Super Ninja

A conversation with Kabuto about why his team withdrew didn't provide any clear or understandable answers. He kept dodging my questions.

"So, why, Kabuto?" I asked. "I still don't understand why you decided against team battles. You'll be disqualified and have to take the Chūnin exam again next year."

"You know, Suzuki," he began, adjusting his glasses with a slight smile. "I thought about it and realized this year isn't for me. I trust my instincts, and they're telling me not to push it right now. Maybe next year will be different."

"Tch," I rolled my eyes and glanced at his teammates. "And you're okay with this?"

"We trust Kabuto," Akado replied calmly.

"Fine," I sighed. "Do as you like. Thanks for bowing out and not giving my team a chance to showcase its abilities."

"No problem, Suzuki," Kabuto smiled.

When I returned to the room, I opened one of the books Captain Kiochi had bought for me. It was about the traditions of the other Elemental Nations. He hadn't refused my request, so I had the chance to read a little and mentally unwind from everything happening around me.

I also spent a lot of time on physical training, avoiding leaving the hotel room. I didn't want anyone observing my sessions. For some reason, I felt certain that stepping outside would draw the watchful eyes of others, which I didn't need if I wanted to win.

Shiko and Ayamane gladly handed over their weights to me before disappearing for days. They weren't training—this was obvious from the state they were in when they returned. By the time they came back, I was usually wrapping up my training, so I didn't bother or interfere much. Meditation and control exercises, after all, could be done in any position.

"Sensei," I addressed Captain Kiochi during training. He was sitting on my back to add more weight as I did push-ups, trying to beat my previous record without using a drop of chakra.

"Yes, Suzuki?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. I felt the shift in weight and had to strain to avoid face-planting into the wooden floor.

"Why don't you make Shiko and Ayamane train?" I asked. "Their chances are decreasing every day."

"It's simple, Suzuki," the captain sighed. "We are all responsible for our own happiness. I can't force them to train—they're no longer children. They're adult kunoichi now. After this exam, our team will likely disband. Shiko and Ayamane know they have to train on their own if they want to reach new heights."

"Got it," I nodded. "By the way, why do you think our team will disband?"

"It often happens when only one member of the team becomes a Chūnin, while the others don't," he shrugged. I felt the movement through my shoulders as well. "Rarely does a captain stay with the two remaining Genin. They're usually reassigned to a new team with another Genin."

"Understood," I nodded again and slowly lowered myself. As I pushed off the floor, I exhaled. "Hooof."

"Come on, five more," the captain said. "Don't slack off."

"Yes, sir," I replied.

After such training, I always stretched, which had a surprisingly positive effect on my chakra channels. It warmed and stretched them slightly, leaving me feeling comfortable, especially if I followed it with a hot bath, collapsed onto the bed, and meditated to refine control. This routine helped me grow not only physically but also improve my chakra. Overall, I was making steady progress.

The natural energy I trained with in the evenings acted as a catalyst, enabling me to recover overnight and make significant developmental strides. While Shiko and Ayamane spent their time on leisure, I focused on rigorous training. I was completely certain that my dedication would only benefit me.

A few days before the final exam, guests began arriving. Visitors from various nations—merchants, entertainers, and others—flooded the area. Among them were scouts from countries that hadn't sent their Genin to this Chūnin Exam. They remained hidden, which made sense, as revealing their presence could attract unwanted attention.

The streets grew livelier, and the number of gondolas on the canals increased, offering locals opportunities to earn considerably more income. Hotel prices and rental rates tripled because everyone understood how rare such events were. The occasion would see the presence of the Hokage, the Raikage, and the local Kage. Additionally, representatives from daimyo palaces, elite members of large trade guilds, influential houses, and other prominent groups were expected to attend. It was truly an extraordinary event.

For Shiko and Ayamane, this was the perfect chance to shop for trinkets, explore food exhibitions from various nations, and soak in the festivities. It all sounded exciting, but I chose to continue my training. While I also wished to indulge in some shopping and sample delicious food, I knew that each day lost to training now would cost me seven days of progress in five years or an entire month in fifteen years.

The night before the individual test was calm for me. After meditating briefly with natural chakra, I went to bed early. My sleep was peaceful and rejuvenating, leaving me fully rested and quietly confident the next morning.

Shiko and Ayamane, however, barely slept. They had spent the night worrying about the upcoming battles. Unlike the earlier team stages, we would now be fighting as individuals. Although other Genin from Konoha had passed the second stage, it didn't guarantee effective teamwork.

"Good morning, ladies," I greeted them as I stepped out of the shower, having woken up a little earlier than they did.

"Mm-hmm," Shiko mumbled, stretching.

"Morning," Ayamane replied, her tone equally unenthusiastic. Both had noticeable bags under their eyes, evidence of a restless night. It's hard to rest properly when you spend the night tossing and turning.

"Are you ready for today?" I asked them.

"Yeah," Shiko replied more calmly, quickly heading to the shower to freshen up.

Shrugging, I went to have breakfast. As Sensei had mentioned, they were no longer little girls—and hadn't been for a while. I understood that too, having experienced it myself. But I had no intention of getting involved in anything like that with them, especially if it would lead to this kind of attitude. This personal test would serve as the perfect measure of how much they had truly progressed.

My breakfast was light and, as some might say, unobtrusive. After eating, I climbed onto the hotel roof and settled into one of the shinobi chairs. It wasn't yet time to head to the Arena where the main event would take place, so I could afford a moment of rest.

Before long, the streets and canals came alive as future spectators made their way toward the arena. The morning air buzzed with anticipation, and the hum of conversations and footsteps created a rising wave of excitement. People hurried to secure the best views or find their pre-purchased seats to avoid the crowds. Street vendors wove through the throngs, calling out loudly as they sold souvenirs, food, and drinks. Their faces reflected the hope of good earnings, knowing the massive gathering would bring substantial profits. The air was rich with the aroma of fresh pastries and fragrant spices, adding vibrancy and character to the bustling scene.

On the roof beside me, Hatake Kakashi appeared, calm and composed as always. Without a word, he pulled out a chair identical to mine and sat down. A familiar book materialized in his hand.

"Suzuki," he said, his gaze fixed on the page, "your fight will be tough…"

The comment caught my attention, though I kept my expression neutral. When the leader of our group decided to share information, it was always worth listening carefully. I prepared to absorb every detail and plan my strategy as soon as I had all the facts.

"Puppeteers like to have unexpected allies," he continued, "especially if they use water. Sometimes, they employ decent illusions."

As I suspected, I'd be facing a puppeteer from the Sand. Likely, they'd have some kind of helper, not from their home village—someone from a smaller village skilled in Water Style and genjutsu. Not bad. I could now roughly imagine the type of tandem they might form.

"Also… a lone wolf is solitary in battle… and the leaves of the forest won't help him," Kakashi added cryptically. But I believed I understood. I'd be the only representative from Konoha in the arena during the fight.

He continued, "But for him, most mediocrities… are just a snack."

Ah, this likely meant the other opponents wouldn't pose a significant challenge. Got it.

"Mm-hmm," I exhaled, nodding to show I'd understood.

"The Third said that if you can defeat them all, the license is yours," Kakashi added, carefully watching me with his single visible eye. His other eye, hidden beneath his mask, remained a mystery. Was it simply covered as a precaution, or was there something unique about it? I assumed the former—he was likely always prepared for someone to try to blind him. Or was it something else entirely? Damn it, I couldn't remember.

"I'll do my best not to disappoint," I replied. "I'll give it my all."

"Excellent," he nodded. "And one more thing. If you manage to defeat everyone in under three minutes, the Third has promised to assign you a personal teacher for three months to enhance your skills and knowledge."

"May I ask why it's so important to win so quickly?" I inquired.

"Politics and economics," he shrugged.

I see. My victory could provide the Hokage with some leverage in negotiations and potentially bring in profits. If it weren't significant, he wouldn't be singling me out like this. Not bad. Training under an experienced Jōnin would be a tremendous opportunity. From what I understood, it likely wouldn't be Kiochi-sensei—it would be someone else. But who? Now I was curious.

After that, Kakashi rose from his chair and tucked his book into his pocket. He stretched, cracking his knuckles, then turned to me and said:

"In ten minutes, we're heading to the Arena."

"Understood, Kakashi-san," I replied, standing up as well.

He jumped down first, and I followed shortly after. I went to double-check my pouch one last time. If I was to win in three minutes or less, I needed to ensure I had all the necessary supplies. They might not all come in handy since the fight could take an unexpected turn, but it was better to be prepared.

Now, how should the fight unfold? First, I needed to gauge what my opponents might do. Since the Genin from the Sand, as Kakashi mentioned, would be the most dangerous, it made sense to prioritize taking him out. Once he was eliminated, I could focus on the others. He'd likely have his puppet deployed by the time the battle began, giving him an advantage in avoiding an initial strike. Depending on his strategy, he might hide and control his puppet from a distance or fight alongside it using a more aggressive style.

Down below, the Genin from our village had already gathered. Not all of them would be fighting in the arena, but many were there to watch the event unfold. Shiko and Ayamane looked a bit nervous, though a few other Genin were trying to reassure them. It seemed to help.

The battles would feature an odd number of participants, as some Genin from other villages had opted out of the Battle Royale. The team battles, which had been held behind closed doors, had clearly taken their toll on some competitors.

"Suzuki," Captain Kiochi called out to me. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Sensei," I replied, rolling my head to loosen up. "I'm ready."

"Excellent," he nodded and headed toward Shiko and Ayamane. I followed him, still sticking with my team out of habit, though I no longer considered the girls a real part of it.

"Shiko, Ayamane, what about you? Are you ready?" he asked.

"I think so," Shiko replied, her voice trembling slightly. "I just don't know what to expect out there."

"Don't worry," the captain said reassuringly. "I'm confident you'll perform at a respectable level. You've been well-prepared for this exam."

His reassurances were kind but felt disconnected from reality. Those three weeks they squandered could have been spent training. But they hadn't, which meant they hadn't gotten any stronger. Others, I was certain, had been preparing relentlessly.

"Yes," Ayamane said, nodding. She then took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "We really trained a lot. I can do this."

"Great attitude," the captain nodded approvingly, giving her a thumbs-up.

"All right, group," Kakashi interrupted, cutting off anything else our sensei might have said. "Listen carefully. We're heading to the arena now. Move in formation. Genin participating in the exam… at the arena, an attendant will guide you to the waiting rooms. Everyone else will take their designated seats in the stands reserved for us. Understood?"

"Understood! Yes, sir!" we replied in unison.

"Move out."

We quickly set off toward the arena, which was located outside the Hidden Village's borders. At first, we traveled across rooftops, the village's skyline a blur beneath our swift movement. Then, we transitioned to a wide, well-trodden road, worn down by the footsteps of countless others heading toward the arena.

The arena emerged in the distance—a vast, temporary structure built of wood and iron. Multiple levels circled the central battleground, creating an imposing yet practical design. Flags of all the villages whose representatives were competing flew from its rooftops. On one side, the flags of the Fire Country and Konoha fluttered proudly, while on the opposite side, the Wind Country's and Sand Village's flags represented their Hidden Village.

At the entrance, layers of security were meticulously arranged. The first line consisted of Sand shinobi, the second of Konoha shinobi, and the third of local guards. The Konoha shinobi allowed us through with little trouble, but the other guards conducted a more thorough inspection. I assumed the situation was reversed for teams from other villages.

"Participants," announced a short man wearing a gray mask adorned with several markings. His black vest was reinforced with small metal plates, and his headband was strapped to his arm. "Follow me."

The Genin who would be competing separated from the rest of the group.

"Good luck, Genin," Kakashi whispered softly, though his words carried clearly. The encouragement was deeply reassuring.

"Follow me," the attendant repeated, leading us through a labyrinth of narrow passages. We ascended several flights of stairs before arriving at a small room furnished with chairs and benches. A wide window on the opposite wall provided an unobstructed view of the arena.

"When it's your turn, my assistants will call you," he explained.

"Understood," we replied almost in unison.

Seven of us were gathered in the room. Since I'd be competing solo, the others could form teams to support each other in their battles.

"Rules," the attendant continued, drawing our attention. "Rule number one: leaving the arena is strictly prohibited and will result in automatic disqualification. Rule number two: finishing off an opponent who has surrendered is forbidden and will also result in automatic disqualification. Rule number three: attacking a referee is absolutely prohibited. This, too, results in automatic disqualification. Understood?"

His piercing gaze felt palpable, even with his eyes obscured.

"Yes, understood," we responded in unison.

"Excellent," the attendant said with a nod. "Then I wish you all a worthy fight."

"Thank you," I replied, my voice standing out alone.

The shinobi nodded once more before stepping out and closing the door behind him. To steady my nerves, I dragged a chair over to the window and began studying the arena below.