The sky above Training Ground Thirteen was cloudless, the early afternoon sun casting sharp shadows across the earth. A breeze rustled the trees as two figures stood across from each other in the center of the clearing.
Uchiha Kagami. Hyuga Indra.
One a seasoned war veteran with eyes like crimson mirrors. The other, a prodigious shinobi—just twelve years old, but already standing at the doorstep of greatness.
The tension was palpable.
"Begin," Kagami said, activating his Sharingan.
He moved first.
A blur of motion. In an instant, he was in front of Indra, fist coming down like a hammer. Indra barely ducked, the force of the blow cracking the earth behind him. He retaliated with a burst of chakra-enhanced speed, palm strikes flowing in rapid succession.
The two danced—taijutsu clashing, chakra colliding.
"He's already pushing Indra back," Jiraiya muttered, arms crossed as he watched from the tree line.
Asahi stood beside him, her arms folded calmly. "Watch closely."
Kagami vanished again, reappearing behind Indra and swinging a leg for a sweep. Indra flipped away, throwing down smoke bombs mid-air. Wind Release surged through the haze—blades of compressed air tearing toward Kagami.
Kagami weaved a single sign. "Fire Style: Fire Dragon Flame Bullet."
A massive torrent of flame roared forward, devouring the wind. Indra countered, slamming his palms together—Earth Style: Earth Wall. The stone barrier rose just in time to shield him, scorched black from the impact.
"Still holding back," Orochimaru observed with narrowed eyes. "He hasn't used the Mangekyō."
"He doesn't need to," Tsunade added. "But look at Indra. He's not going down easy."
From behind the cover, Indra launched himself, spinning through the air with a clone flanking each side. They hit the ground together—chakra surging through their palms.
Twin Lion Fist.
Kagami clashed with one, ducked under the second, and grabbed the third clone's arm—only for it to explode in a Wind Release trap. He shot backward, only to meet another barrage: Eight Trigrams: 128 Palms.
He flipped mid-air and landed on a branch, smirking. "You've come a long way."
Then he vanished again.
Indra spun just in time, Rotation activating in a perfect arc. Chakra flared violently from his palms, forcing Kagami to disengage.
"That movement…" Jiraiya leaned forward. "Was that—?"
"Yes," Asahi said quietly. "He based it on our clan's Rotation technique."
"But that last move…" Jiraiya's eyes narrowed. "That wasn't a Hyuga technique."
Asahi's lips curved into a faint smile. "No. That's something he created. He calls it Rasengan."
"Rasen—what?"
"It's an A-rank, seal-less ninjutsu. He formed it by studying the Rotation's chakra manipulation. But instead of defense, it condenses and spirals the chakra into destructive force."
On the battlefield, Indra's chakra flared wildly.
Wind spun in his hand—dense, compact, and violently unstable.
"Rasengan!"
He dashed forward, the orb humming with raw power. Kagami's eyes widened slightly—the only sign of surprise—as he raised both hands, chakra building.
The impact cracked the earth in a perfect spiral, kicking up a dome of dust.
When it cleared, Kagami stood with one hand steaming from the clash, the Rasengan's power having torn through his defenses.
"Now that," Kagami said, grinning, "is impressive."
Indra panted lightly, but his eyes remained focused. His chakra surged again.
From the sidelines, Orochimaru spoke softly, "He's still going."
Indra's shadow clones reappeared, lashing out with coordinated taijutsu, Wind-enhanced strikes, and traps. Kagami parried, countered, and weaved through them, his Sharingan analyzing every angle.
But the attacks kept coming.
Air Palm. Earth Spear. Chakra-Enhanced Gentle Fist.
Every strike exploded with precision and power. Each feint was laced with tactical intent. Kagami dodged a rotation, only to meet a Wind Bullet to the chest. He slid backward, finally exhaling.
"Alright, Indra," he said, smiling with rare warmth. "You've truly grown."
Asahi's eyes shimmered with quiet pride.
Tsunade crossed her arms. "That's a future Hokage, right there."
Jiraiya scoffed. "Only if he doesn't burn out first."
The fight slowed, both figures catching their breath. Kagami had not drawn his Mangekyō Sharingan—not out of mercy, but out of respect. This fight was to test Jonin-level skill. And Indra had not only passed…
He had stood equal.
From the first clash, Kagami knew: this wasn't a boy anymore.
Every movement from Indra was precise, refined. There was no excess, no waste. His chakra control was impeccable, his eyes calm and calculating. He's not just fighting to win, Kagami thought, he's fighting to learn.
When Indra's Rasengan hit, Kagami felt it—not just in his bones, but in his soul.
This is original. This is personal.
As he recovered from the impact, Kagami asked, "You made that?"
Indra didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Kagami's Sharingan tracked him, but even then, it was difficult to anticipate everything. This boy was fusing Hyuga tradition with innovations the clan had never dared consider. Earth chakra reinforcing taijutsu? Wind techniques from shadow clones? That kind of growth should've taken decades.
He glanced at Asahi. She wasn't surprised. Of course not. She'd been by his side the whole way.
Kagami activated his Sharingan fully—but still held back the Mangekyō.
Not yet.
Every strike Indra landed, every jutsu he unleashed, echoed with purpose. Kagami realized he wasn't just facing a student—he was facing a force of will.
This boy… this Hyuga was going to tear tradition down.
"Is this what it feels like… to know your student will surpass you?"
Kagami thought of war. Of blood. Of brothers and comrades buried beneath scorched soil.
And now, this child—his student—was forging a new path. A dangerous one, but necessary.
------
The dust had only just begun to settle. Indra stood in the middle of the training field, his breathing even despite the intensity of the fight. Kagami, though clearly the victor, wore a look of subdued satisfaction. Around them, the watching crowd slowly approached—Asahi, calm and unsurprised, followed by the wide-eyed trio of Team Seven.
"That was insane…" Jiraiya muttered, his mouth half-open. "What was that jutsu?! That wasn't anything I've ever seen!"
"An original technique," Asahi said softly, stepping forward. "Indra created it. It's called the Rasengan. An A-rank, seal-less offensive jutsu, inspired by our clan's Rotation technique… But instead of defense, it's pure offense."
Even Orochimaru's eyes narrowed in interest, and Tsunade raised an eyebrow in admiration. "You took the chakra flow mechanics of Rotation and compressed it into a high-speed sphere… that's genius," she said. "No seals. Just raw chakra shape and control."
Kagami gave Indra a firm nod. "You've surpassed expectations. Your chakra control, taijutsu, elemental manipulation… and that Rasengan—you've forged your own path. You're no longer a prodigy. You're a true shinobi."
Indra gave a polite bow, hiding the flicker of pride behind his usual calm.
But not everyone felt the same.
Daichi stood off to the side, his fists clenched. His eyes weren't on Kagami or Team Seven. They were fixed on Indra—on the praise, the admiration, the attention that always seemed to find him.
Again… Daichi's mind seethed. It's always him. Always Indra.
Six years of training, of sweat, of pushing his body and chakra to the brink—and still, he couldn't catch up. Indra had the Byakugan, perfect chakra control, elemental mastery, and now his own jutsu. Asahi was no less impressive—graceful, strong, already mastering advanced Hyuga techniques.
And him?
He was still the one who hadn't awakened his Sharingan.
Still the weakest.
A slow burn ignited inside him. Something deep. Twisted. Hungry.
As the others talked, his breath hitched. His heart pounded harder. And then—it happened.
The world shifted.
Suddenly everything looked sharper. The air shimmered with chakra threads he had never seen before. His vision pulsed red for a moment—two tomoe spiraling in each eye before vanishing just as quickly.
Daichi's eyes widened, then narrowed. He stepped back, quiet.
No one had seen it.
Finally…
But there was no joy in his heart. Only bitterness. Resentment. Hatred—aimed at Indra.
He deactivated his Sharingan and forced a small smile as he walked back toward the others, saying nothing. Inside, however, a vow had already taken root.
I'll train in secret. I won't fall behind again. I'll surpass Indra… in the Chunin Exams, I'll defeat him.
The others laughed and talked, unaware. Kagami turned to them with a relaxed tone, "We'll take the afternoon off. You all earned it."
Daichi nodded along with the others, his thoughts already elsewhere. He wasn't ready to lose again.
Not next time.
-------
As the dust settled and the murmurs of awe faded, Indra stood in silence, his breathing slow but steady. His arms ached, his chakra coils throbbed, and sweat clung to his brow. Yet despite the exhaustion, a sense of calm washed over him.
He had done it.
He had stood his ground against Uchiha Kagami—the shinobi many in the village regarded as a legend in the shadows. And even though Kagami hadn't used his Mangekyō Sharingan, even though the man still held back, Indra had fought him to a standstill.
"But I didn't surpass him."
The thought was sharp, honest. Kagami had layers he had yet to reveal—his Mangekyō Sharingan remained a mystery. Indra knew Kagami's true strength likely stood at the Kage level. The Susanoo alone was a defense he couldn't yet break through. Not to mention the unique abilities Mangekyō granted. Kagami always brushed aside questions about them, smiling vaguely.
"A shinobi should always keep a few cards hidden," he would say.
Indra, by contrast, had shown everything—his Rasengan, his Hyūga techniques, his chakra nature combinations. He fought with no secrets. And yet… he had not broken through.
He clenched his fists.
This world was cruel. Strength wasn't just a goal—it was a necessity. And this lesson had been burned into him not just through training or spars—but through blood.
His mind drifted back to that mission—their first C-rank assignment, six years ago.
They had been tasked with guarding a merchant caravan traveling to the capital of the Land of Fire. It was supposed to be uneventful—just a longer walk, perhaps some bandits to scare off.
They never expected a real ambush.
Halfway through the dense forest road, a volley of shuriken burst from the trees. Bandits—real ones—armed with bloodlust, not fear. Indra remembered the chaos. How Daichi jumped into action, flinging fireballs. How Asahi had shielded the merchant's wagon with a flawless Rotation. And how he—Indra—stood face to face with a man twice his size, kunai clashing, chakra flaring.
In the middle of it all, something primal took over.
He had driven his kunai into the man's throat.
There had been no choice. No time to hesitate. If he had faltered, the bandit would've gutted him.
But that didn't make it easier.
The sensation of steel tearing through flesh, the gurgled gasp, the blood soaking his gloves—it haunted him. He vomited behind a tree once the skirmish ended, shaking, his hands numb.
That night, around a dim campfire, Kagami sat with him while Asahi kept a gentle hand on his back.
"You did what you had to," Kagami had said, voice low. "This world isn't fair. It will break you if you let it. The difference between living and dying is a second of hesitation. You chose to live. Don't forget that."
"But… I killed him," Indra whispered.
"You saved your team. And you'll do it again, someday. That's what it means to be a shinobi."
Asahi never left his side that night. She didn't speak much—just offered her quiet presence. She had seen the pain in his eyes and knew words wouldn't be enough. Her hand on his shoulder and the warmth of her chakra were all she gave—and it was all he needed.
Unlike her and Daichi, Indra wasn't born into this world ready to kill. In his past life, he'd been a vegetarian software engineer who couldn't stand the sight of blood. He used to look away when butchers prepared meat. Now, he stood ankle-deep in it.
He learned then: chakra was exciting. Training, growing stronger—fun.
But killing?
That wasn't fun. It was the price.
Back in the present, Indra exhaled deeply. The fight with Kagami had proven he was strong enough now—not just to survive, but to protect. He had carved out a place for himself in this world, earned with sweat and pain.
But the journey wasn't over.
Not until he truly surpassed Kagami.
And not until he changed the Hyūga Clan from within.
He looked over at Asahi, who met his gaze with a small, proud smile.
He nodded in return, the fire in his heart reignited.
Let the next challenge come. He was ready.