"Who exactly are you looking down on?"
Kakashi's entire attack pattern was laid bare before Hyuga Satoru's Byakugan.
To Satoru, his opponent's movements weren't sharp or deadly—they were slow, predictable, almost harmless. It was as if Kakashi was merely playing with him, the way older children toy with toddlers.
Of course, Satoru knew that wasn't Kakashi's true strength. It was obvious the young jonin was holding back—treating him like an ordinary child.
Yet even though Satoru prided himself on being humble and disciplined despite his gifts, years of praise and reverence as the Hyuga Clan's prodigy had left a mark. To be dismissed so casually… stirred something deep inside him.
His brows furrowed. He stepped forward lightly—his movement flowing like water—as his left arm swept Kakashi's strike aside in a soft, circular motion. The motion looked gentle, even elegant—almost like taiji—but what came after was anything but soft.
"Gentle Step Twin Lion Fists—Half-Step Crushing Blow!"
Azure chakra erupted from his hands, shaping itself into twin lion heads that coiled around his fists. He lunged forward on his right foot, twisting his hips and driving his punch straight into Kakashi's midsection.
"Boom!!"
The impact resounded across the training field.
Satoru's counterattack was fierce, sudden—far beyond Kakashi's expectations. He realized the danger the instant his first strike was brushed aside, but before he could even react, the small Hyuga's fist slammed into his abdomen like a battering ram.
Because of their height difference, Satoru's strike landed at a brutal, upward angle—clean and precise. Kakashi felt as if he'd been rammed by a charging stallion. The shockwave of pain tore through his stomach and spine, sending him flying backward a good four or five meters before he crashed into the dirt with a heavy thud.
Even for a battle-hardened shinobi like Kakashi, the pain blanked his mind for an instant. Dust rose around him as his body rolled several times—finally stopping at the feet of a dark-haired young man watching nearby.
That young man was Sarutobi Asuma, not yet the bearded jonin of the future—just a gifted chunin, overshadowed by his father, the Third Hokage.
"Hey! Kakashi! You okay?!" Asuma shouted, startled by the force of the hit.
But before he could reach out, Kakashi's body suddenly burst into a puff of white smoke—disappearing completely.
In its place was a crater half a meter wide.
"…An Shadow Clone?" Asuma muttered, stunned. He hadn't even seen Kakashi form the hand seals.
He looked back up just in time to see Satoru leap backward—instinctively dodging something.
"Earth Release: Headhunter Jutsu!"
From the ground beneath where Satoru had just stood, a pair of hands shot up—grabbing at empty air before Kakashi himself emerged from the dirt.
His ambush had failed. Narrowing his eyes, he regarded the boy standing across from him. A thought surfaced in his mind.
This kid… When did Konoha get a monster like this?
Reaching back, Kakashi pulled several shuriken from his pouch and hurled them in a deadly spread—two aimed at the eyes, one at the heart, and two at the knees.
Even as the weapons flew, he rubbed his abdomen briefly, wincing—trying to suppress the dull ache where Satoru's blow had landed.
At the same time, he reached up with his left hand and pulled up his hitai-ate, revealing the crimson glow of the Sharingan. The three black tomoe spun slowly as he fixed his gaze on Satoru.
Kakashi's expression was calm, but his body told a different story. That hit had been real. He'd kept his composure and counterattacked immediately, using the shadow clone to confuse his opponent while his real body slipped underground. But Satoru had sensed him regardless—forcing him to surface prematurely.
And now, the pain he'd been suppressing was flooding back, clawing at his nerves. His chakra control felt sluggish, unsteady.
So… it's his Gentle Fist, he realized grimly. He struck my chakra network.
Even as a fellow Leaf ninja, this was the first time Kakashi had personally felt the terror of the Hyuga's Juken.
The shuriken whistled through the air toward Satoru—fast, precise, from all angles.
But the boy didn't even flinch.
Raising one hand lightly, he exhaled—and thrust his palm forward.
"Eight Trigrams Vacuum Palm!"
A compressed wave of chakra blasted outward, striking the incoming shuriken mid-air. The projectiles were deflected in an instant, sent spinning away. The same chakra blast kept going—barreling straight toward Kakashi.
"—!!"
Kakashi's Sharingan caught the chakra wave's arc—visible as a gleaming ripple of compressed force. Eyes widening, he dropped into a clumsy roll to the side, barely evading it as the Vacuum Palm shot past, roaring away into the sky.
The crowd of watching ninja gasped.
He was five years old. Five—and already capable of long-range Gentle Fist strikes.
Kakashi's evasion looked ungainly, but Satoru wasn't fooled. His small face had grown serious.
That punch earlier had struck several key tenketsu points—Chuji, Kangen, Qihai, Tianshu, and others—restricting Kakashi's chakra flow, but not completely sealing it. He had held back deliberately.
After all, this was a spar, not a fight to the death. If he'd truly gone all out, that single strike could have shattered Kakashi's chakra pathways permanently.
In a real battle, with no restraints, Kakashi would have died in seconds—his overconfidence and lack of intel sealing his fate. Even years later, when he had matured as a shinobi, that same flaw—his faith in his own ability—would nearly kill him again against Uchiha Itachi.
To Satoru, killing was often easier than making someone admit defeat.
That last Vacuum Palm wasn't meant to wound. It was a warning, a declaration—proof of what the Hyuga were capable of.
But no one watching seemed to understand that.
Neither the Third nor the Fourth Hokage called for the match to stop, and Satoru certainly wasn't about to declare himself the winner.
Besides—now that Kakashi had activated his Sharingan, things had gotten interesting.
Lowering his gaze slightly to avoid direct eye contact, Satoru's toes dug into the dirt.
Then—he vanished.
With a sharp burst of motion, he dashed straight toward Kakashi.
The silver-haired ninja's expression hardened, his stance sinking low. This time, there was no hesitation.
The fight began anew.
......
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