On the school grounds, the students clustered in twos and threes, the hubbub tinged with pre-training restlessness.
"Uzumaki Naruto!" Iruka called, clipboard in hand.
"Finally my turn!" Naruto sprang from the crowd, rubbing his fists, excitement all over his face. "Watch me own this!"
—a line he'd picked up from Mamoru.
Low chuckles rippled through the onlookers.
Mamoru, arms folded, quietly added once the laughter died, "Naruto, go for it."
It was almost the only cheer offered, pitifully faint.
"Just watch!" Naruto flashed a confident thumbs-up and strode to the center.
"Mamoru, why bother cheering for that guy?" Ino asked, leaning in, puzzled.
Mamoru glanced at her, expression flat. "Cheering for a classmate, what's weird about that?"
"Well, yeah, but…" Ino muttered, then let it drop.
Naruto inhaled, whipped four shuriken from his pouch in a clean arc and flung them at the distant target.
Thud,! Thud! Thud! Thud!
All four blades stuck—way off the bull's-eye, scattered around the rim.
Jeers erupted, merciless.
"Hold on! I wasn't ready! One more shot, I've got this!" Naruto's face reddened as he waved frantically.
"Enough, Naruto, come back." Iruka sighed, making a note.
"Next, Uchiha Sasuke."
"Sasuke-kun!"
The instant the name left Iruka's lips, girls' shrieks nearly lifted the roof. Mamoru winced, jammed a finger into the ear closer to the racket, and moved away.
Sasuke stepped forward without waiting for Naruto to leave, ignoring the glare boring into him. Calmly, he drew shuriken and snapped off four throws in one fluid motion.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
All four sank dead-center, forming a perfect square.
"Excellent work, true to the Uchiha name." Iruka praised. "Everyone, take note."
"Kyaa! Sasuke-kun's amazing!"
"Nice one, Sasuke!"
…
The girls' cheers swelled again.
Unable to bear it, Naruto spun toward them. "Enough with the Sasuke-Sasuke already! Shut it!"
"Naruto, you're the loud one!"
"Wanna get hurt?"
"Naruto, are you suicidal?!"
…
The girls closed in like a pack.
"Naruto, knock it off and get back here." Iruka massaged his temples.
'Even Iruka-sensei… '
Naruto deflated, trudging back like a punctured balloon.
"No big deal." Mamoru said, clapping his shoulder with a look half sympathy, half tease. "You've embarrassed yourself plenty, you should be used to it."
"That supposed to cheer me up?" Naruto wailed.
"Would you rather I laugh?" Mamoru asked, sounding hopeful.
"Don't you dare!" Naruto leapt back, arms crossed in a huge X. He knew well how vicious Mamoru's sarcasm could get.
"Shuriken test done. Next, sparring! Names called, step up!" Iruka clapped for attention.
Groans swept the class.
"No whining." Iruka warned, tapping his roster. "Some of you still need to shape up or you won't graduate as Genin."
The words dumped ice-water on the mood and silence fell.
"First pair—Uzumaki Naruto!"
"Yes! First again!" Naruto shot forward, fists clenched. "No messing up this time!"
He bounded into the chalked ring.
The others chuckled at the familiar sight while Naruto scanned for his opponent, eyes blazing.
Iruka sighed. "Your opponent, Uchiha Sasuke."
In an instant, shrieks split the air. Through the roar, Sasuke stepped out, cool-faced, taking his place opposite Naruto.
"Sasuke, I'm beating you this time!" Naruto shouted, finger pointed.
"Dead-last, save the big talk." Sasuke murmured, hands in pockets.
Furious, Naruto charged. "Take this!"
"Hey! Match hasn't started!"
Iruka's protest overlapped Naruto's yell.
Sasuke sidestepped the wild punch, countered with a sharp fist to the gut and a sweeping leg.
Thud!
In seconds, Naruto lay flattened.
"Why… always like this?" He stared skyward, hollow-eyed.
Back in the crowd, Iruka resumed. "Next, Uchiha Mamoru."
"G—"
"Hold up!"
A voice cut in.
Kiba raised his hand and stepped out.
"Kiba, reason for interrupting?" Iruka asked.
"Let me fight Mamoru, sensei!"
Kiba bared his fangs, finger pointing toward the indifferent Mamoru, eyes burning. "I trained with mom just so I can take you down myself, Mamoru."
"Oh, really?" Mamoru replied, unmoved.
Mamoru slid his hands into his pockets, strolled into the ring first, and yawned lazily. "Iruka, hurry up."
Iruka corrected in exasperation, "How many times do I have to tell you to add 'sensei' after my name?"
"Got it, Iruka." Mamoru answered obligingly, though his tone held zero intention of changing.
Iruka shook his head, turned to Kiba, and grew serious. "Kiba, are you sure about this?"
Kiba's eyes blazed with resolve as he said again, "Iruka-sensei, please."
Seeing his determination, Iruka finally relented. "Fine, but just this once."
"Yes!" Kiba exclaimed excitedly, leapt into the ring, and pointed at Mamoru, battle-ready. "First piece of advice: I'm way stronger now. Today I'll wipe the floor with you."
Mamoru didn't even answer. He tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded, studying the clouds as though counting their shapes. The utter disregard stung Kiba worse than any insult.
"Tch. Damn you!" Kiba snarled, then shouted, "Sensei, can we start?!"
"Both sides, begin!" Iruka called.
The instant the word left Iruka's mouth, Kiba's hands flashed through seals. Chakra surging into his limbs.
Four Legs Technique!
He dropped to all fours, nails lengthening into claws, and shot forward, sand spraying behind him.
"One-shot finish!"
His speed drew gasps from every watching classmate. In a blink, he was on Mamoru, claws slicing the air.
The moment he thought he'd connected, a palm clamped around his wrist and froze the strike dead.
"Not quite there, huh?" Mamoru still had leisure to comment, voice lazy. "Maybe head home and practice some more?"
"Like hell!"
Kiba wrenched free, skidded back, and left two shallow ruts in the sand. He broke into a high-speed circle around Mamoru, kicking up dust. Using the Four Legs Techniques' agility, he lunged again and again from every odd angle like a hunting leopard.
Every strike missed by a hair as Mamoru swayed, leaned, or stepped aside with maddening ease. He moved so relaxed it looked as though he'd already read Kiba's every intention.
"Why didn't you bring your mutt along?" Mamoru flipped lightly in place, dodging another rear attack.
"I'm more than enough alone!" Kiba slid to a stop several meters away, breathing hard.
"Fine." Mamoru lost patience, rolled his neck, and prepared to finish it. "For the effort, you get one last swing."
"Quit the big talk! My real ace is still up my sleeve!" Kiba growled. "Now watch, this is my true strength!
He crouched until his torso was almost parallel to the ground, Chakra roiling like boiling water. "Take this!"
Man-Beast Ultimate Taijutsu: Fang Over Fang!
Before the echo of his shout faded, he shot forward, body twisting into a human cyclone that ripped through the air straight at Mamoru.
Instead of retreating, Mamoru stamped off the ground and sprang upward, meeting the whirlwind head-on. Mid-air he fully extended, then whipped his right leg around in a lightning-fast Leaf Whirlwind that swept across Kiba's path.
Bang!
The clash was sharp and brief.
The spinning Fang Over Fang was brutally stopped as Mamoru's heel cracked against Kiba's temple.
Kiba grunted, his rotation died instantly, and he flew sideways, slamming into the ground several meters away in a cloud of dust.
Mamoru landed smoothly, unruffled, not even breathing hard.
Iruka stared for a second, then snapped back. "Winner: Mamoru!"
He sprinted to Kiba's side, knelt, and checked—Kiba's eyes were shut, he was out cold.
"Free practice while I'm gone!" Iruka ordered, lifted the unconscious boy, and hurried toward the infirmary.
No one was listening anymore.
The girls swarmed in, chattering praise that drowned Mamoru.
"Mamoru-kun, that was amazing!"
"That kick was so cool!"
"It kicked straight into my heart!"
…
Center of the storm, Mamoru soaked it up, striking one cringe-worthy pose after another.
A cold voice cut through the noise.
"Mamoru, fight me."
Mamoru followed the sound: Sasuke stood a short distance off, hands in pockets, watching him.
"Pass." Mamoru answered on reflex, tone weary.
He didn't want pointless spats damaging the peace under their shared roof.
Deeper still, a worry coiled like a viper—any random shock might push Sasuke toward obsession too soon.
Sasuke stepped closer, eyes burning. "I know you're strong, but I don't believe I'll lose."
He lifted his chin. "I want a real match, serious."
In those stubborn black eyes shone an unyielding light.
Mamoru held his gaze, then surrendered to the sheer stubbornness. He exhaled, scratched his hair in resignation.
He conceded, "Alright, but we do it somewhere else."
Goal achieved, Sasuke's lips twitched, almost a smile, before coolness returned.
"You pick the place."
He turned and walked away.
Watching him go, Mamoru felt a headache coming on. Sasuke had challenged him plenty of times before. He always dodged but this time, there'd be no escape.
At school, Sasuke topped every grade: model student, teachers' darling.
Mamoru's marks hovered safely average, never showing more than the minimum to pass.
Put the two side by side and it was no wonder Sasuke thought himself the strongest.