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Naruto: Fresh Blood

I won't stop until I bathe in the blood of those who took my family from me. ========= All characters except my own OC’s are property of their respective owners

Pequin · Tranh châm biếm
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22 Chs

Friends?

A year had passed since the fight with Sasuke. It was strange to think about how much had changed since then, and yet how little things seemed different on the surface. We still didn't talk much outside of training, but the constant sparring had built something between us, an unspoken understanding. Maybe even a kind of friendship.

Though I wasn't entirely sure.

Sasuke was relentless. Every day, he challenged me, pushed himself harder than the last time. His eyes burned with that same intensity, the same frustration, but beneath it, there was something else. Respect, maybe. I could see it in the way he approached each fight—he was always determined to win, but there was a quiet acceptance each time he didn't.

And he never won. Not once.

It wasn't that he wasn't strong—he was. Sasuke was easily the second-strongest in our class, and his talent with ninjutsu and taijutsu was undeniable. But I had an edge he couldn't seem to overcome. Whether it was my bloodline limit or the brutal training I'd put myself through, I always managed to stay ahead.

He hated it. I could see the frustration every time I knocked him to the ground or dodged his attacks with ease. But he never stopped coming back. Even after losing, he'd get back up and demand we go again. That part of him was almost admirable.

Almost.

But even now, after all this time, I still couldn't fully trust it. The idea of friendship felt… foreign to me. I didn't know if I could really consider Sasuke a friend. He didn't feel like the others in the class. There was something darker behind his eyes, something that reminded me too much of my own anger. He was driven by something beyond just strength, something I hadn't figured out yet. But it didn't matter much to me. I had my own path to follow.

Still, sparring with Sasuke had become a daily routine. A way to test myself, to push my limits. He might not have won, but every time he even came a little close, I forced myself to sharpen my skills. It wasn't just about winning anymore—it was about survival, about growing stronger.

The familiar tension crackled between us as Sasuke and I stood facing each other in the training grounds. But this time, there was an added weight to it. Sasuke had been growing more frustrated lately, pushing himself harder than ever before. He wasn't holding back.

Neither was I.

We both stood in silence for a moment, the world around us fading into the background. His eyes, sharp and focused, were locked onto mine. His stance was perfect, his body poised to strike at any moment. I mirrored him, my own body ready, calm, despite the storm of thoughts in my mind.

Without a word, Sasuke moved.

He lunged forward, his fist aimed for my ribs in a quick, precise strike. I sidestepped easily, letting his momentum carry him past me before twisting to deliver a sharp kick to his side. He grunted, barely blocking it in time, but the force of the blow sent him skidding back.

"Too slow," I muttered, my voice low, but I knew he heard it.

His eyes narrowed in frustration, and he charged again, faster this time. His fists came at me in a blur of movement, each strike more powerful than the last. I ducked, weaved, and blocked, evading each blow with minimal effort. Sasuke's movements were skilled, but I had trained too hard, honed my reflexes too well.

As he came at me again, I stepped inside his guard, twisting his arm to throw him off balance. Sasuke staggered but recovered quickly, spinning to deliver a kick aimed at my head. I ducked, feeling the rush of air as his leg passed over me, then countered with a sweep that knocked his legs out from under him.

He hit the ground hard but rolled to his feet, glaring at me. He wasn't giving up, but I could see the frustration in his eyes. He was always so close, but never close enough.

Sasuke rushed in again, his kunai flashing as he swiped at me in a flurry of strikes. The blade came dangerously close, but I dodged each attack with precision, my mind focused on every movement, every shift in his body. He was getting desperate, his strikes growing more erratic as I continued to evade him.

Then, he finally managed to land a hit.

His fist connected with my side, I gritted my teeth, not from pain, but from even allowing myself to be hit by him. I used the moment to grab his wrist, pulling him forward and driving my knee into his gut.

Sasuke gasped, the wind knocked out of him, and I took the opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him once more. He hit the ground, harder this time, and didn't get up immediately.

I stood over him, breathing steadily, my body still tensed and ready. Sasuke lay on the ground, panting, one hand clutching his stomach where I had struck him. His eyes were filled with frustration, the same frustration that had been building for months.

"You got one hit in," I said, my voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

Sasuke glared up at me, his pride clearly wounded. He had fought hard, harder than ever before, but it hadn't mattered. I had still won, just like every time before.

"Damn it," he muttered, his fist clenching the dirt beneath him. He sat up slowly, his breathing ragged, and I watched as he struggled to accept the loss.

This wasn't new. Sasuke always fought with everything he had, always pushed himself to the limit. But no matter how hard he tried, I always came out on top. Today was no different.

"I'll win next time," Sasuke growled, his voice low and filled with determination. "You won't beat me again."

I simply shrugged, unfazed by his words. He had said the same thing after every fight, and yet the result was always the same. 

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Another year had passed, and in that time, I discovered something new about myself—a talent I hadn't realized I had before. Genjutsu. The Ketsuryūgan gave me an advantage I hadn't known. With just a glance or a touch, I could manipulate the senses of those around me, bending reality to my will.

It wasn't just blood I could control.

I had spent countless hours practicing, testing my limits in secret. The way people would blink, suddenly lost in a moment that wasn't real—confused, unsure of what they had just experienced. It had become second nature to me, another tool in my arsenal. I kept it hidden, though. I wasn't ready to show anyone this new side of myself. Not yet.

Today, though, was different. Today, I would graduate.

The classroom was filled with nervous energy as Iruka-sensei called out names one by one, each student performing the three basic jutsu required to pass: the Substitution Jutsu, the Transformation Jutsu, and the Clone Jutsu. I sat quietly in the back, watching as my classmates stepped forward, some nailing the techniques, others struggling under the pressure.

Sasuke, of course, had already gone. His performance was flawless, as expected. He had been at the top of the class alongside me for as long as I could remember, and today was no exception. But as he walked back to his seat, his eyes briefly met mine. There was something in his gaze—determination, yes, but also curiosity. He was still trying to figure me out.

I looked away, focusing on the front of the room. Iruka called out the next name.

"Chihara."

I stood up, walking calmly to the front of the classroom. The eyes of my peers were on me, but I barely noticed. The techniques themselves weren't difficult, not after everything I'd been through. But I could feel the weight of the moment. This was it—the final step before becoming a Genin.

I started with the Substitution Jutsu. Without hesitation, I formed the hand seals, and in an instant, my body vanished, replaced by a nearby chair. When I reappeared at the side of the room, Iruka nodded approvingly.

Next was the Transformation Jutsu. This one was just as easy. I quickly transformed into a perfect copy of Iruka-sensei himself, down to the smallest detail. The class chuckled softly, and even Iruka gave a slight smile as I dropped the transformation.

Finally, the Clone Jutsu. I had always found this one the most annoying, but I had practiced it enough to know I wouldn't fail. I formed the necessary hand signs and three identical clones of myself appeared beside me. They were solid enough, and Iruka nodded again, satisfied.

"Well done, Chihara," he said, marking something down on his clipboard. "You pass."

I gave a small nod and turned to walk back to my seat. As I passed Sasuke, I could feel his gaze on me again, but I didn't look at him. Today wasn't about rivalry. It was about moving forward. As I sat back down, I couldn't help but glance over at the remaining students. 

Then it was Naruto's turn.

I watched as he stepped forward with a determined grin, that same fire in his eyes that I'd seen before—always trying, always pushing. But there was a nervous energy about him too. He began the exam, attempting the Clone Jutsu, but... it was a disaster. The clone he summoned was barely a shadow of what it should've been, limp and lifeless on the ground.

The room went silent, except for a few murmurs and snickers from the others. I could see the frustration on his face as Iruka sighed, shaking his head slightly.

Naruto looked crushed.

Iruka finally spoke, his voice soft but firm, "I'm sorry, Naruto. You didn't pass."

Naruto stood there for a moment, staring at the ground, before turning around and trudging back to his seat, the weight of his failure hanging heavily over him. His usual loud, obnoxious energy was nowhere to be found.

After everyone had gone, those who passed the test, Iruka-sensei called us all to the front again, one by one, to receive the symbol of our graduation—the Leaf village headband. My classmates moved forward eagerly, some grinning with pride, others relieved they had made it.

Finally, my name was called.

I stood up and walked to the front, my footsteps steady. Iruka smiled warmly as he handed me the headband. The metal plate reflected the light for a brief moment, the Leaf symbol carved into its surface. I looked at it, my fingers brushing over the cool metal.

This was it—the sign of my progress, my path toward something greater.

I tied it around my neck, feeling the weight of it settle into place. As I looked out at my classmates, some of them smiled at me, but I barely registered their reactions. Sasuke stood at the side of the room, his own headband already tied securely in place. He gave me a brief nod of acknowledgment, and I returned it silently.

The headband felt heavier than I expected, but I welcomed it. This was the first step toward my goal.

I was a Genin now.

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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