundamentally weaving himself into the village's infrastructure until he became so economically and socially essential that it was politically impossible to kill him.
He didn't seek to become a god of shinobi like Hashirama or Madara. He wanted to become the equivalent of a modern, monopolized megacorporation. He wanted to be too big to fail. Even if he caused a mess, the village would have to bail him out because his collapse would crash their economy.
He wanted to be the absolute master of logistics. The man who handled all the boring, vital supply chains. If he disappeared, the hospitals would run out of supplies, the restaurants would freeze, and the economy would stall. But to reach that untouchable administrative position, he needed to graduate with top honors. He needed to show his investors—namely, the Third Hokage—that he was worth protecting.
"Are you ready, Tanaka-kun?" Iruka Umino asked, looking at one of his most reliable students.
"Yes, Sensei," Suzuki nodded politely.
"Good. What about you, Sasuke?"
"Just start the match already," Sasuke demanded coldly.
"Alright, alright. Standard sparring rules apply," Iruka raised his hand, looking between the two cautiously before slashing his arm down. "Start!"
The moment the match began, Sasuke didn't hesitate. He immediately planted his feet, brought his hands to his chest, and began rapidly weaving hand signs. Tiger, Monkey, Boar, Horse...
Suzuki just stared at him, completely speechless.
Really? Suzuki thought, sighing inwardly. Who in their right mind stands completely still to weave a five-second jutsu in the middle of an open field?
He absolutely refused to play by Sasuke's dramatic, anime-paced rules.
While Sasuke was drawing breath to unleash his Great Fireball, Suzuki simply flicked his wrist. There was no grand stance, no shouting, and no wasted kinetic energy. Guided by the Manager's instant trajectory optimization, Suzuki threw a single, perfectly aimed kunai directly at Sasuke's sternum.
Swooosh!
The blade tore through the wind with lethal precision. Sasuke's eyes widened. He was forced to choke on his gathered chakra, violently aborting his jutsu to throw himself out of the way.
"Shit!" Sasuke cursed, stumbling as he dodged.
But Suzuki wasn't standing still. The exact millisecond Sasuke committed to his dodge, Suzuki had already completed his own hand signs—utilizing the flawless muscle memory the Manager had just downloaded into his nervous system.
BOOOOOOOOOOMM!
A massive, roaring sphere of superheated fire erupted from Suzuki's lips, rocketing directly toward the exact patch of dirt Sasuke was dodging into.
The casting speed was terrifying. The sheer, radiating heat instantly blistered the air, forcing the spectating students to take a frightened step back from the ring.
"So hot!" Ino shielded her face, her eyes wide in shock.
The entire class—and secretly, the Hokage watching through his crystal ball—were utterly dumbfounded by how effortless Suzuki's fighting style was.
There was absolutely zero nonsense. He didn't dramatically shout the name of his technique to warn his enemy. In just two precise, calculated moves, he had completely cornered the Uchiha prodigy and practically guaranteed a lethal hit!
No way...
Sasuke stared at the incoming wall of fire. An icy, paralyzing sweat broke out across his skin. His mind roared in sheer denial.
Am I going to be defeated like this?! By a civilian nobody?! What about Itachi?! What about my revenge?!
"DON'T YOU KID WITH ME!"
Sasuke screamed, his intense, desperate pride violently forcing his dormant chakra to mutate. A sharp pain pierced his optic nerves. His irises bled into a brilliant, glowing crimson, a single black tomoe spinning wildly in each eye.
He had awakened the Sharingan!
"Those eyes...!" Iruka gasped, stepping forward to intervene.
But Sasuke was suddenly flooded with a euphoric, hyper-perceptive high. The world slowed down. The roaring flames, the dust in the air—he could see the exact kinetic flow of everything!
Everything! I can see it all!
Just as Suzuki's fireball slammed into the dirt, incinerating a massive chunk of the ring, a sharp poof of white smoke erupted. Sasuke had flawlessly executed a Substitution Jutsu at the absolute last microsecond.
Reappearing high in the air above the smoke, Sasuke spun, unleashing a rapid barrage of shuriken and kunai.
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
The projectiles were aimed flawlessly at Suzuki's vital points. Yet, standing in the dirt below, Suzuki's eyes simply tracked the metal.
[Trajectory analyzed. Minimal evasion required.]
Suzuki simply swayed. He didn't leap or panic. He tilted his head a fraction of an inch to the left, shifted his shoulder back a millimeter, and let the deadly projectiles harmlessly bury themselves into the dirt around his feet.
Landing gracefully on the other side of the ring, Sasuke stood up, a haughty, arrogant smirk plastered across his face.
"In front of these eyes," Sasuke declared, his Sharingan glowing ominously, "all of your cheap tricks are completely meaningless."
"....."
Suzuki just stared at him. He let out a long, exhausted sigh. Protagonists are such cheaters. Awakening a legendary bloodline limit right when you're about to lose? How unreasonable.
"However..." Suzuki muttered quietly, rolling his shoulders.
If this were yesterday, Suzuki might have simply surrendered to avoid the headache. But to secure his future and gain the Third Hokage's investment, he needed to win. And he needed to win decisively!
Suzuki raised his hands, slowly forming a single, highly unorthodox hand seal.
"Everyone," Suzuki said, his voice carrying calmly across the courtyard. "Close your eyes tightly."
"Huh?"
While some of the arrogant students like Kiba kept their eyes wide open in confusion, those who were deeply familiar with Suzuki's nature—like Shikamaru, Ino, and Hinata—instantly squeezed their eyes shut.
"Fire Release: Flashbang," Suzuki stated plainly.
He exhaled a tiny, condensed spark of hyper-compressed Yang and Fire chakra.
To utilize the Sharingan, the Uchiha inherently flooded their optic nerves with chakra, forcibly dilating their pupils to an extreme degree to absorb maximum visual data and kinetic movement. It was the strongest eyes within the Konoha and probably in the Naruto verse.
Yet, that meant their unprotected eyes were vulnerable to sudden, blinding light.
CRACK-FWOOOOSH!
The tiny spark violently detonated into an apocalyptic, blinding sphere of pure white luminescence. It was like a miniature sun had momentarily ignited inside the courtyard.
"GAAAH! MY EYES!"
Sasuke shrieked in absolute agony. With his Sharingan dialed to maximum sensitivity, the flashbang didn't just blind him—it felt like someone had driven burning needles directly into his brain. He stumbled backward, desperately covering his bleeding, watering eyes, his spatial awareness completely shattered.
What a dirty trick! Sasuke thought wildly, swinging a desperate fist blindly into the air.
He hit nothing but empty space.
Suddenly, Sasuke felt a cold, sharp edge press gently, but firmly, against the side of his jugular.
The blinding light faded. The students blinked away the colorful spots in their vision, rubbing their tearing eyes.
When their sight finally returned, a collective gasp rippled through the courtyard.
Sasuke was frozen in place, his eyes squeezed shut in pain. Standing casually behind him, not even slightly out of breath, was Suzuki. The civilian orphan was holding a standard kunai perfectly flush against the Uchiha prodigy's throat.
"Checkmate," Suzuki whispered.
For a long, heavy moment, the entire Academy courtyard was dead silent. Nobody could say a single word.