The arena was alive with restless energy. The first clash between the heirs of the Hyūga and the Kohaku clans had set the tone—brutal, decisive, and filled with the kind of precision only the heirs of noble clans could deliver.
As the murmurs and cheers still buzzed through the air, I leaned against the railing of the Uchiha section, my shiny Gengar hovering lazily beside me with a grin far too wide for the seriousness of the moment.
"Hyūga kid was cold," I muttered, watching the medical team carry Shigeki Kohaku out of the ring. "Didn't even give him breathing space once he turned the tide."
Gengar chuckled, its shadowy form vibrating with glee. 'That Hyūga brat fights like me—straight for the soul. Precise… suffocating.'
I smirked. "And here I thought you'd root for the cheerful golden boy."
'He had flair, sure… but flair doesn't matter when your chakra flow gets shut down like a broken lantern.'
My eyes lingered on Hinuru Hyūga as he stepped off the arena floor, his pale eyes calm, his face unreadable. The Byakugan didn't lie; it dissected, analyzed, and crushed. Shigeki had fought valiantly, but in the end, the inevitability of Hyūga precision triumphed.
"Guess the old saying holds true," I muttered. "Against the Hyūga, don't let them touch you—or it's over."
Gengar's eyes glimmered mischievously. 'Would be fun to see him try that on me. Touch me all you want, and poof—I'm gone.'
I grinned. "Maybe one day. But for now… the next match should be interesting."
---
The Proctor's Voice
The proctor, a seasoned Samurai with a scar running across his cheek, raised his voice, drawing the restless crowd's attention back to the ring.
"Next preliminary match! Kaito Mitokado, heir of the Mitokado clan—versus Inoka Yamanaka, heir of the Yamanaka clan!"
The crowd erupted in curiosity. Both clans were old and respected, though rarely in the limelight like the Uchiha or Senju.
"Yamanaka, huh?" I murmured, turning to Gengar. "Mind techniques. This should get creepy fast."
Gengar's grin stretched wider. 'Ooooh, I like creepy.'
---
The Combatants Enter
Kaito Mitokado stepped into the arena with the sharp precision of a soldier. His black-and-gray armor clung close to his form, minimalist but efficient, leaving little room for wasted motion. His sharp brown eyes scanned the arena like a hawk calculating prey.
On the opposite side, Inoka Yamanaka entered with elegance, her golden hair tied in a high ponytail swaying as she walked. Dressed in flowing white-and-red robes, she seemed almost delicate—but her sharp green eyes gleamed with quiet cunning.
She bowed politely to the proctor, then raised her gaze to Kaito with the faintest, knowing smile.
"She doesn't look nervous at all," I observed.
'Why would she? Her fight isn't about strength,' Gengar whispered in my mind, shadows curling mischievously. 'It's about control.'
---
The Match Begins
The proctor's hand sliced through the air.
"Begin!"
Kaito wasted no time. He blurred forward, hands flashing through seals before his speed surged unnaturally—Wind Release: Gale Step! His kunai gleamed, already aiming for Inoka's shoulder in a precise strike meant to end things before they began.
The crowd gasped at his speed.
But Inoka moved differently. She didn't dodge with frantic desperation—she slipped just enough out of reach, her hands weaving subtle seals.
The air shimmered.
Three… four… five images of her flickered into being, surrounding the arena floor.
Genjutsu: Phantom Echo.
Kaito's kunai slashed through the nearest illusion, only for the figure to melt into smoke. Another appeared at his flank. He slashed again, only to meet air. His brow furrowed as the crowd cheered.
"She's making him waste energy," I muttered. "Smart."
Gengar's chuckle echoed. 'I like this one. She fights like a ghost—slippery, manipulative.'
---
Kaito's Counter
Kaito clicked his tongue, retreating sharply. His hands blurred through another set of seals.
Earth Release: Stone Shards Barrage!
The arena floor cracked as jagged stones shot outward like shrapnel. The illusions shattered one by one, until the real Inoka rolled aside, a shard slicing across her arm. Blood stained her sleeve.
Kaito smirked. "Found you."
He pressed forward, kunai ready to deliver a decisive strike.
But Inoka's lips curved faintly, almost… amused.
---
The Trap Springs
Her green eyes locked onto his.
Her hands flew into precise seals.
"Mind Body Switch Jutsu."
Kaito staggered, his body freezing mid-step. For an instant, his consciousness resisted, willpower flaring. He bit down, released a smoke bomb, and disappeared within a gray haze.
The arena went quiet, the crowd craning their necks.
Within the smoke, Kaito's voice whispered:
"I won't fall for it so easily."
But when the smoke cleared—Inoka was standing exactly where she had been. Smiling.
Kaito's eyes widened. His body twitched, then stiffened. Against his will, his hand raised, his kunai dropping uselessly to the ground. His knees buckled.
"Impossible…" he gasped. "When…?"
Inoka tilted her head, her voice calm, unhurried.
"You fell into my trap the moment you looked into my eyes."
With a final gesture, she forced him to kneel.
The proctor's voice rang out:
"Winner—Inoka Yamanaka!"
---
Aftermath
The crowd erupted, half cheering, half murmuring uneasily. The Yamanaka arts were feared for a reason—few things were as unsettling as losing control of your own body.
Kaito's fists trembled as he regained his body. Though humiliated, he bowed stiffly before leaving the arena, his pride barely intact.
Inoka, serene as ever, gave a polite nod before walking off, her golden hair swaying as though the battle had been nothing more than a minor distraction.
"She's terrifying," I said aloud. "That calm smile? Cold-blooded."
Gengar's grin widened. 'Oh, I like her. She's my kind of human. Creepy little puppeteer.'
I exhaled, leaning back. "First the Hyūga, now the Yamanaka. This competition is going to be brutal."
But even as I spoke, the proctor's voice rose again, preparing to announce the third match.
The crowd quieted, anticipation sharpening the air once more.
I leaned forward, heart pounding.
"Here we go…"
The proctor lifted the next slate of names, his voice ringing across the arena:
"Third preliminary match—!"
The names echoed, but my focus sharpened instantly, my breath catching in my throat.
Because the next match wasn't just any fight.
It was a fight that could change everything.
---
End of the Chapter
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