The clearing echoed with the sound of kunai as two individuals ran circles around one another, their feet moving fast and light, both trying to outpace and outsmart the other.
On the surface, they were evenly matched. But look closer, and it was clear—the taller of the two was gaining the upper hand.
An almost noiseless interval elapsed between them as they eyed each other, their sharp eyes dissecting the most minute motions and shifts in posture. Neither budged.
The silence lasted but moments. Within moments, they advanced, crashing together once more.
Their attack was continuous, a flurry of kunai and shuriken flashing in the fading light as they struck and deflected with liquid accuracy. But then their projectiles ran out, strewn about the ground, and they were down to only their jutsu and pure physical skill.
The other shorter one jabbed first, hishands going in lightning fast seals before exhaling—a ball of blazing fire dragon shot his way. The taller one refused to be affected, dodged easily, counterattacking a gigantic fireball that illuminated the battlefield with burning flames.
The fight went on. Their jutsu battled, fire raging insanely in the evening, until their chakra was depleted. But even when their strength was exhausted, their combat did not cease.
They resorted to taijutsu, fists and feet battering with power and precision, their bodies guided by instinct alone.
It seemed that they would continue to fight on and on, neither of them giving in. Their determination was as hot as the fire jutsu had been hot to scorch the earth under their feet.
The sun had passed the horizon line, coloring the sky in swirls of orange and red. They were in ragged breaths, yet neither was going to give up. Sweat dripped from their brows, yet their eyes remained fixed, filled with unflinching determination.
The shorter, his face grim, cleaned the blood from his lips. The taller repeated the motion, shrugging his shoulders as if shedding the tiredness creeping into his muscles.
All was still, for a moment—a silence broken only by the wind raging against the trees, scattering with it the fading sparks of their fire jutsu.
And then, out of nowhere, they clashed again. Palms slapped fists, ribs were hit with knees, and the thudding sound of impact echoed in the clearing. The shorter of the two moved fast, bobbing between the taller one's strikes, seeking an opening.
He dodged a high kick, rotating his body to sweep the other's legs. But the taller one had anticipated that, leaping just in time, rotating midair before dropping his elbow onto the other's shoulder.
A quick growl had slipped from the shorter one's lips as he had rolled just out of reach, his fingers digging into the earth to stand up. His muscles screamed in pain, his body begged for rest, but his pride refused to let him stop.
He attacked the taller one again, pretending to go left before dodging right, aiming a quick jab at the taller one's ribcage.
But it was too late—his wrist was pinned. A split second later, a crushing weight flung him to the ground. Before he could roll, he was struck onto his back, dust and debris flying up into their faces.
He gasped, his eyes opening to the taller one, whose shadow fell across him, a kunai now lightly resting against his throat.
A smile played on the winner's lips. "Checkmate."
The loser grunted, eyes shut for a moment before letting out a hard breath. He turned his head to the side, looking at the sky reddening into dusk.
"Tch. I would have gotten you."
"You wish," the taller one chortled, moving back and extending his hand. "You're getting better, though. Nearly. Hn!"
The shorter one slapped his hand away before getting up of his own accord. "Soon, I will be victorious.Just wait until than!"
The older one crossed his arms, his smirk never fading. "Then you'd better keep training, Ot---."
The younger one wiped the sweat from his forehead, his gaze meeting his brother. For all his frustration at losing, he couldn't deny it—his An--- was strong.
Maybe the strongest in their entire clan.
But he refused to be left behind.
"Tomorrow. Same time," he declared, determination burning in his eyes.
The older one smiled back, his eyes on the younger one's back. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
The last rays of sunlight faded into the horizon. They stood side by side, their rivalry not vocal but unspoken. No amount of battles they engaged in would ever stop them from pushing themselves to be the best.
Because they were more than just fighters.
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Izuna woke with a jolt, his breath uneven, his small chest rising and falling rapidly. His black eyes, wide and unfocused, blinked against the dim morning light filtering through the paper windows of his room.
His body felt heavy, drenched in sweat, as if he had just stepped out of a river fully clothed. For a long moment, he didn't move, sitting upright on his futon, his damp clothes clinging to his skin.
His mind was still trapped in the remnants of that… dream? Memory?
He wasn't sure. It was the second time this had happened.Izuna clutched his blanket, his fingers tightening around the fabric as he tried to make sense of it. It felt real—far too real to be a simple dream.
Yet, he couldn't remember the faces. He could hear the voices, distant and distorted, but they held no shape, no identity. It was as if he had been nothing more than a bystander, watching events unfold rather than experiencing them himself.
Was that normal? Shouldn't a memory feel like his own?A shiver ran down his spine, and he exhaled sharply, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.
No, it didn't feel like a dream at all. It felt like a forgotten truth, buried deep in his mind, resurfacing only in fragments.
But there was no time to dwell on it now.With a sigh, Izuna finally pushed himself out of bed, the wooden floor cool beneath his bare feet. He pulled off his damp clothes, tossing them aside as he made his way to the bathing area.
The sensation of cold water against his skin helped shake off the last traces of lingering unease, replacing it with a newfound energy.
It was only when he stepped out, drying himself with a towel, that he suddenly remembered what day it was.His eyes widened slightly.
Today is the day.
Excitement bubbled in his chest. Today was his first day at the academy.He had been waiting for this moment for so long, training every day to prepare himself.
It was the final step before becoming a true shinobi. He could already picture it—learning new techniques, testing his abilities, meeting worthy opponents who would push him to grow even stronger.
A small smirk tugged at his lips as he quickly dressed.
He would become strong. Stronger than anyone else.
As he tied his belt, his thoughts drifted back to the events leading up to this day.It had all started on that fateful afternoon when he met her.
Miko. Or Uzumaki Miko.
After that encounter, he had returned home only to find his father and several clan members standing at the compound's gate, their expressions tense. They had been about to leave on a search mission—for him.
Apparently, he had been gone long enough to cause concern, and if he hadn't returned at that moment, the entire village would have been turned upside down to find him.He hadn't been able to escape the lecture that followed.
His father had dragged him home, where an even angrier mother was waiting. If he thought his father's scolding was bad, his mother's was far worse.
That night, he had promised himself he wouldn't wander off again.
But he hadn't expected Mika to return.Two days later, she had shown up at the same place, looking for him.
And from that day on, it became routine. Every morning, Izuna would train, while Mika played with the small fox he had never bothered to name.
It was she who finally gave the creature a name—Kitsuna.At first, he found it odd, but soon enough, it felt right.
After training, they would take short breaks, during which he taught her the basics of taijutsu. She was clumsy at first, her punches weak, her stance unsteady. But she was determined.
Every time she fell, she got back up. Every time she failed, she tried again. Izuna had to admit—he admired that about her.
Then, as the sun began to set, they would say goodbye to Kitsuna and part ways. He would escort Mika home before nightfall, and then he, too, would return home.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months.
Before he knew it, his fourth birthday had arrived. And with it, a surprise from his father—his academy notice.He had been ecstatic. The entrance exams had been easy—after all, he had been training for this moment since he could walk.
The written portion tested their knowledge of Konoha's history, basic jutsu theory, and self-introduction essays. Nothing too difficult. The physical test had been even simpler—running, agility drills, basic acrobatics.
For him, it was effortless.
For those who passed, academy life would begin in a week. For those who failed… they were sent home.
And now, after that long week of waiting, the day had finally arrived.
Izuna tightened tightened the belt around his waist, feeling the weight of anticipation settle in his chest.
Today, he would step into the academy for the first time. Today, he would prove himself.
He could hardly wait.
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Yo! I am back. I will post another chapter this week. So enjoy the new Chapter :)