Iroha's cheeks burned crimson. The blow from Seiran's palm had felt less like a hand strike and more like a direct hit to his face itself.
"Are you a Gentle Fist user?" Iroha gasped, stumbling backward.
"This is Gentle Fist," Seiran replied flatly, rolling his eyes.
Iroha's breath caught. He'd just denied it was Gentle Fist—Seiran had just confirmed it was. Was he being mocked?
Iroha clenched his fists, ready to argue, but words died in his throat. How could that be Gentle Fist? The numbing, electric shock tearing through his chest felt like a lightning strike, not the precise chakra disruption of the Hyuga technique. Yet as the memory of defeat settled into his bones, his eyes dimmed with acceptance.
"I lost," Iroha whispered.
Anko Mitarashi's jaw hung slack, as if someone could've stuffed food into her mouth without resistance.
"Winner: Seiran," Instructor Fujino announced after a beat, his voice carrying across the training grounds.
Rin Uchiha's pupils narrowed. She already knew Seiran was strong—but watching him dismantle Iroha so effortlessly still caught her off guard. That night by the Naka River, she thought, a slight smile tugging at her lips. That wasn't his limit, was it?
"Not bad," she said aloud, her voice carrying a challenge. "That kind of strength qualifies you to be my opponent."
Obito Uchiha watched Seiran walk back through the crowd of astonished faces and admiring stares. He sighed heavily. "It's embarrassing, you know? You're dragging the Hyuga name through the mud, and here I am, still dragging mine. How did you become a genius overnight while I'm stuck being dead weight?"
When Seiran returned, Anko cornered him with wide eyes. "Seiran, how'd you pull that off?"
Seiran raised an eyebrow and sighed. "Genius? I just study while you all sleep."
Anko pouted. "I'd believe a ghost. You're always sleeping in class—I've never seen you crack a book."
Seiran didn't bother answering.
Fujino composed himself and announced the next match. Years of teaching had given him practice handling surprises. I looked away at the crucial moment, he muttered inwardly, his eyes clouded with thought. That kid isn't dead last—he's a prodigy. But how did he beat Iroha? That speed, that technique... it wasn't quite Gentle Fist. I need to test his limits.
After a few more preliminary matches, Fujino's voice rang out across the grounds: "Next up: Rin Uchiha versus Seiran!"
The crowd erupted.
"Uchiha versus Hyuga!"
"Rin's been competing with Kakashi Hatake as the top genius. Can Seiran handle her?"
"Hard to say. He beat Iroha, but Rin's on another level entirely."
Seiran's scalp tingled. Of everyone present, Rin Uchiha was the last person he wanted to face. That night by the Naka River still lingered in his mind like an unresolved question.
Sure enough, the moment they stood opposite each other on the training grounds, Rin's first words were:
"Seiran, do you remember that night on the banks of the Naka River?"
The training grounds went silent. Even Iroha, still recovering from his loss, froze. Every head turned toward them, mouths agape in shock.
No way.
They didn't...
One Hyuga, one Uchiha...
Scandalous!
The girls in the crowd were already weaving elaborate fantasies in their heads. Anko Mitarashi's lips curved into a mischievous, knowing smile as she glanced between Seiran and Rin. So much for my dead-last desk mate and the Uchiha prodigy.
The atmosphere crackled with sudden tension.
Seiran awkwardly shifted his weight, wishing the earth would swallow him whole. He really hadn't expected Rin to bring it up so blatantly, in front of everyone.
What exactly happened that night on the banks of the Naka River? The unspoken question hung in the air like smoke.
Rin Uchiha didn't wait for a response. Her eyes sharpened, and she hurled several shuriken in rapid succession. Mid-flight, the projectiles collided with each other, their trajectories warping to form a massive black net that sealed off every escape route.
"Advanced throwing technique!" Fujino couldn't help but admire it. A method that used collision to alter trajectories was rare, even among Uchiha shinobi.
Seiran had no choice but to defend.
What unfolded was extraordinary. No matter the angle of attack, Seiran blocked or dodged with preternatural ease—as if the shuriken themselves were avoiding him. The projectiles would pass inches from his body, their paths subtly shifting at the last instant.
"Are the shuriken afraid of him?" someone in the crowd murmured stupidly.
"Nonsense! Shuriken aren't alive!"
"Look closer," another spectator turned around. "He's not dodging them. They're dodging him."
The doubter leaned forward, and his jaw dropped. Just as each shuriken was about to connect, its trajectory would curve, passing harmlessly by. The subtle shift allowed Seiran to navigate the barrage with ease.
Rin Uchiha's eyes narrowed dangerously. A terrible suspicion formed—then immediately crumbled. "No, that's impossible. He's Hyuga Clan. He shouldn't be able to do that."
Realizing the shuriken attack was futile, Rin abandoned it. She gripped a kunai and shot toward Seiran like an arrow, closing the distance in an instant.
Hand-to-hand combat erupted between them.
The longer they fought, the deeper the shock etched itself into Rin's face.
"Sure enough! That night really wasn't your limit!"
During their sparring by the river, she'd been able to trade blows with him. Now, she was being systematically overpowered. The Byakugan's precision combined with his raw physical speed gave him an overwhelming advantage.
"Hmph!" Rin spat, gritting her teeth. "If I'd opened my Sharingan, you wouldn't have it so easy!"
She retreated sharply, abandoning close-range combat. Awakening the Sharingan required far more effort than the Byakugan—at this stage, she couldn't win a taijutsu fight against his Gentle Fist.
While jumping backward to create distance, Rin's hands blurred through seals. Her mouth opened, and fire erupted.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
Ninjutsu? At their level?
Fujino's pupils contracted. Students who could use C-rank techniques were undoubtedly geniuses. He instinctively moved to intervene, but hesitated for one crucial second—and the attack arrived.
The massive orange-red fireball engulfed Seiran's position. Flames scattered across the training ground, heating the air until it shimmered.
"Did it hit?" Anticipation flickered in Rin's eyes.
The flames dispersed. Smoke rose, revealing... nothing. A faint voice came from behind her.
"You should know the Great Fireball can't kill people."
Behind her? When?
Rin's pupils dilated violently. She twisted her body desperately to dodge, but it was too late. Her back erupted with the sensation of being struck by lightning. A blue arc exploded against her vest, launching her forward with brutal force.
Seiran lowered his hand, watching Rin's still form on the ground. She'd pushed him harder than expected, but the lengthy charge time of her Great Fireball had given him the opening he needed—he'd simply circled around using the flames as cover and delivered the finishing blow.
"Are you okay?" Seiran stepped forward, extending his hand.
Suddenly—whoosh!
Rin's hand shot up, and a kunai flew toward him. But a split-second before impact, the projectile's trajectory curved, passing his face in a clean arc.
Rin's eyes flashed from the ground. "Magnet Release... So you've awakened a dual kekkei genkai!"
The crowd erupted into chaos.
"Dual kekkei genkai? Magnet Release?"
"What is that?"