Naruto: One Eye Tenseigan

The village streets buzzed with life, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the cobblestones. Voices intermingled with the rustle of leaves in the breeze, creating a symphony of everyday activity. Vendors called out their wares, children laughed as they darted through narrow alleyways, and shinobi moved with purpose, their headbands gleaming in the light.

Tomaru Minakura moved slightly ahead of his teammates, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. His gaze scanned the familiar streets, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The announcement of Team 2 had been no surprise, yet their assigned jonin-sensei was another matter entirely.

Sayuri Koizumi.

The name lingered in his mind, sharp and incomplete. It wasn't just her striking presence or the command she exuded with every measured word—it was the weight of mystery surrounding her.

Behind him, Mai Kisaragi let out an exaggerated sigh, breaking the silence. "Alright, Tomaru, spill it. How are you not freaking out about our jonin-sensei? She's intense. Like, judging-my-every-move-with-one-look intense."

Tomaru glanced over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, I'm freaking out," he said lightly. "I'm just better at hiding it."

Mai quickened her pace, falling into step beside him. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Tomaru's smirk widened. "I've been told."

Mina Harada trailed slightly behind them, her expression thoughtful. Adjusting her glasses, she added, "She's right, though. Sayuri-sensei's presence is… commanding. She doesn't need to say much—it's like she already knows what we're thinking."

Tomaru chuckled. "Maybe she does. You think she has some secret mind-reading jutsu?"

Mai groaned but laughed despite herself. "Great. Now I'm going to be paranoid during the test. Thanks, Tomaru."

"Relax," Tomaru said, waving a hand dismissively. "We've got this. Besides, you've got me on your team—how bad could it be?"

Mai raised an eyebrow, her smirk playful. "Careful. That confidence might get you in trouble."

"Trouble's where the fun is," Tomaru replied with an easy shrug.

As they walked, the lively streets of Konoha began to shift. The bustling market gave way to quieter roads lined with tall trees and training fields. The chatter and footsteps of villagers faded, replaced by the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds.

Mai filled the quiet with her usual energy, pointing out small details—a sparrow hopping along a fence, the enticing smell of fresh-baked sweet buns wafting from a nearby bakery. Her chatter was lighthearted, but Tomaru noticed the occasional pause in her words, the way her eyes flicked between him and Mina, as if testing the waters of their new dynamic.

Mina, ever observant, walked in measured steps, her sharp eyes flitting between her surroundings and her teammates. She noticed the way Mai's boldness sometimes wavered, the quick glances she cast for reassurance.

Tomaru, meanwhile, exuded a relaxed confidence that seemed effortless. His teasing remarks kept the mood light, but Mina could see the subtle shifts in his expression—the way his sharp gaze lingered on details others might overlook.

The streets narrowed as they approached Training Ground 7, the sunlight filtering through the canopy above in dappled patterns. The air was cooler here, carrying the faint scent of earth and water.

Tomaru's thoughts drifted back to the woman who had appeared in their classroom.

When Sayuri had walked in, her presence had been undeniable—graceful, commanding, and utterly captivating. Yet it wasn't just her beauty or confidence that lingered in Tomaru's mind.

It was the way her eyes had settled on him.

The glance was fleeting, subtle enough that Mai and Mina might not have noticed. But to Tomaru, it felt deliberate. There was a flicker of something in her gaze, an unspoken familiarity that made his skin prickle.

Does she know me?

It seemed impossible. He would have remembered someone like her. Yet that fleeting moment carried a weight he couldn't ignore, like the echo of a memory just out of reach.

The name Sayuri Koizumi had been familiar to Tomaru long before her arrival, though not from personal memory. He had seen it etched in a hidden corner of Konoha's records during a fleeting moment with his Tenseigan—a name surrounded by shadows and sparse details, standing out among countless files he'd scanned.

The Hokage's secret files were vast, filled with the lives and deeds of shinobi who shaped the village's history.

Among them, Sayuri Koizumi's record stood out—not for its content, but for its stark emptiness.

Her mission count was staggering, almost inhuman in scope:

3 D-rank missions—barely worth noting.

11 C-rank missions—typical for a young chunin.

381 B-rank missions—challenging but achievable for an experienced jonin.

521 A-rank missions—an extraordinary number for any shinobi.

101 S-rank missions—the kind of figure that belonged to legends.

Tomaru had stopped on that number, his breath catching slightly.

101 S-rank missions.

It wasn't just extraordinary; it was almost incomprehensible. Even Tsunade, one of the Sannin, had completed "only" 95 S-rank missions in her illustrious career. Sayuri's count ranked her just behind Jiraiya (138) and Orochimaru (108), yet her name didn't carry the same weight of fame—or infamy.

But beyond the numbers, there was nothing. No personal details. No evaluations. No descriptions of her techniques or leadership style.

Even the Hokage's archives, which typically included everything from birth records to career trajectories, were conspicuously empty when it came to Sayuri.

How does someone like her remain so unknown?

The sheer scale of her accomplishments didn't just mark her as skilled—it marked her as someone extraordinary, someone who had operated in places most shinobi never dared tread.

And now, here she was, assigned to lead Team 2.

Why take this role? he wondered.

Mai exhaled loudly, breaking the silence again. "Okay, but seriously—what do you think she's going to make us do? Some crazy test? Or just a boring lecture about teamwork?"

"Probably something unexpected," Mina murmured. "She doesn't seem like the type to follow tradition."

Tomaru glanced at his teammates. They were different, these two—a loud and confident taijutsu specialist, and a quiet, methodical thinker. The balance intrigued him, but he knew their true potential would only show under pressure.

"We'll know soon enough," he said simply.

From the tree line, she emerged.

Sayuri Koizumi moved with the same deliberate grace she had displayed earlier, her auburn hair catching the light as it swayed with her movements. Her green eyes, calm yet commanding, scanned the clearing before settling on them.

The trio slowed as they approached, the weight of her presence immediately pressing on them.

"You're late," she said simply, her voice calm but sharp enough to cut through the silence.

Mai sputtered. "But we're—"

"Quiet," Sayuri interrupted, her piercing green eyes flicking to Mai. The younger kunoichi clamped her mouth shut, her confidence momentarily faltering.

Sayuri's gaze shifted to Mina, who flinched slightly, and then to Tomaru.

Tomaru, however, grinned. "Better late than never, right?"

Sayuri's brow arched slightly, a flicker of amusement flashing in her eyes before disappearing. "We'll see if you can back that up."

Her eyes lingered on Tomaru for a moment longer than the others, and he felt a faint prickle of unease. There was something familiar in that gaze, though he couldn't place it.

"Introductions can wait," Sayuri continued. "Training Ground 7 isn't a place for small talk. Prove to me you're worth the effort."

The clearing at Training Ground 7 was bathed in late afternoon light, the shifting shadows of the surrounding forest adding an air of tension. Tomaru, Mai, and Mina stood side by side, their gazes fixed on Sayuri Koizumi, who stood a few paces away, her presence calm yet commanding.

In one hand, she held a pair of small, silver bells. The faint jingle as she moved them sent an unspoken message: these were the prize.

Sayuri's green eyes swept over her team, measuring them. "Your task is simple," she began, her voice even but with an undercurrent of challenge. "Steal these bells from me. You have until sundown."

Mai smirked, cracking her knuckles. "Easy enough. Let's get started!"

Sayuri's lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn't reach her eyes. "You may think it's easy now. But know this: anyone who fails to get a bell will be sent back to the Academy."

The weight of her words silenced Mai's enthusiasm. Mina adjusted her glasses nervously, her sharp eyes darting toward Tomaru, who remained calm but watchful.

Sayuri placed the bells on a thin chain around her waist. "You may begin… now."

Mai was the first to move, dashing forward with swift confidence. Her taijutsu training propelled her across the clearing, her fists aiming for Sayuri's midsection in a series of rapid strikes.

Sayuri didn't move to block. Instead, her form blurred, a sudden burst of speed carrying her out of Mai's reach.

"Too slow," Sayuri said lightly, her tone almost mocking.

Mai growled, adjusting her stance and launching a spinning kick. Again, Sayuri evaded with ease, her movements so fluid they seemed effortless.

While Mai continued her relentless assault, Tomaru observed every movement Sayuri made. Her evasion wasn't random—it was calculated. She shifted just enough to avoid each strike, her footing steady, her balance perfect.

When Mai overextended during a punch, Sayuri finally struck. A single, precise tap to Mai's shoulder sent her sprawling to the ground.

"Overconfidence won't help you," Sayuri said, her tone as sharp as the blow.

Mai glared up at her, frustration flickering in her amber eyes. "You could've dodged that forever!"

Sayuri tilted her head slightly. "Perhaps. But I wanted you to feel the difference between us."

"She's toying with her," Mina murmured.

Tomaru nodded. "She's testing us."

"Then why aren't you moving?" Mina asked, her tone sharper than intended.

Tomaru's gaze remained fixed on Sayuri. "Because charging in blindly won't work. We need to figure her out first."

While Mai continued her relentless assault, Tomaru observed every movement Sayuri made. Her evasion wasn't random—it was calculated. She shifted just enough to avoid each strike, her footing steady, her balance perfect.

When Mai overextended during a punch, Sayuri finally struck. A single, precise tap to Mai's shoulder sent her sprawling to the ground.

Sayuri stood at the center of the field, her posture relaxed and composed, as if the bells dangling from her waist were more decoration than a challenge. Her green eyes were calm, assessing, yet there was a glimmer of something deeper—anticipation, perhaps.

Across from her, Tomaru Minakura took a steady breath. The gentle tension in his muscles told him everything he needed to know—his body, his mind, and his soul were finally one.

Every movement felt natural now. His stamina, heightened awareness, and strength all seemed to operate on an entirely new level, as if his body had unlocked hidden potential it didn't even know it had.

Tomaru tightened his fists, his breathing measured. He knew the odds were stacked against him. Sayuri wasn't just a jonin—she was a veteran of countless battles, her skill and experience leagues beyond his own. But that didn't matter.

This was a test, and he wasn't here to win.

He was here to learn.

How far was the gap between them?

A faint smirk crossed Tomaru's lips as he shifted his weight, his stance loose but balanced. The fire of determination burned in his chest, unyielding and bright.

"You said this is a test," Tomaru said, his voice calm but firm. 

"Then let's see what I'm capable of," he said quietly, his voice calm but carrying an edge of anticipation.

Sayuri's sharp green eyes narrowed slightly, catching the determination burning in his gaze. A flicker of intrigue danced across her face, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

"Bold words," she said evenly, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Let's see if you can live up to them."

Tomaru moved first, launching himself forward with a burst of momentum that sent a faint ripple through the grass beneath his feet. His initial stride covered an impressive distance, his form a blur of motion that left the faint rustle of displaced air in his wake. To the untrained eye, it might have appeared as though he teleported, but to Sayuri, it was a disciplined application of refined footwork.

His first strike—a straight punch aimed at her midsection—was sharp, precise, and carried impressive force.

Sayuri sidestepped, her movement so fluid it was as if she had anticipated the attack before it even began. Tomaru's fist brushed past her jacket, the force rustling the fabric.

Quick, she noted silently, her sharp eyes watching his footwork. impressive for someone fresh out of the Academy.

Tomaru pivoted, transitioning into a low sweep aimed at her legs. Sayuri hopped back, the heel of her boot skimming the dirt before she launched forward with a sharp strike. Tomaru twisted, narrowly avoiding the blow, and countered with an upward kick that forced Sayuri to step back.

The rhythm of the fight quickened, each movement seamless as Tomaru pressed his attack. His punches came faster now, sharper, each strike carrying the precision of countless hours of training. Sayuri deflected with ease, her hands a blur as they redirected his force.

Their boots scuffed against the ground, the faint chime of the bells on Sayuri's waist cutting through the sound of their clashing blows.

Tomaru spun low, sweeping toward her again. Sayuri raised her leg just enough to avoid the attack, her balance unwavering. Tomaru used the momentum to spring up, his elbow arcing toward her head. Sayuri leaned back, the tip of his sleeve brushing her jawline as the attack passed.

She stepped in, her palm striking toward his chest. Tomaru dropped his arms just in time to block, but the force sent him skidding back several feet.

"You're fast," Sayuri said, her voice calm. "But speed alone won't help you."

Mai Kisaragi and Mina Harada stood at the edge of the clearing, their eyes fixed on the match.

"He's fast," Mai said, her voice low but tinged with disbelief. "Way faster than I thought he was."

Mina adjusted her glasses, her focus unwavering. "It's not just speed. Look at how he's reacting. He's not guessing—he's watching her."

Mai folded her arms tightly across her chest. "Still, look at him! I couldn't keep up with her for two seconds, but he's actually making her move!"

Mina nodded slightly. "For now."