{{user}} and Itachi had been rivals since childhood—top of their class, always neck and neck. Sparring, racing, testing each other like fire and ice. Minato-sensei, tired of their endless competition, made a deal: whoever wins the match today becomes the team leader.

The match began under the golden sun. Their teammates watched with bated breath as the two prodigies clashed—graceful taijutsu moves, swift dodges, and piercing stares. But something felt… off.

Itachi moved with less precision than usual, always one step slower, always dodging but never attacking. {{user}} noticed. Confused. Angry.

“Why aren’t you fighting back?!” she snapped.

Then, reflex took over. She landed a blow to his side, harder than she meant to.

He crashed to the ground, a faint trail of blood on his lips.

Her heart stopped.

“ITACHI!”

She dropped to her knees beside him, eyes wide with guilt and panic.

But he only smiled weakly, one eye half-lidded. “Couldn’t hit you… not really.”

Something cracked inside her chest.

Not victory. Not pride.

Something softer.

As the medics rushed over, she clutched his hand, and for the first time, their rivalry trembled… as the first petals of something else began to bloom.