Hayate stepped into the arena once more, clearing his throat with that classic raspy flair.
"Next match: Sakura Haruno vs. Shikamaru Nara!"
The audience murmured with interest—this was going to be an odd one. Not because they were weak. But because no one knew what to expect.
Up in the stands, Karin had just plopped into her seat, arms crossed and mood mixed.
"She better not give up like me or Ino, or we'll never hear the end of it from Naruto," she grumbled.
Ino, sitting beside her, tossed her hair dramatically.
"Please. Sakura's way too competitive to just throw in the towel. And she has that Good Luck Charm from Naruto now. So... she'll either win—or destroy the stadium trying."
Sakura walked down the corridor with a bounce in her step, Naruto's handmade charm dangling from her belt. A simple red cloth knotted with care, marked with a swirl.
"I won't lose. Not after all the training… and not with him watching."Her fists clenched. Her smile sharpened.
From the opposite tunnel, Shikamaru dragged his feet like he was headed to a math test he forgot to study for.
"Why me? I could be cloud-watching right now..."
In the crowd, Shikaku pinched the bridge of his nose."My troublesome son… always muttering about drags. Maybe it runs in the blood."
In the arena, the two genin faced each other. Sakura cracked her knuckles with confidence.
"Hi, Shikamaru," she said brightly.
He gave a lazy nod, hands still in pockets."Yo. Let's get this over with."
She smirked. "Don't blink. I might knock you out before you finish a yawn."
Shikamaru just sighed and looked up at the sky. "Great. A terrifying woman trying to kill me. Just my luck."
Hayate raised a hand.
"Begin!"
With his usual laid-back demeanor, Shikamaru formed a quick string of hand seals. Instantly, his shadow slithered toward Sakura like a snake hunting its prey.
"Starting early, huh?" Sakura smirked as she leapt to the side, effortlessly dodging the encroaching shadow.
Shikamaru clicked his tongue. "Tch… troublesome."
But Sakura was already on the move, her speed unreal—like a pink-haired storm. Shikamaru's shadow tried to keep pace, retreating as he repositioned, but she was faster.
She dashed forward, closing the distance in the blink of an eye.
Yet, just as her fist was about to connect—she froze midair.
"Gotcha," Shikamaru said coolly, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
"Oh? A backup shadow trap? Not bad," Sakura praised, a hint of excitement in her voice.
But then—with sheer physical power—Sakura snapped the paralysis. Her chakra-enhanced muscles flexed, and the binding shattered like thin glass.
Shikamaru's eyes widened. He narrowly dodged, but her punch still grazed his temple, sending a ripple of pain through his head.
Then her fist slammed into the ground behind him.
BOOM.
The stadium shook as a massive crater split the battlefield. Dust erupted, and silence fell—then the audience exploded with cheers, gasps, and unfiltered awe.
In the stands, Sakura's parents—Kizashi and Mebuki—were practically glowing.
"Dear, look at her," Kizashi said, eyes misty. "Our little girl's all grown up… and terrifying."
"Mm. She takes after me," Mebuki said smugly, arms crossed with pride.
A few rows away, Shikaku Nara wore a wry smile, one hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"So... brute force it is," he muttered.
He knew the odds weren't in Shikamaru's favor physically—but brains could still win wars. He'd raised his son well.
In the Kage box, Rasa let out a quiet hum, watching the arena closely.
"That strength… Tsunade's student?" he asked.
"Yes," Hiruzen confirmed with a knowing nod.
Rasa sighed. "Then the Nara kid's in for a rough time."
Hiruzen chuckled softly. "He might be. But the Nara don't win with muscle—they win with brilliance."
Rasa nodded. "The clan of shadows and strategy. High IQ, low EQ."
Both turned back to the arena, eyes gleaming with interest.
This fight was far from over.
The dust settled over the freshly made crater, chunks of stone tossed like popcorn across the battlefield.
Shikamaru stood at the edge, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple.
"What a drag… that punch would've sent me to meet my ancestors."
Sakura cracked her knuckles, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Tired already? I've barely started."
She lunged again—but Shikamaru side-stepped, and his shadow flickered unnaturally along the jagged edge of the crater. It wasn't just following the sun anymore. It was following a plan.
Shikamaru's eyes scanned the arena—calm, calculating. While dodging Sakura's bone-crushing blows with millimeter precision, he gathered data. Every crack in the earth. Every beam of sunlight. Every shadow cast.
Each near-miss from Sakura's fists left a gust of air or a crater in the ground. Even a graze could split skin. But Shikamaru danced just beyond reach, moving like a ghost in a warzone.
Quietly, his shadow stretched—slow, unassuming—creeping toward the stands. The angle of the sun was in his favor, and he used it like a seasoned general on the battlefield.
And then—click.
He connected his own shadow to a larger one cast by the arena walls and audience seating. With that, he didn't just gain range—he gained control.
Now, the field was his domain.
From that one link, dozens of tendrils began to unfurl like black serpents slithering out from every crevice. Shadows leapt from the broken stone slabs, the ruins of Karin's earlier fight, and from the debris littering the ground.
They rose. They twisted. They danced.
Sakura landed, braced for another strike—but her sharp gaze narrowed.
"Oh? So we're ganging up now?" she smirked, wiping dust from her cheek. "Guess one shadow isn't enough to stop me, huh?"
Shikamaru said nothing. His hands moved in slow tandem, guiding the web like a puppeteer. He'd long since abandoned direct confrontation. This was his true fight—strategy in motion.
Each shadow line twitched with purpose. From a few strands, it grew into a forest of binding cords—closing in on Sakura from all directions.
And then...
He didn't stop there.
Shikamaru's sharp eyes flicked to every chunk of debris, every raised platform, every cracked stone. He started syncing his chakra with the shadows beneath those, too. His trap didn't just spread—it gained verticality, dimension, depth.
This wasn't just a fight anymore.
It was a simulation.
A net of absolute control.
From the Kage box:
"He's rewritten the battlefield," Rasa muttered, brow raising in surprise.
"Shikamaru," Hiruzen smiled faintly, "turns every piece of his environment into an extension of himself."
Back on the battlefield, Sakura exhaled.
She could see the difference now.
"So this is your game, huh?" she whispered.
And yet, a grin spread on her lips.
"Then let's see if I can punch through a strategy."
The arena held its breath.
Shadows—thin and snake-like—whipped toward Sakura, coiling around her arms and legs like black ropes. Within seconds, they tightened. Choked. Strangled.
Sakura's breathing hitched as the grip closed in, pressing like iron bands across her body.
Shikamaru's forehead glistened with sweat. His hands stayed locked in position, channeling chakra into his technique with meticulous control.
"Just a little more…"
The shadows crept further—just inches from completely enveloping her.
But then—crack!
Sakura's heel snapped against a stone at her feet, sending it rocketing toward Shikamaru like a high-speed projectile.
His eyes widened. He couldn't block it. Not in time.
But this wasn't a death match—and he wasn't a fool.
With a grunt, he dodged just enough to avoid impact. And in that exact second—
The shadows slipped.
The tension around Sakura's limbs weakened for a heartbeat.
And that was all she needed.
She surged forward, chakra flooding her muscles. The ground trembled beneath her feet as she exploded off it, fist cocked and aimed squarely at Shikamaru's face.
His eyes barely caught the blur before him.
He couldn't dodge.
So instead—
"I GIVE UP!" he shouted.
Sakura's fist stopped a breath away—not hitting the ground, not touching skin, but slicing right through the air beside Shikamaru's face.
FWOOOOM.
The force of the punch alone carved through the wind like a shockwave, blasting his hair back and sending dust swirling violently behind him.
Shikamaru exhaled a very relieved sigh, his heart somewhere around his throat.
He turned his head slightly, seeing nothing but a sliver of empty space where her punch had just passed.
"If that had landed…"Even the idea made his spine tingle.
Sakura placed her hand on his shoulder with a grin that was way too cheerful for someone who almost obliterated him.
"Smart move, Shikamaru."
To him, that smile looked less like a compliment and more like death politely knocking on his door and saying, "Maybe next time."
Hayate, ever punctual, stepped forward and raised his voice,"Shikamaru has forfeited. Sakura wins and advances to the next round!"
The stadium erupted—not in celebration, but in a whirlwind of debate and confusion.
Once was fine.Twice raised eyebrows.But thrice? Three fights ending with someone giving up?
The murmurs turned into waves of loud discussion.
"Are these even real fights?""It's the Chunin Exams, not a sparring match!""He gave up just like that?!"
Still, not everyone joined the chaos.
Some in the crowd—especially the seasoned shinobi—nodded with quiet understanding.
"He made the right call. That punch would've turned him into paste.""Sometimes, survival is the smart move. He's a Nara, after all."
In the stands, Shikaku—leaning forward with arms folded—murmured with a small smile,"Still one step behind… but he gave his all. That's enough for today."
Sakura and Shikamaru exited the arena side by side.
Shikamaru shrugged, "What a drag... but I'd rather be in one piece."
Sakura chuckled, "Hey, you made me work for it. I'll give you that."
With the Kage:
Rasa stroked his chin, the faintest sign of respect in his tone,"He may have lost, but he gave a good fight. Calm mind. Quick decisions."
Hiruzen nodded, his gaze thoughtful,"Expected no less from a Nara. If it weren't for Sakura's overwhelming power, that battle might've gone very differently."
The crowd settled—restless, maybe, but eager.
Because now…
There was only one match left before the lunch break.
And it featured the boy who'd been stealing glances from every corner of the stadium.
Naruto Uzumaki.
Not just a genin anymore in the eyes of many.
Others whispered of his lineage—the son of the Fourth Hokage.
Even without titles or clan prestige,his name now stirred the crowd with curiosity, awe… and unease.