Kusuo had completely lost consciousness on the arena floor. He had burned through not only his chakra reserves but also every ounce of stamina left in his body. By the end, it wasn't even his own overexertion that ended the fight—it was a final strike from Kakashi that tipped him into unconsciousness.
The medical-nin stationed at the edge of the stage rushed forward immediately, green chakra glowing faintly as they pressed glowing palms to Kusuo's chest. The crowd hushed, watching every motion with tense anticipation.
Kakashi wasn't in much better condition—his body shuddered as he lay sprawled in the dust, but his eyes remained open.
"Both parties are down!" called out Hatake Sakumo, standing as solemn and sharp-eyed as ever. "But Kakashi remains conscious. By regulation…" His voice trailed into readiness, his hand lifting slightly as if to declare a victor.
And then Kakashi, still lying flat on his back, lifted a trembling hand.
"I give up," he muttered hoarsely.
Sakumo's brows furrowed. "What did you say?"
"I confirm it," Kakashi said, louder this time though his voice was still weak. "I admit defeat. Kusuo… forced me, a Chūnin, into this state. His strength is real. I'm convinced."
The coliseum went silent for half a beat.
Sakumo tilted his head slightly, eyeing his son with something between surprise and respect. "So you're certain? The boy lies unconscious. If he cannot rise in ten seconds, by rule, he loses."
"I'm certain," Kakashi answered firmly.
The decision sent a ripple of murmurs through the watching crowd. Even Obito and Rin, Kakashi's teammates, exchanged stunned glances. For so long, they had known him as aloof, cold, and dismissive. Now, in the middle of this high-stakes competition, he showed humility.
"Kakashi's character…" Rin whispered softly, her lips tugging into a rare smile.
"It's changed," Obito muttered, half-distrustful, half-proud.
From the stands, Shigure watched in silence, his eyes unreadable. Maybe he's finally starting to grow… he thought, though he didn't speak aloud.
The medics carried Kusuo away, and Sakumo called the next names aloud.
"The fifth match! Akimichi Dotonoki versus Hyūga Akane!"
Akane, the red-haired Hyūga girl known for her fierce determination, stiffened and looked towards Shigure.
The Akimichi boy on the other hand barely registered the announcement, still chewing lazily on a bag of potato chips. "Oh. Guess it's my turn," he muttered, brushing crumbs from his shirt.
Akane glanced briefly at Shigure, almost unconsciously searching for assurance.
"You'll win," Shigure said with quiet confidence. His voice was steady, matter-of-fact.
Something in his tone stirred in her chest. Akane's lips curved faintly into a smile, and she nodded.
Even so, Shigure furrowed his brow. He knew the Akimichi clan's reputation.
Destroyers in taijutsu. Their bodies can convert fat directly into raw chakra, turning themselves into rolling juggernauts. Even with Byakugan and Gentle Fist, it's not easy to counter that.
"Begin!"
Sakumo's word ignited the match.
Akane straightened, pale eyes flashing. "Byakugan!" Her vision widened, every tenketsu point of her opponent glowing like tiny stars.
Across from her, Dotonoki yawned and patted his round stomach. "Hyūga-chan, I'm telling you—you don't stand a chance. I'm hungry, and I'd rather end this quickly so I can finish my chips. Why don't you just give up?"
Akane's gaze sharpened. "How can we know the result if we don't fight?"
From the stands, Yamanaka Yuki cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hey, Tonki! Don't be rude!"
Beside her, Nara Kazu smirked with typical laziness. "Remember, Dotonoki, if you win, sensei promised us barbecue."
The Akimichi perked up instantly. "Barbecue? Say no more!" His round cheeks flushed with excitement. "Here I come! Human Bullet Tank!"
In an instant, his body inflated, compressing with chakra until he became a massive sphere. His arms and legs tucked in, and then he launched himself forward like a living boulder.
"Woah—!" the crowd gasped as the colossal form rolled across the stage.
But Akane was quick. With a graceful twist, she pushed off her heel and slipped past him. The rolling juggernaut thundered past and crashed against the stone wall with a deafening bang. Dust plumed into the air.
Yet he spun with surprising agility, bouncing off the wall and charging back. The sheer momentum threatened to flatten everything in his path.
There's no way to get close enough for Gentle Fist strikes while he's rolling like that…! Akane thought, dodging again, her chest rising and falling as sweat trickled down her forehead.
From within the whirlwind of motion, Dotonoki's muffled voice boomed. "You're running out of steam, Hyūga! One more! This'll finish it!"
The rolling sphere grew bigger still as his body expanded. "Multi-Size Human Bullet Tank!"
This time, Akane had no room to dodge. Her back was against the ring's edge. No escape.
But instead of panic, resolve crossed her face. She dropped into a firm stance, inhaled deeply, and whispered, "Shigure… I won't always be a burden."
As the massive Akimichi sphere surged toward her, she began to spin. Slowly at first, then faster, her chakra streaming outward from every tenketsu in her body. It poured swiftly into a revolving dome that surrounded her form.
The crowd froze in awe.
A perfect crystalline-blue sphere grew from that rotation, spinning so fast the air howled.
"Th—this is…!" Shigure's eyes widened in shock.
On the edge of the stands, Nara Kazu nearly dropped his jaw. "Impossible!" Yamanaka Yuki gasped.
"Her chakra is flowing from every tenketsu, creating a continuous shield!" Shigure whispered. "That's… Eight Trigrams: Rotation!"
The collision was catastrophic.
The Akimichi's rolling bulk slammed full-force into her barrier—and was immediately deflected away with incredible force. His body ricocheted up, slammed hard into the arena wall, and then fell limp.
"Ahhh—!" he screamed before collapsing unconscious.
The audience was dead silent, breathless… then exploded into cheers.
Hatake Sakumo raised his hand. "Winner: Hyūga Akane!"
From above, the Third Hokage leaned forward, his eyes twinkling in pride. "Remarkable. Rotation—a secret Hyūga technique, mastered by one so young. Even Neji, years later… hmm." He chuckled softly. "Uchiha Shigure certainly attracts geniuses around him."
Akane stepped from the ring, cheeks flushed but eyes truer than ever, and hurried back to Shigure. "So… how did I do?"
Shigure smiled at her, genuinely, for once letting admiration slip through his usual calm facade. "Not only did everyone underestimate you—I think you've underestimated yourself. You're more than capable, Akane. You're the Hyūga clan's genius girl."
Her face bloomed crimson at the praise, her lips parting ever so slightly. "As long as I can follow in your footsteps… I'll work even harder," she whispered.
Shigure nodded firmly. "Then let's do it together."
The next lots were drawn, and Sakumo's voice rang out again. "Sixth match: Nohara Rin versus Yamanaka Yuki!"
This battle unfolded unlike the last. Yuki wasted no time, her hands snapping into formation. "Mind Transfer Jutsu!"
Her consciousness surged into Rin's body. For a moment, it seemed like the match was over. But Rin's will was stubborn, her mind resisting fiercely. To sever Yuki's grip, Rin forced herself into sharp pain, slicing her palm with a kunai. The agony snapped Yuki's control instantly.
Sweat poured down Rin's brow, but she pushed on, countering with fluid strikes of wind-natured and fire-natured chakra. The first time Yuki faltered, Rin landed the decisive blow, knocking her dazed out of the ring.
"Rin! You did it!" Obito's exuberant cheers echoed through the arena. Rin glanced shyly toward Kakashi, searching his face for even the smallest nod of acknowledgement.
Finally, Sakumo called the seventh match, the penultimate duel.
"The seventh match: Yūhi Kurenai versus… Violet."
But when the bout began, the two kunoichi simply stared across the stage at one another. Seconds stretched. Neither moved an inch.
The spectators blinked, dull confusion rolling across the audience. Both combatants remained frozen like statues, locked in place.
It took only a careful glance for the experienced jōnin in the crowd to catch on.
"They've both cast illusions," Sarutobi Hiruzen murmured, stroking his beard.
The fight was an invisible clash—one unfolding entirely in the realm of genjutsu.
And already, the trap was closing on one side.
--
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