I slowly straightened up, despite the agonizing pain coursing through my entire body. Every breath echoed in my chest and my muscles burned, but I forced myself to move forward. The tanto was still in my hand—lowered, yet ready.
Shirai looked up at me. The anger and self-assurance were gone, replaced only by a heavy, clouded realization that his body was failing him. He tried to stand, but his legs trembled, and he sank back to one knee, coughing. His ninken whimpered softly and stepped between us, shielding its master.
"Enough..." Shirai rasped, more to himself than to me.
I stopped a few paces away. Any extra movement was dangerous—my chakra was nearly depleted, and my hands were shaking from exhaustion. I raised my tanto and rested the blade against his neck—no pressure, no sudden movements.
"It's over," I said quietly.
A few seconds of silence stretched out infinitely. Then, the judge's voice rang out:
"The match is over. The winner is Kotetsu Hagane."
I immediately withdrew the blade and stepped back. Almost instantly, I cut off my chakra circulation; my body simply couldn't handle it anymore. Shirai slumped onto the concrete, leaning against his ninken. The dog didn't leave his side for a second, pressing against him and watching his every breath as if fearing his master might lose consciousness at any moment.
Only then did I allow myself to exhale.
Medics rushed over almost immediately—two to me, three to Inuzuka.
"Get Inuzuka!" the lead medic barked.
"Quickly, he's suffering from severe overload." Shirai tried to say something, but he was doubled over by a fit of coughing blood. One medic held him by the shoulders while another checked his pulse and breathing.
"You realize that if we treat you now, you're disqualified?" the lead medic said sternly, without looking at him. Shirai only nodded; he had no strength left to argue.
Another medic approached me. "Sit down. Where does it hurt?"
"No major injuries, I think," I managed to squeeze out. "My shoulder... if you can pop it back in. I'm continuing." The medic looked at me intently, then nodded. "No regeneration. Only fixation and painkillers. It's on you." I nodded back.
I'll have a little more time, the thought flashed through my mind. I need to restore my chakra.
When he reset my shoulder, the pain was so sharp that my vision went dark. I brought my teeth together and didn't make a sound. After that came a tight bandage, cold ointment, and that was it. But the pain didn't vanish; it just became... deeper.
My legs buckled, and I had to lean on one knee to keep from falling. My whole body ached—my muscles were cramped, and my joints felt like they were filled with lead. My chakra circulated sluggishly, flickering as if there was less of it than there should be.
At that moment, Guy appeared beside me. He had leapt from the balcony almost simultaneously with the end of the fight and immediately caught me by the arm. "Hey, don't play the hero," he said, quieter than usual. "Come on, I'll help you."
I didn't argue. My legs weren't obeying me well, and without support, I would have simply collapsed again. As we passed the center of the arena, I caught a glimpse of Shirai.
They were already placing him on a stretcher. A medic was speaking sharply, pointing to his chest and neck: "Stimulant overdose... Heart is overloaded..."
I sat down on the cold stone of the balcony and closed my eyes for a few seconds. Breathing became easier, but my body still throbbed with pain at every movement. My chakra was returning slowly—far too slowly. I wouldn't last until the next fight at this rate.
I pulled a small tin box from my pouch. Military rations—standard issue, nothing forbidden, but nothing pleasant either. I swallowed the first one without chewing. A bitter taste immediately spread through my mouth. A minute later, I took a second.
Warmth spread through my body, as if someone was gently nudging the chakra back into its channels. It wasn't a surge or a power boost—just the ability to move again. I winced and pulled out the last capsule. Small, dark, almost unnoticeable. Orochimaru's pill... the last dose.
The capsule disappeared into my mouth.
"Are you even sane?.." a familiar voice asked. I opened my eyes. Genma was standing nearby, arms crossed, inspecting me closely. "You look like you've been run over by a steamroller," he added.
"That's pretty much what happened," I replied hoarsely.
Guy followed close behind. He looked at me for a couple of seconds, then flashed a sudden grin and gave a thumbs-up. "You were magnificent! That was a true test of spirit and Youth!"
"He could barely stand," Genma grumbled. "What 'youth' are you talking about..."
"Exactly that!" Guy countered. "Standing even when you can't!"
I smirked, but immediately felt my shoulder flare with pain. "You really held your own," Genma said more quietly. "I thought he was going to break you when he started the pressure."
"Me too," I answered honestly.
At that moment, another person approached us. Tall, broad-shouldered. Young, yet already exuding confidence. He's actually quite handsome, the thought flashed through my mind before I could filter it. He had refined features, short dark hair, and a gaze that was calm but observant.
"So, this is who you are," he said, stopping in front of me. "Kotetsu Hagane."
He huffed a short laugh, eyeing me with an evaluative look—not condescending, but as if weighing exactly what he was looking at. "Asuma Sarutobi," he introduced himself.
"Nice to meet you," I replied with a small nod.
"I'm inviting you and your team for a snack after this exam," he said suddenly, a faint, almost friendly spark flickering in his eyes. "Along with my team."
I froze for a second. The son of the Third Hokage, a representative of one of the village's most influential clans, just walked up to me—a battered, barely-standing Genin—and invited me to eat? This didn't fit the usual hierarchy of the exam.
"That's all I wanted," he said, waving a hand to cut through the silence, and walked away unhurriedly with his hands in his pockets.
That was strange, I thought, watching him leave.
"What was that about?" Genma squinted, looking after Sarutobi. "He never just approaches strangers like that."
"No idea," I replied truthfully.
Thoughts of Asuma were quickly pushed aside by harsh reality. The fights continued one after another. But to my disappointment, they didn't drag on. The Genin were being knocked out fast—some from a single lucky hit, others from a lack of experience. The matches ended within a couple of minutes. It was a spectacle for the audience, but a catastrophe for me.
I was running out of time to recover. My body seems okay, but it's an illusion, I thought, feeling my shoulder pulse with dull pain under the bandage. After this exam, I'm heading straight to the hospital. A day in a ward is guaranteed.
I looked at the scoreboard. The names cycled through, and then came the moment that silenced even the loudest spectators. Two figures stepped into the center of the ring.
Kakashi Hatake vs. Asuma Sarutobi.
I went still, my eyes glued to the arena. On one side was the genius who finished the Academy in record time, the son of the White Fang—Kakashi. On the other was Asuma, whose status as the Hokage's heir and member of the Sarutobi clan made him one of the most dangerous opponents in the tournament.
This will be interesting, I thought. I wonder how far they are willing to go for victory?