Gaara's pale eyes followed Temari as she climbed the staircase, one hand pressed to the side of her head, a faint trickle of blood staining the curve of her ear. Her steps were steady, but her face betrayed the exhaustion of her last summoning.
"It's good that you went all out," Gaara said quietly, his voice as calm and chilling as desert wind at midnight.
"Mm!" Temari nodded faintly, a flicker of pride crossing her features.
"Temari!" Kankurō's sharp voice called from behind.
She turned, her fan still resting across her shoulder. "Mm?"
"Hurry over," Kankurō urged, his tone impatient. "It's your next opponent's match."
Temari's expression shifted, curiosity sparking in her eyes. She adjusted her stance and walked toward the balcony overlooking the battlefield.
The noise of the crowd swelled as she leaned on the railing, her sharp gaze locking on the two figures below.
Genma flicked his eyes across the arena, the senbon between his teeth shifting slightly.
"Third match," He called out, "begin!"
Sakura instantly leapt backward, widening the distance between her and Shikamaru. Her sharp eyes never left him.
'He uses shadows… I've seen it. I need to keep out of his range. Mid-distance, that's my best chance.'
On the opposite side, Shikamaru let out a soft sigh, shoulders drooping. 'So defensive right from the start. What a drag…'
Sakura's hands moved quickly, slipping into her pouch and drawing three kunai. With a flick of her wrist, she hurled them toward him.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
"Troublesome…" Shikamaru muttered, twisting and ducking out of the kunai's path.
The blades clattered against stone, sparks flying.
'He's good at running,' Sakura noted with irritation.
"Clone Jutsu!"
Poof! Poof! Poof!
Her lips pressed thin, and then three identical Sakura figures burst into existence, sprinting toward Shikamaru with fierce determination.
Shikamaru's mouth twitched downward. 'As if one headache wasn't enough… now she's tripled it'.
With a flick of his wrist, three kunai flew from his hand.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Poof! Poof! Poof!
The clones dissolved in bursts of smoke, curling around him like mist. Shikamaru narrowed his eyes, just in time to realize something was off.
Now! Sakura's fingers locked together in a seal, her green eyes glinting with focus. 'Genjutsu—Eternal Thousand Miles of Peach Blossom!'
The battlefield vanished.
Shikamaru's breath caught, and all around him, the world was washed in pink. Endless peach blossoms stretched across the horizon, their petals falling like snow. The air was perfumed, serene, unreal.
"A genjutsu, huh?" Shikamaru murmured, unimpressed as he turned his head slowly, hands still buried in his pockets. 'She's trying to buy time, create an opening. But illusions are just… illusions.'
He straightened, his voice cutting sharply through the dreamlike haze. "Release!"
Whoosh!
The blossoms shattered like glass, and reality rushed back: the roar of the crowd, the blinding sun, the harsh stone underfoot.
Sakura was there, charging at him with fire in her eyes, a kunai raised just a meter away.
"Shit!" Shikamaru hissed, raising his hands at the last possible moment. His fingers snapped into the familiar sign.
'Hidden Jutsu—Yin Release: Shadow Possession Jutsu!'
Shua!
His shadow darted forward like a living snake, catching hers at the very edge of its reach.
Sakura froze mid-step, her body snapping to a halt, eyes wide in disbelief.
"You…" Her voice trembled, shock plain across her face.
"Give up." Shikamaru's voice was calm, almost casual, as if the outcome had been decided the moment the match began.
Up above, the spectators buzzed with energy.
"Impossible... He broke out of her illusion!" One man shouted.
"Shadow ninjutsu's insane… he caught her with a single move!" Another added.
In the waiting room, Ino slammed her palms against the railing. "YES! That's it, Shikamaru!"
Her voice carried across the arena, shrill with excitement.
On the battlefield, Sakura's chest rose and fell. Her lips pressed together, her kunai trembling in her locked grip. 'Damn it… He's really intelligent. I underestimated him.'
"Mm." Her shoulders loosened.
It was faint, almost reluctant, but it was enough.
Genma stepped forward, his voice carrying finality. "Are you giving up?"
"Yes," Sakura admitted, bowing her head ever so slightly.
Genma raised his hand. "Winner of the third match—Nara Shikamaru!"
"HE DID IT!" Ino screamed at the top of her lungs, pumping both fists in the air.
The crowd exploded into cheers, stomps, and applause.
Choji, sitting calmly beside her, continued crunching through his chips without lifting his eyes.
"Frankly," He mumbled between bites, "I'm surprised."
"Hah?!" Ino snapped, whirling toward him with a glare. "What do you mean by that?!"
Genma's gaze shifted back to Shikamaru, who stood relaxed with his hands back in his pockets, as if he hadn't just been in a fight. "Do you want to continue into the next match right now?"
Shikamaru gave a languid shrug. "I'll need ten minutes. Troublesome if I don't rest."
Genma nodded. "All right. Ten minutes."
With the crowd still chanting his name, Shikamaru turned lazily and made his way back toward the waiting room, his shadow trailing behind him like a banner of victory.
------
Ten minutes ticked by in silence, broken only by the murmurs of the crowd.
Finally, Temari stepped forward, her fan snapping open with a practiced flick.
"I'm ready!" She declared, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Good luck!" Kankurō called, leaning forward with a grin.
Whoosh!
A violent gust erupted as Temari swung her fan, the force so sharp that the air itself seemed to cut. The dust whirled across the arena in a spiraling wave, causing some spectators to shield their eyes. Then, with graceful ease, she rode the current, her body lifted effortlessly. In a blink, she descended and landed next to Genma, the fan folding with a confident snap against her shoulder.
"It seems that you are really fired up about the next match," Genma commented, his voice carrying that easy, unbothered drawl of his. Then his gaze turned upward toward the balcony. "Hey, the last one, come down!"
He waited a moment, then tapped his senbon against his teeth.
"Ten minutes are already over," Genma warned.
On the balcony, Shikamaru sighed so deeply it seemed to drain his entire soul. His shoulders slumped.
'Why me...?' He thought bitterly, dragging his feet toward the edge.
Just as he leaned over, a soft hand pressed against his back.
"Huh?" Shikamaru blinked in surprise, tilting his head, only to find Sakura's face suddenly beside his shoulder. Her eyes sparkled with an unsettling mix of cheer and menace.
"Sakura?" He muttered cautiously.
Her lips curled into a smile, but it wasn't sweet.
It was the smile of someone enjoying far too much power.
"SHI–KA–MA–RU!" She enunciated, each syllable ringing like a hammer striking an anvil.
A shiver ran down his spine.
"What... is... it...?" He asked, his tone half-resigned, half-fearful.
"Fight ON!" Sakura chirped brightly and shoved him with both hands.
"Wha—?! Wait, wait, waaaaaaahhh!!"
Shikamaru's scream echoed across the stadium as his body tumbled through the air, limbs flailing in the most ungraceful of descents.
Bang!
He hit the arena floor flat on his back, a puff of dust rising around him. For a moment, he just lay there, staring straight up, his eyes glazed with disbelief. From above, Sakura's innocent smile beamed down at him, though in his mind it carried the terrifying aura of a demon goddess.
"...Damn that Sakura..." He groaned, dragging a hand across his face as the crowd erupted in laughter and cheers.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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