In the blink of an eye, school was over.
Normally, the classroom would empty out the moment the bell rang, but today, nearly a third of the students remained.
They'd stayed behind to witness the duel between Sarutobi Asuma and Yukawa.
The fight had stirred a lot of curiosity—after all, it was a hot topic.
Sarutobi Asuma: son of the Hokage, widely recognized as one of the class geniuses.
While not quite at Hatake Kakashi's level, he was still a well-known name in their year.
Yukawa: a transfer student. To most, he left no impression at all—neither troublemaker nor standout.
"Who do you think will win, Kakashi?" Rin Nohara asked, glancing at the two facing off in the center.
"No idea," Kakashi replied with a shake of his head.
"It's obviously going to be Asuma!" Obito Uchiha interjected. "He's the Hokage's son!"
"Not necessarily," Kakashi said. Yukawa seemed too calm—like someone who already knew the outcome.
"Then let's bet on it," Obito suggested, eyes gleaming.
"What kind of bet?" Kakashi paused. "If it's another duel, count me out."
"Hmph, it's not that."
Obito gave Rin a side glance. "Whoever loses has to treat Rin to dinner."
"Why am I the prize?" Rin blinked in surprise.
"Uh…" Obito blushed as she stared at him, suddenly tongue-tied.
"I'm in," Kakashi said flatly, clearly unconcerned.
"Perfect!" Obito's spirit soared.
Was this the romantic dinner he'd dreamed of?
"You two are impossible," Rin said with a helpless smile.
She was used to their constant competition.
Though Obito usually lost, maybe this time he'd win.
After all, she also believed Asuma had the upper hand.
As a civilian-born ninja, Rin was well aware of the advantages of coming from a shinobi clan.
On the field, Sarutobi Asuma furrowed his brows.
He hated being referred to as the Hokage's son more than anything.
No matter how great that man was, what did it have to do with him?
"Remember this—it's Sarutobi Asuma who defeated you!" he declared, glaring at Yukawa.
"..."
Yukawa's mouth twitched.
There it was again—his secondhand embarrassment acting up.
What kind of dramatic declaration was that?
Still, for a five- or six-year-old, it fit just right.
The crowd buzzed with excitement, all eyes locked on the two.
"Let's go!" Asuma raised both hands, basking in the spotlight.
Yukawa, expressionless, formed the Seal of Confrontation.
A traditional sign of respect before a duel.
Asuma did the same.
The moment the seal was formed, Asuma immediately threw two shuriken—one after another—angled sharply toward Yukawa's vital points.
It's worth noting: since this was just sparring, they were using wooden weapons.
The air whistled with their flight.
Yukawa responded in kind—two shuriken of his own.
Clang! Clang!
The blades collided midair.
Asuma's two shuriken were knocked to the ground, but Yukawa's kept going, spinning forward with undiminished momentum.
"No way!" Asuma's eyes widened in disbelief.
He remembered clearly—just a week ago, Yukawa couldn't even hit the target in Ninja Tool Throwing class.
Now he could deflect Asuma's shuriken?
That meant his skill—and strength—had already surpassed him.
How fast was his progress?!
Still stunned, Asuma's hands didn't slow. He quickly formed hand seals.
Substitution Jutsu!
A puff of smoke exploded.
Asuma's body vanished, reappearing a few feet to the left.
The shuriken pierced into the smoke with a thud-thud, embedding into a wooden log that had replaced him.
Substitution Jutsu was, at its core, a sleight of hand.
When used skillfully, it could look like teleportation.
"Your shuriken's not bad… but this is where it ends, Yukawa!"
Asuma glanced toward Kurenai on the sidelines, voice low and serious.
He'd hoped to end the fight in one strike.
But now that time was slipping away—even if he won, it wouldn't look good.
Dueling someone with one week of experience and dragging it out this long? Embarrassing.
Body Flicker Technique!
Chakra surged around his feet as Asuma's speed spiked.
He lunged forward, kunai gripped tight in his right hand.
The distance between them closed rapidly.
"Move, Yukawa!" Kurenai cried out, worry written all over her face.
"He's frozen with fear," Obito said with a shake of his head. "He never learned the Three Basic Techniques. It's over."
But at that moment, Yukawa's hands blurred into a flurry of seals.
When he finished—nothing happened. It looked like the jutsu had failed.
Obito opened his mouth to mock him—then paused, confusion flickering in his eyes.
Asuma had stopped moving.
"It's genjutsu," Kakashi said quietly, eyes glinting. "It's already over."
"Genjutsu?!" Obito blurted out.
The other students, unaware of what had just occurred, glanced around in confusion.
—Switch to Asuma's perspective—
He had seen Yukawa finish a set of seals and assumed it was a failed attempt at casting jutsu.
Happened all the time with beginners.
Clearly, Yukawa just lacked the skill.
"You lose!" Asuma roared, stabbing forward with his kunai—
Only to miss completely.
What the—?!
Asuma whipped around instinctively—and saw Yukawa standing calmly behind him.
How did he dodge that?!
His brows furrowed in confusion.
"You'll never escape this one!"
Asuma discarded the kunai and clapped his hands together.
Wind Style: Gale Palm!
A fierce blast of wind erupted from his palms, tearing toward Yukawa at lightning speed.
"Impossible!" Asuma's pupils contracted.
Yukawa dodged it—again.
Gale Palm was known for its speed and sharpness. Even full-fledged genin would struggle to react.
"There's no way!"
Asuma quickly formed another set of seals.
Wind Style e: Gale Palm!
Another gust—another dodge.
Asuma clenched his jaw, but his vision blurred slightly.
The repeated use of Wind Style had drained his chakra rapidly.
He stared at Yukawa, who stood quietly just a few steps away.
What's going on? he thought, dazed. It feels like… like I'm under genjutsu.
Genjutsu?
A sudden realization struck Asuma.
But—he didn't know how to dispel genjutsu.
He hadn't been taught!
His personal tutor never expected him to face a genjutsu user this early in the Academy.
Frozen in place, unsure what to do, Asuma stood awkwardly.
Yukawa stepped forward slowly.
What he'd cast was Demonic Illusion: Death Mirage Jutsu, a genjutsu that made the target see their greatest fear.
And Asuma's deepest fear… was losing to him.
The illusion dissolved.
Asuma blinked, and the first thing he saw was a kunai resting at his throat.
"You alright?" Yukawa asked calmly, withdrawing the blade.
"..."
Asuma's face turned bright red with frustration. His chest heaved, and he looked on the verge of collapsing.
"Deep breaths. Dizziness is normal," Yukawa said with a perfectly neutral expression. "You used too many jutsu in a row."
"Y-You…!"
Asuma raised a trembling finger at him.
Yukawa's tone had clearly been sincere—but for some reason, it made Asuma's blood boil.