The battle began with an unremarkable start.
Mikoto, choosing to act first, hurled three kunai in one swift motion. The weapons clashed in midair, altering their trajectory into a long arc as they sped straight toward Aburame Shibi.
Shibi, hidden as always behind dark sunglasses and his pale trench coat, stepped lightly, his presence almost imperceptible. With a flick of his wrist, his kunai deflected each incoming blade, ringing with a sharp metallic note.
His hands blurred through a sequence of seals.
"Bind."
Mikoto's brow furrowed. "I… can't move."
Her feet felt anchored to the platform.
"Quick, dodge, Mikoto!" Nawaki yelled from the sidelines.
Shibi's voice was calm, even indifferent. "It's useless. My insects have already latched onto your feet. You're immobilized."
Extending his hands, he commanded, "Go, my darlings."
A dense swarm of kikaichu spilled from beneath his coat, buzzing as they surged toward her.
But Mikoto didn't flinch. Her hands formed seals, and crackling arcs of lightning burst forth, crawling over her body. Bolts coiled around her form, sparking and hissing.
"Oh? Electrocute the insects under her feet with Lightning Release? Clever," Hayashi observed quietly from the crowd.
"Go, Mikoto!" voices cheered from the audience.
The chakra-enhanced lightning forced the kikaichu back, and with a sharp twist of her ankle, Mikoto found her movement restored.
The swarm closed in again. Mikoto instantly tossed a smoke bomb, shrouding the arena in thick haze.
Shibi did not falter. He extended his arms, insects spilling forth to comb through the smoke. His clan's kikaichu could track chakra signatures with perfect accuracy. Sight was irrelevant.
Found you.
Through the feedback of his insects, he sensed Mikoto moving to the right.
"Go, kikaichu," he commanded.
A wave of insects flooded outward, surrounding her in a tightening formation.
The smoke cleared to reveal Mikoto, enveloped on all sides.
"Mikoto!" Nawaki shouted, his voice breaking with worry.
Everyone knew the terror of the Aburame clan's techniques. Once surrounded, escape was nearly impossible.
Then, a flash of light erupted from Mikoto's body.
"Minato, Nawaki, back away quickly." Hayashi grabbed them both, dragging them twenty meters from the arena. His instincts screamed danger.
"Expl—"
"Bang!"
The explosion shook the ground violently. Smoke and dust billowed skyward, the shockwave rippling across the stands. Students who had been laughing moments earlier cried out in alarm as the shockwave rippled through the platform.
When the smoke finally dispersed, a massive crater scarred the arena.
"Mikoto…" Hayashi muttered, eyes narrowing. The sheer force of the blast rivaled B-rank ninjutsu. That many explosive tags at once was no small trick.
But… explosion truly is art. He almost chuckled, imagining Deidara's future obsession.
Suddenly, several shuriken whistled through the air. Mikoto appeared again, her hands flicking as she launched more. They curved beautifully, arcing toward Shibi.
Shibi raised his kunai again, sharp and precise. He batted them away with ease.
"It's useless. Even the prettiest throwing technique won't work," he muttered, brushing the last blade aside.
But Mikoto's face remained calm.
A moment later, he noticed the shuriken scattered around him in an odd pattern.
"What—!?"
Thin, near-invisible wires connected them, drawn taut. The special steel threads glistened faintly, the kind made by the Cat Granny of the Uchiha clan. In an instant, they tightened, binding Shibi like a net.
"Oh… not bad," Hayashi murmured approvingly.
Every member of the Uchiha clan trained in shurikenjutsu. Thread-binding tactics were a deadly variant few could defend against.
"Lightning Release: Current!" Mikoto's seals snapped into place.
Sparks coursed along the wires, surging into Shibi's body. His insects scattered in panic, unable to shield him in time. With a grunt, he collapsed to the ground, body twitching from the shock.
"Winner, Uchiha Mikoto." Orochimaru's hoarse voice carried across the grounds. Standing at close range, the Sannin hadn't moved an inch throughout the match.
He raised his voice again. "Regarding further training methods, the winners will be contacted by their teachers tomorrow. For now, class is dismissed."
Mikoto stepped off the stage, face alight with triumph.
"Great job, Mikoto," Hayashi said warmly, patting her head.
"It's nothing," Mikoto answered with a bright smile.
"But… Mikoto, what was that explosion earlier?" Nawaki asked, still baffled.
"Explosive tags," Mikoto explained calmly. "I used Lightning Release to shock the insects at my feet. Once I could move again, I cast a Shadow Clone under the smoke screen. The insects chased the clone, and I detonated the tags attached to it."
Hayashi's lips twitched. Brilliant… but dangerously wasteful.
With that, the results were clear. Hayashi, Minato, and Mikoto had all entered the top three. Each of them would be guided personally by the Sannin from now on.
It was no small thing. All three were orphans who had grown up without proper training. The academy's slow, step-by-step system couldn't match the focused guidance of an elite. This was their chance to truly grow.
As for Nawaki? He had grown up under the wild influence of Konoha's "gambling, drinking, and mischief trio." He hardly cared about additional guidance. That he'd resisted their vices so long only proved how stubborn—perhaps even simple-minded—he really was.
By the time Hayashi finally returned home, the sky was dark. The battles had stretched on far longer than expected, and leaving the academy had been delayed even more because Tsunade kept blocking the way, demanding another round of gambling. When she finally left in frustration, she'd punched straight through a cherry blossom tree by the gate.
Later, the four of them stopped at Ichiraku Ramen, refueling after their exhausting day.
That night, Hayashi lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling with restless excitement.
It was time again to count his rewards. His favorite recurring ritual.
[Points are art.]
[My foolish system.]
[Hehehe…]