The Special Jounin Combat Test—which occurred after the paper test and the test for excellence in whatever subject the chuunin was officially earning the promotion for—had three rounds.

The first was the oddest.

The doors into the arena—empty, except for the dirt that made up its floor—was opened to allow all who passed the previous rounds (in this case eight ninja, all of them battle-ready) in.

And then they closed.

They would reopen again in an hour to allow the participants a way out so the arena could be prepped for the second portion, but in the meantime, there wasn't technically anything the combatants were 'supposed' to do besides not leave the arena or kill themselves or anyone else.

If one wanted, they could, in theory, just take a comfortable seat and wait.

In reality, the other combatants tended to want to 'soften' their competition a bit too much to let anyone just sit out.

This time, though, most opponents seemed content to just resort to smaller attacks, to forcing the others in the arena to show what they had, to mark out their chances against the people they were stuck with for the rest of the day.

Sakura spent the time doing the same, figuring out how well Shin compared to his peers.

In terms of age, his seventeen-year-old form was probably just barely younger than the average contestant—most looked to be in their early twenties, an administrative chuunin Sakura recognized might have been as old as thirty, and the youngest by far was the twelve-year-old who paced the arena in a wide arc, Namikaze Minato. Sakura recognized him from her genin-watching during the war—he must have gotten a promotion in the interim.

The stands themselves were filled with the families and friends of the combatants as well as anyone chuunin ranked or higher—occasionally others would slip in, genin or Academy students or even significant others on dates, but even then, they had to claim relation to one of the combatants—and have the combatant agree.

Which wasn't always easy.

Sakura eyed them, too, trying to see if they'd grant any headway to determining what each of her best friend's opponent's specialties would be.

The only thing she knew— the only thing he knew— was that the special jounin exam promotion was never given for a strict combat specialty. Unfortunately, it was entirely possible for just about every other specialty to qualify: "diplomacy," like Shin, poisons, interrogation, genjutsu— if it was a skill that could be feasibly used outside of combat, it qualified.

The hour finished with only minor scuffles and very little to show how the participants were uniquely dangerous.

The arena cleared, and Sakura took Ibiki on a walk to stretch his legs. There wasn't much in the hallway—the whole purpose was to get people to the stands—but then Ibiki didn't need anything specific to entertain himself; running around was plenty entertaining on its own. As he spent his energy, Sakura nodded at one of the ever-present sensors; she'd worked with him in the past, and knew he prescribed to the belief that while at work, any and all conversations should be avoided.

By the time Ibiki was ready to sit again and they reentered the stands, a clay hut with a thatched roof had been situated in the middle of the dirt.

It was time for round two: group combat.

The participants would be split into random groups of four and then spend turns, one hour each, attempting to either attack or defend the hut and the flag that lay within.

Shin was placed alongside the oldest man and two others Sakura didn't recognize— they didn't look clan either, so it really turned out best: these were the opponents Shin would know least about, and they were all now incentivized to willingly share at least some of their fighting style so the team as a whole would better perform in the second portion.

The second had an Uchiha and Shimura, a woman she couldn't get a read on, and Namikaze. As she watched him, the niggling thought in the back of her mind finally formed: wasn't he apprenticed to Jiraiya?

Before she could think on it any longer, the first fight—with Shin defending—began.

A full hour for an assault was an exhausting hypothetical, its reality even worse, and given that it would have to be repeated all over again mere minutes afterward…

The first half hour was marked by tentative jabs, tests of the defense, and, primarily, a long wait.

Ibiki grew restless, upset at the lack of action, and Sakura brought out his snacks.

The Uchiha ran in alone, ignoring the protests of her teammates, and was summarily rebuffed—she'd tried to use her fire to keep Shin from being able to get a hold of her shadow, but another combatant lashed out with a series of what looked like kunai and forced the Uchiha to the backstep.

By that point, however, her teammates had caught up: Namikaze pushed forward a wall of wind, reversing the momentum of the weapons, while the other two matched the Uchiha's fire with their own.

Focused as they were on keeping away the ranged weapons, they didn't notice Shin gesturing to another defender and her responding nod— the dirt around the attackers shifted and tried to capture them (a very high-level jutsu indeed), and they were forced to leap out of the way, racing to outpace the rumbling of the ground.

In heartbeats, it became clear that only one of them had actually been targeted, however: a lasso of ninja wire that had been hidden in the dirt was now wrapped around the tween's legs, and Shin wasted no time using the narrow shadow to his advantage, trapping his opponent in position and preventing him from using his hands to sign any more wind jutsu.

The long-ranged defender stepped out from the earthen barrier that had been erected earlier, intending to take advantage as two of his teammates kept the other three busy with earth jutsu and straight taijutsu, but when the first of her missiles were mere meters from incapacitating Namikaze he spit wind, shoving the blade away at the last moment.

It was not nearly as powerful as his last attack, that was true, but it could be done without hand signs, and controlling even the jaw through shadow took too much effort to expel in this round: Sakura and Juro winced as those supporting Shin's opponents cheered.

A chucked kunai that lopped off the ninja wire made the situation even worse, and the taijutsu fighter that had been helping the earth jutsu user was simultaneously burned—badly—by the Uchiha, her red eyes spinning and spinning while her Shimura teammate watched her back.

Shin and his teammates fell back, moved to guard the literal doors of the hut as it became clear that no one against them had earth jutsu to go through the floor.

It was yet another mistake: in a flicker, Namikaze was far above the roof, literally leaping down as the Uchiha targeted the thatch to burn.

Shin tried one last response—a final capture of Namikaze's shadow—but the youngest's flashiness had multiple purposes: as everyone focused on him and the Uchiha, the woman Sakura didn't recognize flickered straight to the flag using the eyeline made available by the new lack of roof. All three of her teammates immediately forced a way to the edge of the arena—the final barrier to winning—and in seconds, it was over.

It was only the second round, Sakura knew; none were going all out, wanting to keep some secrets in reserve for the third, but it still felt…

As they fought, she'd imagined, seen, come up with twenty or thirty things she thought they should have done instead.

And yet.

Shin's role as attacker was even shorter—the earth jutsu user's advantage could be beat, but not easily, and apparently, the whole group decided as one not to waste the effort, not when the third round counted so much more than any before it.

After a half-hour break, it was time for that third round to start: the individual tournament.

Shin's first match was against his former teammate who had, so far, only shown taijutsu, and it quickly became clear why: she was a genjutsu expert.

Against an Uchiha with a sharingan? Almost useless.

Against Shin?

He won, used his superior strategic practice to his advantage, but it was a close thing— if he wasn't so used to stopping and working against genjutsu (a requirement for Diplomacy), then the fight would have been over in less than a minute.

His second round was against Namikaze.

"Look how little he is!" Ibiki said, standing on his seat and leaning on Juro's shoulder to get a better view.

"Dangerous, though."

Juro and Ibiki turned to peer at her—her tone, apparently, had made it clear she wasn't just talking about the wind.

"He's apprenticed under Jiraiya." Sakura said. "Battle fuinjutsu, I guarantee it."

Juro winced. Ibiki, despite not clearly understanding why, copied him.

Below them Shin twitched as he waited for the call to begin. Namikaze seemed far calmer—he was clearly aware of the tactics of the Nara and was further aware that Shin wasn't even close to a combat veteran.

The battle Shin was about to fight was blatantly uphill.

At least, Sakura consoled herself, he didn't have to win. The 'special' in special jounin was code for 'non-combat', after all.

Still, with the crowd? With the youth of his opponent?

Shin wanted to win, she knew, and he would do just about anything to do so.

The referee shouted, and the two flew at each other.

Ibiki, who had spent the day varying wildly between boredom and edge-of-his-seat excitement, now bounced up and down as he leaned against Juro, mimicking the emotions of those surrounding him.

Shin, after a first test jab, settled into a defensive stance.

Then the fight truly began.

The battle was a game of cat and mouse, a constant chase without pause where hesitation would be deadly. Minato strived to tire Shin out, recognizing that it was one of the greatest differences between the two.

Shin had recognized that too. He'd been smart about it in his months preparing, had practiced and practiced and practiced minimizing effort, had set aside stamina training for two hours every day, and spent most of them running.

Minato realized quickly that tiring Shin out would take too long; it could be done, but not in the confines of the exam, not easily. He turned, then, grabbed something out of his pocket, and threw.

It was a seal.

It sat, charging in mere seconds, and the watchers gasped.

Fuinjutsu—combat fuinjutsu—was rare, and treated with more awe than any other skill. It typically saw its user shoot up one, two, or even three ranks in BINGO books—Sakura wasn't in one yet, hadn't been noticed, but no doubt she would be ranked far more likely than she considered accurate if and when she was.

The piece of paper, then, was the most dangerous opponent most could face.

In Shin's case, it created a different reaction.

Shin, after all, had spent the past months fighting not just Juro but Sakura.

And Sakura, realizing quickly that it was the best way to pose a challenge, relied heavily on combat jutsu.

As he'd practiced, as they'd fought spar after spar and risked significant injury because Juro was there to patch them up, he'd learned the best way to fight the most common—and even uncommon—of Sakura's tags.

None that she used were unique. She'd realized years ago that she didn't have the talent to create new tags—Arden's world didn't translate any benefit there— but she was still a Researcher, was still surrounded by seals every day.

Shin had been faced with just about every seal Sakura could find use for, had learned their lines and curves.

From her position, Sakura couldn't see what was written.

From his Shin clearly saw enough.

Rather than fleeing— with exploding tags being the most common that was the traditional response—he leapt forward, kicked it straight at Minato's face.

Minato's countenance betrayed his surprise, his fear, but he couldn't get out of the way in time.

That Shin had apparently risked a longer charge time for an exploding tag—that he'd apparently been successful—had left the bleachers empty as everyone leapt to their feet.

And then the tag began to glow.

Bright, so bright, it took no time to realize the point of the paper: positioned as it had been, it would have allowed Minato to attack Shin for a short period without risk of the bloodline.

Positioned as it was now, just above Minato's face, it accomplished two goals: it blinded the blond and lengthened his shadow to an incredible degree.

Shin took full advantage.

Seconds later, the two opponents stared at each other in shock as a line of blood dribbled down Minato's neck.

The crowd stood as silent as the combatants below.

The fight had had every sign of lasting for a while, for a few minutes at least, possibly even for the full half-hour each match was stopped at—

And it was over.

The "killing blow" had been struck.

The watchers stood, agog, as the two fighters stared at each other.

"I… won?"

Namikaze smirked. "You won."

"Well then." Shin… well, he'd never been one for over-the-top reactions anyway.

The crowd erupted.

The final battle, while less surprising than the one before, barely lasted longer: Shin's opponent was the ranged poison user, and that was not an opponent he'd had nearly enough practice facing; two minutes in, and he conceded, having been hit by a dart with a red arrow—the code for the fast-acting killing poison his opponent could have used but didn't.

And then it was over.

As the crowd dispersed to the rooms below to visit their loved ones in the medical rooms—all of them were required to be there for the rest of the day if they wanted a chance to get promoted—Sakura, Ibiki, Juro, and the rest of Shin's family joined them.

Shin, in the end, was easy to find—he was talking to his youngest combatant, who was easily visible due to his only visible guest: Jiraiya.

"—lots of training against it, but still: if I hadn't already known you practiced combat fuinjutsu…."

"Hey Shin!"

"Sakura! Come over here! The rest of you, too! Guys, these are my genin teammates Sakura and Juro, my godson Ibiki, and my parents. My sister, brother-in-law, and nephews couldn't make it."

"Pleased to meet you all." Minato—and when had she started thinking of him by his first name?—said. He had a very charming smile, and Sakura could see how he'd managed to get so (comparatively) well-known at such a young age. He turned to her then: "Shin was telling me you do combat fuinjutsu?"

Sakura shrugged. "Only in practice: I started using it to help Shin train."

His grin didn't recede. "Well, it's still good to meet another practitioner. And you, Ibiki—are you going to join your—" a quick flick of the eyes to Shin, a quick hand signal—"godmother and I in fuinjutsu?"

Ibiki nodded firmly. "I'm going to do everything."

Minato grinned. "I'm doing the same."

This caught the toddler's attention: all of the adults he met seemed to have specialized far more than he, so far, wanted to. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'm an orphan too, you know, and I got kind of bored of people saying I couldn't do this or that—so I decided to prove that I could do anything."

Jiraiya—an orphan himself, Sakura knew—snorted. Sakura grinned. Ibiki, wide-eyed and in awe, dove forward, yanking out of Juro's grip and grabbing Minato's hand instead.

"Really?" He asked again.

Minato's smile, if anything, grew, and he knelt in front of the four-year-old. "Yeah. You starting the Academy soon?"

Rapid nodding. "Tomorrow."

"Cool." Minato grinned. "Make friends, okay? That's what's most important. Find people who can help you, people you can help to better learn whatever you're helping with. There will always be someone who knows something you know, who can do something you can't—yet—do. The more people you know, the more people you're friendly with, the larger your support system, to lift you up and make you great."

Ibiki—Ibiki, who could be a bit too mean-spirited, a bit too abrasive—looked at Minato like he was a God and agreed without hesitation.

Sakura breathed a sigh of relief—despite their best efforts, chinmoku had still foreseen that he might end up a bully like so many others in previous classes, and now it seemed the four-year-old had been given a reason that he found acceptable not to go down that route.

…Immediately, anyway.

Shin, in the meantime, was flexing his arm—his tendon had been cut in the last fight, and it would take at least two weeks to fully heal.

Jiraiya stood behind them all, smiling at his mentee and the tiny child he was talking to.

Sakura quite liked Jiraiya, actually.

He didn't come across the best in Arden's memories, it was true, but her measure of the man in this reality had been quite positive: his fuinjutsu work was more or less the only major expansion since the destruction of Uzu, and popular opinion was that when he was in battle, he tended to do his best to take the brunt of the damage, protect his fellow shinobi more than many others of almost equivalent skill.

Orochimaru, while her interactions with him had been so far positive, had occasioned no such opinions from those he fought beside.

He noticed her looking as Minato, taken with the hero worship, settled onto the ground and began to describe his own first year, utterly ignoring the adults and teenagers around him.

"Yamanaka Sakura? Researcher, right?"

"Yes, Jiraiya." She said. She didn't even know if he had a second name, and if he did, he certainly made no effort to propagate it.

He grinned. "Shin's talked about you before." Sakura didn't react as she learned that Shin had not only talked about her but done it to Jiraiya—Shin certainly hadn't mentioned meeting the Sannin before. Still, she rather suspected he wanted a reaction, so she kept her countenance open, but fixed. After a second, he continued. "Hokage, too."

Sakura nodded. "I hope the talks were positive."

The edges of Jiraiya's lips twitched down—he clearly felt bereft of a more visible response—then nodded himself. "Yeah, actually. Orochimaru too—I seem to be hearing about you from everywhere. So, what have you been up to recently?"

That… was not an easy question to answer. She gave a self-deprecating shrug. "Not much at the moment, I'm afraid." She glanced at Ibiki in explanation then, seeking to move the topic off of her so she could take in what Jiraiya had already divulged, shifted to bring attention to Juro. "Juro's recently been promoted in-hospital, though."

"Oh?" Jiraiya said, more polite than interested but still willing to accept the shift in conversation.

Juro nodded. "I'm now solo in the pediatrics ward."

"Pediatrics?"

"Got tired of dealing with shinobi who sneak out of my care whenever they can. Children are far less likely to do that… not that the shinobi kids don't try."

Jiraiya snorted. "Yeah, can't say I much enjoy a medic's attention myself. It's all good, though—Oro does most of my care."

"Let me guess, you still make sure that care is as short term as possible?"

"We've had some arguments, yes."

Shin's parents, half asleep even as they smiled and nodded along with the conversations that were happening around them, suddenly twitched, catching Ibiki as he flew back toward them.

Everyone else's eyes snapped to Minato, who had a more than slightly embarrassed expression on his face. Ibiki, too, seemed fine: enthused, even, by his short trip through the air. No danger, then.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm really sorry. It was just a D-rank wind jutsu, because he asked what it felt like, but I didn't take into account his small size."

Juro bent down, checking over Ibiki, then nodded at the rest of chinmoku. "He's fine."

Ibiki squirmed out of his grip. "Again!"

"Sorry, Ibiki, we need to get home. It's late, and we have the Academy tomorrow."

Ibiki stared at Shin's face for several seconds, then turned to observe his other godparents and Shin's parents too. Realizing that none disagreed, his face screwed up, and Sakura sighed: it was time for a tantrum, and she sincerely doubted he'd be so kind as to wait until they were outside the throng of people to begin.