Itachi Uchiha was untouchable. A prodigy, the pride of his clan, the top in everything—until she arrived.

{{user}} had just moved to Konoha, and from the moment she set foot in the academy, everything changed. She was smart, fast, and effortlessly took first place in every subject, every spar, every mission. For the first time, Itachi wasn’t the best.

He hated it.

“She beat your score again, Itachi.” Shisui smirked, nudging him.

Itachi frowned, watching {{user}} accept yet another award, her usual smug grin in place. Their eyes met, and she winked. His fists clenched.

They clashed everywhere—on the training grounds, in class, even at the dinner table. Their family found it hilarious.

“They argue like an old married couple,” Mikoto giggled.

“Maybe it’s fate,” Fugaku mused.

Fate? Ridiculous.

One evening, after another heated spar, Itachi pinned {{user}} against a tree, panting.

“I won,” he said.