Torai's expression changed abruptly, as though Shikaku had struck a nerve. "Nonsense!" he snapped. "Are you trying to shake my focus?"
Yet over the next few exchanges, a subtle, steady shift began to take place on the battlefield.
No matter how Torai changed his angle of attack, sped up his throws, or altered his fireballs' trajectories, Shikaku always seemed to know what was coming, making precisely the right response half a step in advance. Searing fireballs grazed past him by a hair's breadth, while deadly shuriken sliced uselessly through empty air. Shikaku's movements were still neither swift nor flashy, but they carried the composure of someone who had already seen the next move-as though every path Torai's attacks could take had been rehearsed countless times in his mind.
"What's going on?" someone in the stands murmured in bewilderment. "Shikaku seems to... predict everything Torai does. How can he be that accurate?"
Choza Akimichi sat among the crowd, hugging a large bag of potato chips and crunching away as he offered a muffled explanation on his friend's behalf. "Shikaku's definitely plotting something again. He loves watching his opponents like this. Such a pain."
Torai felt it more keenly than anyone. It was as though he had fallen into an invisible, sticky web. Each fierce attack was another desperate struggle that only tightened the bonds around him. Shikaku's seemingly lazy gaze now felt as sharp as a scalpel, as though it could pierce his muscles and read the nerve signals for his next movement.
"Enough!" Torai growled, stifled by the feeling that he had been completely read and hemmed in at every turn. He leaped backward, forcibly opening up the distance, and formed a complex series of hand seals before his chest faster than ever before. A vast amount of chakra gathered in his throat, and the air around him began to ripple with heat. "Let's see you dodge this! Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
Whoosh-BOOM!!!
A massive fireball, dense and blazing, far larger in diameter than any of his earlier Phoenix Flower Fire attacks, erupted from Torai's mouth like a miniature sun! Waves of scorching air surged outward, making the spectators in the front rows feel their faces sting with heat and instinctively lean back. This was the Uchiha Clan's signature ninjutsu, renowned throughout the Shinobi World. Even wielded by the still-inexperienced Torai, its power far exceeded that of an ordinary Genin, bearing down with destructive force.
An unprecedented gleam flashed in Shikaku's eyes-this was the moment he had been waiting for, even carefully steering Torai toward!
Just as the enormous Great Fireball was about to swallow Shikaku's tiny figure with its crushing force, Shikaku did something that shocked everyone-he did not retreat or try to dodge to either side, where the only apparent escape routes lay. Instead, he charged straight toward the destructive fireball without hesitation!
Against the immense fireball, his figure looked as insignificant as a moth flying into a flame. Several brief cries of alarm even rose from the stands.
Yet in the next instant, a miracle occurred. As Shikaku's charging figure reached the light-distorting heat at the fireball's edge, he abruptly twisted and changed direction at an utterly bizarre angle that defied the human body's natural movement, so fast that he left a clear afterimage on the spectators' retinas. At the same time, another "Shikaku" appeared where he had begun his charge, only to be instantly swallowed by the Great Fireball and vanish in a puff of white smoke.
It was a clone! During his earlier, seemingly desperate evasions, he had used the fleeting visual disruption before a fireball rose to silently create a solid clone as bait. Meanwhile, relying on his precise predictions of Torai's attack habits, his real body had slipped into the blind spot behind Torai's flank-a gap in both vision and reaction created by the heavy chakra expenditure and exhalation required to unleash a large-scale ninjutsu!
Torai had just finished breathing out the Great Fireball and was caught in that unavoidable instant of rigidity, his previous exertion spent and his next movement not yet ready. He suddenly sensed Shikaku appear like a ghost extremely close to his flank. Alarm surged through him, and he instinctively tried to retreat, his right hand darting toward his ninja tool pouch to block or counterattack-
But it was too late.
"Shadow Imitation Technique..." Shikaku's calm, even voice rang clearly in Torai's ear like the toll of a final judgment. "...complete."
Torai's body went rigid. A cold, irresistible force instantly seized control of his entire body! To his horror, he discovered that his body no longer obeyed his will. Involuntarily, he adopted exactly the same posture as Shikaku opposite him-right hand extended, left leg drawn back, body slightly bent-moving in perfect synchronization, like a reflection in a mirror.
"What?! That's impossible!" Torai struggled with all his might, muscles taut and veins bulging on his forehead. But the binding force from his shadow was unyielding, locking every joint and muscle firmly in place. Even moving his eyes became agonizingly difficult. "You... when did you..."
Shikaku's breathing had grown noticeably heavier, and fine beads of sweat dotted his temples. Maintaining the Shadow Imitation Technique was clearly a considerable strain on both his chakra and mental strength, yet his voice remained unnervingly steady. "Ever since you first used Phoenix Flower Fire and tried to circle around to my flank. Every move you made in search of the best angle of attack, every grain of dust you kicked up-without your realizing it, they all added another invisible thread to this final web I was weaving."
Torai's pupils abruptly contracted in utter shock. "Impossible! How could you predict exactly where I'd end up every time I moved?!"
"I didn't need to predict everything," Shikaku said with the composure of a sage. "I only needed to... guide you."
Slowly, almost ceremonially, he raised his right hand. Opposite him, Torai moved in perfect synchronization like a puppet on strings, his face filled with defiance and the strain of his struggle.
"Your attack patterns are actually quite consistent," Shikaku began, as though breaking down a complex math problem. "Every time you finish using a ninjutsu that consumes a little more chakra, regardless of how effective it was, you habitually move about three meters to your right-my left-trying to find a new angle of attack that you consider safer."
"When you throw multiple shuriken to blanket an area, there's an extremely brief but definite moment when your gaze instinctively sweeps toward the target's knees first."