Several years had passed since the massacre, yet Sasuke Uchiha still remembered every word his brother had once whispered in the dark. Those words were iron spikes driven into his soul, anchoring him to a singular purpose.
Some paths, once walked, could not be retraced. Since Itachi was gone beyond reach—vanishing into the shadows of the Bingo Books—there was only one way forward. If the past could not be corrected, then the future would be rewritten through the absolute currency of strength.
Standing across from him now was the first wall Sasuke needed to break. Evan Kamiyo stepped calmly onto the dirt of the training ground. His posture was relaxed, his breathing steady, and his eyes were as clear as a mountain lake.
At Evan's request, the two instructors overseeing the assessment had agreed to lift most restrictions. This was no longer a children's spar governed by soft rules. This was a test of direction; a collision of two vastly different philosophies of power.
Naruto Uzumaki shouted from the sidelines, leaning over the wooden fence. He was completely unaware of the heavy, suffocating weight behind the moment.
"Come on, Evan! Don't lose to that gloomy guy! Show him what you've got!" Naruto's voice was the only thing breaking the tension.
"Shut up, Naruto," Sakura Haruno snapped immediately, her irritation high, though her voice wavered. She wasn't cheering for Sasuke like she usually did; she was simply nervous. The coldness radiating from the two boys in the ring was unlike anything she had felt before.
Sasuke didn't react to the noise. His world had narrowed down to the boy in front of him. "You're confident," Sasuke said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "That confidence will disappear after the first exchange. I'll peel it away."
Evan said nothing. He merely raised his hands into a loose, open-palm guard. It wasn't a standard Academy stance, nor was it the aggressive posture of the Uchiha Interceptor Style. It was something clinical.
Hinata watched from the edge of the crowd, her fingers clenched so tightly together that her knuckles were white. She didn't doubt Evan's strength, but she understood the subtext. This wasn't a match about winning a grade. It was about showing Sasuke the flaw in his foundation.
The moment the signal was given, the air seemed to crack. Sasuke moved with an explosive burst of speed. Three shuriken cut through the air in a precise "Tri-Star" formation—fast, sharp, and lethal enough to draw blood if Evan misjudged the angle by even a fraction.
Sasuke sneered inwardly. "Dodge that."
Evan didn't dodge. He stepped forward, moving into the path of the blades. At the last instant, his wrist flicked with the economy of a clock's gear. A kunai struck the lead shuriken, altering its trajectory just enough to spark.
The second passed harmlessly by Evan's shoulder, missing him by a hair's breadth. The third was caught cleanly between his index and middle fingers. The audience froze. He didn't evade the attack; he dismantled the geometry of it.
Sasuke's pupils shrank. The precision required for that was staggering. "You're slower than me," Sasuke said sharply, already rushing in to exploit the close range. "That trick won't work twice."
He closed the distance instantly, his fists moving in a clean Uchiha form—efficient, aggressive, and perfectly disciplined. It was the Taijutsu of a clan that had spent centuries perfecting the art of the kill.
Evan blocked once, twice, then pivoted on the ball of his foot. Instead of retreating to gain breathing room, Evan stepped deep inside Sasuke's range, invading his personal space.
The difference became immediately obvious to the onlookers. Sasuke's movements were undeniably fast, fueled by adrenaline and a desperate need for validation. Evan's movements, however, were correct.
Every strike Sasuke threw met something waiting for it—not a wall of brute force, but a subtle shift in positioning. Balance was disrupted. Weight was redirected. Momentum was stolen before it could be realized.
"This isn't a fight," Evan said calmly. His voice was steady even as he parried a lightning-fast jab. "You're forcing power without understanding your own output. You are fighting yourself, Sasuke."
Sasuke gritted his teeth, his face contorting. "Don't lecture me! You know nothing!" He pressed harder, his chakra flaring instinctively in his limbs to increase his speed.
That was the mistake Evan was waiting for. Over-extension. Evan slid past a heavy punch, seized Sasuke's wrist with a surgical grip, and twisted. He didn't use enough force to break the bone, but he applied pressure exactly where the tendons met the joint.
Sasuke stumbled, his balance completely stripped away. He barely regained his footing, his heart hammering against his ribs. Gasps spread through the gathered students like a ripple in a pond.
"These two…" Shikamaru muttered, his eyes wide and unblinking. "They're not even fighting on the same level of reality. Evan is playing a different game entirely."
Sasuke stepped back, breathing harder now. His pride, the only thing he had left after the massacre, burned like acid in his veins. "So this is what you rely on?" he snapped. "Trits and redirection? Hide-and-seek?"
Evan met his eyes, his gaze cold and objective. "No. I rely on control. Something you lack because you've traded your focus for fury."
Before Sasuke could respond, Evan moved. It wasn't a flashy burst of speed. It was a calculated advance. He slipped under Sasuke's desperate guard and struck once—precisely at the center of the chest.
It was a strike to the solar plexus, but with a pulse of chakra that disrupted the local network. Sasuke's breath caught violently. His body betrayed him, his knees buckling as his chakra flow stuttered.
He fell to one knee, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Silence swallowed the training ground. The wind hissed through the grass, the only sound in the vacuum of the crowd's shock.
"…What?" Sasuke whispered, looking at his shaking hands.
Evan stood over him, his expression unchanged, as if he were looking at a medical chart. "You're strong, Sasuke. Perhaps the strongest in this class. But you're fighting your memories, not me. And memories are a poor shield."
Sasuke forced himself upright, a raw, primal fury blazing in his dark eyes. He wouldn't let it end like this. Not in front of everyone. "I'm not done! I'll show you real power!"
His hands flew together in a blur of seals. Iruka's eyes widened from the sidelines. He recognized that sequence. "Sasuke, stop! That's too much for a spar!"
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
Sasuke exhaled a massive roar of flames. The fireball was huge for someone his age, a scorching sun that raced across the ground, blackening the dirt. The heat blasted across the students' faces.
But Evan was already moving. He didn't panic. He performed a single seal, his hands steady despite the approaching inferno.
"Wind Style: Gale Palm."
Evan didn't create a shield; he created a localized vacuum. The compressed wind struck the fireball dead-on, tearing the core of the flame apart midair. The fire dissolved into harmless smoke and orange sparks that drifted away in the breeze.
Sasuke staggered back, drained by the exertion. Evan appeared in front of him instantly, a blur of motion that ended with a kunai resting lightly against Sasuke's throat.
"This match is over," Evan said.
The instructors moved in immediately, their hands raised to separate the two. "Winner—Evan Kamiyo!" Iruka shouted, his voice thick with a mixture of relief and awe.
Sasuke stood frozen. He didn't look at Evan. He didn't look at the crowd. He stared at the ground, at the spot where his fireball had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind.
He wasn't angry anymore. He was shaken to his core. The wall hadn't just held; it had shown him that he didn't even know how to swing a hammer.
Later, as the students dispersed in hushed whispers, Sasuke remained in the center of the ring. Evan paused beside him on his way out, his Shadow Clone already dissipating at the hospital across town.
"You're not weak, Sasuke," Evan said quietly, his voice lacking any edge of triumph. "But strength without clarity destroys itself. If you only seek power for revenge, you'll burn out before you ever find what you're looking for."
Sasuke didn't reply. He stood as still as a grave. After a long moment, as Evan began to walk away, the Uchiha finally spoke. His voice was small, but the tremor was gone.
"…I won't lose next time. I'll see the clarity you're talking about."
Evan nodded once, his back turned. "Good. I'll be waiting."
As Evan walked toward the Academy gates, Sasuke clenched his fists. For the first time since that night of the blood moon, a seed of doubt had been planted in his certainty—but beside it, a new kind of resolve was beginning to grow.