Danger imminent

Naruto stood in the gentle fist stance, eyes fixated on Neji. He watched with a discerning eye analysing his every move, he watched every twitch in Neji's body, waiting for the moment Neji was going to strike.

Then, almost imperceptibly, they engaged. To the civilians in the audience, it might appear as a dance, the strikes so gentle, the movements so coordinated. But the Hyuga clan and those who understood the way of the Gentle Fist knew that every strike, every glancing blow was a carefully calculated move, a strike at a pressure point or chakra point.

Back and forth they went, Neji's fluid grace against Naruto's powerful precision. Their fists never clenched not even once. Each strike was an argument, each dodge a counterpoint. The fight was a conversation, a debate played out through movement and form.

The sun climbed higher, and the duel continued, neither willing to concede, neither able to overcome. Sweat glistened on Neji's brow, his muscles strained, but his focus never wavered. The arena had grown silent to him, he couldn't understand what Naruto had done to achieve this but it infuriated him.

With each strike that landed, Naruto narrowly avoided a chakra point being shut down but with each block Neji began to feel Naruto's blows from both the inside and out. Neji had only just realised Naruto's form had changed albeit slightly, his blows were heavier yet they still attacked with the Hyuga clan's method. If he wasn't careful Naruto could fatally wound him.

Naruto's eyes narrowed, focusing intently on Neji, searching for the one flaw in his defences that would offer a glimmer of opportunity. It was a delicate game, a battle of wits and skill, and then, suddenly, the moment arrived—a breakthrough. With a transcendent clarity, Naruto saw through his opponent's power, recognizing an opening in the rhythm of the Hyuga's renowned technique. Seizing the moment, he moved with fluid, lightning-like grace, his fingers extending to strike a vital point on Neji's chest.

Reeling backward, Neji stumbled, blood oozing from his mouth as the shock of Naruto's attack resonated through his body. Naruto had struck at his heart, and his stoic face betrayed a hint of emotion—a triumphant smile. With his newly developed style, he had outmanoeuvred the long-refined technique of the Hyuga clan.

The battle was far from over, however. Now, Naruto's final plan was set in motion. Although the byakugan provided a near 360-degree view, it couldn't predict, and Naruto knew that Neji was overly reliant on it. As Neji scrambled to recover, Naruto unleashed a flurry of kunai and shuriken, each one laced with ninja wire, to keep his opponent off-balance and unsuspecting of his real plan. Methodically, Naruto drew Neji toward the centre of the arena, throwing two wires for every one Neji destroyed.

"It's useless! Fate decided I was the winner," Neji shouted defiantly, pivoting and spinning to sever the entangling ninja wires. Naruto's smirk was his only response. The wires were initially meant to ensnare Neji, but with Neji's confident ease in cutting them, Naruto adapted his strategy, transforming them into a mere distraction for his impending final assault.

As Neji cleared the debris with his rotation technique, Naruto focused an enormous amount of chakra into his legs, fully aware of the risk of tearing his muscles. However, his extraordinary recovery abilities and knowledge of medical ninjutsu mitigated that risk.

With a burst of incredible speed, Naruto lunged forward, channelling chakra into his fist, preparing to strike both inside and outside Neji's body.

In the stands, Hinata was nearly breathless with anticipation. She watched in awe as Naruto replicated the gentle fist technique of her clan, enhancing it with his unique strengths despite lacking a byakugan. Tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of pride and happiness, as she whispered, "I love you, Naruto."

Naruto's fist found its mark, crashing into the right side of Neji's chest. The force shattered his ribs, and the gentle fist technique caused his right lung to puncture, filling with blood. Neji fell to his hands and knees, a stream of crimson escaping his lips.

His vision blurred, consciousness slipping away, but his pride held his eyes open. Even though he knew he was grievously wounded, he refused to accept defeat. With a desperate roar, he tried to rise, but Naruto was already there, kunai pressed against Neji's throat. The match was over. Naruto had won, and the victory was as resounding as it was overwhelming.

Neji's once defiant pride succumbed to the overpowering exhaustion, and the world around him dimmed until darkness consumed his vision, rendering him unconscious. As the dust settled, the verdict echoed through the arena. "And the winner is... Naruto Uzumaki!" The crowd's enthusiasm was palpable; roaring applause and jubilant cheers filled the air. Naruto, absorbing this moment, realised he had achieved a milestone, a significant victory. His face lit up with an irrepressible grin as he enthusiastically acknowledged the crowd. Amidst the sea of faces, his gaze met Hinata's, and he shot her a heartfelt smile. Her earlier words of encouragement had meant the world to him, and he was delighted that their bond had evolved from mere comrades to true friends.

Triumphant, Naruto strode confidently towards the stands. What he was oblivious to, however, was the unwavering gaze of Hiruzen, the revered Third Hokage. A veil of disbelief and curiosity shrouded Hiruzen's face. Was that truly the same Naruto he knew? What training had the boy undertaken to reach this level? Such questions swirled in his mind. But beyond the astonishment, a consensus was silently forming amongst the examiners, chunin, and jounin: Naruto had exhibited the tactical awareness and combat prowess befitting a chunin. Hiruzen was confident; Naruto was ready to rise to the rank of chunin this year.

The air of anticipation continued as the next match was set to begin. While many had presumed Sasuke's turn would follow, a twist emerged. Sasuke was notably absent, and so, it was Kankuro and Shino who were announced to face off next.

"The next contenders: Kankuro from the Sand Village versus Shino Aburame," announced the proctor, Genma, his voice echoing across the stadium.

With elegance and poise, Shino descended into the heart of the arena, but his opponent halted the match before it could commence. Kankuro, with his distinctive purple makeup and a puppet strapped to his back, declared, "I withdraw."

Naruto's brow furrowed as he tried to fathom Kankuro's abrupt decision. Beside him, Shikamaru's face mirrored the same perplexity, struggling to piece together the Sand ninja's motives.

In Kankuro's mind, the rationale was clear. Engaging in combat was futile if it meant revealing his trump card. His puppet wasn't just a tool; it was a concealed weapon, one he wasn't willing to expose.

Before Genma could redirect the audience's attention, Temari leapt gracefully into the arena, her giant fan at the ready. "Let's get on with it!" she shouted, her voice ringing with determination.

A grimace crept onto Shikamaru's face, the weight of his previous battle and the prospect of another making him weary. "What's the rush? Should I just bow out too?" he mumbled to himself.

Suddenly, a reassuring hand settled on his shoulder. Glancing sideways, Shikamaru met Naruto's eyes. With an encouraging grin, Naruto flashed a thumbs up and whispered, "Good luck." Sensing Shikamaru's reluctance, Naruto added, "You know, once you're promoted to chunin, you won't have to endure these exams ever again." The lure of less work appealed to Shikamaru. A chunin rank would exempt him from these gruelling tests in the future. The idea of a simpler life made him a little motivated.

With Naruto's words echoing in his ears, Shikamaru reluctantly stepped onto the arena. It wasn't that he lacked the skill or strategy; he just found the idea of expending extra effort tiresome. That very indifference was imprinted on his demeanour, and when Genma signalled the commencement of the battle, Temari wasted no time. She lunged forward, unleashing the fierce gusts of her fan. Thinking swiftly, Shikamaru sought refuge behind a cluster of trees, shielding himself from the onslaught.

From her elevated vantage point, Ino yelled, "Finish this fast, Shikamaru!" Beside her, Choji shook his head, a resigned smirk on his face. He knew his friend all too well and speculated, "He'll find a way to bow out."

But on the battlefield, Shikamaru was already several steps ahead. He swiftly drew out several kunai, attaching paper bombs to each. As they exploded on impact, they created a labyrinth of craters on the ground, transforming the landscape to his advantage. The key was patience and strategy. The more he could alter the terrain, the easier it would be to manipulate the fight in his favour. He darted back to the protective shadow of the trees, cognizant of the lethal potential of Temari's wind jutsu.

Temari's irritation was palpable. She was used to direct confrontations, but Shikamaru's evasive tactics and attempts to entrap her with his shadow paralysis jutsu were thwarting her at every turn. She noticed, however, the jutsu's limited range. The realisation dawned upon her; he was using the extended shadows cast by the trees to augment the reach of his technique. With the sun's movement creating longer shadows, time was of the essence. She had to act swiftly before the increasing shadows rendered her completely vulnerable.

Shikamaru assessed the situation and devised a plan. Evading Temari's relentless assault, he made another attempt to immobilise her using his jutsu. But she danced away, her eyes alight with challenge. "Will you face me head-on, or will you keep skulking like a coward?" she taunted, her voice dripping with derision.

Shikamaru, displaying his carefree and lazy attitude, yawned, retorting, "Why bother with a head-on clash when I can strategize from behind these trees?"

In a calculated distance from Shikamaru's shadow, Temari sought a way to triumph over her crafty opponent. Deep in thought, she suddenly discerned an unfamiliar silhouette expanding Shikamaru's domain.

Employing quick thinking, Shikamaru had improvised a parachute using a segment of his shirt, affixed to a hurled kunai. The airborne fabric effectively amplified the reach of his shadow, constraining Temari's movements and pressuring her to the edge of the arena. Yet, even this clever ploy appeared futile when she artfully dodged his approach. As she mentally choreographed her counterattack, an unexpected chill gripped her limbs.

"Impossible," she gasped, realisation sinking in. Shikamaru had ingeniously used the myriad depressions he'd carved in the arena's terrain earlier to harness their faint shadows, ensnaring her from an unguarded flank. With her eyes slowly dimming, symbolising her imminent capitulation, she awaited the impending verdict. But to her astonishment, Shikamaru lifted his hand.

"Proctor, I forfeit. I'm running low on chakra," he declared nonchalantly. A ripple of disbelief ran through the crowd. Naruto, visibly exasperated, buried his face in his hands, itching to confront his unpredictable friend.

Catching the mood, Genma confirmed, "Very well. Shikamaru Nara has willingly forfeited. The victory goes to Temari of the Sand."

With that, Shikamaru effortlessly released the shadow paralysis jutsu and ambled away, indifference evident in his gait.

Ino, unable to curb her frustration, exclaimed, "What was that? He had chunin potential!" Beside her, Choji munched on his snacks, unperturbed by her outburst, merely remarking, "That's just Shikamaru being Shikamaru."

Overlooking the scene, Kurenai, flanked by Asuma, observed, "Does that boy even possess a desire to win? It felt like he had that match in the bag."

Exhaling a plume of smoke, Asuma mused, "Shikamaru's an enigma." Taking another drag, he added, "But one thing's undeniable: he embodies a crucial quality for a chunin."

Intrigued, Kurenai arched an eyebrow, "And what trait might that be?" The question hung in the air, awaiting a revelation.

"The disposition of a Natural leader."

Sakura, absorbed in her own thoughts and concern, stood adjacent to the engrossed jounin duo. Anxiety tugged at her heartstrings every time she scanned the crowd for any sight of Sasuke. His match was imminent, and his continued absence threatened disqualification. Ino, sensing Sakura's unease, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, attempting to provide solace.

The entrance to the arena echoed with footsteps, signalling the arrival of tardy guests. The guards on duty, spotting the two figures, greeted them warmly, "Good to see you, sirs! Please proceed."

It was none other than Rock Lee, energetically hobbling on crutches, and his ever-ebullient sensei, Might Guy.

"A majority of the preliminary matches are concluded. The much-anticipated face-off between Uchiha and Gaara remains," briefed one of the chunin, gesturing them inside.

Before stepping in, curiosity got the better of Lee. "And the outcome of Naruto versus Neji?" he inquired, barely concealing his concern.

A guard, grinning cheekily, replied, "Hyuga found himself on the losing end." The revelation left both Guy and Lee momentarily dumbstruck. Against all odds, Naruto had outclassed Neji.

As the pair entered the arena, the electric atmosphere was palpable. The crowd buzzed with impatience, demanding to know the whereabouts of Sasuke. The fervour grew until a hushed whisper from the Hokage's booth filtered through the din. An attendant leaned towards Hiruzen, murmuring, "Kakashi has finally sent word."

Amidst the cacophony, a signature whirlwind of leaves descended onto the arena floor, momentarily silencing the clamour. Naruto, watching from above, smirked, whispering to himself, "About time."

With a tilt of his headband and a playful glint in his visible eye, Kakashi greeted, "My apologies for our tardiness."

Genma, overlooking Kakashi's casual demeanour, shifted his gaze to Sasuke, inquiring with a hint of amusement, "Name?"

Sasuke, eyes cold and expression impassive, responded, "Sasuke Uchiha."

Up in the stands, Gaara's aura grew palpably darker, his eyes glinting with malevolence. He declared, "I knew he'd come." His ominous presence sent shivers down his siblings' spines, who watched in a mix of awe and trepidation.

Down the steps, Naruto had met Shikamaru eager to simultaneously congratulate and berate his friend. However it was interrupted by an eerie disturbance echoing from a nearby corridor. Together with Shikamaru, Naruto investigated the unsettling noise.

The sight that met them was nightmarish: two mist ninja, grotesquely ensnared in tendrils of sand, with Gaara at the epicentre, his grin eerily menacing. Sand surged threateningly toward them. As the sand wave closed in, Shikamaru mentally braced himself for the inevitable. But an explosive blast, the signature blue swirl of Naruto's rasengan, tore through the sand.

Eyes wide, Shikamaru witnessed Naruto walk towards Gaara. Suddenly with unparalleled speed, Naruto appeared beside Gaara, hand poised above his shoulder. Gaara reacted instantly, conjuring a protective barrier of sand. Undeterred, Naruto infused chakra into his arm, effortlessly dispelling the sandy defence.

"This isn't the time or place. Focus on your match," Naruto advised, before calmly retracing his steps, Shikamaru tailing him.

Shikamaru's mind raced. This was not the Naruto he remembered. The efficiency with which he'd deflected Gaara's onslaught, his newfound speed... Everything seemed uncharacteristic. But one thought stood out amidst his musings: Naruto had evolved. 'He truly could be Hokage someday...'