Defeat
In the previous match, Guy had finally chosen to open the Eight Gates, reaching the level of the Rest Gate (second of the Eight Inner Gates). This placed considerable pressure on Kakashi.
Although Kakashi couldn't match his speed, he relied on his exceptional reflexes and combat instincts to defend at the last possible moment every time. His sharp perception allowed him to anticipate attacks in advance, making it seem as if Guy was striking directly into his guard on purpose.
But after opening even two of the Eight Gates, Guy's speed and strength increased dramatically. While Kakashi avoided taking hits to vital areas, the strain was showing—his limbs were slightly swollen from repeated impacts, and his body was nearing its limit.
It had to be said—ever since Guy began learning the Eight Gates, his strength had started climbing at a frightening pace.
In the original timeline, Kakashi would have won such a match with relative ease. But now, he was forced to wait out Guy's stamina, dragging the fight into attrition.
> "At this rate, it won't be long before Guy becomes a Chūnin," Bai Ye remarked after Yuyan gave him a brief rundown of the situation.
He vaguely remembered that in the canon, Might Guy had been promoted around the age of eleven. But now, with access to the Eight Gates earlier than expected, that promotion might come even sooner.
Still, the primary issue was Guy's endurance. With only the first two gates unlocked, his short bursts of power couldn't yet compensate for limited stamina.
> If I were the examiner, Bai Ye thought, I'd suppress him this round and make him refine his fundamentals a bit more.
"Yue! Come on!"
Yuyan's sudden cheer snapped Bai Ye out of his thoughts.
> "Yue is getting pushed back?" he muttered, surprised.
He had watched the earlier part of her match—at the time, Yue had overwhelmed her opponent using high-intensity Ninjutsu. The opponent barely resisted each wave of attacks, seemingly on the verge of collapse. It looked like Yue would win just by keeping up the pressure.
> "I've noticed something," Kakashi said, arms crossed, though he was subtly rubbing one of them. "Her opponent's control is incredibly precise. He's not struggling—he's intentionally restraining his responses to make her overextend."
Asuma nodded in agreement. "I thought Yue had this in the bag. But the other kid didn't even use any high-level Ninjutsu. Just basics. And look where we are now."
At that moment, Yue could be seen panting heavily, constantly retreating as she was driven back under relentless pressure.
> "Looks like Yue might lose," Bai Ye muttered, watching from his elevated position.
The field was in chaos from the accumulated battles—torn ground, broken weapons, scorched soil, and leftover chakra residue. Yue, guided deliberately by her opponent's attacks, was now being driven toward a shallow swamp. No one could tell which earlier fight had caused it, but it was clear the terrain was being used against her.
Her opponent, Asagi Masayuki, hadn't done anything flashy—but his movements, feints, and precision reflected the fundamentals of a solid shinobi. While lacking raw talent, it was people like him—consistent, adaptable, quietly competent—who formed the backbone of the shinobi world.
Where he lacked elite techniques, he made up for it in discipline, patience, and experience from countless missions. It reminded Bai Ye of Kakashi—but while Kakashi's instincts came from natural talent, Asagi's were hard-earned.
> "The winner is Asagi Masayuki."
Sure enough, there was no dramatic reversal. The moment Yue's legs sank deep into the muddy swamp and she was immobilized, Orochimaru—serving as proctor—announced the result with chilling neutrality.
Yue climbed the stairs slowly, clearly struggling. Her eyes shimmered with tears she stubbornly refused to let fall.
Without waiting, Bai Ye stepped forward and gently ruffled her head.
> "Don't be so down. Look at Obito—older than you and still got wiped in the first round."
Yue's tearful resolve broke the moment his hand touched her. Tears spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably, and she looked heartbreakingly small.
She hadn't lost due to a lack of strength. But her inexperience had left her vulnerable to someone like Asagi, who disguised his skill under an ordinary façade.
She had misjudged him from the start, thinking brute force and flashy jutsu would win the day. By the time she realized she was being baited, it was too late. The emotional damage of that realization—of being outwitted rather than overpowered—cut far deeper.
> "Tch. Hey, Bai Ye—why are you dragging me into this just to make her feel better?" Obito complained, arms crossed with exaggerated indignation.
Yuyan gently took Yue's hand, pulling her away to clean the mud off her pants. But Obito had clearly had enough of being the day's favorite punching bag.
> Today was definitely the kind of day Obito wanted to forget. From the moment he entered the arena, he had been dragged, mocked, and humiliated—over and over again.
Of course, the moment Rin gently treated his wounds had also been engraved into his mind. That memory, at least, he'd carry for life.
"You're one to talk," Kakashi shot back. "You were the only one who got one-shotted."
He was clearly irritated. Obito's carelessness, constant lateness, and daydreaming were a source of endless frustration.
"Don't say it like that. Obito broke a record today," Genma Shiranui said cheerfully, throwing an arm around Obito's shoulder.
Obito clenched a fist. He wanted to deck him so badly.
"Do you think Bai Ye and Yuyan might face off?" Ibiki suddenly asked, voice low and loaded with interest.
"What? No way! Didn't we just have a rule against facing teammates?" Obito blurted out.
But the topic had now shifted, and Obito quietly gave Ibiki a discreet thumbs-up. For all his scary looks, the guy was clutch when it counted.
> "The odds are higher now," someone murmured.
As more matchups were decided, the crowd began taking bets. Bai Ye and Yuyan hadn't been drawn yet, and excitement was rising.
"You guys are so boring," Bai Ye muttered, watching Genma and Shō take out a scrap of paper and start writing names and betting odds.
According to their scribbles, Bai Ye and Yuyan were guaranteed to face each other within the next three rounds.
The possibility that they might not duel was being entirely ignored.
"You're all ridiculous," a voice said sharply.
But it wasn't Bai Ye who had spoken.
Yuyan had returned, holding Yue's hand. She scowled when she saw the group betting like gamblers outside a dango shop.
Yue's expression had improved. Her clothes were clean, and her posture was steady. You'd hardly think she had just suffered a demoralizing loss.