The class had once again gathered in a vacant training field for taijutsu lessons, and Masaru was feeling many things — none of them good. His eyelids were heavy, his limbs sluggish, and his brain still fogged from the five miserable hours of sleep he'd managed before Kotetsu dragged him from dream land. And on top of the exhaustion, he was absolutely dreading getting into another fight.
He centered himself with a deep breath, dropping into his stretches to distract his mind as Kotetsu Sensei began calling out the first match.
"Rikou and Inuzuka Rena."
Masaru winced. Poor Rikou. Rena wasn't just strong — she was built. Taller than half the boys in class, muscles packed onto her frame like she'd been carved out of stubborn oak. Masaru didn't feel even a little embarrassed calling her a beefcake.
"Thank the gods I don't have to deal with that right now…" he muttered — apparently not quietly enough.
"Hah! Right? Every time I go against her I end up spending the night in the nurse's office," Kaito laughed from beside him.
Masaru blinked at him, taking in the boy's features for the first time. Slightly taller than the other boys their age — which meant he practically towered over Masaru — with dark eyes and shaggy black hair tied into a bushy ponytail. And in his hand, as always, was a chocolate covered pretzel that he promptly popped into the corner of his mouth.
Masaru stared for a moment before shaking his head. 'He's just a kid. I need to stop assuming everyone's out to get me.'
He forced a smile. "I don't know if I can imagine a worse lineup. Him or me."
"Oh, definitely him," Kaito said through a mouthful of pretzel. "You may not have noticed, but you're not the weakest in the class anymore. You still gotta catch up on jutsu, but from what I saw last week, you're half-decent at taijutsu."
Masaru flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh—thank you, I guess. I didn't know anyone was paying that close attention."
Kaito shrugged, eyes drifting back to the fight. "…You're scary."
Masaru frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You've been here what — two and a half months? And you're already nearly caught up to us in taijutsu. Not counting the clan kids, but it's never fair to include them." He sighed, rubbing his head. "Honestly? If you'd started when we did, you probably would've graduated in your first year. Maybe second."
Masaru stared at him. 'Graduate in two years my ass. What kind of monster does he think I am?'
He laughed it off, finishing his stretches and beginning to mold chakra through his muscles. "Well, thank you, but I don't think so. And even if I could, I don't want to get a big head about it."
"That's a good mindset," Kaito said, popping another pretzel stick. "I'm not too messed up about it anyway. Taijutsu isn't my thing. I'm much better at range."
Masaru hummed — then felt Kotetsu's gaze land on him like a weight. He exhaled sharply and stood.
"Seems I'm next. Wish me luck."
If Kaito responded, Masaru didn't hear it. A mask of focus slid over his face as he walked toward the center of the field, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet to stay warm.
"Akimichi Toru and Masaru. In the middle."
Masaru sighed. Of course. Of course he was being pitted against his bully.
'Sensei definitely has an agenda.'
Kotetsu's eyes met his — flat, unreadable. Then the man spoke, but his voice reached only Masaru's ears.
"I don't expect you to win. But you will stop feeling sorry for yourself."
Masaru stopped bouncing. "…And if I do win?"
Kotetsu barked a laugh. "I'll personally hand you a C‑ranked jutsu."
Masaru's eyes went wide. A C‑rank? Before he'd even mastered the Academy basics?
Then the truth hit him like a slap.
Kotetsu wasn't offering a reward. He was mocking him.
He didn't believe Masaru had even a chance.
Masaru covered his face with a hand, a wry smile twisting his lips. 'Damn. Am I really that pathetic?'
The thought stung — then something inside him snapped.
A cold, razor‑sharp focus slid into place. Followed by a surge of heat.
'No way in hell am I losing out on a C‑rank jutsu.'
His exhaustion evaporated. His mind raced. The rules were simple: no weapons, no jutsu, no maiming. But nothing said he couldn't use chakra.
And he'd been training chakra control relentlessly. Leaf concentration. Tree climbing. Holding seven leaves at once while moving through katas.
He wasn't good at enhancing his strength yet — but he didn't need to be perfect. He just needed to be better than Toru.
"Oh, and one more rule," Kotetsu added loudly. "Stay in the circle or you're out."
He shot Toru a knowing look. Masaru's stomach twisted.
'He's been bribed. Of course he has. Akimichi stick together.'
Masaru exhaled — and something inside him ignited.
A hot rage bloomed in his gut, mixing with the cold focus until his chakra began bubbling out of him in response. His body temperature spiked.
He bounced on his toes again, venting heat with every breath.
Across from him, Toru grinned — wide, cocky, confident. He thought this would be easy.
Masaru's lips curled into a savage grin of his own as he sank into his stance — left foot forward, right hand half‑cocked.
"I think I might enjoy this for once."