Hanekawa left the Konoha Knowledge Bookstore without lingering. Tsuchihashi would handle the rest—though he had no idea which author the man would recruit as a ghostwriter. Jiraiya crossed his mind briefly, but that was a non-starter. Nobody wanted to hear they were writing under someone else's name.

  The fourth training ground was quiet when he arrived. He picked up a wooden sword and ran through Leaf Style kata for an hour, letting muscle memory guide him through the motions. By the time he finished, sweat had soaked through his shirt.

  The Ninja Academy loomed ahead.

  Asuma Sarutobi was waiting near the entrance, leaning against a tree with his hands shoved in his pockets, staring up at the sky at a perfect forty-five-degree angle. Oh, come on, Hanekawa thought. Are we in a martial arts drama now?

  "You came," Asuma said, turning to face him.

  Hanekawa's mouth twitched. What am I supposed to say to that? 'You shouldn't have'?

  "I'm here to remind you about the practical class this afternoon," Hanekawa replied instead.

  Asuma's eyes gleamed with anticipation. He was practically vibrating with the need to prove himself—to beat Hanekawa, to win back Kurenai's attention. Good luck with that, kid.

  "I know," Hanekawa said.

  "Good." Asuma turned away with exaggerated casualness. "I hope you can satisfy me when the time comes."

  He left in a way that was clearly meant to look cool. Hanekawa didn't bother watching him go.

  ---

  The classroom was standard academy fare. Eiichiro stood at the podium, gesturing enthusiastically about "The Will of Fire" while students raised their hands like they were competing in an auction.

  "Obito, you answer," Eiichiro said.

  Obito practically launched himself to his feet. "Where the leaves dance, the fire lives on! The flames will continue to illuminate the village and allow new leaves to sprout!"

  Correct answer, delivered with maximum enthusiasm, Hanekawa noted, already turning his attention back to his math problems. The pencil squeaked against paper as he worked through equations. By lunch, his exercise book was filled with answers.

  The practical class started after lunch.

  First-year students didn't have much to work with—no jutsu yet, just physical combat and kunai throwing. The Three Body Technique wouldn't be introduced until second semester, and even then, it took most students six years to master something so "basic."

  "Kakashi, I want to challenge you!" Obito burst out the moment Eiichiro called the class to order.

  Kakashi's mood determined whether sparring matches happened. Most of the time, he declined, leaving Obito frustrated and furious. But in a formal practical class, refusing was harder.

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  Asuma had been about to issue his own challenge. His mouth snapped shut, and he looked away, clearly annoyed.

  Hanekawa noticed him glance over at where he and Kurenai were standing together, laughing about something. Asuma's jaw tightened.

  "Kakashi," Eiichiro said with a smile, "demonstrate for the class."

  Kakashi walked to the center of the training ground with the casual confidence of someone who'd never lost a sparring match in his life.

  "Obito, be safe," Rin said helplessly.

  "Don't worry!" Obito pounded his chest. "I'll go easy on him!"

  Rin looked like she wanted to bang her head against something.

  Obito formed the Opposition Seal and charged. Kakashi didn't move—just threw a punch. Obito slid under it, trying to go for the legs. Kakashi was faster. He jumped, spun, and kicked Obito directly in the back.

  Obito flew backward like a spinning top and crashed to the ground.

  "Winner: Kakashi Hatake," Eiichiro announced without surprise.

  The class erupted in cheers. Kakashi was popular—strong, cool, and undeniably talented. Hanekawa was catching up, but he was still in second place. Nobody remembered second place.

  "I'm fine!" Obito scrambled to his feet. "I just wasn't in good condition today. Let's fight another time!"

  Rin didn't bother responding.

  "Anyone else?" Eiichiro asked. "If not, we'll begin the lesson."

  "I challenge Hanekawa," Asuma said, raising his hand.

  The entire class's attention shifted. This was a rematch—Asuma had lost to Hanekawa before. This was personal.

  Oh, here we go, Hanekawa thought.

  Asuma walked to the center of the training ground, snorting. "The same illusion won't work on me. I've trained."

  Hanekawa formed the Opposition Seal without comment.

  Asuma immediately looked away, staring at the ground. Most genjutsu relied on vision. The easiest counter was to avoid eye contact. Peripheral vision and hearing weren't perfect substitutes, but they worked. And Asuma had clearly spent the last half month preparing.

  The wind whistled. Kunai.

  Asuma sidestepped perfectly, his face smug. Two kunai stuck into the ground on either side of him. Good, his expression said. All that training paid off.

  He formed hand seals, staring at Hanekawa's feet, and clapped his hands together.

  "Wind Style: Gale Palm!"

  A whirlwind erupted from his palms—

  And the kunai on the ground suddenly flew up like they had minds of their own.

  Asuma's eyes widened. What the—

  He saw them then: thin threads, nearly invisible, crisscrossing through the air. Hanekawa's threads. Controlled. Precise.

  Asuma staggered as the threads tangled around him, pulling him off-balance. He stumbled, nearly fell—

  No. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

  He caught himself, endured the pain, and pushed back to his feet. A kunai was already flying at his face.

  "I—" he started.

  "Winner: Hanekawa," Eiichiro announced.

  Asuma's face flushed red. Why isn't he using illusions? That's cheating! That's not how genjutsu users fight! But he couldn't say that. He couldn't make excuses like Obito. Not in front of the whole class.

  He stood there, breathing hard, feeling the weight of his half month of training crumble to dust.

  A notification appeared in Hanekawa's vision:

  [E-Rank Talent Entry: 'Shipwind Legend' upgraded.]

  [Wind Style talent increased by 30% from current baseline.]

  Oh, that's nice, Hanekawa thought, suppressing a smile. Asuma just gave me a power-up. How considerate.