Naruto: One Eye Tenseigan

The crisp morning air carried a sense of excitement as the students gathered at the Academy's training grounds. Today wasn't just another day of drills and lectures; it was a day Iruka had promised would be different—a day to showcase their growth. 

Iruka stood before the gathered students, clipboard in hand, his usual warm smile tempered by the air of seriousness around him. "Today," he began, "we'll be conducting mock duels. These matches will test not just your strength but your ability to adapt under pressure. Remember, a true shinobi knows when to fight and when to strategize." 

Naruto immediately shot up, his fist raised. "Yes! This is my chance to show everyone what I've got!" 

Sasuke smirked from his spot under the tree, his arms crossed. "Try not to embarrass yourself too much, dobe." 

Naruto bristled, but before he could retort, Iruka's voice cut through. "Settle down! The matchups will be decided randomly." 

The students buzzed with nervous energy as Iruka began calling out names. "First match: Shikamaru vs. Choji." 

The two friends exchanged glances, Shikamaru sighing heavily. "What a drag…" 

"Next: Naruto vs. Kiba." 

"Bring it on, dog-boy!" Naruto declared, his eyes gleaming with excitement. 

Kiba grinned, cracking his knuckles. "You're going down, loudmouth." 

Iruka continued, his voice calm. "And finally, Tomaru vs. Sasuke." 

The training ground fell silent for a moment. All eyes turned to Tomaru, who blinked in surprise. 

Sasuke's smirk widened, his dark eyes narrowing as he stood. "This should be interesting." 

Tomaru met his gaze, a calm determination settling over him. "I guess we'll find out." 

As the matches began, the crowd of students grew increasingly animated, cheering and shouting advice to their friends in the ring. Shikamaru managed to outmaneuver Choji with a clever use of his shadow possession technique, while Naruto's chaotic energy kept Kiba on his toes. 

Tomaru, however, watched the matches with quiet focus. He analyzed every movement, every strategy, storing the information for when it would be his turn. 

"You're not nervous?" Ino asked, leaning against a nearby tree. 

Tomaru shook his head. "A little. But I've learned that staying calm is half the battle." 

Ino smiled, her eyes lingering on him for a moment. "Good luck out there." 

The energy shifted as Iruka called out the final match.

"Next up: Tomaru Minakura vs. Sasuke Uchiha."

The crowd grew quiet, the air thick with anticipation. Even Naruto, still basking in his victory, fell silent as he turned to watch.

Tomaru stepped into the ring calmly, his movements smooth and deliberate. Across from him, Sasuke stood with his usual confidence, his smirk betraying a flicker of genuine interest.

"Let's see what you've got," Sasuke said, his voice low but sharp.

Tomaru met his gaze evenly. "I plan to."

Iruka raised his hand. "Begin!"

Sasuke moved first, closing the distance with startling speed. His punch cut through the air toward Tomaru's face.

Tomaru shifted to the side, dodging the strike by a hair's breadth. His movements were fluid, almost effortless, as he deflected Sasuke's follow-up kick with a forearm block.

The exchange continued, fast and precise. Sasuke's strikes were sharp and relentless, each one calculated to probe for weaknesses. But Tomaru's defense was unshakable, his reactions almost preemptive.

Despite the intensity of the fight, there was no hostility in the air. The usual tension that accompanied Sasuke's matches—the almost suffocating weight of his need to dominate—was absent.

Sasuke's strikes, though powerful, lacked their usual edge. His frustration, which often bubbled over when his opponent proved difficult, never surfaced.

Even Sasuke seemed vaguely aware of the difference. His smirk faded slightly, replaced by a focused expression as he adjusted his stance.

For Tomaru, the match felt like a dance. His movements flowed seamlessly, his mind clear and calm. But deep down, he couldn't help but feel puzzled by Sasuke's restraint.

Why isn't he pushing harder?

Naruto's voice broke the silence. "Come on, Tomaru! Show him who's boss!"

Ino leaned over to Shikamaru. "They're both so composed. It's almost… weird, isn't it?"

Shikamaru didn't respond.

As the fight continued, Tomaru found himself locked in a stalemate with Sasuke. Neither could land a decisive blow, their movements countering each other perfectly.

Iruka finally stepped forward, raising his hand. "That's enough! This match is a draw."

Sasuke lowered his fists, his expression unreadable. "You're better than I thought," he said simply before turning and walking off.

Tomaru nodded, but his thoughts churned. Why did it feel like he wasn't fighting at full strength?

The matches ended, and the students began to disperse.

Tomaru stayed behind, his gaze fixed on the spot where he and Sasuke had fought.

—

As the fight continued, Sasuke found himself matching Tomaru's pace. His strikes were sharp and precise, his counters fluid. But something felt… different.

Usually, frustration would bubble beneath the surface whenever an opponent blocked his attacks. The irritation would push him harder, faster, until he forced a mistake and seized control of the fight.

But now?

Sasuke frowned slightly as he adjusted his stance. There was no frustration, no anger—just focus. His mind was clear, his movements calculated, almost as if they were being guided by an unseen force.

Why am I not annoyed? he thought, glancing at Tomaru briefly. He's matching my moves, yet I feel… calm.

The crowd of students faded into the background as Sasuke focused entirely on Tomaru. His smirk, so often a mask for his emotions, disappeared.

"You're better than I expected," Sasuke said quietly as they exchanged a rapid flurry of strikes.

Tomaru met his gaze briefly but said nothing, his calm demeanor unshaken.

After several minutes of back-and-forth, Sasuke stepped back, his breathing steady. His dark eyes remained fixed on Tomaru, studying him carefully.

The fight wasn't just even—it was balanced, almost unnaturally so. And yet, Sasuke couldn't summon the frustration he would usually feel in such a situation.

Why do I feel like this? he thought.

From the sidelines, Shikamaru observed quietly, his sharp gaze flicking between the two fighters.

Iruka stepped forward, raising his hand. "That's enough! This match is a draw."

Sasuke lowered his weapon, his gaze still locked on Tomaru.

"You're different," he said as they walked back to the sidelines. His voice was low, almost a murmur, as if speaking more to himself than to Tomaru. "And it's not just your skill."

Tomaru glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "What do you mean?"

Sasuke shook his head slightly, a flicker of irritation returning. "Never mind."

But as he sat under the tree, his arms crossed and his gaze distant, Sasuke's thoughts churned. Something happened in that fight. It wasn't normal. Was it me? Or was it him?

—

The days after the group assignment returned to their usual rhythm, and so, it seemed, did Naruto.

Tomaru stood at a distance in the Academy courtyard, leaning casually against a tree. His sharp gaze followed Naruto as he darted around, loudly challenging Kiba to a sparring match.

It was the Naruto he had always known—chaotic, loud, and brimming with uncontainable energy.

Tomaru folded his arms, his brow furrowing slightly. What happened that day?

During their previous group assignment, Naruto had been the picture of calm focus, contributing thoughtful ideas and working harmoniously with the team. Yet now, as Tomaru watched him clumsily trip over his own feet while chasing Kiba, it was hard to reconcile the two versions of him.

Was it a fluke? A rare moment of clarity?

A few days later, Iruka assigned the class a similar group exercise. Tomaru found himself once again paired with Sakura, Shikamaru, and Naruto.

They gathered at the same table in the back of the classroom, the familiar map of a hypothetical village spread before them. Tomaru sat silently at the edge of the group, his calm presence almost blending into the background.

Naruto surprised him yet again.

"Okay," Naruto said, leaning over the map. "Last time, we didn't set up enough early warning systems. If the enemy attacks at night, we'll need sentries posted here and here." He tapped two points on the map with his pencil.

Sakura paused, looking at Naruto with faint surprise before nodding. "Good idea."

Shikamaru, as usual, remained quiet, but he glanced at Naruto with a faintly raised brow, his expression unreadable.

Tomaru watched silently, his confusion growing. Once again, Naruto's usual boisterousness had vanished, replaced by a calm, logical demeanor.

Tomaru finally spoke, his tone neutral. "Good observation."

Naruto grinned at the rare compliment. "See? I'm not just about good looks!"

Tomaru ignored the joke, glancing briefly at Shikamaru. The other boy's eyes flicked toward him, but neither said a word.

Why does this keep happening? Tomaru thought.

—

The Academy classroom hummed with energy, students moving between desks as Iruka stepped out to handle something urgent. With no teacher to rein them in, the noise level climbed steadily, laughter and arguments mixing into a chaotic buzz.

Tomaru entered quietly, his movements deliberate as he navigated the bustling room. His gaze swept over the clusters of students—some huddled in conversation, others arguing over trivial matters. But near the front, the charged atmosphere drew his attention.

Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha stood face-to-face, their voices sharp and cutting.

Naruto's fists were clenched, his voice rising with frustration. "You think you're better than everyone, don't you, Sasuke? You're nothing special!"

Sasuke's smirk widened, his tone calm but edged with mockery. "Is that so, dobe? You're all talk, as usual. Why don't you try proving it for once?"

The taunt hit its mark. Naruto's body tensed, his knuckles whitening as he stepped closer. "Oh, I'll prove it, all right!"

The room seemed to hold its breath as Naruto lunged. His punch was wild, fueled by raw emotion rather than strategy. Sasuke dodged effortlessly, stepping aside with the fluidity of a predator toying with its prey.

"Too slow," Sasuke said, his voice dripping with disdain. He countered with a sharp jab aimed at Naruto's shoulder.

Naruto barely managed to block it, their strikes quickening as the fight escalated. Desks scraped against the floor, and a few students backed away, unsure whether to intervene or simply watch.

"Should we stop them?" one voice murmured from the sidelines.

"Nah, let them fight," another replied. "They're always like this."

The tension in the air was palpable, like the charge before a lightning strike.

Tomaru observed the scene briefly before continuing toward his seat near the back of the room. He had no intention of interfering—this was just another clash between Naruto and Sasuke, fueled by their endless rivalry.

As he approached the edge of the commotion, the din of the room seemed to fade slightly. His steps were unhurried, his expression calm as he passed within a few paces of the fight.

He reached his seat, pulled out his chair, and sat down.

And then, as if a switch had been flipped, the room fell silent.

Naruto's fist froze mid-swing, the momentum of his charge dissipating in an instant. His chest heaved, his breath loud in the stillness.

Sasuke, poised to counter, hesitated. The sharpness in his gaze softened, his smirk fading into something neutral, almost contemplative. Slowly, he stepped back, lowering his guard.

The air felt… lighter.

Tomaru's eyes narrowed slightly, his fingers resting against the edge of his desk. What just happened?

Around the room, a few students exchanged confused glances.

"Why'd they stop?" someone whispered, the question breaking the quiet.

Naruto stepped back as well, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh… yeah, whatever," he muttered, his voice lacking its usual fire. "You're not worth my time today, Sasuke."

Sasuke scoffed but made no move to continue the fight. "Hn. You're not even worth the effort."

The tension dissolved completely as they turned and walked away from each other, leaving behind an audience of bewildered classmates.

Tomaru leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as his gaze followed Naruto and Sasuke. His calm demeanor masked the questions spinning in his mind.

Why does this keep happening?

First, Naruto's sudden shift during the group assignment—calm, logical, even intelligent. Then, the sparring match with Sasuke, where everyone seemed to work together more fluidly. And now this: a fight that had all the makings of an explosive clash, ending as suddenly as it had begun.

Tomaru exhaled softly, his fingers tapping against the desk in a slow rhythm. It doesn't make sense. Why does everything feel… quieter when I'm here?

The thought felt absurd, and yet, it lingered.

Across the room, Shikamaru Nara leaned lazily against his desk, his arms crossed and his head tilted slightly to one side. To anyone else, he appeared uninterested, even bored.

But his half-lidded gaze followed Tomaru with quiet scrutiny.

Shikamaru had noticed the strange stillness that seemed to follow Tomaru lately. He had seen it during the group assignments, in the way Naruto worked with uncharacteristic focus. He had sensed it during the sparring sessions, where tensions eased without explanation. And now, he saw it here, in the way Naruto and Sasuke had stopped mid-fight.

He didn't speak—Shikamaru rarely did unless necessary. But in the back of his mind, the pieces were beginning to form a picture.

Something's different about him.

—

As the classroom noise returned, Tomaru sat quietly, his mind still turning. He glanced briefly at Shikamaru, catching the faintest flicker of something knowing in the boy's expression. But, as always, neither of them spoke.

Naruto was back to laughing loudly with Kiba, while Sasuke sat alone, his gaze fixed out the window. The moment of stillness had passed, leaving only questions in its wake.

Tomaru's hand clenched slightly under the desk. Coincidence, he told himself. It's just coincidence.

But no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, the nagging doubt refused to fade.