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Asuma had collapsed from chakra exhaustion.

“Samehada,” Kitazawa murmured while channeling a healing hand over him. “Return his chakra.”

Samehada obliged: it opened its maw and spat chakra back toward Asuma. The stolen energy slithered along the jonin’s skin like a warm current. Asuma’s pallor flushed away; color returned to his face.

Samehada padded back to Naruto and rubbed against his leg like a satisfied animal.

Asuma blinked himself awake and for a moment stared, caught between memory and confusion. He tasted blood and adrenaline, then remembered the last furious moments before blacking out—Samehada clamping to his thigh, the drain, and Kitazawa’s intervention.

He forced a tired grin. “Would’ve been better if I hadn’t woken,” he joked weakly.

Kitazawa finished mending Asuma’s hands. “Any other injuries?” he asked.

“Aside from my pride? No. Thank you.” Asuma rose, wincing only from exhaustion.

He hesitated, then asked, half-embarrassed, “How are your students so… strong?”

“Their talent’s exceptional,” Kitazawa said with an easy smile.

Asuma’s lips twitched. Compared to them, he felt ordinary—a thought both humbling and oddly freeing. He bowed briefly. “I’ll step down.”

Iruka approached. “All eighteen matches are done. Shall we announce results?”

“Wait,” Kitazawa said. “There’s one more. Naruto challenged Sasuke.”

Iruka’s grin spread. Of course. The rivalry had defined the class; pair them and everyone leaned closer. Naruto bounced on the balls of his feet.

“I’ll fight him now!” he declared.

“Fifteen minutes rest,” Kitazawa ordered. “You just fought Asuma; you need to recover.”

Reluctantly, Naruto agreed. He took a place in the lineup while his classmates crowded him, trading bets and prayers.

“where do you get so much chakra?” someone asked.

Kiba nudged Naruto. “If I had that much, I’d be first every day.”

Shikamaru shrugged. “Chakra isn’t everything. Talent counts.”

Tenten chimed in, “And Samehada helps.”

Sasuke’s mouth twitched when he heard that. Samehada had tipped the balance for Naruto against Asuma; Sasuke remembered how the blade affected him before. Even with his Three-Tomoe Sharingan, he must be wary of the chakra absorbing sword.

“Let me fantasize,” Kiba grumbled. Lee pumped a fist. “Youth means challenging the strong! After this I’ll run another hundred laps.”

“Who do you support?” Kiba asked his friends.

Sakura fell silent, embarrassed. Ino and others teased her; Lee gave a wholehearted cheer for Naruto. Shikamaru and Neji weighed Sasuke’s Sharingan advantage, while Tenten pointed out Samehada’s close-combat danger. On balance, the class split into hushed predictions.

Kitazawa returned to his seat and explained the final match to the assembled clan heads—everyone leaned in. Then Iruka called it.

“Nineteenth spar: Uchiha Sasuke versus Uzumaki Naruto!”

They entered the arena under a wash of expectant faces—Hiashi, Fugaku, and the rest watching like a court.

“Begin!”

Sasuke formed hand seals and spat out a towering Fire Release: Great Fireball while drawing the Sword of the Thunder God. He advanced, fire and steel combined.

Naruto didn’t clone yet; instead he clapped once. Wind Release: Gale Palm burst from him like a cannon, striking the fireball and ripping it apart. Flames scattered toward Sasuke.

Sasuke read the air and dodged. The Sword of the Thunder God hummed, and lightning arced from its blade toward Naruto.

Naruto set Samehada before him. The sword opened its maw and swallowed the lightning whole.

Sasuke flicked his wrist. Leaf Style: Willow—sword-shadow after sword-shadow flooded the field, and for a breath Naruto hesitated, a genjutsu momentarily lacing his movements. Nine-tails, sensing the assault, nudged Naruto’s consciousness free; the fox would not suffer Uchiha genjutsu passively.

Sasuke’s Sharingan had blinked and caught Naruto’s moment of stun. He lunged; Samehada snapped reflexively at the Sword of the Thunder God but missed, tearing air. Naruto’s boot connected with Sasuke’s hand in a Violent: Leaf Hurricane Strong Whirlwind, and the thunder-sword flew skyward. Naruto seized Samehada and drove it toward Sasuke—the momentum flipped the advantage.

Sasuke didn’t panic. Two kunai were thrown; they struck Samehada and diverted it just long enough for him to snatch up the Sword of the Thunder God. He channeled lightning into it and hurled the blade back. Bolts rained from above.

Naruto clapped. Wind Release: Gale Palm rose from below, meeting the lightning torrent. He grabbed Samehada and sprinted backward through the storm. Lightning forked and danced, but many bolts arced dangerously; Naruto’s timely retreat kept him from being struck. Sasuke landed and studied his opponent—Naruto moved more deliberately than before, his combat sense sharpened by missions and tutelage.

Then Naruto released multiple shadow clones in a hundredfold wave. Each clone executed coordinated entries: Dynamic Entry, Leaf Whirlwind, Konoha Double Whirlwind, a chaotic cascade of kicks.

Sasuke cut down clone after clone using his Sharingan, each strike removing a decoy, but exactly enough clones still pressed forward that a few broke through. When two particular clones launched synchronized kicks, Sasuke erupted with Chidori Nagashi—lightning coiled around him, paralyzing the clones that misstepped. Step by step, he dismantled Naruto’s formations with clinical efficiency.

“Those Shadow Clones are no threat when I can see their moves,” Sasuke said, voice flat amid crackling lightning.

Naruto grinned, unbowed. “You’re my lifelong rival!” he said, breathless and bright. “This youth is mine, too!”

Sasuke felt the mood shift—the trademark bravado of their rivalry making the arena hum. He did not smile.

“Wind Release: Shuriken!”

A storm of chakra-imbued shuriken rained down like arrows from the sky.

“Has it come to this?” Sasuke thought, remembering their clash at Hozuki castle. Back then he’d used his Three-Tomoe Sharingan to dodge Naruto’s Wind Release: Shuriken, then countered with Chidori Nagashi and won. Possessed by Satori then, his reserves had been different—but he believed he could repeat it.

Sasuke gripped the Sword of the Thunder God. Lightning coiled around him as Chidori Nagashi wrapped his body; he surged forward like a living bolt.

Clang—one shuriken sheared away.

But more followed.

“I can see them!” Sasuke hissed, wrist twisting. The blade became a streak of lightning, slicing shuriken apart at impossible speed.

Watching, Shikaku felt déjà vu, it echoed Naruto’s fight with Asuma. “Once he activates the Three-Tomoe, he fights like a jonin,” Shibi murmured.

“Still, Sasuke’s not Asuma—he can’t last forever,” Choza warned. He and others noted Sasuke’s youth and limited chakra. Fugaku, silent and tense, focused only on his son; Naruto, after all, was no easy opponent.

The clanging stopped. Mid-fight Sasuke realized he couldn’t replicate Hozuki castle win—without Satori he didn’t have that reservoir of chakra. He sheathed the Sword of the Thunder God and converted his lightning into a volley.

Lightning Release: Chidori Senbon!

He threw out a dense storm of lightning-senbon that met Naruto’s shuriken in a prickly stalemate. A rare gap opened before Sasuke.

He dashed.

Naruto, scattering Wind Release: Shuriken with his clones, snatched Samehada as Sasuke vanished into the air—and froze under Sharingan genjutsu.

Chidori lightning erupted from Sasuke’s blade. Samehada lunged to block, but the Sword of the Thunder God’s force shoved it back; the Thunder God sword slammed into Naruto and tore through his sleeve, drawing blood.

Naruto winced but kicked anyway—a sharp blow to Sasuke’s gut sent him reeling.

“Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu!” Naruto answered, creating opportunity from chaos.

Sasuke’s chest tightened. He couldn’t outlast Naruto’s clones; this could not turn into a war of attrition. He plunged the Sword of the Thunder God into the ground. Lightning flared outward, freezing many clones in place.

Lightning Release: Double Chidori!

Once the nearby clones were paralyzed, he formed seals and called forth a final strike. His hands glittered with thunder—he surged forward, this his last, decisive attack.

But then—a chorus of voices rose: “The passionate youth! This is our Rasengan!”

A swarm of Rasengan bloomed around Naruto. Dozens of spinning chakra spheres hovered and advanced.

Sasuke halted, stunned. Twenty, thirty Rasengan? How to pierce that?

“Rasengan used like this?” Shibi breathed, incredulous. He’d known Rasengan since Minato’s days, but—never like this.

Fugaku, usually composed, showed rare surprise. The spectacle was overwhelming: so many Rasengan encircling Sasuke.

“He has more chakra than we do,” Choza said, dumbfounded. Jonin capacity aside, Naruto’s innate reserves dwarfed theirs. Shikaku admitted the generational gap: these kids learned at levels they hadn’t at that age.

Kitazawa grinned inwardly—in the original tale, Naruto once used two thousand Rasengan; this was a child’s prologue to that madness.

Iruka’s voice sliced through the charged air: “Winner—Uzumaki Naruto!”

Sasuke let his Double Chidori die away. He’d gambled and lost; charging headlong into thirty Rasengan while holding two Chidori was impossible.

Kitazawa stepped forward and guided them off the field. He asked Naruto to extend his arms; Sasuke’s sword had scraped him, leaving dried scabs that would have healed fast anyway. Kitazawa muttered about Naruto’s ridiculous durability and then, with his Mystical Palm Technique, smoothed Naruto’s arms in under thirty seconds.

“Sasuke, anything else?” Kitazawa asked, noticing Sasuke linger.

Sasuke drew a measured breath. “I want to challenge Yakumo.”

Naruto and Yakumo were two targets he had set after awakening his Three-Tomoe. Though beaten here by Naruto’s absurd chakra, Sasuke wanted another victory to restore face—one win and one loss would preserve Uchiha prestige.

“Rest first,” Kitazawa advised, but Sasuke shook his head. “I’m not tired.”

In Sasuke’s mind, a match against Yakumo would inevitably be a pure Genjutsu duel. In that case, physical fatigue didn’t matter at all.

“Yakumo.”

Kitazawa sighed internally but respected Sasuke’s resolve. He turned and beckoned Yakumo forward.

She approached quietly.

“Sasuke wants to challenge you. Your thoughts?” Kitazawa asked.

“I accept,” Yakumo replied without hesitation.

“Very well.”

Kitazawa stepped aside and raised his voice. “Twentieth spar: Uchiha Sasuke versus Kurama Yakumo!”

“…?!”

Fugaku stiffened.

What was that boy thinking? Why challenge her without consulting me?

He had no idea Yakumo’s Genjutsu had already stepped into Mangekyō-level territory. And from the spectator seats, he could do nothing to warn Sasuke.

Itachi, however, wore a pensive look. He already knew the outcome. The gulf between the Three-Tomoe Sharingan and the Mangekyō was insurmountable. But perhaps this was necessary—Sasuke had awakened the Three Tomoe and was beginning to grow arrogant. A blow now would keep his feet on the ground.

The battle began.

And the battle ended.

Sasuke fell instantly into Yakumo’s Horror Illusion, trapped without resistance. Kitazawa could only shake his head. He had warned Sasuke, but the boy’s personality required learning through experience.

Time passed.

Sasuke suddenly jolted awake. He collapsed to the ground, gasping, staring at Yakumo in disbelief.

Impossible. Why hadn’t the Three-Tomoe Sharingan been enough?

“Winner: Kurama Yakumo.”

Kitazawa paused, then announced, “The Genius Class final exam ends here. Rankings will be announced in ten minutes.”

He walked over and helped Sasuke to his feet.

“If you want the reason,” Kitazawa said, “wait until the rankings are announced—then go ask your brother.”

Sasuke froze. My brother knows?

He instinctively looked toward Itachi, but with the crowd still present, he couldn’t approach him.

He left the field silently.

Kitazawa turned away, going to consult with Hiruzen and the others about the rankings.

The Genius Class students gathered around Sasuke.

“I’m fine,” Sasuke muttered, shaking his head. He had long grown used to losing to Yakumo and Naruto. Awakening the Three Tomoe had made him believe things would change… but reality still hit the same.

He didn’t know how to defeat Yakumo yet—but he did feel he was one step away from surpassing Naruto. He’d only lost because of that absurd barrage of Rasengan. Next time, he would be prepared.

Hearing this, the class finally relaxed.

“You guys improve way too fast,” Kiba groaned. “We can’t keep up at all.”

Shikamaru patted his shoulder. “Don’t compare yourself to monsters.”

“Exactly!” Ino said, hands on hips. “So what if they’re geniuses? Next exam is anyone’s game!”

“Right,” Tenten agreed. “These kinds of giant spar events won’t happen every month. Missions will matter more next time.”

“Let’s burn our youth for first place!” Naruto grinned, thumb raised.

“Sasuke-kun will be first anyway!” Sakura declared without hesitation.

Sasuke glanced at her. Had she said the same thing before this loss too?

Ten minutes later, Kitazawa returned with a report card.

Both the Genius Class and the entire audience fell silent.

“I will now announce the rankings for the practical exam,” Kitazawa said. “These placements prioritize performance, then spar outcomes.”

The top students tensed.

“First place: Kurama Yakumo.”

No one objected. Two matches, two instant victories.

“Second place: Uzumaki Naruto.

Third place: Uchiha Sasuke.”

Again—no dispute. Sasuke accepted his placement quietly; he had lost to both above him.

“Fourth place…” Kitazawa let suspense build. Hyuga Neji, Shino, Hinata, and Kimimaro all had strong cases.

“Shino Aburame.”

Shino blinked in surprise. Others murmured—Shino was usually below Neji and Hinata.

“Based on performance alone, he deserves it,” Neji admitted. His own victory depended heavily on the Zero-tails Bow—and Hinata on the Moon-Chasing Bow.

“Fifth place: Hyuga Neji.

Sixth: Hyuga Hinata.

Seventh: Kimimaro.”

Kimimaro clenched his fists. Dropping from the top group to seventh… a dangerous sign.

“Eighth: Tenten. Ninth: Ino Yamanaka. Tenth: Nara Shikamaru. Eleventh: Sakura Haruno.”

Tenten’s eyes lit up. Ino beamed. Sakura bristled. Shikamaru shrugged—top ten among these lunatics was perfectly fine.

“Twelfth: Inuzuka Hana. Thirteenth: Inuzuka Kiba. Fourteenth: Jugo.”

Kiba slumped in despair.

Tayuya froze.

No…

No way…

Not even top fourteen?

“Fifteenth: Tayuya. Sixteenth: Rock Lee. Seventeenth: Akimichi Choji. Eighteenth: Haku.”

Tayuya clenched her teeth. She hated it—but the placements were fair.

Kitazawa then read the theoretical exam results and final rankings, though after today’s insane battles, academics felt secondary.

“The Genius Class final exam concludes perfectly. Parents may now take their children home. We meet again next semester.”

Students dispersed—Sasuke rushing to find Fugaku and Itachi, others joining their clans.

Tsunade approached, and Hiruzen chuckled, “As Hokage, are you satisfied?”

“If I weren’t, I’d be nitpicking for no reason,” she muttered. “Old man, you’re getting used to being a teacher.”

“It’s enjoyable work,” Hiruzen said warmly. “I only regret not retiring sooner.”

Tsunade twitched. Was that aimed at me?

Kosuke and Chen shared their own reflections, rediscovering purpose through teaching such prodigies. Kurenai simply sighed—these children made even jonin feel old.

At that moment—

Mission Complete: Achieve ten victories against official ninja.

Reward: Compound Ninjutsu—Gentle Fist Twin Lion Rasengan

Kitazawa suppressed a smile.

“Will these Genius-vs-Ninja spars happen monthly?” Hiruzen asked.

“No,” Kitazawa said. “Once or twice a year. Any more would disrupt mission schedules—on both sides.”

The group agreed.

Soon after, Tsunade turned to return to the Hokage Office. Kitazawa suspected she was trying to slip away from their bet—but he wasn’t worried.

He went home with Kurenai for lunch, then made his way to the Hokage Building.

“Tsunade-sensei,” Kitazawa said as he entered. “Do you remember our bet from this morning?”

Tsunade stiffened. “What do you want?”

His gaze—direct, heated—made her heart flutter in spite of herself.

He didn’t answer with words.

He stepped close, bent down, eyes fixed on her lips.

Tsunade unconsciously licked the corner of her mouth.

Kitazawa kissed her—firmly, deliberately.

She had expected it, yet the moment their lips met, a soft hum escaped her throat.

Then her eyes snapped open—this kiss wasn’t brief like before. It deepened, slow and consuming.

The Hokage’s office fell utterly silent.

Only the sound of their mingled breath and the quiet clash of lips remained.

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