Training Ground No. 7 was drowned in silence. The early morning breathed cool air; wisps of mist still clung to the tall grass.
Sakura shifted nervously from foot to foot, unable to find peace. Sasuke stood leaning against an oak trunk, eyes closed, breathing evenly—conserving energy. Naruto sat on the grass in a lotus position. His Qi methodically circulated through his meridians, dispelling the morning dampness and warming his muscles from the inside.
Sensei was late. Again.
Almost four hours passed before a lazy Poof announced his arrival. Kakashi appeared on the central post, not looking up from his little orange book.
"Good morning, team," he said sluggishly. "Ready?"
"You're late!" Sakura shrieked instantly.
Ignoring her, Kakashi jumped to the ground and placed an old-fashioned alarm clock on a stump.
"Alright. Timer started... until noon." The chime of two small bells tied to his belt cut the air. "Your task is to take these from me. Those who fail will go without lunch. And..." his single visible eye narrowed, "since there are three of you and two bells, at least one of you will be sent back to the Academy."
Sakura gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth. Sasuke tensed, his gaze sharpening predatorily.
"Attack with the intent to kill. Otherwise, you won't stand a chance," Kakashi turned a page. "...Begin!"
Rustle of foliage—Sakura and Sasuke instantly vanished into the bushes, taking positions.
Naruto remained standing in the center of the clearing.
Kakashi lazily looked up from the lines.
"Hmm? Not going to hide?"
"What's the point?" Naruto asked calmly. "As long as you're on guard, it's useless. You know where we are anyway."
Fingers formed the cross seal.
"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!"
Poof! Poof! Poof!
Twenty solid clones filled the clearing, encircling the jonin.
"Wow," Kakashi commented without closing his book. "Impressive. Your best trick right from the start?"
The crowd of clones silently rushed to attack.
A sigh. Kakashi dodged the first fist without even looking. Blocked the second with his elbow, continuing to read. He moved with a lazy, insulting grace. Clones popped one after another, unable to even touch the green vest.
Impressive chakra volume, the jonin noted, sending another copy flying with a casual kick. But no tactics. As expected—brute force and pressure.
He looked up. The clearing was empty again. The last clone dissipated into smoke.
So, that's one. Will the others come out on their own?
Sasuke flew out from the shadows of the trees.
The attack was fast. The best Taijutsu of the graduating class. A series of precise, hard kicks—head, torso, sweep.
Kakashi blocked everything with one hand, still not letting go of the book with the other.
"Shinobi Art Number One: Taijutsu," he muttered. "You're not bad. But..."
Sasuke jumped back, fingers flashing through seals. Lungs drew in air.
"Katon: Gokakyu no Jutsu! (Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!)"
A roaring sphere of flame rushed toward the jonin, scorching the grass.
"...too predictable," Kakashi finished.
The flames subsided. A charred log smoked in the teacher's place.
Kawarimi.
"Behind you!" instincts howled, but it was too late.
"Shinobi Art Number Two: Ninjutsu..." a whisper sounded right over his ear. "A shinobi should not let someone get behind them."
Sasuke tried to turn for a strike, but Kakashi's fingers had already formed the Tiger seal.
"Shinobi Art Number Three: Genjutsu."
"Huh?!"
The world around changed. Kakashi's voice seemed to come from the sky.
"Sakura! Watch out! Sasuke... he's covered in blood!"
Sakura, hiding in bushes fifty meters away, screamed. Reality blurred. She saw Sasuke—pierced by a dozen kunai, wheezing, bleeding out on the grass.
"Sasuke-kun!!!"
Horror overloaded her nervous system. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed in a faint.
One down, Kakashi stated.
He easily dodged Sasuke's panicked, furious strike, not even bothering to trap him in an illusion. Just read his book while the Uchiha slashed at the air, unable to touch the lazily dodging shadow.
"Do you really think you can reach me?" the bored tone hurt more than a slap.
This enraged the Uchiha completely. A desperate lunge forward.
The book snapped shut.
"Alright, lesson over."
Disappearance. Reappearance behind the back. A hard kick.
Sasuke's scream echoed across the training ground, cut short by a splash of water in the river.
Second down, Kakashi dusted off his palms. So. Where is the original?
His gaze swept the perimeter. The clearing was empty. Too quiet.
He couldn't find Naruto.
...
The real Naruto hadn't moved since the start of the fight.
He sat in the dense undergrowth, merged with the shadows. Eyes closed. Sight was only a hindrance now.
He wasn't "looking." He was listening.
Qi Sensory, expanded to the limit, read the vibrations of space. He heard the rhythm of Kakashi's breathing—calm, almost sleepy during the fight with the clones. The barely noticeable muscle tension during the Fireball. And again absolute calm as he humiliated Sasuke in Taijutsu.
He listened to the jonin's heartbeat. He studied the patterns.
He waited for a window of opportunity. And it opened.
The second Kakashi straightened up after kicking Sasuke to look around. A moment of micro-relaxation. A blind spot.
Attack.
No sound. No crack of a twig, no rustle of a sole. The body, guided by Qi, moved with perfect, ghostly efficiency. Not the lunge of a predator, but the glide of the wind.
Kakashi, expecting another "crude" strike from a berserker clone, instinctively threw up his left arm for a hard block. He didn't even turn his head, relying on reflex.
Slap.
But there was no impact.
Instead of the expected collision of bones, the jonin's wrist met softness.
Foreign fingers closed on his arm. Not a rigid grip, but a fluid, viscous contact. The inertia of the block was intercepted, redirected, and used against the owner. Kakashi's arm was pulled aside, opening his torso's defense as if flinging doors wide open.
The jonin's head snapped to the side. The single visible eye widened in genuine shock.
Naruto was already delivering the second strike—with an open palm, precise, without a wind-up, aiming for the bells.
This is... the thought flashed like lightning through Kakashi's brain as his body reflexively tried to break the strange hold. This is not the Academy. Not the Uchiha style. This is... I don't know what this is. Where does this boy get such Taijutsu?!