When Kakashi revealed he had already mastered real ninjutsu, nearly everyone assumed the outcome was decided.
But Lock stood firm, his tone calm, almost teasing.
"Is that so? Then it works out perfectly. I've learned a jutsu myself. Let's see whose is stronger."
The class erupted in whispers.
"Lock… knows ninjutsu too?"
Even Yagyū-sensei froze for a moment. Kakashi learning ninjutsu wasn't surprising—he was the White Fang's son, guided since birth. But Lock? His father had been a shinobi but died when he was still a baby. No clan. No master. No secret techniques.
Could he really…?
Yagyū narrowed his eyes, studying Lock's unreadable face. If this boy truly has learned ninjutsu on his own… He didn't dare finish the thought.
Kakashi didn't question it. His gaze sharpened, his hands already moving into position. He believed Lock wouldn't bluff here. If they both knew jutsu, then it would come down to who could wield it better.
His fingers blurred through hand signs.
"Earth Style: Headhunter Jutsu!"
The ground split beneath Lock's feet. In an instant, he was swallowed by the earth, leaving only his head above the surface. Kakashi's body rose from the soil a few meters away, his chest heaving from the exertion.
"Hah… hah… looks like my jutsu was better. That makes this my win."
It was only a basic D-rank ninjutsu, but at his age, it consumed nearly all of his chakra. Even so, Kakashi allowed himself a quiet smile. To him, defeating Lock fairly was worth the exhaustion.
The class gawked in awe.
"He did it… Kakashi won!"
Most of them had believed this from the beginning, but after seeing how hard Lock had pushed him, the result felt anything but hollow. Instead of mocking the so-called "dead last," they now stared with respect. He had pushed Hatake Kakashi to the brink.
Yagyū let out a slow breath, tension easing from his shoulders. To him, this was the ideal result: Kakashi, the genius of the White Fang, preserved his unbroken record, while Lock, the dark horse, had gained glory even in defeat.
He started to speak. "Congratulations, Kakashi. This match—"
"Wait."
The voice that cut through was quiet, but firm.
Lock.
Yagyū blinked, startled. "Lock, you can't move anymore. Naturally, Kakashi's victory is decided. Don't be unreasonable."
The other students murmured agreement. A shinobi had to know when to yield. Refusing to accept defeat was just stubborn pride.
But Obito frowned, shaking his head. "No… Lock's not like that."
Kurenai bit her lip, her eyes never leaving Lock. He wouldn't make excuses. If he's still speaking… it means something's wrong.
"You're all looking at the surface." Lock's lips curled into a faint, almost eerie smile. "Who told you I couldn't move?"
Before their eyes, the exposed "head" of Lock began to crumble—not flesh, but soil peeling away like a clay doll.
The real Lock was gone.
"What—?!"
Yagyū's eyes went wide. Kakashi's, too. Both realized it a heartbeat too late.
"Behind you."
Lock's whisper came from directly behind Kakashi's back.
The genius froze, body tense. He hadn't felt a thing until the words were already in his ear.
"Don't move," Lock's voice carried a teasing lilt, though his tone was edged with confidence. "If you twitch, someone's going to get hurt."
The class fell into stunned silence. The "defeated" boy had turned the tables completely.
Far above the academy grounds, inside the Hokage's office, another pair of eyes had been watching through the crystal ball.
The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, leaned forward in his chair, his pipe forgotten. He had begun watching for a simple reason: today was the first day of class, and he was curious about his youngest son, Asuma.
But Asuma was the farthest thing from his mind now.
His gaze was fixed on the image of two boys—the White Fang's son, already a prodigy beyond his years… and the other, a child he had never even heard of.
Fujiwara Lock.
No clan name. No renown. Nothing to mark him as special. And yet, in this duel, he had not only stood toe-to-toe with Kakashi but pushed him to his limits, even turning defeat into a surprise reversal.
The Hokage's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"A commoner's child, with no guidance… and still capable of this?" He murmured aloud, voice laced with astonishment.
Memories of Konoha's past geniuses flickered in his mind, but this was different. This boy was not nurtured by a great clan's secrets. His talent was raw, unpolished, but undeniable.
For the first time in years, Hiruzen felt a shiver of genuine excitement.
"This is the future of the village," he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Konoha's future may burn brighter than even I imagined."