Chapter Twenty-One

The next match pitted a young woman with dark skin associated with her home village of Kumogakure that contrasted her sky-blue eyes and her platinum blonde hair that was tied in a short tail under her bandana-style forehead protector. Like many shinobi of her village, she wore predominantly grey, only broken by a white vest and a black belt and boots. But the most impressive aspect of her attire was the pair of swords at her waist, a katana and wakizashi.

Her opponent was a young man from Kusa, dressed in a green sweater and fatigues, with shinobi sandals. One of his hands was covered in a leather glove with pill containers sewn into the cuff and the other a gauntlet of steel plates. His lips drew attention, covered with faint scarring as if his mouth had been burned.

"Hajime!" called the proctor. "Fight!"

The kunoichi drew her katana and darted forward with good acceleration, but she wasn't fast enough to close the distance before the Kusa nin crunched a pill between his teeth and wove a chain of hand seals ending in the Tiger seal. He breathed deeply and spat a condensed ball of fire at his opponent.

The kunoichi darted to the side with hardly an inch to spare as the orb of fire blazed past her to violently explode when it hit the wall of the arena. Sweat broke out on her forehead as the Kusa nin inhaled again and spat. She rushed forward even as she bent back to avoid the blast, the shockwave of the detonation knocking her forward a bit. Then a third spit shell of flames and another narrow dodge.

The pattern was broken as the Kusa nin drew another pill from his glove and crunched it, chewing and swallowing before resuming his barrage of exploding shells. He spent three before taking another moment to reload, but by then his vulnerability had been shown.

The kunoichi had closed the gap between the second round of shells and swung her sword at his arm, the blade crackling with Lightning chakra. She swung in a whirling arc that flowed from one strike to another, forcing the Kusa nin back step by step and never giving him a chance to refuel.

One misstep was all it took for the kunoichi to get a cut in, and the electricity surging down her katana blade forced the Kusa nin's muscles to lock up in paralysis. She punched him to the ground for good measure and drove her sword down right next to his wrist, right beside his pill capsules.

"Winner, Niko Saisentan!"

The Kumo swordswoman sheathed her swords with a nod to her opponent before climbing the steps with swagger.

"Anyone else notice how many of these applicants are using chakra flow in their techniques?" Kato asked.

"It's a relatively simple skill," Ken noted, thinking of his own uses of the technique. "And if you're creative enough you can really make it work in your favor."

"Perhaps you can show us some of that creativity," Hotaru commented, looking up at the next match up.

Doriru Juro vs Ken Uzumaki

At the sight of the match-up, several jonin instructors in the stands tensed up; more specifically the jonin from Kiri and Kumo. Many of them were familiar with the legends of the Uzumaki clan, while others recalled times from their childhood of listening to their parents talk about them.

And there was one here, competing against their genin.

The genin facing Ken was a male of middling height and indeterminate build, his frame hidden by a large navy raincoat and what looked like wading pants, his hood drawn up and the rest of his face hidden behind a trademark rebreather.

Ken squared his shoulders and widened his stance before removing the bandage that held his Transformation seal. With deliberate movements, he tore the seal into tiny pieces and tossed them like confetti, the Transformation wavering from his brown-eyed brunet disguise to his true appearance of blue-grey eyes and scarlet locks.

The proctor seemed unfazed by Ken's transformation as he shouted, "Hajime! Begin!"

"I'll give you one chance to withdraw," Ken said evenly.

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you?" the Ame nin said belligerently, his voice metallic from the rebreather. "You think being from a Great Village will help you, you piece of crap?! Huh?!"

"I've lived in Konoha for only a few months," Ken admitted. "But where I'm from doesn't change anything. Last chance: withdraw."

"Not on your life, sucker!" the Ame nin shouted, producing a large scroll. He unfurled it to reveal sealing formulae. He clapped his hand to the formulae and mimed pulling something out, his motion followed by a thin cloud of purple mist. More tendrils emerged and, with a flick of the nin's wrist, they darted for Ken's position like striking serpents.

But Ken had not been standing idly during this process. With a burst of smoke, he produced a sealing scroll of his own and unfurled it. As the tendrils of probable poison lunged at him, he activated his own seal and drew them in like a vacuum.

The Ame nin stood in shock before he moved to unseal more mist, but a half dozen kunai from Ken impacted the scroll, pinning it to the ground and ruining the lines of formulae. The nin looked up in outrage, only to find Ken lunging at him. The redhead punched his opponent across the jaw and slapped a sealing tag on his back before tossing him bodily away.

The Ame nin leapt to his feet, trembling with rage, a kunai in each hand. "Is that all you've got?!"

"Nope," Ken admitted. "This is." He held up a half hand seal and activated the tag he'd placed on his opponent. The tag lit up with chakra glow and the Ame nin's body locked up as a raging current of electricity lanced through his body. Faint twitches and pained grunts were all he could make under the seal's effects.

After several seconds of pain, the seal deactivated and the Ame nin could relax, breaths heaving in the wake of such pain. "I'll give you a chance to forfeit before I do that again," Ken warned.

The Ame nin grunted and jerkily reached for his back, but another half-seal from Ken sent him writhing from more electricity. This lasted for several long moments before the seal once again deactivated. "One more chance," Ken said.

"I-I f-f-forfeit …!" the Ame nin croaked, still trembling.

Ken strode forward and tore the sealing tag from his defeated opponent's back, tearing it to pieces just as he had done before — the proctor announcing his victory — before returning to his place in the stands. Both of his teammates looked at him with wide eyes. "What?" he asked.

"That was cold, man," Kato chuckled nervously.

Ken only shrugged. "I didn't come here to mess around. And it's not just me riding on a promotion." He smiled faintly. "Besides, I wanted to give a taste of what the world has forgotten about my clan."

The next match-up was between another genin from Amegakure — this one with a large poncho and an even larger umbrella slung across his shoulders, his dark eyes behind goggles and dark hair styled backward into spikes — against a Kiri nin with the trademark sharpened teeth and pinstriped armbands, an open vest, and baggy pants with a sheathed tanto on his belt.

"Hajime! Fight!"

The Kiri nin drew his sword and lunged for his opponent. The Ame nin, with agility belaying his baggy clothes, swung his umbrella to knock the sword blade off course before thrusting and opening the umbrella in a gust of Wind Release that sent blades of air hurtling at the Kiri nin.

The Kiri swordsman's quick retreat hardly mitigated the attack, which left long, shallow cuts all over his body. He hissed in discomfort and began a string of hand seals, but the Ame nin was not done. He spun his open umbrella to conjure a tight cyclone that caught the Kiri nin and slammed him to the ground, forming a small crater. After a groan of pain, he didn't get up.

"With his opponent unable to fight, Ren of Amegakure is the winner."

"Wow," Kato said with a grimace of sympathy, "that was painful to watch."

All of the other observers, genin and jonin alike, were displaying expressions of sympathy or disappointment, along with a few who seemed to think the result was darkly humorous.

The second-to-last match had been between a Taki male and a Kusa kunoichi. They had started out fine, both resorting to taijutsu and giving a decent showing before bringing out kunai and shuriken. It was when ninjutsu came out that things very rapidly went downhill.

Both had flashed through a chain of hand seals when they had leapt back for distance. An observant individual would notice it was the exact same chain. Apparently, the shared technique had been a genjutsu to cause immediate unconsciousness … you know, considering both finished their techniques in complete unison and then like mirrors dropped like logs.

"Seriously though, what are the odds?" Kato asked.

"Kusa has a reputation for passively bringing in techniques from other nations," Ken mentioned. "They don't steal them, per se, and they don't officially bargain for them. They just pay close attention and reverse engineer them. Diplomacy is a huge part of their government, so it's kind of natural they would take a similar route in gaining techniques."

"So Kusa learned that technique," Hotaru picked up, "and it just so happens that that Taki genin knew the same technique and they used it at the same time."

"So not very likely," Kato surmised with a faint grin.

"Pretty much," Ken shrugged.

"Good night, my dearest."

Kaori, of the Uzumaki clan, leaned down and kissed her darling daughter Karin on the forehead. Properly tucked in, Karin smiled back. "Good night, Mama," she replied. Kaori gently lifted away Karin's glasses and placed them on the end table before moving to the door, pausing only to blow one last kiss to Karin before leaving.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Kaori's warm smile withered into a look of utmost exhaustion. She couldn't help herself from stumbling to her own room in the tiny apartment the Kusagakure village had assigned them, the mask of maternal strength she wore slipping away.

Kaori was glad she'd changed into her pajamas before she put Karin to bed, as it allowed her to simply collapse onto the mattress with a groan of discomfort and get herself settled before falling asleep. Or at least, that was the goal. Despite her bone-deep fatigue, it seemed that sleep would not come easily tonight.

Tomorrow was her day off, maybe she could take it easy in the morning.

As sleep continued to elude her, Kaori couldn't help but reflect on her time in this village. Her eyes began to burn as she considered their delicate and often unfair situation. On one hand, living in a shinobi village was preferable to living anywhere else. Even decades after the destruction of Uzushiogakure, her beloved home, people still would hunt rumors of survivors of the clan to try and exploit or harness their abilities. Or force them — meaning her and her daughter — to procreate and produce children with great potential.

Even with, or perhaps in spite of, her basic training and knowledge in the use of chakra, Kaori was no shinobi. She needed others to keep her, and more importantly Karin, safe.

On the other hand, were they not exploited here as well? Despite her rudimentary skills with medical ninjutsu, and a genuine desire to learn more, Kaori had been barred from advancing her skills in Kusagakure. Instead, she was assigned to the hospital to use her clan's Rejuvenating Bite for critically wounded and extensively injured patients, the potency of her life force providing such quick and thorough recovery that some of the nurses had called her a miracle worker.

But despite all she did for Grass Village's Shinobi Corps, she and her daughter were still treated as outsiders, monitored almost constantly in case they tried to flee. Despite living and serving in a shinobi village, she and Karin were alone.

Though she tried to fight it, Kaori's mind wandered back to simpler and happier times, before the Fall of the village. She remembered warm, sunny days on the pebbled beaches next to the harbor and spending her time either with her mother at the doctor's office where she worked or watching her father as he coordinated construction workers with his sensory ninjutsu.

She had been a child when it all happened, and a young one at that at the tender age of five years. Her family had been returning from a visit to the Land of Hot Springs when everything happened. Hell, they'd been waiting on a ferry from the shores of the Land of Fire to the island when the siege had begun. As civilians, they had fled rather than try to fight … a decision that had haunted her parents for years to come.

Kaori openly wept at the memory of losing her father. He'd barely had time to teach her the clan techniques he knew before they were found out, their red hair giving them away. Her father had given his life to give her and her mom time to escape. She'd been thirteen. A mere five years later, as soon as Kairi was an adult, her mother had cut her own wrists.

Now alone and hardly an adult, she'd found work at a hospital. She'd been too cautious to use her gift then, instead learning low-level medical ninjutsu and becoming a nurse's aide. A doctor there, a charming man, had taken her in and swept her off her feet. It lasted a few months before she found out two things: he was married, and she was pregnant. He'd denied being the father and the shame had forced her to leave.

Though it had hurt almost as much as losing her home and her parents, Kaori couldn't hate him. Her Karin had been born healthy and strong, the greatest light of her life. It was then that she had made the decision to settle in a shinobi village, to offer her unique ability in exchange for protecting her daughter and teaching her.

Kaori felt her eyelids finally grow heavy as she prayed for her daughter's sake. Prayed that things might get better.

The final match of the preliminary rounds had finally arrived, pitting genin from Kumogakure against Amegakure.

The Kumo nin was rather handsome and quite muscular, of fair skin and fairer hair cut short, his eyes grey like storm clouds. He stood with a wide stance and his arms crossed, a look of smug superiority twisting his lips. Like his countrymen, he wore predominantly grey, except for a purple scarf wrapped around his shoulders, while his village headband hung from his hips like a belt.

The Ame nin was slim and pale, dressed for heavy rain — also like his fellows — in wading pants and a form-fitting, long-sleeved shirt with elbow-length leather gloves, as well as a wide straw hat, with goggles instead of his teammates' rebreathers. A length of metal wire was wound around each of his arms, each wire tipped in an arrowhead-like point.

"For the final time today," the proctor declared. "Hajime! Fight!"

In a flash of movement, the Ame nin swung his arms to extend the wires wrapped around them, a faint blue glow along their lengths indicating chakra flow. He whipped the wires around a few times with far more speed and grace than should have been possible before flicking them to send the points hurtling toward his opponent.

The Kumo nin huffed and spun to avoid both points before grabbing them from the air. He gave a sinister, toothy grin before flowing his own Lightning-natured chakra down the wires, the current blasting the Ame nin backward and nearly to the arena wall behind him.

With a contemptuous flick, the Kumo nin jerked the wires away from the Ame nin and tossed them behind him. As the Ame nin jerkily got to his feet, the Kumo removed a pair of elaborately-fashioned tekko — semi-circular weapons similar to brass knuckles — with sealing script carved into the striking surfaces. He twisted his neck and shoulders, the joints popping, before he grinned again and charged toward his foe.

The Ame nin barely had time to retrieve a kunai before the Kumo nin was upon him. He frantically dodged and backpedaled as the Kumo struck out with an unending chain of powerful jabs and hooks, grunting in pain when one of the strikes connected. Soon enough, his back hit the wall and he had nowhere to retreat as the Kumo nin kept up his assault.

The Kumo nin laughed as he bombarded his opponent with heavy punches, the tekko providing mass and weight to his strikes to break open skin and crack bones. And there was nothing the Ame nin could do to stop it.

Just as the proctor moved to end the fight, the Kumo nin backed off and let the Hidden Rain genin slide to the ground in a heap of blood and agony. "Call it," the Cloud genin said snidely before walking away.

"Winner of the final preliminary match," the proctor said through grit teeth, "Atsuen Raiun."

As the proctor ordered everyone to return to the arena floor for the final address, everyone had their eyes on the final winner, Atsuen, with varying levels of fear or contempt.

"What an asshole," Kato spat.

After the village head of Kusagakure congratulated the winners of the preliminary rounds on their victories and explained that they would have one month to refine their current skills, learn new ones, strategize for their upcoming opponents, and any variation therein, he also explained how the promotion process would work.

"Winning the tournament," he stressed, "does not necessarily earn you a promotion to chunin. Each of you will be judged by the leaders and any number of jonin of your respective villages on characteristics we look for in chunin, such as strategy, improvisation, and creativity. Should you display these traits, it is possible for any of you to be promoted after only one round.

"However, given these parameters it is also distinctly possible, if unlikely, that none of you will become chunin. And while a one-round promotion is possible, participating in more rounds provides more opportunities to show what you can do, display chunin traits, and impress the audience to draw missions to your villages." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Now then, your proctor will present each of you with a bowl containing slips of paper. On these papers are written numbers that indicate your matches for the true third phase of the Exams."

As he spoke, the proctor did just that and passed the bowl to allow them to take their numbers. On Ken's part, he opened his folded paper slip to reveal a number three.

"Now, as I call your name, call out your number," the proctor ordered. He went through the list of names alphabetically, each genin calling out their numbers as they had been told. When he had called out the last name, the proctor presented the finalized tournament bracket.

'Ashashi Sebire,' Ken thought. 'The psycho Kiri swordswoman.'

'Ren of Amegakure,' Kato silently read. 'Gee, wonder who he is,' he added, glancing at the single Hidden Rain genin.

'Niko Saisentan, another Cloud genin,' Hotaru thought.

"You know your challengers, and you have one month to prepare," the village head stated once more. "Good luck to you all, and remember: put your best foot forward."

After everyone had been escorted from the Swamp of Despair, each of the genin cells, those who hadn't been sent to the infirmary, split up to bemoan their losses or begin planning their training. The Kusagakure government had, as per tradition, offered winning genin their own private training ground for the next month to smooth their preparation.

"Nice to know we were right," Kato announced to his teammates and jonin instructor.

"About what?" Ken asked absently, mulling over how he would prepare.

"We all made it to the final round," Kato said with a wide smile. "Heck, I'm sure we'll all bag a promotion out of this."

"It would be unwise to jinx yourself or your teammates," Muta admonished neutrally. "Especially this early in the month." Everything was silent until the group arrived at their lodgings, when Muta broached another important topic. "Has everyone considered who they will be training with for the next month?"

"I will be sending a dispatch to the Hyuga estate to request one of my uncles to train me," Hotaru supplied. "I must continue to hone my Gentle Fist in preparation for my match, especially against a swordswoman."

"I was kinda hoping you'd train with me, Master Muta," Kato shrugged.

"Ken? Have you made arrangements?" Muta asked.

Ken grimaced as he realized he hadn't planned that far ahead. "Well, uh …"

"Oh, don't worry about him. He's covered," someone called out. Ken whirled around in surprise at the familiar voice to find Aoba leaning back against the wall of the hotel lobby, smirking underneath his shades. "Sup, Uzumaki? Are you ready to start?"

"Aoba? What are you doing here?" Ken asked in shock.

"I volunteered to help you train for the finals," Aoba replied. "I thought I'd made that clear."

"You volunteered?" Ken asked. "Why? Won't you lose money this way?"

"Hey, if you wanna pay me a D-rank fee for this, go right ahead," Aoba chuckled. "But honestly, I just thought I could help you out. Tomoko's looking after your nephew, or whatever the kid is to you. And I've always been the kind to see things through to the end, whether it be a mystery novel, a puzzle, or a team placement."

Ken smiled and nodded his thanks. "You have my gratitude," he said.

Aoba barked a laugh. "Don't say that yet, man. I'm gonna drive you into the ground! If a second of training can make the difference between a promotion and none, you're gonna be covered from head to toe on that." He flicked his head toward the door. "So come on."

"Wait, now?" Ken asked.

"Yep. What part of 'a second's difference in training' did you not understand?"

And so the prelims finally come to an end! We'll have a chapter of preparations before the real third exam starts.

*The nin who spit exploding fireballs was inspired by Combustion Man from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

*Ken's seal was based upon the obedience disks from Thor: Ragnarok.

*The mutual loss was based upon Sakura vs Ino in canon.

*Kaori's backstory is a complete figment of my own imagination. There is no doubt that survivors of the Fall, such as Nagato's parents in canon, had it exceedingly hard. I wanted to reflect that in her tale, a tale that makes oppression in the Hidden Grass seem like a lesser evil.

*Atsuen Raiun could roughly translate to "rolling thunderhead," inspired by his talents. His clan is a figment of my own and a major power in Kumo - this will be explored later.

As always, I hope you enjoyed it! Leave a review if you had particular scenes you liked. And may your inspiration ever flow.