Before they knew it, the school day was over.
Normally, the moment the dismissal bell rang, the classroom would empty in an instant. But today, nearly a third of the students remained.
They had all stayed behind for one reason: to watch the duel between Sarutobi Asuma and Hanekawa.
Curiosity buzzed in the air. After all, this fight had weight.
Asuma was the Hokage's son—a recognized genius in his own right. While not quite on the level of Hatake Kakashi, he was still one of the most talked-about names in their class.
Hanekawa, on the other hand, was the transfer student. For most of them, their impression of him was… no impression at all. Ever since he joined, he had been low-key, ordinary. No trouble, no brilliance.
"Kakashi, who do you think will win?" Nohara Rin asked curiously, glancing between Asuma and Hanekawa.
"Hard to say," Kakashi shook his head.
"Obviously Asuma will win!" Uchiha Obito cut in. "He's the Hokage's son!"
"Not necessarily," Kakashi replied calmly. Something about Hanekawa's calm demeanor felt… off. It was the kind of composure that came only when one already knew the outcome.
"Then let's make a bet!" Obito's eyes lit up mischievously.
"What kind of bet?" Kakashi asked warily. "If it's another duel, count me out."
"Hmph, no," Obito said, glancing toward Rin. "Whoever's wrong treats Rin to dinner."
"Why me?" Rin blinked in surprise.
"This…" Obito faltered as Rin's eyes landed on him. His cheeks flushed red, and for a moment he had no idea what to say.
"Fine. I'll take your bet." Kakashi's voice was indifferent.
"Perfect!" Obito perked up immediately, practically glowing with excitement. Was his long-awaited chance for a meal with Rin finally here?
"You two are hopeless," Rin sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. She was long used to their constant back-and-forth. Usually, it ended with Obito in defeat. But maybe this time would be different. She too thought Asuma had the upper hand.
As someone from a civilian background, Rin understood well how overwhelming the advantage of a shinobi clan could be.
Down in the practice field, Asuma frowned slightly.
What he hated most was being called the Hokage's son. Whatever greatness his father had achieved—what did that have to do with him?
"Remember this! The one who defeats you is Sarutobi Asuma!" he declared loudly.
"…." Hanekawa's lips twitched. There it was again—his bad habit of secondhand embarrassment.
What kind of middle-school declaration was that?
But for five- and six-year-olds, it was just right.
The crowd of students grew restless with excitement, eyes glued to the two boys.
"Come on then!" Asuma raised his hands, soaking in the attention like a star on stage.
Expressionless, Hanekawa formed the Seal of Confrontation.
It was a mandatory ritual before any shinobi spar. Asuma followed suit.
The moment the seal was complete, Asuma struck first—two shuriken whistling through the air at sharp angles, aimed straight for Hanekawa's vital points.
Since this was an official spar, all the weapons were wooden training tools. But the speed and precision were no less impressive.
A sharp swish cut through the air.
Hanekawa responded with two shuriken of his own.
Steel clashed.
Both of Asuma's projectiles were knocked out of the air—but Hanekawa's shuriken continued forward on their path.
"Impossible!" Asuma's eyes widened.
He clearly remembered: just a week ago, during Ninja Tools class, Hanekawa couldn't even hit a stationary target.
And now… he could not only match but overpower Asuma's throws? That meant Hanekawa's strength and technique had already surpassed his own.
How fast was this progress supposed to be?!
Even in shock, Asuma's hands moved quickly.
Substitution Jutsu!
Smoke burst forth as his body flickered to the side.
Thunks echoed—the shuriken embedding themselves in the wooden log left in his place.
At its core, the Substitution Jutsu was a visual trick. But in skilled hands, it could almost pass for a space-time technique.
"Not bad," Asuma said, glaring at Hanekawa. "But this is as far as you go." His gaze flicked briefly to Kurenai on the sidelines. He needed to finish this quickly and decisively.
Dragging things out against a transfer student who'd only been around a week? Even victory would taste like shame.
Body Flicker Technique!
Chakra surged around his feet, and his speed spiked dramatically. Leaning forward, kunai gripped tight, he lunged at Hanekawa.
The gap between them shrank in an instant.
"Move, Hanekawa!" Kurenai cried out, her small face twisted with worry.
"He's frozen with fear," Obito muttered, shaking his head. "He never even learned the Three Basic Techniques. It's already over."
But in that instant, Hanekawa's hands blurred through a string of seals.
When the final seal locked—nothing happened.
Silence.
A dud?
Obito smirked, about to jeer—only to stop cold.
Because Asuma had suddenly frozen mid-step.
"Genjutsu," Kakashi murmured, eyes glinting. "This match is already decided."
"Genjutsu?" Obito gaped.
The rest of the students, with less experience, exchanged confused looks. They had no idea what was going on.
From Asuma's perspective:
He had seen Hanekawa form hand seals and braced himself for impact.
But when nothing came, he laughed.
Failed jutsu—rookie mistake. Clearly, Hanekawa's control was sloppy.
"You've lost!" Asuma sneered, thrusting his kunai forward.
Only for the blade to stab air.
"Wha—?!"
He spun instinctively, finding Hanekawa standing behind him.
How had he gotten there?
"This isn't possible," Asuma muttered, scowling. "You couldn't have dodged that!"
Snapping the kunai shut, he formed seals once more.
Wind Release: Gale Palm!
A roaring blast of wind surged forth, sharp and deadly fast.
But again—Hanekawa slipped aside, untouched.
"Impossible!" Asuma's pupils shrank.
Wind Release was infamous for its speed and cutting power. Even most genin couldn't react to it. Yet Hanekawa… had evaded it twice.
"I refuse to believe this!" Asuma roared, forming seals again.
Another Gale Palm ripped through the air—again in vain.
His teeth clenched. A wave of dizziness struck him as chakra drained rapidly.
No matter how hard he pushed, Hanekawa simply stood there in the distance, untouchable, like a phantom.
It was then realization dawned.
Genjutsu.
His heart sank.
But… how was he supposed to break it? No one had ever taught him that! His private tutor hadn't imagined he'd face a genjutsu user in his very first year.
Trapped, helpless, he froze in place.
Hanekawa walked toward him calmly.
The technique he had cast was Demonic Illusion: Hell Viewing Jutsu—forcing the target to confront their deepest fear.
For Asuma, that fear was simple: losing to Hanekawa.
The genjutsu released.
When his eyes cleared, a kunai was already pressed against his throat.
"You alright?" Hanekawa asked, withdrawing the weapon.
"…"
Asuma's chest heaved, his face twisted with fury and humiliation. He looked like he might faint on the spot.
"Relax," Hanekawa said evenly. "Feeling dizzy is normal. You used too many jutsu."
"You—!" Asuma sputtered, his trembling finger pointed at him.
They were words of concern, but to Asuma, they felt like the cruelest humiliation.