Chapter 3. 4:
.....
Within minutes, we were all on the training field. The sun was beating down hard. The air had that dry smell of dust and heat, classic of Suna mornings.
And then, without waiting for the master's signal, a boy stepped onto the central platform and pointed at me.
"Jiki Kiba! Today I'm going to prove I can beat you. I challenge you to a fight."
Zhaico Kitamura.
One of Karura's many cousins. Same surname, less charm. He always carried that mix of pride and resentment typical of those who think they're important by inheritance.
The murmuring turned into a small whirlwind of voices around us. Most had already seen me fight. They knew I wasn't easy to beat. Even if they hated me a bit, they weren't fools.
"Zhaico, I didn't authorize you to start," said the chunin firmly.
Then he turned to me.
"Kiba, do you accept?"
"Yes," I replied simply.
The sensei looked at me... I felt it. That silence that lasts a second longer than necessary. As if he expected me to say something more formal. Something solemn.
But, being blind, I had the perfect excuse to ignore those things. After all... how was I supposed to know he was looking at me?
Still, I sighed and indulged him.
"I accept Kitamura Zhaico's challenge," I said in a neutral voice, more out of respect than desire.
The teacher nodded. "Well, if both parties agree, get ready to fight."
And when he finished speaking, I was already standing on the battlefield facing Zhaico.
The air was tense.
Not because it was a big official event or because the fight would be difficult for me… nah, far from it… It was simply the vibe of the place: that awkward murmuring among classmates, the restless footsteps, the way everyone adjusted their position for a better view. Suna wasn't a village for the shy. Here, even training sessions were treated like serious business. Because they kinda were.
And there we were, at the center of the field: me, calm expression, fully focused on the fight; and Zhaico, with a face that screamed, "I'm going to destroy you in front of everyone."
Yeaa… Classic.
"All right. As I said, training sparring. Only taijutsu. No weapons. No techniques. Just basic Suna style. Understood?"
They both nodded.
Zhaico took position first. He was tense… but not out of nerves. No, his posture had that stiff energy typical of someone who at least believes they can win… or who already sees themselves victorious before it even starts. Oh he had trained, that much was obvious. You could see it in his body's balance, the way he placed his feet and distributed his weight. So in his head, he was already celebrating.
I just took a deep breath and let [Radar Sense] paint the full 360-degree picture around me. Like in every fight, my focus zeroed in on the mental map it gave me of my surroundings.
The environment drew itself out in my mind like a three-dimensional space full of subtle lines.
"Fight… begin," said the instructor with his sharp tone.
Zhaico didn't hesitate. He launched a Sand Hawk Kick, an upward spinning move meant to break my balance from below.
A basic technique… one pretty effective if executed well… which wasn't exactly the case here. Though… it wasn't bad either.
Still, too much momentum. His foot grazed the spot where I'd been half a second before.
I stepped back, barely tilting my torso. The wind from the kick brushed my hair. The rest was automatic.
I responded with a move just as basic: a Sand Push, aimed straight at the chest. It wasn't a hard hit, but it landed dead-center, right at the solar plexus…. the best spot to knock the air out of someone.
Zhaico staggered back a step.
"That all?" I said… not to provoke, but to make it clear I wasn't impressed. I knew the guy had trained well, so I expected more from him, at least in terms of applying the basics here.
But those few words, apparently, were enough to ignite him. Not like a trained shinobi, but like a kid who couldn't stand looking bad in front of others.
The second exchange was more intense. Zhaico came at me with a sequence of attacks that, on paper, was solid. Scorpion Strike, low sweep, recoil palm strike. The issue was the rhythm: way too predictable, with gaps between moves that, in a real fight… were basically an invitation to get your face smashed in.
And well… I accepted the invitation.
I countered with a fluid combo: Desert Whirlwind counterstrike, then a sweep of my own to destabilize, followed by a direct kick to the stomach. All of it, without breaking the posture of the basic style.
"Ugh!" Zhaico grunted as he dropped to one knee, panting heavily.
I could feel how his hands trembled as he tried to get back up. That trembling… that imbalance in his chakra flow. It was more than physical. He was frustrated. Angry.
Emotion overruled judgment. And then he did what many do when pride overtakes common sense.
He cheated… by forming seals.
"Fūton: Kamikaze!" he shouted, and the chakra in the air shifted instantly.
I felt the air currents whip into chaos. It was a simple wind technique, D-rank, but strong enough to apply pressure in a fight.
Tiny tornadoes formed around him and shot toward me.
But I'd already seen it coming.
Literally, from the moment he started building chakra. From the subtle change in his breathing to the way he anchored his stance before casting the jutsu. All of it was etched into my mental map.
I slid one foot sideways, lowered my torso, and one of the mini-tornadoes whizzed past overhead. I dodged the second with a clean spin. They barely grazed me.
As I stopped my spin, I landed in a crouch, one hand on the ground for balance. My tone was calm. Almost amused.
"Well… I think it's pretty obvious that wasn't taijutsu," I said, turning my face toward where the instructor stood.
Yes, my eyes still couldn't see. But even so, everyone felt the stare.
The sensei stepped forward. Silence fell.
"Fight over. Kiba wins by disqualification," he said firmly.
Zhaico lowered his head. He was panting, his chakra erratic…. like even breathing had become a chore. He hadn't just lost. He'd disgraced himself. He'd broken the rules… which in Suna wasn't necessarily a bad thing, since anything goes in a life-or-death battle…. but this wasn't that.
And worse… he'd done it in front of the whole class.
In front of the instructor.
Maybe even in front of the Kazekage, if the reports actually reached him.
I approached. Placed a hand on his shoulder. It wasn't mockery. It was… human, I guess.
"You don't need sight to know you were good. But the one who loses their head… loses the fight."
Oh yeah. Heh… I'd always wanted to say something like that. What can I say? Sometimes I let myself sound like an old manga or comic book sage.
And of course… that's exactly why most people think I'm a weird kid.
The instructor looked at us both. His expression was hard to read… but from the vibration of his full body and from his chakra, I sensed something unusual: a mix of approval… and analysis. Like he was studying me.
Maybe that brilliant line had been a bit too much?
Probably.
But hey. I'd always wanted to say something that cool, so how could I not take the chance? Sure, if I'd thought it through more carefully, I'd know that saying stuff like that is exactly why people always saw me not just as a kid acting like an adult…. but like a full-on old man. Or a geezer trapped in a small body. What they don't know is… it's not so far from the truth.
The rest of the matches continued.
Some kids who had previously wanted to challenge me… weren't so sure anymore. Some still tried… just the confident ones, those ranked high in class like Zhaico. After all, it was their shot, no matter how impossible it seemed.
Of course, they all lost.
And I don't say that proudly. It's just what happened.
None of them landed a decent hit. Literally. The second-year academy combat evaluation ended with a string of crushing defeats at the hands of the blind kid who fought as if he could see every move before it happened, with a physique most envied. That last point might have been completely in my head, but I was sure it was true. Give me a few years and I'd be Achilles or even the damn Hercules embodied in a shinobi.
Oh yea, and as expected… within days, the name "Jiki Kiba" started popping up more and more in village conversations. Much like it had during my first year, when I got the top results.
But now not just as a curiosity.
Now… as a warning.
The little Suna Academy Blind-Student… Jiki Kiba… is still the top of his class and doesn't seem to have any rivals at least among the second-years.