"So fast…!"
Gasps rippled through Training Ground Forty-Three as Hatake Kakashi and Uchiha Yoru clashed again, their exchanges a blur of motion and chakra. Even Sarutobi Asuma, who rarely saw eye to eye with Yoru, couldn't hide the shock on his face.
Hand seal speed wasn't just about memorization. It reflected chakra circulation, control, and long-term conditioning. Talent mattered, yes, but there were no shortcuts. Some shinobi reached their limits early, unable to touch high-difficulty techniques no matter their rank. This was one of the harsh truths of ninjutsu.
Yoru's Sharingan burned crimson, two tomoe spinning steadily.
Ebisu stared, stunned. "So this… this is a bloodline shinobi."
For civilians and non-clan ninja, effort felt meaningful. They believed work could close any gap. Bloodlines shattered that belief. Not because they replaced effort, but because they rewrote the starting line.
Yoru hadn't stood out this much at the academy. Strong, sure. Above average. But ever since awakening the Sharingan, his growth had surged forward without slowing.
Even Guy was momentarily silent. "So this is what awakening a kekkei genkai really means…"
Kakashi had trained for years to reach his level of chakra control. Yoru had caught up in a fraction of that time.
Then Guy suddenly threw his fist into the air, laughing at full volume. "That's it! That's youth! Burn bright!"
The tension broke. Laughter followed. Whatever pressure had built among the spectators eased, swept away by Guy's infectious energy.
On the field, Kakashi had already adapted. When Yoru's wide-range fire technique surged across the ground, Kakashi dove into the lake without hesitation, using terrain to neutralize the attack.
Steam lingered over the water.
Then the surface exploded.
Kakashi burst upward, only to see Yoru rushing him head-on.
Lightning screamed through the night.
Instinct took over. Kakashi's palm flared as he summoned Chidori.
For a split second, moonlight caught two streaks of lightning racing toward each other. The sharp cry of chakra tore through the air, making everyone watching hold their breath.
Then—
The light faltered.
Kakashi's Chidori flickered, unstable.
A hand clamped down on his wrist.
Yoru stood before him, lightning crawling across his body, eyes sharp and focused. Kakashi's half-formed technique sputtered uselessly between them.
"You created this jutsu, didn't you?" Yoru asked quietly.
Kakashi's eye was wide, emotions tangled beneath the spinning tomoe.
"I adapted it," Yoru continued, releasing his grip as the lightning faded. "It's called Chidori Stream."
They stood on the surface of the lake, facing each other in silence.
Then Yoru's expression hardened.
"At the end, you hesitated," he said. "Just for a moment. I saw fear."
He shook his head softly. "War wounds don't close on command, Kakashi. Right now, you don't belong in ANBU. If you want… the Konoha Military Police would take you."
Kakashi didn't answer.
He knew the truth. When he tried to release Chidori, something had surfaced. Blood. Hands stained red. Rin's face.
Hands that never felt clean.
What unsettled him most wasn't losing ground. It was being outpaced in execution. Yoru hadn't overpowered him. He'd out-timed him. Out-controlled him. It felt like fighting a version of himself from years in the future.
And losing to his own technique made it worse.
Kakashi lowered his headband, covering the Sharingan once more.
"…Tch," Guy muttered, worry etched across his face. "Kakashi, you really shouldn't be in ANBU like this."
The others gathered closer now.
Everyone had seen it. The lapse. The hesitation. In real combat, that moment could kill.
"Yeah," Shinku said quietly. "That wasn't normal."
Even Asuma spoke up, his tone unusually serious. "You need time off. The war's over. Dying on a routine mission because of old scars would be a waste."
There was no rivalry in their voices. No politics. Just classmates, worried.
Kakashi listened, then nodded once.
"I know."
The answer was calm. Too calm.
The group exchanged uneasy looks. As a friend, they didn't want to lose him. As shinobi, they knew what it meant if he stayed like this.
The night grew quiet again, moonlight reflecting off the lake where lightning had faded, leaving only steam and unanswered fears behind.