"Lord Third, you really handed me a nightmare."
Iruka massaged his temples, glancing up at the splash of red hair sitting high in a tree, surrounded by green leaves. Naruto was a problem, certainly, but he was also a catalyst. Because of him, this class was stronger than any previous generation.
The reason was simple: fear. Pure, unadulterated fear.
Nobody wanted to be humiliated by Naruto. Nobody wanted to get beaten into the dirt in front of their crush. So, they trained. They pushed themselves to the breaking point. Iruka felt a flicker of pride; every ounce of strength they gained now meant a higher chance of survival later. The ninja world didn't forgive weakness.
"Line up!" Iruka stepped out of the shade and into the rising heat.
The students scrambled immediately. They formed lines—boys on one side, girls on the other—standing exactly two meters from Iruka. Their faces were tight with anxiety.
Iruka scanned the group to ensure everyone was present. Then, his eyes landed on the back of the line.
Naruto.
The boy hadn't bothered to stand in order; he had simply drifted to the back. The other students didn't even blink at the breach of protocol. Instead, they naturally filled the gap he left, terrified to stand anywhere near him.
Whatever, Iruka thought, deciding to let it slide. He needed Naruto to scare the lazy ones straight, anyway.
"Today is combat practice," Iruka announced. "Pairs will be random unless someone volunteers to pick a rival."
The moment the words left his mouth, a collective scream echoed through the students' minds: Please don't match me with the Monster. Don't let him see me.
"One rule," Iruka added, sensing the rising panic. "You cannot pick someone significantly weaker than you."
A wave of relief swept through the ranks. Kenta and Tanaka practically collapsed, their tension melting away. They were weak, which meant they were safe.
"Volunteers stay. Everyone else, clear the field."
The students scattered like cockroaches exposed to light, retreating to the safety of the tree line. Only one person remained in the center of the training ground.
Naruto.
Iruka sighed. Of course.
"Who to pick..."
Naruto crossed his arms, his gaze cold and devoid of emotion as he scanned the cowering students. Sparring with these kids was a waste of time; he had outgrown them three years ago. It offered zero benefit. The optimal strategy was simple: end it quickly and get back to real training.
"Does anyone want to challenge Naruto?" Iruka shouted, trying to inject some enthusiasm into the terrified group.
"Don't pick me. Don't pick me," the boys in the front row muttered, staring at their feet and praying.
Choji stopped eating, fearing the crunch of a potato chip might draw attention. Beside him, Shikamaru leaned against a tree, eyes closed, feigning sleep to avoid eye contact. Akamaru whined and buried himself inside Kiba's jacket, prompting Kiba to quickly zip it up. Even Shino's bugs stopped buzzing, retreating deep into his sleeves.
"Tch. The boys are pathetic," Ino whispered. She felt a pang of sympathy, though. At least Naruto usually ignored the girls—unless they annoyed him.
Ino glanced at Sakura, the only girl who still occasionally got a beatdown from Naruto.
"What are you looking at, Ino-pig?" Sakura hissed, sensing the gaze. She raised a fist, but a shiver ran down her spine.
"Nothing." Ino looked away quickly.
Should I fight him?
Hinata stood in the back, twisting her fingers together. She looked at the terrified boys, a resolve hardening in her chest. If I fight him, he'll see me. He'll see I've changed. I can show him I'm strong now. I'm not that weak little girl anymore.
She thought about her recent training—the "Heavenly Spin." She had sent Neji flying just a few days ago. She wanted to prove herself to Naruto.
Hinata took a deep breath and stepped forward. "Me."
"I'll do it."
A cool, crisp voice cut through the air before she could finish speaking. It came from the boys' line, sounding like salvation.
Sasuke Uchiha stepped out, hands in his pockets. He wore a dark blue shirt and gray shorts, and the crowd parted for him instantly.
"Sasuke!"
"He's so cool!"
"Sasuke, don't do it!"
The girls went wild—some swooning, others screaming in terror—and the order of the line dissolved into chaos.
"Sasuke is a hero," Shikamaru muttered, opening one eye to watch the boy with the red-and-white fan on his back walk toward his doom.
"Here." Choji pulled a single chip from his bag. He looked at it solemnly, then at Sasuke. His face hardened with resolve. "I'll save this one for him. He's going to need the calories."
"Bark!" Akamaru popped his head out in agreement.
Hinata lowered her head, filled with regret. I hesitated. She had missed her chance.
"Sasuke." Naruto smirked. "Got your confidence back, huh?"
The mockery hit Sasuke like a slap. A vein popped on his forehead, and he clenched his fists inside his pockets, glaring daggers at Naruto.
"I'm going to beat you this time," Sasuke said, his voice low and serious. He thought of the last month of hellish training—the sweat, the pain, the exhaustion.
"Nice spirit," Naruto said. He waved his hand lazily, like he was calling a puppy. "Come here, boy."
"You bastard!"
Sasuke snapped. His hand flew to his hip pouch, and he sprinted forward.
"Wait!"
Iruka flashed between them, holding up both hands to stop the charge.
"Move, Sensei! I'm going to kill him!" Sasuke roared, gripping a kunai.
"Sasuke, stand down!" Iruka barked. "You know the rules. Seal of Confrontation before the fight. Seal of Reconciliation after. Did you forget everything?"
Sasuke gritted his teeth, his chest heaving. Slowly, he lowered the weapon.
Iruka made them stand facing each other. "Both of you. Seal of Confrontation."
Naruto and Sasuke raised their right hands, forming the seal.
"Ninja Sparring Practice," Iruka shouted, stepping back. "Begin!"