"Naruto Uzumaki versus Sasuke Uchiha."
The yard went quiet.
Even the usual whispering from the civilian kids died down. The morning sun hung high over the Academy training ground, baking the packed dirt.
Finally, I rolled my shoulders once and stepped into the circle.
Across from me, Sasuke stood perfectly still.
His hands hung loosely at his sides, but nothing about him was relaxed. His posture was balanced, weight centered, feet positioned for immediate movement. His dark eyes were sharp and focused, locked entirely onto me.
The Uchiha massacre hadn't happened yet.
And honestly? I didn't even know if it ever would in this world.
Which meant Sasuke wasn't the cold, hollowed-out avenger from canon.
He wasn't broken. He was whole but still arrogant, quiet and still distant from most people.
But not shattered.
Every day after the Academy, he waited near the gate for his nii-san, Itachi, to pick him up.
And every time Itachi didn't come, that tiny flicker of disappointment crossed his face before he buried it.
I noticed.
I noticed everything.
Ikuta-sensei raised his hand.
"Begin!"
Sasuke moved first.
No hesitation.
He burst forward in a straight line.
Hmm. Slightly faster than me.
His fist snapped toward my face, clean, direct, no wasted motion. I barely tilted my head in time. The punch grazed my cheek instead of breaking my nose.
He didn't stop.
He pivoted smoothly and fired a low kick toward my knee.
I shifted my weight just enough that it struck my thigh instead. Pain flared upward like a lightning bolt.
I countered immediately with a right hook aimed at his ribs.
He twisted, spine bending fluidly. My knuckles brushed cloth.
He's faster than I expected.
Not just fast but efficient.
There was no wild movement. No unnecessary tension. Every strike was calculated.
He stepped back half a step, testing distance.
I adjusted my stance.
This wasn't going to be like the other spars where I bulldozed some civilian kid into the dirt.
Sasuke pivoted forward again and drove another kick into my thigh, harder this time.
Pain shot up my leg. I clenched my teeth and swung a wide hook, forcing him to duck.
He slipped under it and stepped inside my guard.
His palm slammed into my stomach.
The air rushed out of my lungs in a violent burst.
I stumbled back.
Sasuke had a small smirk on his face.
That little shit.
I forced a breath back into my lungs.
"I'm sorry, Sasuke," I said loudly enough for him to hear. "I underestimated you."
He didn't reply.
He just stared.
Cocky little brat.
Fine.
He might be slightly faster than me.
But I'm stronger.
He dashed forward again, this time with a rapid flurry of jabs aimed high. Fast, snapping punches meant to keep my guard locked to my head.
I blocked two.
The third clipped my jaw.
But I did something deliberate.
I dropped my guard slightly.
Just a fraction.
He saw it.
His eyes sharpened, and he committed fully to the opening.
That's when I stepped forward instead of backward.
I trapped his attacking arm under my armpit and locked it tight.
His eyes widened slightly, then I drove my forehead into his.
Crack.
And again.
Crack.
His head snapped back.
But he reacted fast.
He drove his knee into my ribs with sharp precision.
Pain exploded along my side and I released his arm.
He twisted away, trying to create distance.
I didn't let him.
I pushed off the ground hard, leg muscles straining as I burst forward.
He raised his arms to block, expecting a punch.
Instead, I dropped low.
Leg sweep.
My shin hooked behind both his ankles.
His feet left the ground.
He fell hard onto his back, dust bursting around him.
From the sweeping position, I snapped a kick toward his stomach.
But he rolled at the last second.
The kick grazed his side instead of landing clean.
He sprang back to his feet almost immediately.
This time, I didn't chase recklessly.
We stood again, breathing heavier now.
Sasuke's nose was bleeding.
The smirk was gone.
His eyes were sharper.
Focused.
Good.
We circled each other slowly.
Dust shifted beneath our sandals.
He feinted left.
I didn't bite.
He pivoted and came from the right, but this time… he was slightly slower.
Low stamina.
His breathing was heavier now.
Clan heir or not, we were still six-year-olds.
I blocked his punch. His knuckles cracked against my forearm.
He spun into a back kick.
It hit my ribs clean.
Pain flared hot and bright but I caught his leg mid-motion.
Before he could retract it, I drove my elbow down into his thigh.
His face tightened.
No time to hesitate.
I grabbed his shirt, lifted with everything my back and legs had, and slammed him into the ground with full force.
The impact jolted through my arms.
I leaned forward instinctively.
Big mistake.
I looked directly at his face.
He snapped his head upward.
Headbutt.
CRACK.
Pain exploded across my brow.
"Son of a-!"
I rolled back instantly.
He rolled the opposite direction.
We both lay on the dirt for a second, staring at the sky.
Breathing hard.
My forehead throbbed.
My ribs burned.
My thigh screamed every time I shifted weight.
I didn't expect him to push me this far.
He's good.
Really good.
And he's only six.
Not just him.
All the clan heirs in this world are stronger than canon.
They're training harder.
Earlier.
With more intent.
Damn.
They're all going to be monsters when they grow up.
I rolled to my side and pushed myself up.
So did he.
We locked eyes again.
No smirk now.
No arrogance.
Just determination.
I charged.
He tried to sidestep, almost succeeded but my shoulder clipped him mid-movement.
Just enough.
He lost balance for a fraction of a second.
That's all I needed.
I grabbed his sleeve and yanked him back toward me.
Elbow to the face.
His head snapped sideways.
He stumbled.
I pressed forward aggressively now, no hesitation, no baiting.
My fists slammed into his guard with enough force to drive him backward step by step.
He fired back between my strikes.
One caught my cheek.
Another hammered into my side.
Sharp. Painful. Precise.
He stepped inside my range again, but this time I was ready.
I drove a straight punch into his solar plexus.
The air blasted out of him.
His body folded slightly.
I grabbed his wrist before he could recover.
He twisted, trying to slip free.
But strength mattered.
I pulled him forward and smashed my forehead into his face again.
His body staggered.
I stepped in, hips turning with full commitment, and launched an uppercut.
My fist connected cleanly under his chin.
The impact lifted him slightly off his feet.
For a second, his body hung there, then he crashed onto the dirt.
Hard.
I rushed forward and grabbed his collar.
But his body had already gone limp.
Unconscious.
Silence swallowed the yard.
"Match over!" Ikuta-sensei called sharply.
The sound snapped the watching students back to life.
I rolled off Sasuke and lay flat on my back.
Staring at the sky.
My face throbbed.
My ribs felt cracked.
My thigh pulsed with pain.
Worth it.
After a moment, medics-in-training hurried over to check Sasuke. He was breathing steady. Just knocked out cold.
I pushed myself slowly to my feet.
My body protested every movement.
That's when I felt it.
A gaze.
I looked across the yard.
Hinata was watching me.
Just calm and measuring.
Her pale eyes studied me like I was a puzzle.
She didn't look impressed. She looked analytical.
Oh, great.
She's going to be an even bigger headache than Sasuke.
Behind her, Ino was whispering something animatedly, probably about how dramatic the fight was. Shikamaru was lying on his back under a tree, staring at clouds like none of this mattered.
When our eyes met, he gave me the faintest nod.
"What a drag," I muttered.
In the distance, Shikamaru echoed, "Troublesome…"
I huffed a quiet laugh.
As Sasuke was carried to the shade, his eyes fluttered open briefly.
For half a second, our gazes met again.
No hatred.
No humiliation.
Just fire.
Good.
That meant he'd come back stronger.
And honestly?
So would I.
Because if this was Year One…
Then by the time we graduated?
This class was going to be terrifying.
And I couldn't afford to fall behind.
Not in this world.