Training Ground 47.
Hizashi and Kurenai moved to the edge of the field, leaving space for Yami and Yugao.
Typically, the first test after graduation was an exercise like the bell test. However, since Yami's two teammates were already Chūnin, such a test would be pointless.
As for Yami…
Even if he did fail the test, would they really dare send him back to the Academy?
Wouldn't they be afraid of him showing up at night to "talk" things over?
Thus, the test became a round-robin sparring match between the three of them, everyone had to fight the other two team members once.
The first match was between Uzuki Yugao and Shimura Yami.
---
"Stop! No exploding tags or poison attacks!" Hizashi called out from the sidelines.
Yami glanced at him.
He had a sneaking suspicion that Hizashi had done some research on him, which was why he was so specific.
"Let's settle this with pure swordsmanship, then. How about it?" Yami suggested.
"Fine by me."
Yugao immediately shifted into a defensive stance, silently indicating that Yami should make the first move.
Yami didn't hesitate. He unsheathed his sword.
In that instant, Yugao felt the boy in front of her change.
Before drawing his sword, he had been nothing more than an ordinary, cute child.
But the moment his hand gripped the hilt, his entire being became an extension of the blade, exuding a sharp and lethal aura.
And then, there was the sword itself.
"Kusanagi Sword?" Yugao asked in shock.
"Yeah," Yami replied casually. "My grandfather gave it to me for my sixth birthday—got it from Orochimaru."
Yugao felt a pang of jealousy.
Kusanagi Sword. A sixth birthday present.
How infuriating.
For sword-wielding shinobi, the Kusanagi Sword was practically a legendary weapon. Owning one was the dream of every swordsman.
Yet Yami spoke about it so nonchalantly.
How could she not be jealous?
"I hope your swordsmanship is worthy of its name," Yugao said, trying to keep her composure.
Despite her words, her stance subtly shifted.
Moments ago, she had been waiting passively. But the instant Yami unsheathed his sword, she understood.
The boy in front of her wasn't a child. He was an opponent.
One she needed to take seriously.
---
"Here I come," Yami warned before lunging forward.
His speed was fast, but not to the extent of using the Body Flicker Technique.
Since this was a swordsmanship duel, he wouldn't rely on unfair advantages.
Blades clashed as their figures flickered across the training ground, colliding again and again.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Bright sparks flashed at the points of impact.
Yugao's heart pounded. She dug her toes into the ground and pushed off, retreating rapidly.
But Yami didn't let up.
His blade followed relentlessly, striking at angles that put her in the most uncomfortable positions.
Each time she attempted to counterattack, he seemed to anticipate her movements, striking at her weakest points and forcing her to change her approach.
Is this guy really not an Uchiha?!
She felt like she was fighting an Uchiha with an active Sharingan!
---
On the sidelines, Kurenai watched in astonishment.
"So this is a genius… He's keeping up with Yugao right after graduating. He's just like Kakashi."
Shimura Yami's performance reminded her of her old classmate. Kakashi had also been a prodigy known for his swordsmanship.
"Tying?" Hizashi muttered, his expression unreadable. "This isn't a tie…"
With his superior vision, he could clearly see Yugao's situation.
And it was worse than merely losing.
---
Clang!
The sound of metal clashing rang out.
Suddenly, Yami's strength surged. A gust of wind exploded outward, sending Yugao skidding back more than ten meters before she finally stabilized.
While there was a physical strength gap—after all, he was only seven—his exceptional chakra control allowed him to generate explosive bursts of power.
Similar to Tsunade's superhuman strength technique, but not quite as terrifying.
Yami shook his head slightly.
"Konoha-ryū kenjutsu is decent, but it's too basic. The upper limit is too low."
Despite its name, Konoha-style swordsmanship was nothing more than the foundation that anyone could learn. Even the taijutsu taught in the Academy was derived from it.
Uzuki Yugao's fundamentals were solid, but her movements were too rigid, her intentions were too easy to read.
"I haven't lost yet."
Yugao clenched her teeth.
Yami's casual evaluation annoyed her, but words were meaningless.
The only way to prove herself was through action.
She charged forward.
Her shoulders twitched ever so slightly, and two shadow clones split from her form.
The three Yugao moved simultaneously, attacking from three different angles—above, left, and right.
"Konoha-ryū: San Getsu no Mai! (Dance of the Three-Moon!)"
Yami scoffed.
His gaze locked onto the clone on the left.
A silver flash cut through the air.
The two other figures vanished in puffs of smoke.
When Yugao came to her senses, the Kusanagi Sword was already pressed against her throat.
One step further, and she would've been down.
Fortunately, Yami withdrew his blade.
"You seriously tried to use a technique you haven't fully mastered?"
"How did you figure out which one was real?" Yugao blurted out.
"Your Shadow Clone jutsu is sloppy. Your clones move slightly slower than your real body. The real one rushed ahead by half a step. Plus, the sound of your breathing was louder than the others."
Yami gave her a pointed look.
"If I couldn't see through that, I wouldn't be worthy of being a ninja."
Yugao felt her face burn with embarrassment.
She had thought she had mastered the technique, but now she realized how full of flaws it was.
---
"Alright, that's enough," Hizashi interjected, stepping forward to diffuse the tension.
If Yami kept talking, he was afraid one of his team members would completely lose their confidence.
Yugao stepped aside dejectedly.
Defeated in a sword fight by a seven-year-old.
She was not in a good mood.
---
"Kurenai, you're up next. You and Yami will spar."
"Ah? Oh—okay!"
Kurenai walked to the center, her body tense with nerves.
Her heart pounded in her chest.
What do I do? I'm scared.
Am I going to get cut down instantly?
To avoid looking too pitiful, she decided to take the initiative.
(To be continued.)
***
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