The fist halted a hair's breadth from his face, the gust of displaced air ruffling Kakashi's unruly silver hair. Kakashi Hatake's only coherent thought in that suspended moment was: Too fast. There had been a gap of six, seven meters. He'd crossed it in the blink of an eye—a burst of speed that even surpassed his own execution of the Body Flicker Technique.
Damn it. I shouldn't have taken Ren at his word.
He'd claimed he hadn't learned any ninjutsu. Wasn't this, by any definition, ninjutsu?
This was the true essence of being a shinobi—never revealing your full hand, maintaining deception until the final moment.
Compared to Ren, he was still far too naive, not yet a qualified ninja.
"I win this match, Kakashi," Ren stated, his voice calm. The withheld strike made the declaration all the more definitive. There was no need to inflict further damage; the outcome was clear.
He had no desire to foot medical bills. Having money was no excuse for recklessness. This was a spar, after all. Victory was the point, not hospitalization.
If I hadn't been trying to show off earlier, I could have just dodged that fireball to begin with… The thought was a fleeting, rueful afterthought.
"I lost…" Kakashi exhaled slowly, the tension leaving his small frame. There was no burning resentment in the admission. He had been defeated squarely, in a direct contest where he had held nothing back. He had utilized his kenjutsu, his ninjutsu, his tactical mind. And he had still lost.
Only now, in retrospect, did he see the trap clearly. That 'opening' Ren had presented wasn't a mistake; it was bait, and he had taken it eagerly. The flaw hadn't been in Ren's defense, but in his own overeager offense. His defeat was earned, not unlucky.
[Ding! Mission complete. Rewards issuing…]
As Kakashi conceded, the welcome system chime echoed in Ren's mind.
Today has been exceedingly fruitful, he thought with immense satisfaction. Three missions in a row, three rewards: Hadō #4: Byakurai, Shunpo, and Bakudō #1: Sai. A bountiful harvest indeed.
He formed the Hand Seal of Reconciliation, his expression respectful. "Thank you for the match."
Kakashi mirrored the seal, his single visible eye meeting Ren's.
"Next time, I…" He began the customary phrase, then stopped short. The words felt strangely hollow, echoing the identical, unfulfilled pledges of Asuma and others before him. He changed tack. "…I look forward to our next spar."
Ren nodded. "As do I."
He didn't immediately broach the subject of the Hatake kenjutsu. Such matters required finesse. It was a clan art, a father's legacy; one couldn't just ask for it outright. Relationships had to be built, trust earned.
It was the same reason he hadn't sought out Minato Namikaze to inquire about the developing Rasengan, even though he knew its creation was likely underway. There were still years before the Third Great Shinobi War truly erupted. He had time to grow organically.
More pressingly, he now had three new system rewards to dissect and adapt. His schedule was, ironically, quite packed.
With Teacher Oda's official announcement, the rankings for the practical combat class were settled.
First place: Ren. Again.
It seemed no subject could dethrone him. The gap between him and the rest of the class had been made physically manifest in the ring. He wasn't just top of the class; he operated on a different tier entirely, possessing combat prowess that already met genin standards. The fact that a first-year academy student could wield such power was staggering to contemplate.
"Ren is too strong! First place again!""As expected of our genius! He's incredible!""I have to make Ren notice me…"
A chorus of cheers and excited chatter rose, predominantly from the girls in the class. Their eyes shone with admiration and a fervent, youthful infatuation. Ren embodied their ideal: handsome, powerful, and (outwardly, at least) possessing a gentle demeanor. He was, in their eyes, flawless.
Of course, for every cheer of admiration, there was a mutter of discontent. Boys of this age were fiercely competitive, and jealousy was a natural companion to awe. Yet, as they replayed the fight in their minds, their discontent was tempered by a cold, rational assessment. The gap… is really quite large.
"Tch. Showing off again," Uchiha Obito grumbled, his voice thick with a sourness that had nothing to do with the fight's technical merits. His eyes were locked on Rin Nohara, who was watching Ren with rapt attention. The jealousy burned. "Even Kakashi's no match for him… how am I supposed to win?"
Then, a spark of clan pride flickered. He touched his eyelids.
"If I could just awaken my Sharingan… then I'd have a chance!" The legendary dōjutsu of the Uchiha—that would be the great equalizer. That would make Rin look at him.
Nearby, Uchiha Ryota harbored the same thought, his earlier dejection replaced by a simmering resolve. His slightly sinister gaze fixed on Ren.
"The Sharingan… I must awaken it soon," he muttered. The inherent arrogance of the Uchiha, while often a social handicap, could also fuel a powerful drive for self-improvement.
Asuma Sarutobi, for his part, felt his competitive spirit ignite anew. He clenched his fists.
"No. When I get home, I'm asking Father for more advanced ninjutsu training. I already said it—next time, I absolutely won't… won't lose so easily!" He amended his internal vow. He was the Hokage's son, with access to Konoha's greatest resources. With enough relentless effort, victory was still possible.
Had Ren been privy to their thoughts, he would have offered a mental thumbs-up and perhaps, in a suitably dramatic internal monologue, quoted some profound words: "I'll give you time to chase. Until the day you can no longer even see my distant shadow."
Compete. Strive harder. It was for the best. The stronger they became now, the better their chances of surviving the meat-grinder of the coming war.
Clap. Clap.
Teacher Oda's sharp claps cut through the post-match chatter, drawing all eyes back to him. He offered a knowing smile.
"Alright, class, the official rankings for today are settled." He paused, letting his gaze sweep over them. "However, I suspect some of you may feel your score doesn't fully reflect your ability—perhaps due to an unfortunate early draw."
He revealed the final twist. "Therefore, we will now have a challenge period! Each of you has one opportunity to challenge someone ranked above you. If you win, you take their ranking. The loser drops one rank. Choose wisely."
This was a chance for redemption for those felled by bad luck—like Uchiha Ryota, whose decent skills had been instantly negated by drawing Ren. It was also a test of perception and judgment. Having now seen everyone fight, they were expected to assess their peers' strengths and weaknesses accurately. Insight and strategic choice were, after all, indispensable tools in a shinobi's arsenal.