Naruto: Hidden Hokage

As soon as the school bell rang, signaling the end of classes, one-third of the students remained in the classroom instead of rushing out like usual.

They stayed to witness the much-anticipated duel between Yorin and Sarutobi Asuma.

This match had captured their curiosity.

Sarutobi Asuma was the son of the Hokage and a widely acknowledged prodigy. While he didn't match up to Kakashi Hatake, he was still quite popular in the class.

On the other hand, Yorin, the transfer student, was an enigma to most. Since enrolling, he had kept a low profile—neither making trouble nor standing out.

"Kakashi, who do you think will win?" Rin Nohara asked, looking at Asuma and Yorin on the field.

"I don't know," Kakashi Hatake replied flatly.

"It's obviously going to be Asuma!" Obito Uchiha interjected. "He's the son of the Hokage, after all!"

"Not necessarily," Kakashi countered. Yorin's calm demeanor suggested he might have a plan.

"Wanna bet?" Obito's eyes glimmered with mischief.

"Bet what?" Kakashi asked warily.

"If I win, you treat Rin to a meal," Obito suggested slyly.

"Why me?" Rin blinked in surprise.

"Well…" Obito stammered, his face turning red, unable to provide a clear answer.

"Fine," Kakashi said nonchalantly.

"Great!" Obito's spirits soared. Was his long-awaited one-on-one time with Rin finally within reach?

"Honestly, you two…" Rin laughed softly, shaking her head. She was used to the constant bickering between her friends. Though Obito often lost these bets, this time might be different, she thought, given Asuma's apparent advantage.

On the field, Asuma frowned. He despised being labeled as "the Hokage's son."

What did his father's greatness have to do with him?

"Remember this: I'm the one who's going to defeat you!" Asuma declared loudly.

"..." Yorin's lips twitched slightly. His secondhand embarrassment flared.

What kind of middle-school-level bravado was this?

Still, it seemed fitting for their age, as the audience buzzed with excitement.

"Bring it on!" Asuma raised his arms confidently, basking in the attention.

Yorin maintained a blank expression as he formed the Seal of Confrontation, signaling the start of their duel. Asuma did the same.

When the seals were complete, Asuma wasted no time throwing two shuriken in quick succession. The weapons streaked through the air in sharp trajectories toward Yorin's vital points.

Since this was a sparring match, only wooden ninja tools were used.

The sound of slicing air filled the arena.

Yorin responded in kind, launching two shuriken of his own.

The projectiles collided midair. Asuma's shuriken fell to the ground, but Yorin's continued their paths, undeterred.

"How is that possible?" Asuma's eyes widened in disbelief.

Just a week ago, during the Ninja Tool Throwing lesson, Yorin could barely hit a target. Now, he could intercept and surpass Asuma's strikes?

What kind of insane progress was this?

Although stunned, Asuma quickly performed a substitution jutsu, vanishing into a puff of smoke.

The remaining shuriken embedded themselves into a wooden log.

Substitution jutsu was an essential trick in a ninja's arsenal, capable of creating the illusion of teleportation.

"Your shuriken skills are impressive," Asuma admitted, reappearing a few meters away, "but this ends now."

Asuma planned to finish the fight quickly. He couldn't afford to let this drag out—it would be humiliating to struggle against someone who had only been enrolled for a week.

With a burst of chakra-enhanced speed, he activated the Body Flicker Technique, closing the distance to Yorin in seconds with a kunai in hand.

"Move, Yorin!" Kurenai shouted, worry evident on her face.

"He's frozen in fear!" Obito smirked. "He doesn't even know the Three Basic Techniques. This fight is over."

But just as the kunai seemed certain to strike, Yorin formed a hand seal.

Nothing happened—or so it seemed.

Obito opened his mouth to comment but paused, confused, as Asuma suddenly halted mid-attack.

"It's a genjutsu," Kakashi remarked, his eyes gleaming with interest. "The match is already decided."

From Asuma's perspective, Yorin had failed to cast his jutsu. Smirking, he closed in for the decisive blow.

"You've lost!" he declared, thrusting his kunai.

But it missed.

"What's going on?" Asuma turned to find Yorin standing behind him.

"How did he dodge that?" Asuma's mind raced.

Refusing to back down, he dispelled his kunai and clasped his hands together.

"Wind Release: Gale Palm!" he shouted, unleashing a sharp gust of wind toward Yorin.

But once again, Yorin evaded effortlessly.

"I don't believe it!" Asuma launched another gale, only to miss again. The repeated exertion drained his chakra, leaving him dizzy.

Standing still a few meters away, Yorin watched impassively.

Finally, Asuma pieced it together.

"A genjutsu!" he realized. But he had no idea how to dispel it—this wasn't something covered in the Academy yet.

Frozen in place, he watched helplessly as Yorin approached him.

The genjutsu—Demonic Illusion: Hell Viewing Technique—was designed to prey on fears. For Asuma, the fear of losing to Yorin dominated his thoughts.

The illusion ended as Yorin canceled the technique.

Asuma's vision cleared just in time to see the blunt edge of Yorin's kunai hovering at his neck.

"Are you alright?" Yorin asked calmly, withdrawing his weapon.

"..." Asuma was speechless. His face flushed as anger, shame, and frustration surged within him.

"Take a deep breath," Yorin advised. "Dizziness is normal—you overexerted yourself."

"You!" Asuma pointed a trembling finger at Yorin, his entire body shaking.

Though Yorin's words seemed sincere, they only fanned the flames of Asuma's humiliation.