My girl

Found it?

Found what?

After a brief, almost suffocating moment of blank-minded shock, the stands erupted like a vat of boiling oil struck by a red-hot boulder. A tremendous roar of shouts, gasps, and heated debate threatened to tear the entire training ground apart!

"H-he found an opening?! He found an opening in a combined ninjutsu that airtight, moving too fast for our eyes to follow?!" Choza Akimichi gaped, forgetting to eat the delicious chip he had been holding for ages. His round face was filled with utter disbelief and the bewilderment of someone whose entire understanding of the world had been shaken.

"That has to be it! Nothing else could explain it! Only by instantly seeing through and perfectly exploiting the minute differences in the users' individual chakra, along with a synchronization flaw lasting less than a ten-thousandth of a second when they performed Fang Over Fang together, could he create that single chance of survival that should only exist in theory!" another student, who sounded well versed in ninjutsu theory, declared loudly and emphatically. He tried to use the logic and theories he knew to force some explanation onto the miraculous scene that had unfolded before him.

"He's incredible! That's Minato for you! His observation, his analysis, his courage! He's practically inhuman!" The girls' eyes all but sparkled with tangible pink stars, filled with boundless admiration and adoration, as though they had witnessed the birth of a legendary hero.

"Terrifying insight... and judgment and execution so calm they're almost inhuman..." Even some students who had quietly dismissed or envied Minato, a civilian-born boy who drew so much attention and was hailed as a "genius," now had to admit their admiration. A trace of barely concealed awe even flickered deep in their eyes. Strength was the most effective weapon against prejudice.

Almost everyone instinctively assumed, with absolute certainty, that what Minato Namikaze had "found" was the fleeting, minute flaw in the precision and timing of Tsume Inuzuka and Kuromaru's combined Fang Over Fang-an opening that scarcely existed outside theory. Only that could offer an explanation even remotely consistent with their logic and understanding for this incredible, seemingly impossible, miraculous evasion. They could neither imagine nor comprehend any other possibility.

Tsume Inuzuka clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles turned bloodlessly white. Her face was filled with fierce resentment and profound frustration at having the family secret technique she took such pride in utterly defeated.

But as she looked across the field at Minato, who appeared as calm as if he had merely finished an ordinary workout and even wore an encouraging smile, she finally bit hard on her lower lip and let out a loud, thoroughly sulky "Tch."

She suddenly raised her head and announced loudly, her voice slightly hoarse with emotion, "Fine, you're good! Your eyes are as sharp as a monster's! This time... Kuromaru and I lost completely!" She accepted defeat openly and without quibbling. Yet as she turned and strode off the field with the visibly dejected Kuromaru, whose tail drooped, she could not resist looking back and mustering her last ounce of strength to add one defiant remark, as though it might salvage a little of her pride. "Next time... next time, I'll find a move you absolutely can't dodge! Just you wait!"

Kuromaru's ears drooped too. With a hurt, exhausted whimper and repeated glances back at Minato, the dog trotted after an owner who still held her head stubbornly high despite losing the match, then disappeared into the passage leading to the rest area.

Minato remained where he was, listening to the heated discussions about how he had "found an opening" wash over him like a tsunami. As he watched Tsume's stubborn back, still straight and refusing to bend as she left, his smile seemed to deepen a little, carrying a subtle appreciation and gentleness unrelated to the victory itself. It was respect for a worthy opponent and an unyielding fighting spirit.

With an air of complete casualness, he raised his right hand and brushed his long, pale fingertips against his left wrist, light and swift as a feather. There, beneath the tightly fastened cuff of his training clothes, something strange seemed to be wrapped around his wrist-something that was not fabric, cool to the touch, slender, and tough. At the instant his fingertips touched it, a faint, intricate, archaic rune, almost the same color as his skin, flickered imperceptibly and vanished. No one noticed.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping with apparent casualness over the noisy, seething stands. In one particular, relatively quiet corner, it lingered for a warm, lingering moment on a girl with brilliant red hair like burning flames. Her hands were unconsciously clasped tight before her chest, and she stared without blinking, as though his figure were the only thing left in her world.

Kushina Uzumaki was watching him, having forgotten all the surrounding noise, her earlier jealousy, and her little pang of displeasure. Her purple eyes, usually sparkling like gemstones with stubbornness, liveliness, or occasional anger, were astonishingly bright now. They brimmed with pure, undisguised wonder and shock, along with a strange new light quietly taking shape that even she might not yet have recognized-as though she had discovered the brightest star in the night sky.

Their gazes quietly met, then parted at once. As though struck by an invisible but searing current, Kushina felt her traitorous heart skip a beat and abruptly lowered her head, instinctively trying to hide her cheeks as they grew hot like spreading sunset clouds. But a brilliant blush had already spread unchecked from the roots of her small, pale ears across her entire face, and even her slender neck had turned faintly pink.

The barely perceptible, gentle curve at the corners of Minato's mouth finally became a small, genuine smile, like the first thaw of ice and snow, like sunlight breaking through clouds. He lingered no longer and paid no further attention to the uproar behind him. Turning, he bowed respectfully to the teacher serving as referee at the center of the field, who likewise wore an expression of surprise and approval. Then, beneath gazes filled with astonishment, admiration, feverish curiosity, and all manner of complicated emotions, he walked slowly off the field with the same steady, unhurried composure, leaving all the noise and speculation behind.

In an unobtrusive patch of shadow at the edge of the training ground, Shinji Uchiha leaned against a cold, rough wall with his arms folded. He had watched every detail of the spectacular match from beginning to end. His face still wore that bland expression, as though nothing in the world interested him, but deep within his eyes, black as an abyss and seemingly holding swirling stars, a faint, keen gleam of interest flashed-like a sleeping predator discovering prey worth its attention.

"Combat intelligence at this level, danger perception bordering on precognition, microscopic chakra control, and the courage and decisiveness to stake everything at the crucial moment!" he murmured, so quietly that only he could hear his own words. "Minato Namikaze, huh... Sure enough, with people like these around, this world is starting to get a little interesting. It's not so boring anymore."

The impact and repercussions of this third-year final practical combat test clearly would not remain confined to the Ninja Academy's little training ground. On this day, a seed of legend called the "Yellow Flash" seemed to have been quietly planted, alongside that blue figure passing through a storm of death and that golden hair dazzling in the sunlight. All it needed was the tempering wind and rain of the years ahead to take root, sprout, and grow into a towering tree.