Chapter 100 - Sham Desperado
Inou spent far too much time in the small medical wing for his own liking. Shikake had slashed his shoulder deeper than he had thought, and they ended up having to inject him with medicines to get the blood to stop long enough for their healing to be of any use. And despite his insistence that he was fine, they insisted on attending to the bruising on his stomach.
"I don't need to be fully-healed, let me go, okay?" he said, pulling away.
"You aren't due to fight again for a while, be patient," one of the medic nin clucked.
And this was true.
But he wanted to see Karai's fight.
Part of him didn't want to—he already knew how his sister fought, he already knew her brawn-over-brains style, and seeing how well she was doing would eat away at his confidence—but the opportunity to study her opponent, in case she lost, was something he couldn't pass up.
But they kept him, and he stewed in his perceived weakness and his anger at the match with Shikake.
Just a little more time, just a little more, and he'd have been able to beat her. He'd have looked amazing.
But, no. No, no, no. He won because of a cop -out. How humiliating.
Whether he fought his sister or the stranger, Kashiwa, didn't matter. He would win, he would win with his technique, and it would be something that his father wouldn't be able to deny, that he had strength, that he was strong on his own.
When they finally let him go, and he climbed the stairs back to the observation deck, Shikake was missing, and Karai's fight was nearly over.
She was winning, clearly. Kashiwa was stumbling and sore-looking, and his once-pristine clothes were singed and smudged with dirt.
Inou analyzed what he could. It wouldn't have been a very exciting fight against Kashiwa, he concluded. He was even more predictable than Shikake—and she was his own teammate—without anything resembling a unique style to set him apart from the rest of the contestants. He seemed to rely on luck more than anything, tricking his opponents into coming near him so he could take a swipe or two, and dodging with reckless enthusiasm.
But Karai wasn't dumb. She wasn't the best at strategy, but she wasn't easily tricked.
The fight ended with a stone in Inou's stomach. Kashiwa had collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath, and Karai approached him with cautious cat-steps.
"You wanna give up? You look a little tired," she said.
Kashiwa, in reply, reached out and grabbed her arm, whipping her overhead.
Karai, however, flipped over one more time in the air than expected, and it was Kashiwa that ended up in the dirt.
"…I think I'm done," he groaned, once he'd gotten some of his knocked-out air back into him.
"Victory goes to Uchiha Karai!" the examining officer called, and the audience cheered. (Though, of course, Inou did not.)
Karai gave Kashiwa another hand, and then a shoulder, and walked off the arena with him to the medical room.
The wait after that was agonizing, as the utter real-ness of the impending fight began to settle over Inou's shoulders.
He was going to have to fight Karai, his little sister.
Big deal, they'd sparred before. And this was only her first chuunin exam, and their father didn't care about her as much, it was okay if she lost. She wouldn't care.
He had to win. It didn't matter who she was.
He would win, he would win, he would win.
Still, his anxiety remained, and only increased with each minute.
By the time Karai returned, walking straight onto the arena, Inou's hands were shaking. He gripped the railing of the observation deck to ignore it.
"Final match, Uchiha Inou versus Uchiha Karai!" Hakkou called.
He inhaled deeply, and jumped over the railing, using chakra in his right hand and foot to gracefully slide down the side of the wall and to the ground.
He approached Karai slowly. There was dirt on her face, he could see; her kneepads were scuffed up, and her smile was subdued.
She was an enemy, now, an enemy, nothing more.
"Good luck, big bro," she said to him.
Inou said nothing.
"If you are ready?" Hakkou said.
"I'm ready!" said Karai.
"Ready."
"Then, begin!"
Inou knew that he and Karai were about equals in strength, though that fact was beginning to waver from what little he was able to see of her fight with Kashiwa.
She chucked a handful of shuriken at him, which he dodged, and she leaped away.
And she was speedy, but not nearly as quick as Senritsu.
Another attack, this time with exploding kunai. Inou jumped out of the way, throwing a few back on reflex.
His mind kept whirling. His technique, he was going to use his technique on her, right? He would be able to win with that.
There was a hot roar as Karai sent a fireball his way, which he counter-acted with another fireball, just strong enough to lessen hers and allow him to get away.
He gasped, his chest hot and burning. He couldn't do that again, that took up too much energy, he wasn't good at that.
His technique, he could use it, he would win with it—but how?
He had to start somewhere. His hands formed the sign.
The tentacle of his influence stretched outward, and began searching for her. But unlike Shikake, who was stationary and slow, who had an ego to exploit, Karai was quick, and she had no secrets—at least, none that Inou knew of.
The only thing he could think of would be to track her, anticipate her movements before she did, and dodge every attack before they were even thrown.
…but what good would that do? It was an excellent stalling tactic, yeah, but the only offensive use it had was in psychological fake-outs and knitting opponents into traps of their own fault. And Inou doubted that he could…
No, no, no, he could do it, he could trap her, he just needed to track her, and, and incapacitate her. There were lots of ways he could do that. It would be easy, she was dumb, she was eleven, she was just his little sister, he could beat her.
But she bounded around the arena continuously, flinging flame and metal at irregular intervals, barely missing him whenever she leaped forward to get him into a hold. And she would always leap back, pacing and jumping, never staying still, but never constantly attacking.
She was difficult as hell to keep track of. His normal thought-scan was too slow.
…the other one, however…
He had been practicing with it, training, more and more. And he knew his brain, he trusted it, like he trusted the way that his hands could mold and shape chakra like a glass-blower shaped glass. And he and Karai were the only people in the ring—minus Hyuuga Hakkou, the examining officer, but his thoughts would be little more than static , surely, easily tuned-out.
He wouldn't lose control. He just had to keep it up for long enough to get into her mind, to anticipate her moves, to spring a mental trap that would send her flying to the ground with foam in her mouth and—no, no, he was getting ahead of himself, he had to concentrate, so he could listen.
His hands moved to his forehead, and with bubble thoughts in his mind, he began to move them apart.
The sounds of the outside world began to dim. And out of the haze, he began to hear voices. Faint and far away, at first; he squinted harder, extending the bubble of chakra, making it thinner, but stronger. He hadn't filled the whole arena yet. But he would.
He got Hakkou first. It was a slurry of thoughts—siblings fighting siblings my this is just so tragic I hope that this doesn't cause any animosity in the family—thin and worrying and past-leaning—and Inou quickly set them aside, smoothing them into the hiss of the white noise, searching for Karai.
He kept his eyes open. Normally, he wouldn't, to concentrate, to assist in visualization, but he had to see where she was, to make sure she wasn't trying to attack him. She was continuing her rounds across the arena, and threw more kunai at him, after a while. He jumped, his concentration slipping with gut-pulling intensity, but it wasn't enough. The tags on them exploded upon impact, sending stinging sands and rocks against him, and hot air burning his arms.
He closed his eyes, to shield against the explosions, to concentrate. His lids were shut so tight that mother-of-pearl lights were dancing in the darkness, and tears were leaking out, but he couldn't care. He had to be quicker, quicker, quicker. He had to catch her.
But as he concentrated, hearing the familiar voice of Hyuuga Hakkou and smoothing it out as usual, he began to hear other voices.
What an embarrassment.
A wretched little boy, isn't he?
The shape of this clan, these days, honestly.
These weren't… these weren't coming from the crowd, were they?
I doubt he'll make it, he's lost three times already.
I'd bet money on his sister, she seems far more capable.
He opened his eyes a little, just to see where Karai was. She was lingering by one of the trees, gasping for breath, wiping her mouth off on her bare arm.
Inou was struggling for breath himself, his jaw quivering. If he was hearing the crowd already, why couldn't he hear her?
Unless that wasn't the crowd…?
He's such a little failure, I wonder why he even keeps trying.
Clothes all ripped, he's quite a sight, isn't he?
He won't make it.
These were his thoughts, weren't they? Projected and warped into fictional voices, but his.
He was letting them get in the way, infecting the space, smothering all of the sounds he wanted to hear.
He grit his teeth, his breaths deepening, and he concentratedfurther.
He would win.
A plucky little half-breed, but little else.
Yeah, so what if he wasn't entirely Uchiha? He had other talents!
More Yamanaka than Uchiha.
That's right, he was good at Yamanaka things, and there wasn't any shame in that!
Oh, what is he doing?
He was concentrating, he was getting rid of these thoughts, transforming them.
There's blood all over his face, oh, I can't bear to watch.
The liquid warmth and the iron smell under his nose was becoming just as dulled as his doubt, becoming scratchier as he forced it away.
You can do it, Inou. I believe in you.
The last voice, the smallest but fondest of all, before, finally—
—break up the pattern with some close-quarters combat, I can't go flinging things at him forever, but all that blood on his face—what if he collapses, I can't let that happen, but what do I do—
Karai's voice, jingling and uncertain. He opened his eyes, and she was still frozen at the tree, her face as worried-looking as her mind.
She wasn't going to move. He could hear it in her, she was frozen by doubt.
But he wasn't. Not any more.
But how to trap her…?
Come on, come on, come on, she was frozen, for pity's sake, there was an easy way he could do this!
Easy, but stupid, it was so stupid, he hated that technique!
But he was desperate, he had to win, he had to win, so he had to use it.
His hands broke out of the sign right as she began charging for him, her path like the curve of a shuriken, weaving and darting.
His fingers came together in a triangle. The full body possession. The rough, clumsy, artless art.
Blood was dripping over his lips and down his chin and onto his already-ruined shirt.
And he sent himself forward.
His body collapsed, his limbs splaying imperfectly across the earth.
And Karai.
Stopped.
She stood, stock-still, for a moment, in the middle of the arena. The kunai she had prepared in her left hand fell to the ground. Her head was leaned forward slightly, a dull, glazed look in her eyes.
And then, she smiled, strangely, and raised her right hand.
"I, Uchiha Karai, concede defeat!"
A few seconds passed, deafening in their silence.
"V-Victory goes to Uchiha Inou!" Hyuuga Hakkou called, his smile breathless and intense. "Uchiha Inou has won the tournament!"
The applause was mighty. And shortly after it began, Karai's body went limp, around the time that Hyuuga Hakkou knelt down to check on Inou's own body.
Inou, eventually, stood, with the officer's assistance. His face was covered in smeared dirt and blood, and he wore a shaking, disbelieving, almost terrified expression. Hakkou lifted his arm, presenting him as the champion, at least symbolically—since winning the tournament didn't guarantee a person promotion, but it sure didn't hurt their chances.
When Karai came to, surrounded by worried medics, she had a tired, but genuine smile on her face, the model of a perfect loser.
Sasuke watched all of this with a set face, his arms crossed.
He did not look pleased.
(And though Nadeshiko was applauding, her face was unsure of its smile.)
Naruto came on the field, after a while, and he shook Inou's weak hand.
"Let's get you cleaned up so you can go home and celebrate with your family, y'know," he said, patting him on the back.
Inou said nothing, looking like he was going to be mildly sick.
After which Naruto called the participants back onto the field. Shikake wasn't present, of course—which obviously vexed Chouso, who was looking around, her brown eyes wide with worry. And Go'on made an entrance that was far flashier than he was comfortable with, since he had left the observation deck to watch the rest of the event with his mother.
He dove, arms spread, as if for flight, from the box, which was much higher up than the observation deck. The branches of a tree caught him, and perhaps it was a trick of the light, or the way that the branches rustled when he landed, but it almost seemed as if the tree itself reached up to embrace him. His features pinched with modest embarrassment at the applause he got for his stunt, and he joined the rest of the competitors with his shoulders hunched and his hands clasped together.
"One more round of applause for all of our participants, y'know!" Naruto called, and applause was given. Karai and Ichii waved spiritedly at the audience, at least, since the reactions of the other four were far more subdued.
After this, Naruto dismissed both the participants and the audience, though he held Karai and Inou behind.
"I'll go ahead and tell your family to wait for you at the arena gate, y'know," he said. "You guys rest up a bit and get those scratches healed. And, uh, have someone clean your face, Inou-kun, y'know."
"Thanks, Uncle Naruto," Karai said, leaning forward and giving him a hug. Naruto hugged her warmly back.
Inou said nothing.
And Naruto leaped off, to send his message.
The medics escorted Karai and Inou to the small medical room, cleaning them up and patching whatever minor scrapes and bumps they had without a word.
Midway through their work, however, Inou said something: "When you're done, could you leave my sister and me alone for a little while? I wanna talk to her."
The medics looked at each other. "Oh, uh, of course," one of them said. And, exactly as asked, once they were done, they gave the pair a congratulation and left them alone.
And after that, once he was certain they were gone, Inou stood away from the small cot where he'd been sitting, and he went to Karai, and grabbed her by the shoulders.
"Karai," he said, his voice shaking, "why did you do that?!"
"Do… what?" Karai replied.
"Don't play DUMB!" He shook her, once. "You know what you did!"
"But what, uh, did I do…?" Her voice was becoming very quiet.
"YOU THREW THE MATCH!" Inou lost control of his voice, almost cracking from the volume, as he let go and started waving his arms around. "You threw the freaking MATCH, Karai!"
"No, I didn't…" Karai was trying to smile, but there was too much fear in her eyes.
"Oh come ON. My technique didn't connect with you! You faked that I had possessed you!"
Her eyes slid downward, her imitation of a smile stretching into a prelude of a cry.
"Why did you DO that…?" he continued, far more softly.
"…because you needed to win more than I did, that's all," Karai said.
Inou slugged her on the shoulder, and even in his anger, it was not a strong blow. "You freaking IDIOT! So you gave up the fight! That means I didn't WIN!"
"Yes, you did. Everyone saw it."
"NO! You GAVE UP! It's NOT the SAME!" Inou was pacing a little, now, his eyes hot and wet.
"But you still won, Inou," Karai said.
"I DID NOT. WIN!" Inou shouted. "Karai, don't you freaking understand? You ruined EVERYTHING!"
"Inou, come on…" She stood. "You're just… overreacting, okay? I mean, they declared the win and it's official and stuff, it's not like they're going to take away your victory because of a loophole, I mean, I was allowed to surrender…"
"No! No! That's the THING!" Inou said. He was starting to grab at his hair, clutching it between his fingers, but not pulling. "What if DAD finds out?!"
"Inou, there's no way Dad could find out!" Karai said. "Besides, I can keep a secret! I'm not gonna tell him what I did, promise, I promise."
"No, no, no, no, you don't understand…" Inou was pacing in tight loops, now.
"Seriously, Inou, nobody's gonna make you tell." She approached him with her hands raised, arms stretched for a hug that she knew would be rejected.
"I'm not concerned about that! He's gonna find out, he's gonna find out, that's what's gonna happen, he's gonna find out what you did and he's going to kill us."
"Inou, I already told you," Karai said, an anxiety-reflex laugh in her voice, "Dad is not going to find out!"
"Oh, he'll find out, he always finds out…" Inou muttered, shaking his head, both hands now over his ears. "No, no, no, this is not happening…!"
Karai forced her hands onto his bandaged upper arms, there. "Inou, please, calm down… It's gonna be okay, Dad didn't notice anything, everything's going to be fine… Let's go home, okay? It'll be fine, I swear."
Inou inhaled sharply.
"We have mom and we have Hajime, it'll be okay. They're gonna be so proud of us, Inou." She took his hand. "Come on, let's go home."
Inou said nothing, his face so tight that his eyes looked almost closed.
But he went to her, and to where their family was waiting.