Naruto: My Progress in Konoha.

Clang!

Clang, clang, clang!

Sparks scattered like fireflies.

Uchiha Haruki parried several strikes in quick succession, deflecting Nishimura Ishihei's aggressive flurry of attacks with clean, precise sword movements.

Then—before Ishihei could launch his next move—Haruki suddenly shifted tactics and lunged forward, his blade thrusting straight toward a vital point.

From defense to offense in an instant—forcing Ishihei to fall back.

He felt the chill of cold steel nearing his throat.

Not daring to take the slightest risk, Ishihei quickly twisted his kunai to deflect Haruki's blade.

Steel met steel.

The sharp friction let out a screeching hiss.

As the two closed the distance, Ishihei's eyes flickered with a cold light.

He twisted his body just slightly, avoiding the tip of Haruki's sword. In one smooth motion, his kunai slid forward—aiming directly for Haruki's neck.

Ishihei's larger build gave him the reach advantage, offering this rare opening.

But Haruki showed no signs of panic.

His foot lightly touched the ground—and in the next instant, he darted two steps back, cleanly evading the strike.

Before Ishihei could adjust his stance or launch another follow-up, Haruki slammed one foot down and launched forward like a drawn arrow, reappearing in front of his opponent in a blur.

His short sword swept horizontally, slicing toward Ishihei's waist.

Smaller size had its perks—namely, agility.

Haruki used it to the fullest.

He dodged and countered in seamless rhythm.

Ishihei, caught mid-motion, was half a beat too slow. He barely raised his kunai in time to block the blow.

And as the saying goes—one step late, every step falls behind.

Haruki didn't hesitate.

As soon as his blade was parried, he pulled back and launched another swift thrust, this time angled upward—targeting Ishihei's carotid artery.

Clang!

A crisp metallic sound rang out.

Ishihei managed to block again.

But Haruki pressed on.

A third strike followed—this time, aimed right at the heart.

That was Haruki's sword style: fast, precise, and ruthless.

Every move was calculated to strike a vital point.

Though Ishihei had decent combat experience and reflexes, the intensity of Haruki's assault was beginning to overwhelm him.

He managed to deflect the blade again—but doing so came at a cost.

He'd completely lost the initiative.

From then on, Haruki fully exploited the advantages of Leaf-Style Swordsmanship.

Wave after wave of relentless attacks left Ishihei no choice but to defend passively.

Time passed, second by second.

And the longer the duel dragged on, the more desperate Ishihei's defense became.

Sweat soaked through his uniform. His movements grew more frantic.

Still, he might've been able to survive if that was all.

But there was a bigger problem—

He could tell.

Haruki wasn't even fighting seriously.

It was just a feeling at first, but the more they exchanged blows, the more certain he became.

Haruki was using him for sword practice.

That realization terrified him.

Because it meant Haruki could end the fight—and his life—at any moment.

And that helpless, looming sense of doom… was unbearable.

What now?

His thoughts were in chaos. His sword arm grew more frantic and erratic.

And when panic set in, mistakes were bound to follow.

Mistakes meant openings.

Haruki's eyes gleamed.

He thrust his short sword forward once again.

A chilling aura surged toward Ishihei. He snapped out of his daze—only to see the blade streaking toward his chest.

Too late to block.

In desperation, he twisted his body to the side, narrowly avoiding a fatal stab to the heart.

But Haruki was already a step ahead—

The blade adjusted in mid-swing, and although it missed the heart, it carved a deep gash across Ishihei's side, instantly soaking his uniform in blood.

It wasn't over.

Even before the strike landed, Haruki had already started the follow-up—

He ripped the sword horizontally, trying to widen the wound.

His blade tore into flesh.

But Haruki's expression remained unchanged.

Because…

It missed.

He blinked—and a puff of chakra smoke dispersed in front of him.

Where Ishihei had stood, only a humanoid slab of stone remained.

A deep cut across its surface marked where Haruki's blade had struck.

"Earth-Style Substitution…" Haruki muttered.

That's right—

At the last possible second, Ishihei had performed the Earth Release: Substitution Technique, barely escaping with his life.

Looking back, it must've started when Ishihei twisted his body to dodge the earlier thrust.

Without that delay, there wouldn't have been enough time.

"Tch… if only I had the Sharingan…" Haruki thought grimly.

Had he activated his Sharingan earlier, Ishihei's hand seals wouldn't have slipped past his perception.

With the Sharingan, the substitution would've failed—and the enemy would've died by his sword long ago.

Then again…

If he'd used the Sharingan from the start, Ishihei probably wouldn't have lasted this long in the first place.

Haruki snapped back to the present and looked ahead.

There—

Ishihei stood several meters away, clutching his wounded side, eyes fixed on Haruki with fear and tension, as though bracing for the next assault.

And he was right to fear.

Once Haruki chose to strike, he wouldn't stop halfway.

He reached for his tool pouch—

Several shuriken appeared in his palm.

With no visible effort, Haruki flicked them forward.

Ishihei had been watching Haruki closely and reacted the instant he moved.

He thought he could dodge easily.

After all—Haruki was young.

He might be a sword prodigy, sure, but nobody could be good at everything. Right?

Wrong.

If Ishihei had known…

Haruki's "Ninja Tool Throwing" skill had already reached Level 4, even higher than his swordsmanship.

The thrown shuriken came in fast and tight.

Ishihei dodged, but clumsily.

That was all Haruki needed.

He activated Body Flicker Technique, vanishing from view.

The next moment, he reappeared right in front of Ishihei.

Sword in hand.

Mid-swing.

Forced into a close-quarters duel, Ishihei had no time to cast any more ninjutsu.

His only option was to try and block with brute strength.

But his bleeding wound…

The pressure…

The sheer momentum behind Haruki's attack…

He only lasted a few minutes longer.

Haruki saw the opening.

He drove his sword straight through Ishihei's chest—piercing the heart.

Pain exploded through his body.

Ishihei froze.

His kunai slipped from his fingers.

He glanced down at the blade in his chest… then up at Haruki's blank expression.

In his dying gaze, there was… regret.

Maybe he never should've targeted Haruki in the first place.

Or maybe—his death had been sealed from the very beginning.

A memory surfaced—the image of Haruki's calm, emotionless eyes, unshaken even when threatened.

"He really was born to be a shinobi…"

That was Nishimura Ishihei's final thought—

Before his eyes slowly closed… forever.

Shk!

Haruki casually pulled the sword free.

The body collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.

He had seen the look in Ishihei's eyes before death.

But he didn't believe he was born to be a shinobi.

He didn't fear the man because he didn't need to.

Haruki had the strength to kill him at any time.

And when faced with an enemy you can end with a single blow—what's there to fear?

That's the best way to conquer fear: become strong enough that you never have to feel it.

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