Chapter 114: Forty-Sixty — His Sixty
A puff of white misted from the dark-haired boy's mouth and nose as he forced his eyes to stay open, watching the girl standing not far ahead. The hand gripping his blade had been trembling ever since her last close-range exchange — he could barely hold on.
Sasuke knew he was no match for her. He'd always known.
From the time they were children, Sakura had been the best of their generation. Graduating the Academy in just two years had put her so far ahead of her peers it wasn't even a contest.
When she'd reappeared in his life as his teammate, Sasuke had never for a moment believed she'd spent the years from eight to twelve standing still.
That belief was confirmed in the Forest of Death, when they met the man called Orochimaru.
Everything clicked into place.
Sakura had clearly been assigned — under some arrangement — to hide her true level and drop down to Team 7 to watch over him, the last surviving Uchiha.
But there was no way he could spend his whole life sheltering behind a girl.
Right here, right now, Sasuke was going to prove himself.
Blue-white lightning coiled up the blade in his hand, crackling with sharp, clean bursts of electricity.
The sword had been forged from the same material as the brass knuckles he'd given Sakura — both crafted by the ninja cats from the Executioner's Blade and chakra metal kept by the Uchiha clan within the Ninja Cat Tribe's care. Its conductivity for chakra was unmatched.
Sakura watched him wind up, then crooked a finger at him.
Come on, then.
Sasuke pressed his lips together. His expression was completely focused.
He wasn't going to let her bait him. His composure had always been rock-solid — the only person who'd ever truly rattled him was Itachi.
He moved.
Fast as wind, striking like lightning. In an instant he had closed the distance entirely, the crackling blade driving straight at her face —
— and just before contact, some near-instinctual correction pulled the angle wide.
Sakura stepped back half a pace and slid to the side, and the strike missed. Sasuke didn't pause. Keeping his speed, he swung again, pressing forward.
The lightning-laced blade came at her again and again, each thrust precise and relentless — and Sakura avoided every single one. Something about it felt strangely familiar, though he couldn't place it. He set the feeling aside and kept pushing, driving her backward step by step.
Sakura dodged each attack and found herself genuinely impressed.
A proper second lead, alright. He's already formidable.
Before graduating the Academy, he'd been strong for a genin — but just a genin. Now, only a short while later, he was practically at tokubetsu jōnin level.
And now he had an entire war to sharpen himself on. He'd grow even faster.
What made it remarkable was that Sasuke's strength wasn't resting on the Sharingan.
The dōjutsu gave him extraordinary dynamic vision — no question. But it was a supporting tool, nothing more. His actual mastery of Lightning Release and swordsmanship had already reached a level that could defeat the vast majority of his peers.
Even in the original story, when his Hawk Team got demolished by Killer Bee — that was a matter of age and experience, not ceiling. Put them at the same age and Sasuke would've had Bee pinned to the ground.
Her back touched something solid. Sakura had been pressed all the way to the tree line at the edge of the clearing.
Sasuke's mouth curved slightly. His blade flashed toward her shoulder — just above it.
And then, finally, Sakura moved.
A pale hand shot out and seized his sword wrist in an iron grip.
No hesitation. Sasuke's free hand was already moving, pulling a kunai from behind her hip and driving it upward —
Sakura twisted at the waist, bent low, and let it slide past. Her foot snaked out and hooked his ankle.
Sasuke's expression tightened immediately. He knew what she could do with that grip. On reflex he lifted his foot to break the lock —
— and Sakura smiled.
She'd been counting on that. Without pausing, her leg swung straight to his other ankle.
Sasuke saw it coming. He even had time to register the resigned inevitability of it.
Her foot caught him. A light, precise trip — and he went down hard, hitting the snow-covered ground with a graceless thump.
In the same motion, she flicked two fingers against the wrist of the hand that had grabbed the kunai. Sasuke's entire arm went numb instantly; the kunai tumbled from fingers he could no longer feel.
Sakura plucked it out of the air.
Sasuke was already moving to get back up — and found her own kunai, the one he'd palmed from her pouch, hovering an inch from his face.
"Sorry." Sakura raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at her lips. "I win."
The dark-haired boy sat in the snow, his expression somewhere between exasperated and resigned.
"I lost," he said quietly.
Sakura pocketed the kunai and held out a hand.
Sasuke looked at it for a moment, then — the faintest trace of a smile at his mouth — reached up and took it.
She pulled him to his feet. Some of the frustration she'd carried out of Jiraiya's tent had burned off. She clapped him on the shoulder.
"You're really strong, Sasuke."
"I'm guessing even Rock Lee might not be able to beat you now. Or — maybe fifty-fifty?"
Rock Lee?
The image surfaced: that green-clad bowl-cut kid who'd tried to confess to Sakura the very first time they met.
So that guy ranked that high in her estimation.
Sasuke's expression cooled by a degree.
"Is that Lee Rock supposed to be good?" he asked, keeping his tone casual.
"Honestly? Very."
Sakura nodded without hesitation.
"Before you learned the White Fang's sword style from Kakashi — even with Chidori, you wouldn't have been able to beat him."
"But what about me now?"
Sasuke asked before he'd quite thought about it.
Sakura tilted her head and thought it over for a moment.
"Forty-sixty," she said.
"His sixty."
The dark-haired boy pressed his lips together and tightened his grip on his blade.
A brief silence.
"Understood."
(Chapter End)
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