"Haha! You want to fight me?"
The voice rang out loud and arrogant, belonging to a tall Uchiha boy. He tilted his head with the kind of smug grin that only a clan heir could wear. Another Uchiha leaning casually at his side added with laughter, "Hideaki, if he's asking for it, then give it to him! Play with him all you like!"
"Haha! As you command, Your Highness." Uchiha Hideaki smirked with wicked delight and stepped forward, looming over Obito.
"You're eager? Fine, I'll entertain you all I want." Hideaki stretched out a large hand, lifted Obito clean off the ground, and sneered in triumph.
But the instant Obito was seized, two silver streaks cut through the air.
A flash of iron. A streak of steel.
One blade—sharp and glinting with cold silver—was already pressed forward, White Fang's tanto pointed squarely at Hideaki's chest. The second figure appeared behind him, hand braced, kunai poised threateningly against the back of Hideaki's ribs.
"Ah!" Even Rin gasped aloud at the sudden intervention.
The silver flash was Hatake Kakashi.
The white streak was Uchiha Shigure.
"My teammates don't need you to rescue them," Kakashi said curtly, an arrogant superiority in his young voice. No reverence, no hesitation, even though the Uchiha boy beside him was technically his great-uncle's descendant. Kakashi had never learned to soften his tone.
Shigure paid him no mind. His eyes were fixed on Hideaki, his voice cold as steel. "If you make the slightest move, I will kill you where you stand. And I don't bluff. Go ahead—test it."
The chill in his words slid straight through the kunai and into Hideaki's bones like ice water. The arrogant boy flinched, not from Kakashi's blade but from the suffocating presence of Shigure's glare.
"Tch… bastard!" The "Your Highness" who had just been laughing earlier shouted furiously. He lunged at Shigure together with another Uchiha of the same age, trying to overwhelm him in tandem.
Kakashi stepped forward, indignant. "You don't need to act—I'll handle these two faster than you!" He made to intercept them.
But Shigure had already vanished from before their eyes.
Bang!
Bang!
Two dull thuds echoed, causing the crowd of genin candidates to swivel their heads in shock. When they looked again, the two Uchihas who had struck together were already sprawled on the tiled floor, groaning and unable to rise. The assault had ended before anyone could even register what Shigure had done.
"Wha… what just—?" Even Kakashi's normally impassive expression cracked, a flicker of genuine surprise breaking across his face.
"Your Highness…" Hideaki froze mid‑motion, his grip slackening on Obito. Was it fear? Or disbelief?
Shigure turned only slightly, eyes calm but voice sharp. "Obito, stay wary. Families of influence often churn out entitled brats like this. Never allow yourself to be bullied by them." Then, with a shift of tone, he asked Kusuo Hatake, who was lingering nearby, "Where's Akane? Why isn't she here yet?"
"Uh—yeah… she should be right—" Kusuo started, but a voice cut him off.
"Stop!"
All eyes turned as a haughty boy stepped forward.
"A mere Uchiha stray dares to flaunt power in front of me? I am Uchiha Naomasa—the son of our clan's chief elder!" He puffed his chest, hurling defiance across the room.
Naomasa's eyes snapped open, tomoe spinning to life. His single magatama Sharingan gleamed red with hatred. With a roar, he rushed Shigure, kunai raised.
Shigure did not move. He stood still, watching Naomasa close in with almost bored detachment.
"Swish!"
Two authoritative figures materialized before him. They intercepted Naomasa easily, hurling him aside like a rag doll. Their sharp voices cleaved through the tense air.
"No fighting near the waiting hall! Another display like this—your entire teams will be banned from Chūnin promotion for life!"
The shout belonged to Nara Shikaku, his voice steady yet edged with real annoyance. Beside him, Yamanaka Inoichi's expression was scathing, his hand poised as if ready to strike again.
"As Konoha genin, how dare you disgrace our village like this?" Inoichi's tone carried more disappointment than anger, though the effect struck deeper. Even the cockiest candidates hung their heads.
"Enough." Shikaku pressed a palm to his forehead as though regretting taking the assignment. "Keep your killing intent contained until you've even passed the written exam. Now—all of you—inside the hall. Wait quietly."
Chūnin patrols had thickened across the courtyard, order clamping down firmly. No one dared test them again. Still, before retreating with his team, Naomasa glared furiously one last time at Shigure.
Shigure responded by opening his own eyes calmly…the smooth, perfect symmetry of his three‑tomoe Sharingan glowing like still white embers. Cold. Unflinching.
Naomasa paled and looked away first.
At the stairway, Shigure, Kusuo, and Hyūga Akane finally converged and walked into the examination hall together.
Rising Pressure
The atmosphere inside was suffocating. The waiting room throbbed with tension. Every eye was an enemy's, every chakra signature heavy with malice. Veteran child-soldiers who had already seen war mingled with green but blood‑hungry hopefuls. Even Shigure felt a strange weight pressing down on his shoulders.
Among the crowd were not only clan heirs aiming to settle grudges, but also shinobi with unfamiliar angles to their chakra—likely spies in disguise from rival nations, embedding themselves in the Chūnin Exams to siphon Leaf's secrets.
Targeting Shigure happened often enough. But he wasn't the lone focus.
Some gazes in the room locked firmly on Kakashi as well. Just ten years old, yet already a Chūnin, already hailed as the White Fang's son—a genius prodigy such as him drew enemies like moths to flame.
The test of nerves hadn't even begun when a shadow suddenly lunged toward Kakashi's back.
"Kakashi!" a voice cried as a green blur whirled. A wide kick cut through the air, aimed at the back of Kakashi's skull. He tilted aside effortlessly, letting the kick whip past.
Everyone blinked.
"Wha—what's with those eyebrows?!" Akane muttered in disbelief.
The culprit righted himself with impeccable balance, then shouted with pride. "Kakashi! You dodged me again! That's why you shall always be my eternal rival!"
Every head turned.
"I feel it—the flame of youth between us burns brighter with every clash! I am Might Guy! Passion and challenge are my way of life!"
With sparkling teeth bared in a grin, Might Guy struck his infamous thumbs‑up pose in the middle of the crowded waiting room as if utterly immune to the murderous stares around him.
The silence afterward was almost comical.
"…It's him again," Obito muttered, groaning with embarrassment as he clutched his hair.
Yet Shigure's gaze lingered on the eccentric boy. Beneath the absurdity, his chakra pulsed with raw, disciplined force.
This one… the man of legend. The Eight Gates. The one who nearly kicked through destiny itself.
Shigure stepped forward, meeting Guy's radiant grin with a respectful nod. "Hello, Guy."
"Whoa! An acknowledgment!" Guy clasped his hands with genuine delight. "I knew my youth would inspire someone! Thank you, my friend!"
Before the chatter settled, a soft, feminine voice floated across the room.
"You are here too."
Turning, Shigure saw a familiar face: the kunoichi with flowing violet hair and a calm, discerning gaze—Katori Suzuran. His chest stirred with memory as she smiled faintly in recognition.
"Also, Matsuyama Shuichi and Yoshida Kappei are over here," Kusuo reminded quickly.
True enough, the two boys stood across the hall. Shuichi's glare was sharp and provocative, already burning toward Kusuo like a challenge. Kappei, by contrast, simply inclined his head with respect toward Shigure.
After all, everyone present remembered. At only five years old, Shigure had defeated both of them.
The room buzzed on the verge of detonation again. And this was only the waiting room.
The true exams had yet to begin.
--
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