Naruto: Beyond The Dreamscape

"He's good."

"Yes."

"His foundation is solid."

"I know."

They stood at the edge of the training field, half-hidden behind the tall fence that bordered the grounds. Mayumi and Takaro-sensei watched in silence as Uchiha Yuko sparred with two older boys. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting shifting shadows across the field, but nothing obscured the clarity of Yuko's movements.

Each step was measured. Each strike flowed into the next with mechanical precision. There was no wasted motion, no hesitation—only clean, efficient violence.

Takaro-sensei's gaze sharpened,arms folded over his chest.Beside him, Mayumi held her breath, lips pressed into a thin line.

Can I really beat him?

Her chest tightened at the thought. The clan had already scheduled their match for next week. A formal duel. Her father had mentioned it this morning—calm, yet unmistakably stern.

"Next week, you'll be fighting Yuko. Don't embarrass me."

The pressure hadn't left her since.

Yuko was no ordinary opponent. He was the grandson of a clan elder—groomed from birth with rigorous training and high expectations. Now nine years old, the same age as Madara-nii-san, he had already earned a reputation among the Uchiha.

Some whispered he was second only to Madara in potential.

Especially in Taijutsu and Kenjutsu.

Now, as Mayumi watched, she could see why.

He weaved through the attacks of his sparring partners effortlessly. His footwork flowed like water, yet every step struck with lethal intent. He parried one strike with the flat of his blade, ducked under another, then countered with a sharp elbow to the ribs—his wooden sword stopping just short of the other boy's neck.

A perfect kill.

His movements were smooth and precise, his balance perfect.

"His kenjutsu…" Mayumi murmured.

Takaro-sensei nodded. "Sharp. Uchiha kenjutsu isn't meant to impress. It's meant to kill quickly. He understands that."

Even at his young age, Yuko moved with precision that made her stomach tighten.

Every slash was meant to end the fight. There were no wasted movements, no flashy spins. Only speed, accuracy, and pressure.

He didn't fight like a child. He fought like a shinobi.

He's strong. No… he's dangerous.

Another charge. Another evasion. With a flick of the wrist, He sidestepped the attack, struck the boy's wrist, disarming him in a blink, driving his elbow into the other's ribs. The boy crumpled with a gasp, collapsing into the dust.

The boy wheezed on the ground, clutching his ribs.

Mayumi's heartbeat quickened. She could already feel next week looming ahead of her like a storm cloud.

The match ended. Yuko stepped back, he lowered his weapon and turned slightly, his dark eyes sweeping across the onlookers. Just for a moment, they landed on her.

Mayumi met his gaze.

She didn't look away.

His expression didn't change.

But she felt the weight of it.

"He's strong," she whispered.

Takaro didn't disagree. "Stronger than you. More experienced. And his control is exceptional."

Mayumi nodded slowly, eyes still on Yuko.

"You'll need to change the way you fight."

"How?"

"You'll lose if you try to match him directly," he said. "Don't play his game. Use your speed. Stay unpredictable. Make him come to you—then strike."

His voice was steady, but Mayumi could hear the warning behind it.

"Is there any chance I can win?" Mayumi asked quietly, her gaze fixed on the training ground.

Takaro-sensei didn't respond immediately. He stood beside her, arms crossed, his eyes narrowed in silent assessment. Then, with a low grunt, he finally spoke.

"Hmph. Don't take this the wrong way, little girl… but my advice is to prepare yourself to lose. Gracefully."

Mayumi blinked, stunned.

Seriously?

She narrowed her eyes and looked away, hiding the scowl tugging at her lips.

Did he have to say it like that?

Her fists clenched at her sides. Gracefully? Did he really just say that—to her face?That blunt honesty—delivered in his usual flat, dismissive tone—stabbed more than any kunai.

She rolled her eyes, frustration curling in her chest. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sensei… next time, maybe add a little sugar to the poison.

It wasn't even that he thought she might lose.

It was that he seemed so sure of it.

How irritating…

So that's what everyone thinks, huh?

That Yuko would win.

That she was just some tiny girl who'd only trained for three months—barely old enough to even hold a proper stance, let alone face off against the clan elder's prodigy.

And maybe… maybe they weren't wrong.

Yuko was strong.

She had seen it herself—how effortlessly he moved, how his strikes landed clean and fast, every motion refined through years of training. He was the grandson of a clan elder, groomed for greatness since the moment he could hold a blade.

More importantly… he was older.

He was nine years old.

The same age as Madara-nii-san.

And her?

She was barely five.

Three months into her training.

That wasn't even enough time to build proper stamina, much less master kenjutsu.

Just a little girl with scraped knees and callused hands, trying to catch up to people with a head start of years.

She felt small.

Really small.

Compared to Yuko, she was an amateur—a child playing shinobi while the real warriors sharpened their blades.

But even in the swirl of doubt, a quiet flame still burned in her chest.

But even so, she refused to back down.

Yes, she lacked experience.

Yes, she had less time, fewer resources, and a smaller frame.

But none of that made her weak.

It just meant she was not there yet.

And someday, she would be.

They all think the result is a foregone conclusion.

She could hear it in the whispers, feel it in the way people glanced at her with pity or mild amusement. As if the match was already decided. As if she'd be lucky to land even a single blow.

Let them think that.

Let them believe it'll be easy.

Let them underestimate her.

She wasn't here because she wanted praise.

She was here because she refused to stay behind.

She was here because she made a promise—to protect. To stand. To keep going even when it hurts.

So, when the time came, she would fight with everything she had. With every ounce of fire in her body and every lesson Takaro-sensei had beaten into her bones.

She would show them this wouldn't be a one-sided defeat.

And she would show him—Uchiha Yuko—that he couldn't take victory for granted.

Victory wouldn't come easily to him.

Even if she lose, he'll remember this match.

She drew a slow breath, letting the fire settle into resolve. Her small hands clenched at her sides.

Just wait and see.

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