The blond-haired boy standing on the platform smiled brightly.
"...Ahaha." Minato found himself unable to get a word in.
"Mizumon, listen to my advice." Uchiha Tatsumi stood opposite him with a calm expression. "Right now, you're not my match. If you want to save your strength for the next round, it's better to surrender now."
"Thanks for the warning, but I still want to fight you." Minato's voice was firm, his eyes unwavering.
Tatsumi knew his friend well. Once Minato made up his mind, he wouldn't back down. He didn't push the matter further.
Shaking his head with a resigned smile, Minato reached into his pocket and pulled out two cotton balls.
"I've watched your matches, Chen. You rely heavily on visual and auditory genjutsu. It's tough to counter, but I've thought of something."
Minato stuffed the cotton into his ears and looked down, avoiding Tatsumi's hands and focusing on his legs.
"As long as I can't hear you, and I'm not looking at your hands… I should be okay. Let's begin."
Tatsumi nodded silently.
There were indeed ways to counter genjutsu, and without the Sharingan, Tatsumi relied on sound and sight to cast it. If Minato had Taijutsu on the level of Maito Dai, avoiding illusion might be possible.
But this wasn't the "Yellow Flash" of the future. He was still a second-year Academy student, clever but limited by his training.
Tatsumi flicked his wrist and threw several shuriken toward Minato.
The students gathered around the arena leaned in. This was an unusual match—one opponent unable to see or hear properly.
The shuriken flew with blinding speed. Minato reacted a moment too late—two grazed his cheeks, leaving thin red lines.
The aim was intentional. Tatsumi had held back.
Minato remained calm. "I've trained for this. Don't expect cheap tricks to work."
He batted away a returning shuriken and narrowed his eyes at his opponent.
"Good." Tatsumi formed hand seals.
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!" (Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique)
A massive ball of flame surged from his mouth—one of the signature techniques of the Uchiha clan.
Minato instantly used the Kawarimi no Jutsu, vanishing in a puff of smoke as the fireball slammed into a log in his place.
Emerging from the side, Minato hurled several kunai toward Tatsumi, attempting to suppress his movements.
Tatsumi deflected them easily.
"You're treating me like a pure ninjutsu user?" he said, more to the audience than his deaf friend.
He responded with a kunai of his own, deflecting all of Minato's in midair. His throws were on another level.
Jiraiya, watching from the sidelines, whistled. "That's some precision."
As Minato formed a new set of hand seals, Tatsumi noticed.
"Fūton: Kaze no Yaiba!" (Wind Style: Wind Blade Technique)
This was a technique Tatsumi had personally passed on to Minato, knowing his natural wind affinity.
Tatsumi used a substitution again, appearing to Minato's flank.
His kunai flashed as he slashed toward Minato's arm, only to be blocked in time.
The two engaged in close combat. Tatsumi's roundhouse kick landed on Minato's side, making him stagger. Minato retaliated with a punch, but Tatsumi parried it effortlessly and countered with a sharp knee to the gut, followed by a spinning kick that sent Minato stumbling.
Minato was at a clear disadvantage in Taijutsu.
Not wanting to drag the fight out or reveal more, Tatsumi stepped back and threw another kunai—this one aimed low, near Minato's leg.
Missed?
The crowd whispered.
But the kunai bounced midair off another, changing direction in an impossible curve—heading straight for Minato's face.
Jiraiya leaned forward. "That's some next-level throwing technique…"
Minato instinctively looked up to track it.
And in that split second—he saw Tatsumi's fingers move.
"...Sleep."
There were no illusion-dispelling lessons at the Academy. Those came later, after graduation.
No matter how talented Minato would become, now he was just a boy with no training in genjutsu defense.
His legs wobbled. Then he crumpled to the ground, fast asleep.
"For a true genjutsu user, even a twitch of the fingers is enough," Tatsumi said as he brushed off his cloak and walked to lift his unconscious friend.
The arena erupted.
"So cool!"
"Chen! Chen! Chen!"
Jiraiya stared at the boy with awe. "Is this the difference between me and a prodigy…?"
---
"Chen, are you hurt?!"
Tatsumi had barely stepped off the platform before Mikoto was at his side, eyes locked on the shallow cut on his arm, where blood still trickled.
"It's nothing." Tatsumi waved it off.
But Mikoto wasn't satisfied. She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the med area.
To where Tsunade-sama was stationed.
Meanwhile, poor Minato was still snoring on the ground.