Chapter 12: Lessons in Failure
A roaring sphere of flame, five meters in diameter, erupted from Sasuke's lips, a testament to Uchiha prowess that belied her age. It roared across the clearing, a comet of incineration aimed squarely at Kakashi.
BOOM!
The explosion of heat and light was intense. Where Kakashi had stood, the grass was scorched black, curling into ash. The orange book he'd dropped, Icha Icha Paradise, was consumed in an instant, reduced to a few drifting, blackened flakes.
But Kakashi was not there. In the heartbeat before impact, a Substitution Jutsu had whisked him away. In the heart of the dissipating flames, a charred, log substitute stood as a mocking testament.
Sasuke, misreading the lack of a body, allowed a flicker of smug satisfaction to cross her face as she glanced at Naruto. See? This is real power.
From her hiding place, Sakura watched, her mouth slightly agape. The coordinated ferocity of Naruto's taijutsu and the devastating scale of Sasuke's fireball… compared to them, she felt like a spectator, not a participant. The gap was humbling.
Naruto felt no such satisfaction. His eyes scanned the field, hyper-alert. Kakashi isn't beaten. And we just burned his favorite book. He's going to be… motivated.
His gaze snapped to Sasuke. "Sasuke! Your feet!"
Too late.
The ground beneath her softened like quicksand. Two hands, caked in dirt, shot up and clamped around her ankles with vice-like strength.
"Earth Style: Headhunter Jutsu!"
Kakashi's voice, carrying a distinct edge of annoyance, emanated from the earth itself. With a wrenching thud, Sasuke was yanked downward until only her head and shoulders remained above ground, trapped up to her neck in solid dirt. Kakashi erupted from the ground beside her, brushing soil from his flak jacket. He glanced mournfully at the ashes of his book. A collector's edition…
His lone eye, now decidedly unamused, turned to the imprisoned Uchiha. "That," he said, his voice deceptively calm, "was a first printing."
Now. Naruto seized the fractional second of Kakashi's distracted ire. He closed his eyes, focusing inward. Not on the vast reserves, but on the quality of his chakra. He willed it to shift, to become sharp, slicing, restless. The nature transformation he'd grinded for years with his clones—Wind.
A faint, shimmering breeze began to swirl around his body, not disruptive, but smoothing the air before him, reducing drag. His clothes rustled softly. Then he moved.
It was not the speed of a talented genin. It was a blur that startled even Kakashi's seasoned reflexes. The jonin's head began to turn, but Naruto was already inside his guard, a kunai materializing in his hand, its edge aimed with lethal precision at Kakashi's exposed throat. The wind-assisted lunge had granted him speed rivaling a skilled taijutsu specialist.
Kakashi's body reacted on instinct. He arched backwards in a gravity-defying backbend, his palms slapping the ground, forming a human bridge. The kunai whistled through the air where his neck had been. As Naruto's momentum carried him over Kakashi's arched form, his free hand shot down, fingers closing around the two silver bells on the jonin's belt. A sharp tug, and they came free.
Naruto landed in a skid, turning, the bells clutched triumphantly in his fist. He held them up, a sharp grin on his face. "Got them, Kakashi-sensei!"
Kakashi straightened, his expression unreadable. "Did you?"
A cold trickle of doubt ran down Naruto's spine. He looked at the bells in his hand. They shimmered, distorted—
Poof!
They erupted into a cloud of thick white smoke right in his face. Before he could react, an arm snaked through the haze, locking around his neck in a chokehold, while another pinned his weapon arm. A knee pressed into his back, driving him face-first into the dirt. He was subdued in an instant.
The smoke cleared to reveal Kakashi holding him down. Naruto spat out a mouthful of grass, a rueful laugh escaping him. "A Shadow Clone transformation… you turned yourself into the bells when you substituted. I walked right into it."
"Perceptive," Kakashi said, his tone holding a note of genuine, if grudging, respect. "You forced me to use a jonin's level of trickery against a genin. I'll be reevaluating my notes on you, Naruto."
With Naruto and Sasuke neutralized, Sakura, trembling in her hiding spot, knew her time was up. She emerged, her face pale with fear and shame. Kakashi took one look at her terrified, unguarded expression and performed a single, subtle hand seal. A gentle Genjutsu—the Demonic Illusion: Hell Viewing Technique—washed over her. Her eyes glazed over, and she slumped to the ground, unconscious before she hit the grass.
The three of them were tied to three wooden training posts in the center of the field, the late morning sun beating down. Kakashi stood before them, his earlier lazy demeanor completely absent, replaced by a stern, impersonal authority.
"You have all failed," he announced, his voice flat. "Return to the Academy. You are not ready to be genin."
Sakura flinched as if struck, tears welling in her eyes. Sasuke's jaw tightened, her pale skin flushing with a mix of fury and profound humiliation. To be sent back… the disgrace was unimaginable.
Naruto simply listened, his head bowed not in shame, but in analysis. Kakashi got lucky with that clone trick. My taijutsu and speed pushed him. Sasuke's fire style is already potent. But we were individuals, not a team. That's the real failure.
"Sensei, please!" Sakura blurted, her voice choked. "Give us another chance!"
Kakashi ignored her, his eye resting on Naruto. "You came the closest. Your physical skills and that wind-assisted movement are beyond genin level. Your coordination with Sasuke showed tactical thinking. But 'close' is not a pass."
Naruto met his gaze, acknowledging the critique with a small nod, showing no arrogance. Kakashi felt another flicker of approval. The Fourth's composure.
Seeing no reaction, Sakura's hope crumbled. A single tear traced a path through the dust on her cheek.
Kakashi's stern expression softened, almost imperceptibly. "However… it is noon. I brought lunch." He produced two standard-issue bento boxes and placed them on the ground in front of Naruto and Sasuke, untying their hands to eat. He pointedly placed none before Sakura.
"Sakura exhibited no combat initiative and fell to a simple illusion. She forgoes lunch. A consequence." His tone brooked no argument. "You will eat here. If I see any of you sharing your food with her, you will be expelled from the test—and the team—immediately. Am I understood?"
He waited for their silent, grim nods. "I will return in one hour." With that, he vanished in a swirl of leaves.
Silence descended, broken only by the chirping of birds. Sasuke, after a tense moment, picked up her bento and began to eat with methodical, angry bites, her pride refusing to let her show hesitation.
Sakura stared at the ground, her empty stomach giving a loud, traitorous growl. The sound hung in the air, amplifying her humiliation. She felt Naruto's gaze and flushed crimson, a volatile mix of shame, hunger, and resentment bubbling over.
"What are you staring at?!" she snapped at him, her voice trembling. "Just eat your stupid food!"
Naruto had been about to speak, to offer some word or perhaps even his bento in defiance of the rule. But her sharp, defensive lash made him pause. He looked at the bento in his hands, then at Sakura's tear-streaked, defiant face, then at Sasuke's rigid, isolated posture.
He didn't open his lunch. Instead, he leaned his head back against the post, closing his eyes. The test wasn't about the bells. It wasn't about individual strength. Kakashi was engineering a choice, a brutal lesson in the very thing they lacked. Naruto understood the script. The question was, would his teammates? And more importantly, would he follow it, or write his own lines?
The clock was ticking. The real test had just begun.