It was rare for the entire year to gather for sparring practice on the training field. Before class began, Akira Hoshino pulled Naraku aside to check in.
"Can you handle being paired with Kakashi today? If I'd known about your situation earlier, I wouldn't have pushed you so hard back then. I'm sorry, Naraku."
The thought of how he'd repeatedly matched a malnourished boy against the so-called genius Kakashi Hatake made Akira want to smack his past self.
Naraku smiled softly. "It's fine, Akira-sensei. I know you just wanted everyone to have a fair matchup." He flexed his hands, fully healed now. "I'm good. Pair me with Kakashi."
"You're sure?"
"Positive."
When Akira read out "Kakashi Hatake" and "Naraku Uchiha," the reaction was completely different from before.
"Who's gonna win this time?"
"Probably Kakashi. I mean—"
"Not necessarily. Naraku might surprise us."
The usual sneers and dismissive comments were gone. Now people were genuinely debating who was stronger. A couple girls who'd ignored him before even called out encouragement.
"Good luck, Naraku!"
"Kakashi's cute, but Naraku's totally my type…"
"Yuko, you traitor!"
Naraku froze at the shift in atmosphere, refusing to meet anyone's eyes until he stepped onto the field, shoulders finally loosening once he stood opposite Kakashi.
All because he'd ditched that gloomy haircut and let people actually see his face. Turns out, good looks really were power.
"Tch. So what if he's pretty." Asuma Sarutobi muttered under his breath, glaring. He'd already decided Naraku was a rival. What if Kurenai noticed him? What if she… left?
Meanwhile, Genma Shiranui heaved a sigh of relief. "Yes! Not me versus Kakashi again." He grabbed his buddy Raidō by the arm, pleading at rapid-fire speed. "Please, Raidō, pair with me today!"
Raidō raised a brow. "If you keep fighting me, you'll never improve. You should be begging to face Kakashi."
On the other side of the field, Obito sneezed. Rin fussed over him immediately, making him grin like he'd won the lottery.
"Improve? Yeah right," Genma scoffed. "Getting wrecked by Kakashi won't help anyone."
Raidō pointed at Aoba Yamashiro, waiting patiently for assignment. "Then fight him instead. At least switch it up."
"…Fine."
Chokawa Akimichi leaned on his bento, still chewing a drumstick, and elbowed Shikahara Nara. "So, who wins this one?"
"Probably Kakashi," Shikahara said, arms crossed, tapping his forearm in thought. "Even if Naraku's improved, it hasn't been long enough to catch up."
Standing at the center, Naraku stared across the field. Kakashi adjusted his blade with calm precision.
He remembered his first day here—thrown into a fight he couldn't possibly win, drowning in weakness and isolation. He swore he'd never feel that powerless again.
But today was different. His chakra reserves were solid, stamina steady, his grasp of Sakumo's sword style much stronger. Kakashi wouldn't beat him in three minutes this time.
Naraku gripped the short sword Sakumo had given him, knees bent, ready for the first strike.
Kakashi slid into his stance, blade half-drawn.
"Begin!"
Akira's voice rang out. Kakashi blurred forward instantly, blade flashing as he slashed from below.
Naraku met him head-on, blocking twice before finding an opening in Kakashi's momentum. He darted forward, thrusting in his cleanest counter.
But Kakashi was still sharper. He angled his blade, deflecting Naraku's strike, then kicked off the ground, retreating to reset. A second later, he surged back in.
Steel clashed again and again. By the time they hit the three-minute mark, sweat gleamed on their brows.
Kakashi adjusted his stance. He'd been counting every second since the start. One last move before time was called.
He watched Naraku's rhythm, waiting for the break. There—a crack in his guard.
Now!
Kakashi lunged, blade carving upward toward Naraku's chest. The edge sliced air and fabric before clashing against Naraku's sword. Sparks flew.
Naraku staggered back, off balance. If Kakashi pressed the attack, it would be over—
"Time! Draw!"
Akira's call echoed across the field. The match was done. Naraku hadn't lost. Not this time.
Maybe he would've fallen if the fight had gone longer. But within three minutes, he stood as Kakashi's equal.
And one day, three minutes would stretch into five. Then ten. Then an hour.
Naraku Uchiha had become Kakashi's true rival.
"Awesome job, Naraku!"
"Kakashi, you'll get him next time!"
"Tch, he only survived because of the time limit."
"Oh yeah? Wanna last three minutes against Kakashi yourself?"
"…Shut up."
"Shikahara, you actually guessed wrong?"
"I'm not a fortune-teller. Sue me."
"Hahaha!"
"Way to go, Naraku! You made the Uchiha proud! Kakashi, next time I'm taking you down!"
"They tied, Obito."
"Details, details! Doesn't matter!"
The crowd buzzed with noise, but Naraku barely heard them. He was too busy stepping up to Kakashi, eyes shining as he held out two fingers for the seal of reconciliation.
"Even if the time ran out…" Naraku's voice was soft, almost awed. "Kakashi, this time we're finally even."
Kakashi muttered back, "Not really. You didn't use that."
Naraku almost laughed. Of course he'd fixate on that. The kid's competitive streak was ridiculous—but fitting. Even years later as Team 7's teacher, he'd never back down from a challenge with Guy. Some habits were lifelong.
"If I'd used it, I'd have lost faster. I don't have the chakra for it yet."
Naraku's smile was faint but genuine, his words quiet enough for only Kakashi to hear—soothing the little cat bristling beside him.
There was a light in his expression, subtle but radiant, that caught Kakashi off guard.
Exhaling, Kakashi allowed himself the rarest thing in public: a smile.
"Next time, I'm winning."
Naraku's answer was steady, unwavering. "And I'm not gonna lose easy."
Because only equals deserve to stand at each other's side.