"In a sense, my instantaneous movement has no true form... and yet, every one of them is real."
Uchiha Tatsumi's voice echoed throughout the training field, ethereal and directionless, as if the sound itself came from every corner of the arena.
"W-What was that?"
"Amazing…!"
"So this is the real strength of Uchiha Tatsumi?" murmurs stirred in the crowd.
"Rope Tree, do you understand Tatsumi's technique?" Minato asked, his tone calm but intrigued.
"Hah? Me? Of course I do!" Rope Tree puffed up immediately. "I figured it out in one look! What, you want me to explain it to you?"
Minato smiled politely. "Ahaha, no need. I think I get it now too."
"..."
"This is it, Hyuga Himeji — the final blow," Tatsumi's voice suddenly cut through the air.
Hyuga Himeji's face was taut with focus. Shadow clones? No… a mirage technique? But none of the figures give off chakra. Are they physical or not?
Uchiha Tatsumi spun through the air, gathering momentum, and lashed out with a vicious spinning kick.
Himeji couldn't defend in time. The blow connected squarely, sending her flying back.
Four Tatsumis followed in close pursuit.
"Gentle Fist: Rotation…!" she attempted to form the stance, but her chakra sputtered. There wasn't enough left.
"Uchiha Style: Lion Combo!"
Boom!
Tatsumi smashed her down like a comet. The impact cracked the training platform.
Silence.
The crowd stared, stunned.
Tatsumi approached her slowly, breathing steady.
"Himeji… I don't know what you're trying to prove," he said quietly. "But as shinobi, our goal isn't to defeat others for recognition. First, we must recognize our own worth."
"If you obsess over how people see you… you'll only keep getting hurt. We're shinobi because we're forced to make cruel decisions. That's the world we live in."
"Some say a thousand people can give the same answer. Others say one person can give a thousand answers. If you want to change things—then grow stronger, Himeji. Don't stay stuck."
He reached down and gently pulled her to her feet.
Then, with a quiet reverence, he performed the seal of reconciliation.
Dusting off his Uchiha windbreaker, he turned and walked away with slow, confident steps.
"Wow! Tatsumi, that was so cool!" Mikoto ran over, eyes sparkling.
Tatsumi gave her a small, smug smile. His heart brimmed with satisfaction. My talk-no-jutsu might not be Naruto-level yet, but I just dunked on everyone here.
"Uchiha Tatsumi…" Orochimaru's low, rasping voice echoed ominously from the observation deck. "A strong will… the orphan of Uchiha Kagami. Nindō, is it? How fascinating…"
At the edge of the arena, Hyuga Hiashi arrived. He quickly checked Himeji's condition. A breath of relief escaped him—she was merely chakra-depleted, not injured.
Tatsumi held back at the last second, he realized.
"You hit a girl way too hard, don't you think?!" Rope Tree popped up again, arms crossed righteously.
"Using full strength is the greatest respect you can give your opponent… right, Rope Tree?" Tatsumi replied coolly.
"Otherwise, if I go easy on you next time, and you lose, I'll just say I wasn't serious. Sound fair?"
"Uhh—nope, nope! You better go all out on me too!" Rope Tree waved his hands defensively.
Like hell I'm letting Konoha lose face tomorrow…
"Chen, your taijutsu was insane. Why've you been hiding it this whole time?" Minato asked, brushing his blond bangs aside.
"That kind of speed and strength isn't normal for academy students…"
Tatsumi clapped a hand on Minato's shoulder. "Being too talented is exhausting, Minato. Power isolates people. It creates distance—even if you start with good intentions. You get it, right?"
"…" I don't get it at all…
Still nailed the vibe, Tatsumi thought smugly. One step closer to outcooling Sasuke.
"Yes! I understand completely!" Rope Tree nodded solemnly. "Being too amazing is its own kind of burden…"
Why are you always here?! Tatsumi inwardly groaned. Rope Tree's delusion skill is maxed out…
"The second match, take the stage!" Orochimaru's voice boomed across the arena.
"Minato, good luck!"
"Thanks. I'll do my best," Minato grinned.
As Minato and his opponent—Shimura no Miya from the Shimura clan—stepped into the ring, Orochimaru declared, "Begin."
Tatsumi leaned back, eyes thoughtful. I've trained Minato a bit myself. He's got the standard Academy techniques, plus a few wind-style jutsu I taught him. Nothing too crazy—just C-rank.
Shimura no Miya, meanwhile, was a member of the Shimura clan—Danzo's kin. Known for their wind-release mastery, most of his moves would be wind-style ninjutsu too.
This will come down to strategy and execution.
"Shimura no Miya, I look forward to the match."
"Likewise, Namikaze Minato."
Minato opened with a flurry of shuriken, thrown at sharp, awkward angles. He rushed in right after.
Classic misdirection setup…
Thwack!
The shuriken struck Shimura—only for him to vanish in a puff of smoke.
"Substitution!" Minato's eyes narrowed.
As expected, Shimura no Miya's real body closed in from behind.
The enemy kunai flashed toward Minato's throat—only for him to bend back, narrowly evading it.
With a flick, Minato returned fire, forcing Shimura to retreat.
Their eyes locked.
Tension's rising. Both are serious now.
Shimura no Miya hadn't expected a civilian-born ninja to fight on equal footing.
A moment later, they clashed again—kunai colliding, sparks flying.
The audience was on the edge of their seats as the two figures blurred across the stage.
"Let's go, Minato!"
"Come on, Shimura no Miya!"