Chapter 7

"I think I got it," Kiba said, exhaling sharply.

He closed his eyes and focused, molding his chakra without hand signs. The stone-like skin began spreading from his stomach, but the progress was so slow that it crumbled away before covering much of his body.

"Man," Kiba muttered, scratching his head in frustration.

'Let me try with hand signs,' he thought.

First, he formed the rat sign, then the snake, and finally the tiger. The moment he completed the sequence, the stone-like skin surged across his body, encasing him completely just like Kakuzu's Earth Spear technique. His skin now matched the brown hue of the earth.

"This is some bullshit," Kiba grumbled. 'Fuck the hand signs. I'm doing this manually.'

He knew relying on hand signs would make it easier, but that was exactly what he wanted to avoid. With renewed motivation, he began practicing again.

. . . .

The Next Day

The training grounds buzzed with activity as Kiba's classmates practiced throwing shuriken and kunai at wooden targets. The sharp clinks of metal striking wood echoed across the field, punctuated by occasional cheers or groans of frustration.

Kiba's throws were inconsistent, sometimes hitting the outer edges of the target, sometimes missing entirely, and only rarely landing near the center by sheer luck.

After a few more half-hearted attempts, he gave up, tossing the remaining shuriken back into his pouch with a scowl.

Instead, he pulled out a balloons filled with air and resumed his chakra control exercises, squeezing it gently between his palms.

Umino Iruka, the instructor overseeing the training, noticed Kiba's abrupt shift in focus. The scar across his nose wrinkled slightly as he frowned, making his way toward the disinterested student.

"Why did you stop?" Iruka asked, crossing his arms.

"Waste of time," Kiba muttered without looking up.

Iruka raised an eyebrow. "This is an essential skill for any shinobi. Why dismiss it so easily?"

"Because I'm not a Sarutobi or an Uchiha," Kiba replied flatly. "Besides, all that clattering is just noise pollution."

Iruka blinked. "Noise pollution?"

"Carrying metal weapons around makes too much sound. A sword would be quieter."

"You know there are soundproof pouches for shuriken, right?" Iruka countered. "And you can store them in sealing scrolls if noise is really a concern."

Kiba shrugged. "Fair point. Still not gonna waste my time on this."

"There's a proficiency test on this later," Iruka reminded him.

"And?" Kiba shot back. "Go help someone who actually needs it. I don't."

Iruka exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. He had dealt with stubborn students before, but Kiba's dismissive attitude was something else.

For a brief moment, he wondered if this was how Naruto's teachers had felt before realizing that at least Naruto had enthusiasm.

Shaking his head, Iruka turned away. "Fine. But don't come complaining when you fail."

Kiba didn't respond, already refocused on his balloon exercise, his expression unreadable.

Around him, the sounds of training continued shuriken thudding into targets, students laughing or groaning, the occasional reprimand from instructors. But Kiba stayed in his own world, indifferent to it all.

The sparring class began immediately after the previous lesson, and Kiba now stood across from Sasuke, his stance low and balanced. He raised his fists in a tight boxing guard, the only martial art he had trained in.

It was simple, effective, and something he had picked up quickly in the past.

Sasuke studied Kiba's stance with narrowed eyes. He had never seen such a posture before, feet light, shoulders loose, hands protecting the chin. Unfamiliar, but not intimidating.

Kiba shifted his weight, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. Sasuke mirrored his readiness, lowering his center of gravity.

Around them, the girls erupted in cheers, their voices ringing across the training ground.

"Sasuke!"

"You've got this! Show him who's stronger!"

Even Sakura and Ino joined in, their faces flushed with excitement.

"Kyaa, Sasuke!"

"Win this, Sasuke!"

Mizuki, serving as Iruka's assistant instructor, raised his hand and then swiftly brought it down.

"Start!"

The moment the match began, Sasuke lunged forward only for Kiba's jab to snap out like a whip, striking him squarely in the face. Sasuke staggered back, blinking in surprise.

Fast.

Gritting his teeth, Sasuke surged forward again. But Kiba was already moving, sidestepping to the right before lashing out with a low kick that cracked against Sasuke's calf.

Sasuke grunted but pushed through, retaliating with a high kick aimed at Kiba's head. Kiba crossed his arms, absorbing the impact before shoving Sasuke's leg away.

Without pause, Sasuke threw a straight punch toward Kiba's stomach. Kiba caught the blow against his forearm, twisting his body to the side before delivering another sharp kick to the same spot on Sasuke's calf.

This time, Sasuke leapt back, barely avoiding the strike. As he tried to close the distance again, Kiba feinted with another jab. Sasuke instinctively braced, only for Kiba to pivot and slam another kick into his calf.

The impact sent a jolt of pain up Sasuke's leg. His movements slowed, his balance wavering. Before he could recover, Kiba pressed forward, throwing a right hook. Sasuke barely raised his arm in time to block, but the force still rattled him.

Kiba didn't let up. He shifted his weight to the left, and Sasuke tensed, expecting a punch from that side. But it was a feint, Kiba's right hook crashed into Sasuke's liver instead, knocking the air from his lungs. Sasuke stumbled back, his breath ragged.

Before he could steady himself, Kiba darted to the side and lashed out with yet another calf kick.

The spectators buzzed with excitement. This wasn't a one-sided match like many of the others, every exchange was sharp, calculated. Sasuke landed hits, but Kiba answered each one in kind.

The fight was far from over.

Seeing no other option, Sasuke decided to go all in. He lowered his stance and charged forward, his head tucked down to make it harder for Kiba to land a clean hit.

Kiba braced himself, ready to counter, but Sasuke suddenly dropped one hand to the ground, using it to propel himself upward. His leg snapped out in a sharp, unexpected kick aimed straight at Kiba's head.

The impact was solid. Kiba's head jerked back from the force, and his feet left the ground for a brief moment before he crashed onto the dirt.

A dull ache pulsed through Kiba's skull as he pushed himself up. His vision cleared just enough to see the boundary line beneath him.

"I lost," he admitted, shaking his head to clear the lingering dizziness.

Mizuki stepped forward, nodding in approval. "Both of you did well. Sasuke wins." He motioned between them. "Seal of reconciliation."

The two touched hands in the customary gesture, but as Kiba pulled away, he glanced at his forearm, the skin was already red and tender from blocking Sasuke's earlier strikes.

Meanwhile, Sasuke limped slightly as he walked off, his calf throbbing with every step. A quiet thought settled in his mind: 'I need to be more careful next time.'

He had let his guard down. Worse, he had never faced an opponent who deliberately targeted his legs to cripple his movement. His taijutsu relied heavily on kicks, and Kiba had exploited that weakness perfectly.

It was a lesson he wouldn't forget.

— — — — —

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