Jogendra's POV:
The Fire Country Annual Youth Ninja Competition had ignited into a wildfire, each match fanning the flames higher. The air crackled as Yammy Akimichi's victory over Ririn Yamanaka faded into echoes, the crowd's roars still ringing through the stands like a storm that wouldn't break. I stood among the Uchiha contingent, arms crossed, my mind a whirlwind of tactics and observations—every fight a ledger entry I couldn't ignore. My Father Madara flanked me, his stoic mask unyielding, dark eyes glinting with quiet calculation. My Grandfather Tajima radiated pride beside him, while My Uncle Izuna lounged, tossing smirks and quips like kunai. "Big guy's got some punch," he said, nodding at Yammy's exit. "Wonder who's next to get flattened." I smirked back. "Hope they've got good insurance."
The sun dipped low, casting the arena in gold and shadow—a battlefield painted for warriors. My gaze flicked upward, catching a flicker of movement in the Fire Daimyō's shadowed overhang. Black Zetsu emerged, his dark, fluid form melting into the gloom—late to the party, missing the earlier clashes. His single yellow eye glinted, unnoticed by most, but my Observation Haki pinged. What was he doing here now? I filed it away, curiosity prickling like an overdue report.
The host strode forward, crimson robes flaring, voice booming over the murmurs. "Ladies and gentlemen, brace yourselves for the seventh match!" The crowd hushed, tension coiling tight. "On the green side, from the esteemed Senju clan—the adopted daughter of Tobirama Senju, Soifon Senju!"
Soifon stepped into the ring, and the air shifted. Long dark hair flowed like ink, streaked with red that screamed Uzumaki blood, her emerald eyes sharp with quiet resolve. Her lithe frame moved with a predator's grace, and whispers erupted—*"Tobirama's daughter?" "Adopted when?"* My brow furrowed. In the Naruto I knew, Tobirama had no heirs, adopted or not. This parallel universe kept twisting, and Soifon was proof—Senju vitality fused with Uzumaki chakra, wielding Wood Style, yet not Asura's reincarnation. A wildcard.
Black Zetsu stiffened in the shadows, a ripple of shock I caught from the corner of my eye. She wasn't just a Senju—she was a fusion of two titan bloodlines, a revelation even he hadn't foreseen.
"And on the red side, from the resilient Uzumaki clan—Aaroniero Uzumaki!"
Aaroniero strode in, crimson braid tight, amber eyes blazing with fierce intent. His lean frame pulsed with Uzumaki vitality, a sealing master ready to prove his clan's mettle. The host's hand dropped. "Begin!"
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#### The Seventh Match: Soifon Senju vs. Aaroniero Uzumaki
Soifon struck first, seals flashing like lightning. "Wood Style: Deep Forest Emergence!" The ground roared, roots bursting forth—twisting, living serpents racing toward Aaroniero. The crowd gasped—Wood Style, Hashirama's lost art, alive again. Aaroniero's eyes widened, but his hands moved fast. "Adamantine Sealing Chains!" Golden chains erupted from him, clashing with the roots in a deafening crash—wood splintered, chains held, debris raining down.
Soifon's lips twitched into a faint smile. She leapt back, seals weaving anew. "Water Style: Raging Waves!" A torrent surged from her palms, a wall of water crashing toward Aaroniero. He countered, voice steady. "Uzumaki Sealing Technique: Chakra Suppression Barrier!" A glowing dome flared, parting the waves harmlessly. The stands erupted, enthralled.
I watched, pulse quickening. Soifon's blend was seamless—Wood Style's power, Uzumaki's control. Aaroniero matched her with raw resilience, his chains a fortress. He pressed forward, hands glowing. "Fūinjutsu: Eight Trigrams Sealing Circle!" Seals flared beneath Soifon, a trap snapping shut. She vaulted upward, dodging, and retaliated. "Wood Style: Smothering Binding Technique!" Vines lashed out, coiling around Aaroniero's limbs. He grunted, chakra surging. "Uzumaki Secret Technique: Chakra Chain Explosion!" The chains detonated, shattering the vines, forcing Soifon to shield with a wooden wall.
Fifteen minutes of relentless fury followed—Aaroniero's "Adamantine Barrage" sent chains whipping through the air, Soifon weaving through with agile grace. She countered with "Wood Style: Great Spear Tree," a towering trunk piercing the earth, nearly pinning Aaroniero. He dodged, breathless but unbroken.
Soifon's Uzumaki stamina tipped the scales. She clapped her hands. "Wood Style: Nativity of a World of Trees!" The arena became a forest, trees erupting, branches snaring Aaroniero. He slashed with chains, fighting to the end, but Soifon's final move struck. "Uzumaki Sealing Technique: Life Binding Seal!" A sigil glowed on his chest, draining his chakra. He collapsed, spent.
The host raised an arm. "Winner: Soifon Senju!"
Cheers thundered. Soifon nodded to Aaroniero as he rose, a silent salute. My mind raced—her victory was a banner, a fusion of legends. Black Zetsu's tremble confirmed it: she was a curveball even he couldn't predict.
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#### The Eighth Match Announcement
The host's voice cut through again. "And now—the eighth match!" My blood surged. This was my time.
"On the green side, from the resourceful Sarutobi clan—Ryu Sarutobi!"
Ryu stepped up, wiry and sharp, black hair tousled, dark eyes glinting with fire. His gi bore the Sarutobi crest, stance loose but ready—a spark waiting to blaze. He'd beaten Shinoe Aburame earlier; this was round two for him.
"And on the red side, from the indomitable Uchiha clan—Jogendra Uchiha!"
The crowd's roar hit like a tidal wave as I walked forward, crimson eyes flaring with the Sharingan, smirk sharp as a blade. My tunic rippled, and I felt every gaze—Senju, Uzumaki, all of them—lock onto me. The host's hand fell. "Begin!"
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#### The Eighth Match: Ryu Sarutobi vs. Jogendra Uchiha
Ryu opened with taijutsu—"Monkey Fist Style," a Sarutobi hallmark. His strikes were a blur, agile and precise, targeting my joints. I met him with Rokushiki—*Soru* blurring my steps, *Tekkai* hardening my frame. My fists gleamed with Armament Haki, purplish-black, turning punches into steel. Ryu grinned, leaping back. "Not bad!" Seals flashed. "Fire Style: Flame Bullet!" Fireballs streaked toward me.
I countered, palms igniting. "Frozen Flame of the Flame Master!" Icy-blue flames roared out, clashing with Ryu's fire—a paradox of frost and heat. His attack froze mid-air, encased in ice, shattering to the ground. The crowd gasped, murmurs rippling. *"Fire that freezes?"* Tobirama's eyes narrowed from the Senju stand, Soifon tilting her head. I smirked wider. Truck-kun's gifts kept paying off.
Ryu clapped his hands. "Summoning Jutsu!" Smoke billowed, and Mamoru appeared—a towering silver-furred monkey, eyes piercing. "Push him back!" Ryu shouted. Mamoru charged, Ryu weaving seals. "Earth Style: Underground Bearing Technique!" The ground caved beneath me, a pit swallowing me whole. Mamoru traced a pattern—"Fūinjutsu: Stone Prison Seal"—runes glowing, locking me in. The crowd held its breath.
The earth quaked. Cracks split the seal, and with a bellowing roar, Zōnotatakai erupted forth—the Fighting Elephant, massive and scarred, me perched atop its head, unscathed. Mamoru froze. "Zōnotatakai?! Why with an Uchiha?!"
The elephant's voice rumbled. "I am Jogendra Uchiha's summon. Zoshima, home of the Elephant Summoning Beasts, stands with the Uchiha in permanent alliance."
Ryu blinked, turning to Mamoru. "What's this thing?"
Mamoru's tone darkened. "Zōnotatakai, Elephant of the Clouds—one of Zoshima's strongest. Zenzō, the Elephant God, their Sage Aged One, is unmatched. Long ago, the Senju and Uzumaki founders sought his alliance… and were denied. A shame they buried."
The Senju and Uzumaki recoiled—Butsuma's face twisted, Hashirama's fists clenched, Tobirama's glare sharpened, Soifon's jaw dropped. I leaned forward, stunned. "True, Zōnotatakai?"
"Yes," he rumbled. "I saw it as a youngling, Ganesha's age now. Zenzō judged them unworthy."
Black Zetsu quivered in the shadows, reeling. Even he hadn't known this lost history—Asura's failure exposed. The air thickened, the match now a stage for buried truths.
I refocused, Sharingan spinning. "Let's finish it." Zōnotatakai charged, trunk smashing Mamoru's guard. I leapt down, *Rankyaku* unleashing Haki-laced air blades. Ryu countered—"Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu!"—but my "Frozen Flame" snuffed it, ice creeping up his arms. Zōnotatakai pinned him underfoot, my kunai at his throat. Ryu sighed, raising a hand.
The host bellowed, "Winner: Jogendra Uchiha!"
The crowd erupted, but my mind lingered on Zoshima's revelation—a wound reopened for our rivals, a triumph for the Uchiha. My Father Madara's nod met me as I returned, My Grandfather Tajima's grin wide, My Uncle Izuna's laugh sharp. "You just rewrote history, nephew!"
The sun sank, shadows deepening. My blood sang—more battles loomed, and I was ready.
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