The air buzzed with anticipation. The final round of the tournament was moments away, and everyone—students, teachers, even the Hokage himself—watched the stage with bated breath.
Yuki sat quietly on the sidelines, his blade laid across his lap, eyes closed in steady meditation. But his mind was far from still. He was reviewing every move Tokasu had made throughout the tournament—his shadow feints, misdirection, the way he always forced his opponents into positions they didn't realize were traps until it was too late.
Yuki had seen enough to know Tokasu wasn't going to fight him head-on. That would be suicide. No, Tokasu would wait, manipulate, plan four moves ahead like a shinobi version of shogi. And Yuki… would meet that challenge head-on with both steel and strategy.
Across the field, Tokasu stood beneath the shade of a tree, his fingers steepled as he stared at the arena. His mind ran through every angle. He had recovered enough chakra to execute his full plan. He wasn't trying to overpower Yuki—he knew that wasn't possible. He was going to outwit him.
And he thought he had the perfect plan.
When both boys stepped into the center of the field, the crowd quieted. The referee raised his hand.
"Final match: Yuki Kazanari vs. Tokasu Nara… Begin!"
The fight began with the faintest flicker of motion. A clash of patience and preparation.
Both combatants moved cautiously, testing the waters with feints and shallow strikes. Yuki launched a few probing slashes with his blade, clean and graceful, only to find shadows stretching across the field to intercept him. Tokasu moved like a whisper, always staying just outside the range of danger, manipulating the terrain with subtle changes in his stance.
Yuki blurred into motion, a burst of Body Flicker carrying him across the battlefield like smoke on the wind. His blade gleamed in the light as he attacked from odd angles, looking for any crack in Tokasu's calm defense.
But Tokasu's shadows danced with him, responding not like weapons but like thoughts—fluid, immediate, reactive. Spikes of darkness shot upward as Yuki advanced, forcing him to flip back. The shadows curved unnaturally, looping and rising like serpents aiming for a kill.
Yuki landed lightly, his feet barely disturbing the dust, and raised his hand into a half-seal.
"Frostfire Style: Fireball Jutsu!" he roared.
A massive, pale-blue fireball burst from his mouth, spiraling across the field toward Tokasu. The crowd gasped at its size and speed—but Tokasu was already in motion, hands forming signs.
"Shadow Wall!"
A dome of overlapping shadows rose up, absorbing the heat and blocking the worst of the blast. But the fireball wasn't ordinary—it burned with Yuki's Frostfire, a deadly combination of searing heat and freezing chakra. The dome sizzled and cracked, melting and reforming all at once.
Tokasu dropped the shield just before it shattered and countered with a series of shadow tendrils, launching them like spears toward Yuki. But the swordsman had already vanished, streaking behind the Nara with another flash of Body Flicker.
Their clash escalated.
Yuki unleashed a flurry of slashes, forcing Tokasu into the defensive. His blade cut through shadows and steel alike, parrying tendrils and stabbing into the ground as shadow spikes erupted. Tokasu twisted and dodged, but Yuki's relentless footwork and flowing bladework kept the pressure high.
Knowing he couldn't win with technique alone, Yuki poured chakra into his blade. A fiery aura erupted from it—Chakra Blade: Fire Form.
The heat radiated outward, melting the ground beneath his feet. He slashed, and fire followed, arcing toward Tokasu like a dragon's tail. Tokasu dove to the side, only narrowly escaping the searing blade. His shadows lashed out wildly, trying to trap Yuki, but the flames burned through them with crackling fury.
Still, Tokasu didn't panic. He started funneling Yuki's aggression, slowly drawing him into a setup.
Yuki noticed it.
He was being funneled. The shadows were thickening in certain directions, herding him toward a patch of uneven ground. Subtle but obvious… at least to someone watching carefully.
He smirked inwardly.
"Smart," he thought, "but I'm smarter."
He Body Flickered to the right—seemingly falling into Tokasu's trap—and during his next dash, he flicked an ice kunai toward Tokasu's shoulder. Tokasu dodged at the last second as expected.
Tokasu's eyes flicked toward it, then away. He didn't even flinch.
But what he didn't see was the tiny, nearly invisible seal carved into the kunai's icy surface.
The battle raged on.
Tokasu began pushing harder, his shadows growing more aggressive. He used larger formations—walls, spikes, loops meant to restrict movement and force Yuki into tighter and tighter spaces. His plan was working. Yuki was sweating, darting from side to side, his flickers becoming shorter and more desperate.
Tokasu smiled faintly.
"Caught you."
From the edges of the arena, shadows surged like a tidal wave. In an instant, they rose around Yuki—sharp, dark spires curving inward and then sealing shut like the jaws of a beast. The black dome shimmered faintly, humming with chakra. It wasn't just a trap; it was a cage, total and absolute.
Nothing could be seen from the outside. Yuki had been completely consumed by the prison of shadow.
Tokasu stood just beyond it, his hands tense in their seal, sweat beading on his brow as he poured more chakra into the jutsu. He didn't let up for a second. No one had ever broken free of this.
Seconds passed. The arena was silent. No sound came from within the dome—not a shout, not a clash, not a breath.
Then—
"AND YOUR WINNER IS... YUKI KAZANARI!!!"
The words rang through the silence like lightning through still air.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Tokasu froze, his jutsu faltering for the first time.
"What…?" he whispered, almost unable to process it.
His chakra slipped, and the shadows collapsed, melting back into the ground.
The space inside was empty.
Completely, utterly empty.
Tokasu took a step back, stunned—before he felt it.
The softest prick of pressure… right at the base of his neck.
Cold metal.
A blade.
He turned slightly—and there stood Yuki Kazanari, calm and collected, sword extended.
Yuki's expression was unreadable. Quiet. Focused.
Tokasu stared, the pieces half-forming in his head. He replayed every moment. The strange flicker of chakra the brief instant before the trap fully closed…
But he couldn't see it. Couldn't find the gap. The deception was perfect.
He let out a breath and closed his eyes.
"…Damn," he muttered with a tired grin.
The crowd was still roaring.
Yuki slowly lowered his sword and gave a respectful nod.
Tokasu returned it, proud—even in defeat.