Kiba's Second Provocation

Ling stepping in to shield Hinata from the rolling log at the training ground quickly became the newest topic of conversation.

If people had previously spoken of him mostly as "formidable" or "dangerous," this time there was an added layer of complicated emotion that even many of the children could not explain. That instant when he had truly rushed into danger made the gap between them far more visible than classroom grades ever could.

Kiba was especially annoyed by it.

It was not that he disliked Ling for saving someone. It was just that being outdone every few days was incredibly frustrating.

"After school today, fight me."

Before the afternoon taijutsu class began, he stopped Ling directly in his path, his tone even harsher than last time.

Ino rolled her eyes beside them. "Why are you always picking on him?"

"What's it got to do with you?" Kiba snorted, his gaze fixed on Ling's face. "The obstacle course last time didn't count as a real fight. This time, we'll follow taijutsu class rules. No ninjutsu, no weapons. We'll see who falls first."

This time, even Iruka did not object immediately.

It was not because he was letting them run wild. He could see that Kiba was holding in a great deal of resentment. Rather than letting it turn into endless provocations in daily life, it would be better to vent it through an official sparring match.

"Fine." Iruka tapped a wooden post. "But stop when I say stop. No going too far."

The field was quickly cleared.

The moment Kiba stepped onto the field, he was completely different from usual. The Inuzuka clan's style naturally leaned toward close-range pouncing and tearing. His knees bent slightly, his shoulders and back tensed, and his eyes resembled those of a young beast watching its prey. His entire body stood on the verge of exploding into motion at any moment.

Ling remained as calm as ever. His right arm extended half an inch forward, and his stance was lower than it had been when he fought Sasuke.

Begin!

Kiba lunged forward almost the moment the shout fell.

Unlike Sasuke's clean, direct linear attacks, Kiba's movements were wilder, messier, and closer to instinct. His first punch aimed for the face, while his second step swept low at Ling's legs. The vicious flow of his movements made even the watching students instinctively step half a pace back.

Ling dodged twice in succession, but instead of retreating a third time, he raised his elbow and forcefully blocked Kiba's close-range charge.

Bang!

Their shoulders crashed together violently.

Kiba gritted his teeth and pressed forward. His strength was greater than expected, and he seemed as if he were truly trying to tear into Ling. Ling sank slightly through his feet, using compressed chakra to stabilize his lower body, then threw a short backhand punch toward Kiba's ribs.

Kiba twisted at the waist and barely avoided it, then lunged again from the side.

Their exchange was not as "beautiful" as Ling's fight with Sasuke, but it was fiercer and denser. Close combat, grappling, turns, then another lunge—there was barely any room to breathe. Quite a few students at the edge of the field watched with tense faces.

"Kiba's serious today."

"Ling hasn't backed down either..."

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes, seeing more than the others did.

He noticed that Ling was not relying purely on bursts of speed this time. Instead, he put more of his strength into stability and dismantling attacks. Whenever Kiba tried to drag the rhythm into his own wild territory, Ling used the shortest movements possible to deflect that momentum before striking back.

That meant one thing.

Ling was adapting to battle instead of simply relying on talent to tough it out.

Kiba in the field gradually realized this as well.

The longer they fought, the more irritated he became.

Ling was like a jagged stone. He was not much fiercer than Kiba himself, yet no matter how Kiba charged, he simply could not bite through him.

"Stop acting so damn steady!"

Kiba growled, suddenly lowering his body before exploding forward again from extremely close range. This burst was clearly faster than the previous ones, and even Iruka frowned slightly.

Ling's gaze sharpened, but he did not take it head-on.

His feet shifted. Compressed chakra burst briefly through the meridians in his calves, pulling his body sideways by half a step. He narrowly avoided Kiba's frontal pounce. The next instant, he seized Kiba's wrist with his backhand, redirected him to the side using the force of Kiba's charge, then followed up with a shoulder slam.

Kiba was thrown off balance and stumbled forward two steps before finally steadying himself with one knee striking the ground.

The sidelines fell silent for an instant before erupting in cries of surprise.

Kiba raised his head, his eyes full of unwillingness. He wanted to rise again, but Iruka stopped him with a shout.

"Enough!"

The teacher stepped into the field, looked at both of them, and announced in a deep voice, "Ling wins this match."

Kiba took two harsh breaths, one palm pressed against the ground, his knuckles white with tension. A loss was still a loss, but he was much quieter than last time. He knew full well that Ling had not won through luck, nor had he simply crushed him with greater strength. He had suppressed Kiba's rhythm in a genuine confrontation.

That hurt more than losing to brute force, but it also made him respect Ling more.

"I'll beat you next time." Kiba rose to his feet and threw out the words viciously.

Ling looked at him and nodded. "Okay."

There was no mockery, nor was there any pity.

He simply accepted those words seriously.

Kiba froze for half a breath, then snorted and turned away.

After class, Iruka stopped Ling alone. "That lateral shift you used just now was steadier than before."

Ling replied, "I broke the burst apart."

"Very good." Iruka paused, then added, "But don't forget, you will not always be fighting people your own age. The stronger the technique, the more important it is to keep it hidden."

Ling understood what he meant.

Though he had not exposed the embryonic form of his explosive technique in today's fight, he had already let many people see how stable he was in close combat. The most dangerous thing about a genius was not being strong once in a while, but steadily filling in every weakness.

That evening, while Kiba sat alone by the edge of the field eating a rice ball, Ling passed by and tossed him a bottle of water.

Kiba caught it reflexively and frowned. "What's this for?"

"You fought well just now," Ling said.

Kiba froze, as though he had not expected to hear such an assessment. He stubbornly turned his face away. "Give it a rest. It's not like I can't accept losing."

"I know."

Ling left after saying that, without lingering.

Kiba looked at the water in his hand and gave a quiet snort after a long moment.

Annoying as he was.

Kiba had to admit that Uchiha Ling was becoming more and more like an opponent worth thoroughly beating down.

Not far away, Ino watched the scene, her gaze shifting slightly. She suddenly realized that the most troublesome thing about Ling had never been how strong he was. It was that whenever someone was most unwilling to accept him, he would do something that made it even harder to truly dislike him.