The spar

Genma and I stood across from each other on the Senju clan training ground. The atmosphere was deceptively casual, but I could feel the buzz of anticipation crackling in the air—maybe it was my own jittery chakra. I closed my eyes for a moment and forced myself to calm down, steadying my chakra flow. No distractions. No nervous flares. Just a friendly spar… with an audience of half the legendary shinobi of Konoha.

"I'll pretend they all are big potataoes " i muttered softly .

Everyone stood just outside the sparring perimeter, observing. Minato approached us with that calm smile that always had a grounding effect.

“Genma, Sen,” he said gently, “I don’t need to remind you this is just a friendly spar. Sen, this isn’t your evaluation. That won’t be happening anytime soon, so please—relax, both of you. Just do what you’ve prepared for.”

We both nodded politely, but let’s be honest—this was a little more than a friendly spar. Our dignity was on the line, especially with so many high-profile shinobi watching. I knew Genma wouldn’t want to lose in front of Minato, Kakashi, Shikaku, and Tsunade. And I definitely didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of the entire council.

Easier said than done, Minato.

“SEEEEN!!! KICK HIS ASS!!!”Shishu’s voice broke through the calm like a thunderclap. She was standing near Hiro-sensei, both clearly entertained by the spectacle already.

Minato chuckled under his breath. “Just don’t hurt each other seriously. Tsunade-sama won’t let you live through the paperwork.”

He turned and returned to the group. Nawaki stepped forward now, casually cracking his knuckles.

“I’ll be proctoring this light spar,” he announced. “I’ll stop you both if it looks like you’re pushing too hard. Remember, this isn’t a war zone—save the heroics for later.”

Genma shifted the senbon between his teeth with a grin. “I’ll go easier on you, Sen.”

“In your dreams, Shiranui,” I replied smoothly, cracking my knuckles in return.

We took our places and stepped back to make some space between us, each analyzing the other. It wasn’t the Chūnin Exams, but it sure felt like it. Somewhere in my head, I could hear the words:

“The moment you doubt your own strength, you’ve already lost.”

Yeah. I wasn’t about to doubt myself.

Nawaki raised his hand.“Begin!”

And just like that, the match was on.

As the match began, Genma wasted no time—senbon flew my way like a sudden rainstorm. I dodged them easily enough, but I knew better than to think this was his real strategy. This was Genma Shiranui after all; the senbon were just a distraction.

Simultaneously, I began laying my own traps—thin, dust-colored paper seals scattered beneath the dry earth, nearly invisible. With precise chakra threads, they adhered to the ground silently. Those would come in handy later.

As I side-stepped another wave of senbon, I unleashed a pulse of lightning chakra straight at him, followed by a rapid volley of fireballs. That actually made him pause—just for a second. His surprise didn’t last long.

I tried to close the distance between us. Genma knew that if I got too close, the advantage would swing to me. Clearly, he didn’t want that.

Within seconds, he unsheathed a katana—lightweight, clean, probably ANBU-grade. So that was his play. He’d keep the range, block any taijutsu, and counter fast.

Fine. If this was how he wanted to play, then I’d go full Fuinjutsu.

I channeled chakra into the seals tattooed along my arms. A faint glow shimmered over my skin as a thin chakra coating enveloped me—like armor. It would help against genjutsu interference too, in case he had that in mind.

I didn’t wait. I darted toward him, my fists glowing with mid-level sealing energy. Chakra-punched fuin strikes—each one infused with a burst designed to stagger and seal movement momentarily.

My strikes met his blade repeatedly. The crackling energy hissed against the metal—until one powerful hit snapped his katana clean in half.

His eyes narrowed. That definitely riled him up.

Without a word, he dropped the broken hilt and clapped his hands. A sharp tremor rumbled beneath me. Genma formed a quick Earth Style hand sign, and jagged rocks launched into the air above my head.

Nope.

With barely a breath, I shunshined out of the spot—fast. Faster than even I anticipated. My movement sliced the air behind me like wind.

Godspeed reflex. Barely.

This spar was heating up.

Although I had several hidden jutsu up my sleeve, this was just a spar—not the time to reveal all my cards. But still, I was curious. I wanted to see how my fuinjutsu would fare against an actual ANBU-grade shinobi like Genma.

As I was analyzing him, he suddenly hurled a couple of paper bombs in my direction. Without wasting a breath, I countered with a Wind Style jutsu of my own—one I had crafted and was secretly very proud of. A swirling wind vortex burst forward from my hands, catching the paper bombs mid-air and sending them flying right back toward him.

The vortex held strong—stable and unyielding—as the paper bombs detonated in rapid succession around him. Fire and dust clouded the field. I couldn’t see clearly through the haze.

But when the smoke cleared, Genma was nowhere in sight.

Oh no.

That only meant one thing.

He was underground.

Bad news. Very bad news.

I immediately recalled a scene from the old Naruto records—where Kakashi had slipped beneath the earth and popped out right beneath Sakura during a bell test. That was a gamble. But if Genma was doing the same thing…

I threw a chakra-coated punch down into the ground—not quite on par with Tsunade or Sakura, but good enough to disrupt something underneath.

Sure enough, Genma burst from the earth like a surprised mole, clearly not expecting that. His expression was priceless.

But just when I thought I had the upper hand, the ground beneath me erupted—an earth-style trap I hadn’t noticed. It exploded, launching me backward through the air like a ragdoll until I slammed into a tree.

“Shit… that’s going to hurt for days.” I groaned.

That was my mistake.

Genma, sharp as ever, saw the opening and didn’t hesitate. With swift precision, he launched another volley of senbon toward me. I dodged most of them—except one.

And that one?

It hit me square on the butt.

There was a pause. Then I yanked it out, furious.

“You’re a creep, Genma!” I shouted, holding the senbon like it was a cursed blade.

He just smirked from afar.

That was it. That one senbon was enough to ignite my fury.

The poison would take at least a minute to kick in—enough time for one last counter.

I activated the chakra wires attached to the fuin seals I had placed earlier beneath the dust-covered ground. With a sharp tug, they detonated.

Two of them hit Genma directly.

One of them released a powdered anesthetic—mild, but enough to make him drowsy in just a few seconds.

“If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me,” I muttered.

As the seconds passed, the battlefield became hilariously uncoordinated. Both of us were sluggish, our movements loopy. Our jutsu misfired or veered off-target completely.

In the end, I lunged at him with what could only be described as half-hearted, dizzy punches. He stumbled as he tried to dodge—only to get gently tapped on the side of his head, like a drunk slap.

And then…

We both collapsed.

Minato’s POV

It was one of those slow, dragging afternoons in the Hokage office. Paperwork was stacked in a tidy but intimidating pile on my left, and the village reports in front of me were starting to blur together. The ceiling had never looked so fascinating.

Peace had its own strange kind of fatigue. I wasn't complaining—it was better than war—but still, days like this made me restless.

Tomorrow, though, wouldn’t be as quiet. A meeting with the council was scheduled, and I had a feeling they were going to bring up something regarding the Senju legacy and academy archives again.

That’s when I felt a sudden, gentle chakra presence appear on my desk.

A small poof of smoke dissipated, and a tiny, pale blue slug sat squarely on top of my papers, looking at me with serene, blinking eyes.

“Hello, Hokage-sama,” the slug said in a soft and elegant voice. Ketsu,Tsunade-sama’s summons—always so calm, even when delivering chaos.

“Tsunade-sama asked me to inform you: Sen and Genma will be engaging in a spar at the Senju clan grounds, in approximately two hours. If you're interested, you're invited to observe.”

She waited silently, respectfully, for my response.

I blinked, sitting straighter.

Sen and Genma? Now that was unexpected.

Genma wasn’t just any shinobi—he was one of our most capable and stealthiest ANBU, not the type to spar just anyone unless there was something unusual going on.

They were definitely up to something. A bet, maybe?

Either way, it should be interesting.

I smiled lightly.

“Thank you, Ketsu-sama. Please let Tsunade-sama know—I’ll be there.”

The slug dipped slightly in a gesture of acknowledgment and vanished with a soft puff of smoke.

I sat back in my chair, fingers steepled beneath my chin.

Sen was still weeks, perhaps months, away from her formal evaluation. This wasn’t that. But seeing her spar someone like Genma would give all of us a glimpse of her instincts under pressure—and it might give Shikaku some material to think on too.

I summoned one of my trusted messenger frog, passing on the message for Shikaku to join me at the spar.

---

Two hours later...

When I arrived at the Senju clan grounds, the quiet hum of chakra and laughter already filled the air. Several familiar chakra signatures flickered at the edge of the field.

And then—of course—

“MINATO!”

Kushina’s chakra flared the moment she saw me.

She stormed up, hands on her hips and eyebrows twitching.

“You sent a summon to Shikaku but didn’t even think to tell me?” she said through gritted teeth.

I raised my hands in surrender, laughing awkwardly.

“Kushina, I swear—I forgot. It just slipped my mind.”

That wasn’t a lie. I’d been thinking in terms of paperwork and logistics—not remembering that Sen’s shishou would obviously want to be present too.

Kushina gave me a dramatic side-eye that said you’re sleeping on the couch tonight, and marched away toward Tsunade.

I scratched the back of my head.

Well, that could’ve gone better.

Others  arrived not long after. So did Nawaki, who had taken it upon himself to proctor the match. Several of the clan members were already gathered, chatting in low voices.

Sen and Genma stood across from each other in the clearing, both focused. I could tell by the way Sen controlled her chakra—subtle adjustments, calming her jitters. And Genma? Already smirking with his senbon lazily twitching between his lips.

I stepped up briefly to both of them.

“Sen, Genma,” I addressed them with a relaxed smile, “just a reminder—this is a friendly spar. No one’s being evaluated. So don’t stress yourselves. Just do what you’ve planned, and don’t kill each other. Tsunade-sama won’t let me live with it if you do.”

They both nodded politely, but I could already sense the tension. No matter what I said, with so many high-profile eyes watching, neither of them was going to hold back.

Kushina leaned in next to Tsunade.

“SEN! KICK HIS ASS!!” she shouted without any shame.

So much for calm encouragement.

From the side, Nawaki stepped forward and raised his arm. The match was about to begin.

This was going to be fun to watch.

-------

The fight ended far more chaotically than I’d expected.

I knew Sen had been training with Kawarama and Itama, but witnessing it firsthand was different. She’s evolved—she’s not just a fuinjutsu specialist anymore. The taijutsu she displayed today had clearly adapted into a hybrid form, woven with Senju-style katas, and refined through real-time instincts. But even with all of that, Genma is... well, Genma.

He’s a hardened ANBU operative—one of the few I know who’s walked through fire and shadows and lived to make jokes about it. Genma might act aloof, with that senbon always dangling from his lips, but underneath that calm, almost lazy demeanor is someone trained to eliminate threats before they fully emerge. ANBU don’t fight fair. They fight lethal. Speed, deception, layered traps, psychological warfare, and total detachment—these are the pillars of their training.

And Genma? He’s a specialist in stealth-based assassination. His Hirashin adaptation isn’t like mine—it's not flashy. It’s surgical. Precise. He only used a fraction of his skills today. If this had been a battlefield, he wouldn’t have played. He would have erased.

That said... Sen held her ground. Not perfectly—but impressively. She used wits, counters, her chakra sensing, her hybrid fuin-taijutsu. And in the end, they both tagged each other with poisons.

The irony? Poison isn’t even Sen’s specialty.

The two of them collapsed to the ground, equally drained, equally bruised. Neither unconscious, but neither quite functional either. It was a deadlock by any standard.

Kushina was the first to rush in—her chakra flaring with urgency—and Tsunade followed right after. There was panic, but not alarm. Tsunade’s eyes were scanning, calculating.

“Well,” she muttered, crouching beside them, “both of them killed each other with poison.”

I crouched closer to where Sen was lying, her head resting slightly tilted on the grass, her breathing shallow but rhythmic.

“Sen, Genma—can you hear me?” I asked gently.

Their eyes were glassy, but still open.

Sen blinked slowly, turned her head toward me with great effort and asked, dead serious—

“Is that a potato with blond hair?”

I blinked, momentarily stunned.

“Huh?”

Kushina, standing behind me, burst into laughter—loud, honest, tearful laughter that shook her shoulders. She grabbed my arm to steady herself.

“Minato…” she wheezed, “she thinks you’re a potato!”

I let out a sigh, one part amused and one part concerned. Sen was clearly still conscious, just... not quite fully present.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Tsunade said, stepping in with her glowing hands, her chakra humming steadily as she started healing Sen. Nawaki moved to Genma, doing the same.

“They’re going to be alright,” Tsunade reassured us. “The poisons are manageable, but they do need overnight observation.”

Nawaki nodded in agreement, still channeling his chakra. “If this were the battlefield, I’d force a faster heal... but when we have the time, it’s better to let their bodies recover naturally.”

I understood. They weren’t in immediate danger, and that was what mattered. But still, this match had escalated more than I imagined it would.

This wasn’t just a friendly spar—it was a reminder of the strength both of them held back.

Sen’s development is... extraordinary.

But today, even the poison didn’t matter much. They both stood, fell, and bled with pride—and a strange, shared laughter at the end.

I just hope "potato" doesn’t become my new nickname around the tower.

Sen’s POV

I lay on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, my arms resting by my sides, still feeling the aftershocks of what was supposed to be a friendly spar. Light-hearted? Maybe. But when half the elite of Konoha are standing at the edge of the field watching you—Minato, Tsunade, Shikaku, Kushina—you can’t help but panic just a little. Okay, a lot.

Across the room, Genma shifted on his bed. The hospital wing was quiet, with only the occasional beep of a monitor or the muffled steps of med-nin in the hallway. We were in the secure wing—a special ANBU sector with only five beds. Tonight, though, it was just the two of us. And a couple of ANBU stationed outside. I recognized the chakra signatures already—Tenzo and Raido. They must’ve volunteered.

“You’re too loud out there,” Genma muttered without even looking my way, his voice laced with lazy amusement.

I smiled, still staring at the ceiling. “That’s my specialty,” I replied coolly.

What I didn’t say was that I still hadn’t forgiven him for that senbon he sent straight to my ass. The moment I can move around more freely again, I’m getting even. He won’t see it coming.

The room was dim but warm, the soft hum of chakra in the healing wards casting a faint glow. My body still felt a little sluggish, like someone had turned down the dial on my chakra just enough to slow me down—but I was healing. We both were. If all went well, we’d be discharged by tomorrow morning.

Genma’s voice broke through the quiet again, calmer this time.

“You did well, Sen. You gave me a tough match. I wasn’t holding back much. You’ve got something there… and in a real situation, it would’ve been win or die. That’s no small thing.”

I turned my head to look at him. He was lying with one arm behind his head, the other lazily hanging off the side of the bed. It wasn’t flattery—I could tell by his tone. It was genuine acknowledgement. Coming from someone like Genma, a seasoned ANBU who’s seen more blood and war than most chūnin even dream of, it meant something.

I smiled. “Thanks. I know I’m not there yet… but it’s good to hear I’m not completely embarrassing myself.”

He chuckled lightly. “Not even close.”

I sighed, adjusting my pillow.

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight.”

“Why? Pain?”

“No, I just… don’t like hospitals. That antiseptic smell gets under my skin. And it’s too quiet.” I looked around. “I’m glad I didn’t become a medic-nin. No offense to your poisons and needles.”

“None taken,” he replied. “No one likes hospitals. Even ANBU who’ve been stitched up a hundred times still find it hard to rest in one. But you’re safe here. Like you sensed, Tenzo and Raido are just outside. If anything happens—which it won’t—they’ll be faster than even me with Hirashin.”

That made me feel a little better. Even if my body felt heavy, my chakra was still aware. The room, the walls, the hall—no threats.

I turned toward the side table. Shishou had dropped off some books before she left. My hand reached for the thick one at the top—Kumo: Culture, History, and Clan Structure—a text Jiraiya had found for me. Apparently, it was the same one used in their academy.

“Kumo’s cultural history?” Genma asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. Figured it’s time I learned how others think. Can’t always fight what you don’t understand.”

“Smart. That’s probably why you’re terrifying.”

I laughed softly. He wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t you get bored of reading too much?” Genma asked from his bed, still sprawled lazily on his side, facing me. He was in the bed parallel to mine, not even pretending to sit up.

I adjusted my pillow and tried to sit upright without wincing. “Hmm… it’s actually interesting,” I replied, flipping a page. “I’ve read a lot of fiction over the years, but books like these—on culture and history—are more useful. I’ve already finished reading about Suna, Kiri, and Iwa. Kumo’s the last of the big villages I hadn’t explored. I’m going to finish it soon.”

I looked over the top of the book and added with a smirk, “And to answer your question—I like reading. It’s a great hobby. Don’t you have something that brings you real pleasure and happiness?”

He looked thoughtful for half a second before flashing that mischievous grin of his. “Hmm, yes I do… it’s a thing called tango in the sheets,” he said, voice smooth as silk. “If you know what I mean.”

I rolled my eyes and let out a very dramatic sigh. “I meant an actual hobby, Genma. One that doesn’t make me regret asking.”

Still grinning, he shrugged. “Fine. I like studying new poisons. The one that hit your ass earlier? That was a newer blend. Left a nice little tingling sensation, didn’t it?”

My face flushed red—half with embarrassment, half with righteous fury. “I am not forgetting that, Genma. Just you wait…”

“Hey hey—that was during a spar,” he said quickly, raising both hands defensively. “You can’t hold that against me forever. No revenge allowed!”

“Oh, revenge is definitely happening,” I warned with mock seriousness, pointing my index finger at him. “I’m developing a new jutsu—and let’s just say it’ll also leave a tingling sensation. Maybe somewhere much worse.”

He laughed and groaned at the same time, grabbing a pillow and shielding himself like a barricade. “You’re terrifying. I’m beginning to rethink ever agreeing to that spar.”

“Good,” I said smugly, picking my book back up. “Let the fear grow. It keeps the body healthy.”

Just as I was about to settle into my book again, a soft knock sounded at the door. I barely had the energy to look up—my chakra sensing was still sluggish from the poison. But the moment he walked in, I felt it.

My breath hitched.

“Hey, Sen,” Junpei smiled gently as he stepped into the room, his presence grounding and warm.

“Junpei…” I smiled back, surprised and instantly lighter. I tried to sit up straighter, but he crossed the distance quickly and helped me without a word, adjusting the pillows behind me with the kind of care that made my chest ache a little.

He pulled up the chair and sat beside me like he belonged there.

Across from us, Genma raised an eyebrow.

" Genma why are you bothering Sen?” Junpei asked.

“I’m not bothering anyone,” Genma grumbled, crossing his arms behind his head. “We had a spar. Tsunade ordered us to stay here for the night. Nothing major.” Then, eyeing Junpei’s hand still lingering close to mine, he smirked. “Didn’t know you two were this close?”

Junpei didn’t miss a beat. “I’d rather not answer that.”

Genma gave a wicked grin. “Fine, then let me just watch.”

Junpei rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, mildly annoyed but not angry. He knew Genma well enough to know the man wouldn’t spread gossip—he just liked poking the fire.

Junpei turned back to me, his voice lowering. “I heard you were here. I missed your spar, though…” He gently took my hand in his, his thumb tracing over my knuckles. The contact was soft, grounding. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him until just now.

“You’re back…” I could barely hide the smile. Two weeks. It had been two long weeks since our last mission together… and our first date that had yet to be followed up. Not to mention Kakashi was still on my mind. Complications on top of complications.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he said softly, as if sensing the chaos behind my smile. “You’ll be discharged in the morning, and I’ll take you home, okay?”

It was only now that I noticed he looked worn out—like someone who hadn’t had proper rest in days. There were minor cuts on his arms, and he shifted in his seat with stiffness.

“You’re hurt,” I said quietly, worry bubbling up.

He must’ve sensed it because he immediately responded, “I’m not seriously injured. Just travel fatigue. We’ve been on the road for days—ran into rogue nuke-nin more times than we wanted. I’m just here for treatment and then rest.”

Then, before I could say anything more, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of my hand. It was so warm, so tender, I forgot what room I was in. My cheeks warmed instantly.

“Good night,” he murmured, giving my hand a final squeeze before standing.

“Good night,” I whispered back, smiling despite myself.

Junpei gave Genma a short nod, and Genma returned it with a knowing look but didn’t say a word.

Once the door clicked shut behind him, Genma sighed dramatically. “I take back my earlier words. You two are definitely close.”

I threw a pillow at him. He ducked, of course.

“You’re just mad because I won.”

“We tied, technically,” he huffed, still grinning like a fool.

The hospital might’ve smelled like antiseptic and bad tea, but somehow, tonight didn’t feel that bad anymore.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Hey guys,I have not been writing regularly so sometimes i forget the plot and what has happened or not . If i write something wrong or contradict my own story please let me know . Thanks in advance ...

》》》 Constructive criticism is welcomed but don't use abusing words it will only get you reported and blocked . I don't have time or energy to converse with abusing users .

If you are on Archives of our own ( AO3 ) then read this fic . This is the inspiration behind my fic . It's 25 chapters long and finished . I hope you will like it ...

-》》 The Yondaime's assistant by Dianmoth

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