RecklessDawn

  The sun hung high in the sky, beating down on the Academy’s training field, where the air smelled of warm dirt and sweat. A circle of students had gathered, their excited whispers filling the space between the rustling of leaves in the nearby trees.

  At the center stood two boys, their differences stark.

  Ryoji Senju, the newly recognized head of his cn, stood with effortless composure. His form-fitting silk shirt clung to his lean frame, the navy hue darkened slightly by the midday heat. His golden eyes, flecked with scarlet, glowed under the sun, but there was no fire in them—just the cool, unshaken stillness of someone who already knew the outcome. His cargo pants, snug yet loose enough for movement, barely shifted as he stood there, hands tucked casually into his pockets.

  Yagami Uchiha, by contrast, was all tension. His fists clenched tight, shoulders squared with barely contained frustration. His dark eyes burned with resentment as he stared at Ryoji, as if sheer hatred could bridge the chasm between their abilities. His breath was slow but heavy, trying to steady himself against the weight of reality pressing down on him. He knew. Deep down, he knew he was no match. But that didn’t matter. Not when Ryoji stood between him and what he wanted.

  Not when Ryoji had forbidden him from being near her.

  Himari Senju watched from the sidelines, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Yagami didn’t dare gnce at her. Not now. Not when he was about to prove himself.

  The instructor stepped forward. “This is a friendly spar. You stop when I say, understood?”

  Yagami gave a sharp nod, his knuckles turning white around the grip of the rubber training kunai.

  Ryoji merely hummed in response, his posture unchanging. The instructor raised his hand. “Begin.”

  Yagami lunged forward instantly, his feet kicking up dust as he charged. His kunai sshed out in a tight arc, aimed for Ryoji’s ribs.

  Ryoji moved at the st moment, twisting his body just enough for the kunai to skim past his silk shirt without a sound. Before Yagami could recover, a sharp tap struck his ankle.

  His footing wavered. Then came the open palm.

  The sound of flesh meeting flesh cracked through the air as Ryoji smacked Yagami clean across the face, the force spinning him sideways. His feet tangled, and he stumbled before hitting the ground hard, rolling once before stopping on his stomach.

  A few gasps rippled through the crowd. Someone stifled a ugh.

  Yagami’s face burned—not just from the hit, but from the sheer embarrassment of it. He pushed himself up, shaking his head. His vision blurred for a moment, but he forced himself to his feet.

  Not again.

  Gritting his teeth, he surged forward once more, this time feinting right before stabbing directly toward Ryoji’s chest. His grip tightened, putting everything he had into this strike.

  Ryoji stepped inside his guard.

  Before Yagami could react, his wrist was caught in a vice grip. A sharp twist sent pain ncing up his arm, his fingers numbing from the pressure. The kunai slipped from his grasp, bouncing onto the dirt.

  Another wave of murmurs from the watching students. The instructor, standing nearby, said nothing. This wasn’t his fight to interrupt.

  Ryoji let go, turning away as he walked toward the sensei. His body nguage was clear. This match was over.

  But it wasn’t. Not for Yagami.

  His breath came in ragged, uneven bursts. His fingers twitched as they reached for his waist, where something real, something cold, pressed against his skin. A real kunai.

  The humiliation, the stares, the way she must’ve been looking at him right now—it all boiled over. Before he could think, before logic could intervene, he was moving.

  His body unched forward, kunai raised. He didn’t even see Ryoji turn. He only saw a golden fsh before—

  CRACK.

  The heel of Ryoji’s foot shot upward, smashing into Yagami’s chin with terrifying precision. His head snapped back violently, his feet leaving the ground as his body lifted into the air for a brief, weightless moment.

  Then, before he could even hit the ground, Ryoji was already there.

  An elbow struck him square in the face, the impact shattering his nose instantly. Blood spttered across the dirt as pain exploded through Yagami’s skull. His body went limp, but the assault wasn’t finished.

  A knee rocketed up, colliding against his cheekbone. His head jerked sideways as another sickening crack echoed through the training ground.

  Then, finally, he crashed to the ground.

  Silence.

  Yagami’s fingers twitched weakly near the fallen kunai, his shallow breaths wet with blood. His face was an unrecognizable mess of red, his nose crooked, his eyelids fluttering.

  Ryoji exhaled softly through his nose, then turned away, making his way toward the instructor once more.

  The fight was over.

  [Break]

  Blood still stained the dirt where Yagami had fallen. The scent of iron lingered, sharp against the warm noon air. The whispers had died down, repced by an uneasy silence as two chūnin carefully carried the unconscious Uchiha off the field, his shattered nose and fractured skull a gruesome reminder of how one-sided the fight had been.

  Most of the students didn’t know where to look. Some stared at the blood, some at the departing stretcher, but all of them felt the shift in the air.

  Ryoji Senju still stood in the center of the field. His golden eyes, flecked with scarlet, were unreadable, his breath steady, his posture unchanged. But something had shifted.

  Then, he raised his hand.

  **Wood Release.**

  Thick branches coiled upward from the earth, twisting together into a polished wooden desk that solidified with seamless precision. The act alone should have been impressive, yet no one reacted—not yet. Because what followed was far heavier.

  From his cargo pants pocket, Ryoji withdrew a scroll. Bck-cased. Golden-capped.

  A bck scroll. Not red-capped—for a jōnin. Not standard. Gold. For a cn leader. A sharp intake of breath came from one of the chūnin.

  "Attention!" the instructor’s voice rang out, loud, commanding. The entire training ground froze.

  It was instinct. Reflex. A soldier’s response to a superior officer entering the room. Because in that moment, Ryoji Senju was no longer a student.

  He was the Head of the Senju Cn. A five-year-old child had just outranked everyone present. Silence fell like a hammer. No one dared speak. No one dared move.

  Ryoji pced the scroll onto the desk with a quiet thunk, his fingers moving with calm precision as he unrolled it. The bck parchment shimmered slightly in the sunlight, its gold-capped ends gleaming like a warning.

  Then, he picked up a brush.

  The students barely breathed. Most didn’t even understand what was happening, but the instructor—an experienced jōnin—did. He knew exactly what was unfolding.

  A gold-capped bck scroll was not an ordinary report. It was not for discipline, not for an internal cn matter.

  It was for the Hokage. It was a record of conflict that could lead to war. Even more terrifying... the scroll itself dictated absolute truth.

  A specialized fuinjutsu seal ran through the parchment, allowing only the unaltered reality to be written. No exaggeration. No deception. No bias. Once written, it became an unquestionable record.

  And once opened, it could only be read in the event of negotiations—when war loomed close enough that diplomacy was the st option.

  Writing on it meant only one thing:

  This moment would be remembered in history. Ryoji’s brush met ink. And the moment it touched the scroll, something unseen stirred in the air.

  A chakra seal activated. Somewhere in Konoha, a hidden ANBU team had just been alerted.

  They would arrive soon. They would take the scroll. And once they did, this event would be locked away until the day it was needed.

  The instructor stood stiffly, hands behind his back, watching as Ryoji wrote with slow, deliberate strokes. His expression was neutral, but inside, he knew...

  This wasn’t just an Academy spar anymore. This was cn politics. This was a warning.

  The watching students, though ignorant of the full weight of the moment, felt it. They didn’t need to understand fuinjutsu to know that something irreversible had just happened.

  Even Himari Senju, arms still crossed, her expression calm, watched her twin in silence. Minutes passed.

  Then, Ryoji set the brush down. He let the ink settle before rolling the scroll back up, his hands moving as smoothly as if he’d done this a hundred times before. And just like that... The weight of his cn head authority faded. He was just a boy again.

  But no one would ever see him the same way. Without a word, he picked up the scroll, tucked it away, and walked off the training ground. The whispers didn’t start again until he was long gone.

  RecklessDawn

  welp... that was brutal. I'm gonna be honest, I'm gonna have Boruto and Himawari in this, for some new gen action so many chapters into the future. Though that's far into the future. But the whole Otsutsuki arc is boring. So, characters yes, lore no.

  [colpse]Which brings me to this. I'm gonna be altering canon a great bit. Like, why didn't the academy check the Chakra Nature of Student? My assumption, which I'll be reflecting here, they did. Naruto was pying hookey.

  This arc is halfway finished, as of writing this note, chapter 5&6 are done and 7&8 are being edited. Next arc will have some smut, and a lot of hijinks at a certain character's expense.