The Hokage's Residence. An hour ago.
The office was drowning in thick clouds of tobacco smoke. The air was stale, heavy, saturated with tension that made the windowpanes vibrate.
Anko Mitarashi stood before the desk, gripping the edge of the tabletop. Her face was pale, covered in sweat—the Cursed Seal on her neck resonated, responding with phantom pain to its creator's presence.
"You must cancel the exam, Hokage-sama!" her voice cracked into a shout. "It was Orochimaru! He didn't just pass by. He attacked Genin. He left a mark on the Uchiha. We let a wolf into the sheepfold!"
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat in his chair, turned toward the window. He looked at the village bathed in a blood-red sunset. His profile resembled a bas-relief carved from stone—hard, old, impenetrable.
"We cannot," he finally said.
Anko choked on air.
"What?! This is an S-rank threat! People could die! We are obligated to act!"
Hiruzen turned slowly. There was none of the usual grandfatherly warmth in his eyes. Only the cold calculation of a military ruler.
"Anko," his voice was quiet but heavy as a gravestone. "Right now, the village hosts feudal lords, clients, and the Kazekage. The Chunin Exam is not a children's matinee. It is a market. We are selling power. Selling security."
He tapped his pipe on the table, knocking out the ash.
"If we interrupt the exam because of rumors about a single man's intrusion... Konoha will show fear. And fear is blood in the water for sharks. Iwa, Kumo, Kiri, Suna—they are just waiting for a sign of weakness."
"But..."
"ANBU will reinforce the perimeter. Jonin will go on high alert. But the show must go on." Hiruzen stood, putting a period on the conversation. "Orochimaru has already left. He made his move. Now it is our move—to show that this did not break us."
Anko gritted her teeth, tasting the bitterness of helplessness.
"Understood... Hokage-sama."
***
Forest of Death Tower. Infirmary. Current time.
Beyond the walls, the voices of arriving teams buzzed, but here reigned a heavy silence smelling of rubbing alcohol and iodine.
Naruto sat on a cot, allowing a medic to treat minor abrasions. He was calm. Qi had already repaired his internal damage; only a dull heaviness remained in his bones—the price for overloading on borrowed power.
Karin sat in the corner, hugging her knees. She didn't take her eyes off the adjacent bed where Sasuke lay.
As a sensor, she "saw" too much. The Uchiha's chakra had changed. Before, it was simply cold, unpleasant. Now, with that activated mark, it felt like viscous, poisonous sludge.
The same... the Uzumaki trembled. The energy of that monster from the forest. It's contagious. It's... evil.
Sasuke lay with his eyes closed. The medics thought he was still unconscious.
But he wasn't asleep.
He listened to the whispers of the nurses in the corridor.
"...Did you hear?" one whispered. "Team 7. They say they ran into something monstrous."
"Yeah," another answered. "And you know what? The Uchiha... they say he was just dead weight."
"Seriously? From the elite clan?"
"Uh-huh. All the dirty work was done by that blonde, the Jinchūriki. He fought, commanded. He even carried the Uchiha on his back all the way to the tower. If not for him, that 'genius' would already be feeding worms."
The words fell into his consciousness like drops of molten metal.
Dead weight... I was carried... Naruto saved me... Again.
The Cursed Seal responded to the humiliation. It pulsed with heat, whispering sweet, poisonous promises: You need power. So take it. Show them. Kill them all.
The door opened. Kakashi entered.
"Sasuke," the Jonin's voice was serious. "I know you're awake. We are pulling you from the exam. You need to have the mark sealed."
Sasuke sat up abruptly. His face was pale, covered in sweat, but his eyes burned with fanatical fire.
"No."
"It's not a request," Hatake stepped toward him. "You are unstable."
"I SAID NO!" Sasuke threw off the blanket. "I'm not leaving! I will fight! I have to prove..."
"To whom?" Naruto asked calmly from his cot.
The Uchiha shot him a look full of pure rage.
"To you. To them. To everyone. I am not dead weight, Naruto. And I will make you choke on those words."
Kakashi frowned, preparing to use force.
"Sensei," Naruto stood up, adjusting his jacket. "Let him go."
"Naruto, you don't understand the risk..."
"I understand," Uzumaki interrupted. "He is a ticking time bomb right now. If you lock him in a ward, he will explode. Or run to the one who gave him this power. He needs to vent the poison. Here. Under supervision."
The cultivator looked his partner straight in the eye.
"And if he loses control... I will stop him. Again."
That calm "again" hit the Uchiha's pride harder than any jutsu.
***
Preliminary Arena.
The huge hall with high ceilings and a stone floor was packed. The surviving teams lined up. The Hokage, Jonin, proctors—everyone watched them.
The doors opened, and Team 7 entered.
A whisper ran through the hall. Genin from other teams instinctively recoiled.
These three looked different.
They were dirty, their clothes torn and soaked in dried blood. But it wasn't the dirt. A heavy, oppressive aura radiated from them—the aura of people who had looked death in the eye and spat in its face. Compared to them, the other participants seemed to have gone through no trial at all.
Naruto joined the formation, crossing his arms. He activated Qi Sensory, scanning the hall.
His perception had changed.
Before, in the Academy, Gaara seemed like a black hole to him, and Neji—a dangerous blade.
Now, after withstanding the pressure of Orochimaru—a creature whose malice seemed endless as the ocean—these "monsters" looked... petty.
Naruto looked at Neji Hyuga.
Strong. Technical. But just a talented child. Power has limits. Just a human.
A glance at Gaara.
Tailed Beast... But the vessel is weak. Doesn't control the power, barely contains the beast. Compared to that snake thing, this is at least understandable.
The weary assessment of a veteran returned from the front to boot camp.
Hayate Gekkō, the proctor with the perpetual cough and bags under his eyes, stepped forward.
"Before we begin... Is there anyone who wants to withdraw? Now is the time. There will be no turning back later."
A hand shot into the air almost instantly.
"Me," came the calm voice of Kabuto Yakushi.
Silence. Gazes crossed on the spy.
"Sorry," Kabuto adjusted his glasses, feigning a guilty smile. "My left ear barely hears after a clash in the forest, and my chakra is at zero. I'm at my limit. Don't want to risk my life in this state."
Naruto's expression didn't change. He looked at the "tired" Kabuto with a cold, scanning gaze. His sensory perception saw the truth: Kabuto's channels were full, his aura—stable and dangerous. No exhaustion whatsoever.
Running, the blonde noted indifferently to himself. Gathered information and retreating into the shadows. Typical rat.
He didn't say anything. He was indifferent to Kabuto as long as he didn't interfere.
Hayate nodded. Kabuto bowed and left, casting a quick, unreadable glance at Naruto, which was ignored.
"Cough-cough... Time is short. Too many participants. We begin the preliminary matches. Attention to the board."
The electronic panel on the wall came to life. Names flickered, replacing each other at breakneck speed.
Sasuke's heart pounded in his throat, drowning out all sounds. The Seal burned his neck.
Give me someone. Anyone. I must erase this shame. Must show my power.
The names froze.
SASUKE UCHIHA vs NARUTO UZUMAKI
Silence in the hall became absolute.
Sakura pressed her palms to her mouth, suppressing a scream. Ino and Shikamaru exchanged glances.
Kakashi on the upper balcony closed his eye. Irony of fate... or inevitability?
Sasuke stared at the board. For a second, he didn't believe his eyes.
And then his shoulders began to shake.
A sound tore from his throat—hoarse, barking, frightening.
"Ha... Ha-ha-ha..."
Not a laugh of joy. The laugh of a man on the edge of a precipice who was suddenly given wings. The laugh of a madman who got exactly what his blackened soul craved.
He slowly turned to his teammate. On a face distorted by shadow and pain, a predatory smile played.
"Finally," the Uchiha whispered. "No bears. No monsters. No obstacles. Just you and me."
He stepped forward, ignoring the trembling in his body.
"I will wipe that eternally calm expression off your face, Naruto. I'll show who the real genius is here, and who is just a lucky idiot who thinks he's better."
Naruto looked at him.
In his blue eyes, there was neither fear nor the thrill of rivalry. Only bottomless, adult weariness. It was the way one looks at a sick, violent relative who needs to be sedated for their own good.
"Fine," the blonde answered calmly. His voice was quiet, but in the silence of the hall, it sounded like a gong strike. "If this is the only way to bring you to your senses... let's end this."
"Everyone else—leave the arena!" Hayate commanded.
Sakura cast one last, terror-filled look at them and ran to the stairs.
The Sasuke she knew—the cold, collected genius—was vanishing before her eyes, giving way to something dark and frightening. She didn't know who to root for. She feared for Sasuke, whom the Seal was devouring. And she feared for Naruto, who this time might not be able to end the fight so simply.
Just don't cripple each other... raced through her head. Please, just both be okay.
Kakashi tensed, ready to intervene at any second if something went wrong.
Two Genin remained in the center of the stone hall.
One—trembling with dark energy and anticipation, with a glowing Sharingan.
The second—motionless as a rock, in black clothes, with cold resolve in his eyes.
Hayate raised his hand.
"First match. Begin!"