Rock Lee and Sand #1 stood facing each other, fists clasped and heads slightly bowed in mutual respect.
Unlike the other shinobi who performed the customary hand seals before battle, the two of them stood calmly, like seasoned taijutsu masters preparing for a duel.
Hayate Gekkō didn't say a word about the break from protocol. Every shinobi had their own path, their own way of expressing respect. The pre-battle seal was tradition, not law—and if these two had their own method, who was he to interfere?
Up in the viewing gallery, Uchiha Hikaru sat quietly behind the Hokage, watching Hayate's performance with a thoughtful nod.
Originally, Hayate had only been appointed as the third-round examiner to boost his visibility within the village. But Hikaru hadn't expected him to show such natural talent in the role—or to enjoy it so openly.
It seemed Hayate might just have a future in commentary and refereeing.
His presence was exactly what this stage needed: strong, commanding, and with a perfect sense of the match's danger levels. His dramatic rescue of Shino during the last bout had already proven that.
Now that Hayate had recovered from his blood illness, the dark rings beneath his eyes were gone. His frame had filled out again, and his posture carried strength. With clean delivery and a striking voice, he easily stirred the audience's excitement.
Hikaru sighed. The man had come a long way...
With a subtle signal from Hayate—
Bang!
Rock Lee and Sand #1 launched toward each other like spring-loaded beasts, fists and feet meeting midair with thunderous impact.
Straight punch. Arm block. Hook kick. Knee to counter.
Their limbs blurred, moving with deadly speed and precision, striking and countering with every inch of their bodies—fingers, elbows, knees, heels.
The only sound was flesh against flesh—raw, brutal taijutsu in its purest form.
The audience went wild.
No ninjutsu. No kunai. No substitution. Just fists, bones, and overwhelming speed.
It was simplicity incarnate—and it was beautiful.
In just the first two minutes, the two fighters had already clashed hundreds of times.
Then, as Lee twisted midair, he roared—
"Leaf Hurricane!"
Spinning horizontally, Lee's body became a human whirlwind, waist snapping as his right leg drove forward like a blade.
The violent gust tore through the air, aiming straight for Sand #1's upper body.
But Sand #1's eyes lit with passion, lips curling into a fearless grin.
"Wings: Silent Fist."
He drew his left elbow in front of his body, right fist coiled at his waist. His entire presence shifted—restrained, silent, and unreadable.
As Lee's spinning kick closed in, the wind simply... collapsed. Dissipated. As if it hit a vacuum.
When Lee's kick connected with his opponent's body, he felt nothing. It was like kicking into fog—no resistance, no pushback, just emptiness.
That split-second of delay was all Sand #1 needed.
His right arm lashed out like an owl's talons, snatching Lee's leg midair.
Twisting his body with expert precision, he grabbed Lee's calf with both hands and flung him forward, over his own shoulder.
Boom!
Lee spun in the air and managed to absorb most of the landing with his back, but the impact still sent a dull pain exploding through his torso.
He gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain. After all, this was nothing compared to Master Guy's hellish training—a love-filled nightmare of push-ups, waterfalls, and flaming punches of youth.
Using the recoil from the fall, Lee twisted and snapped a kick toward Sand #1's legs—
"Leaf Whirlwind!"
But once again, that eerie feeling returned—his power faded at the moment of impact. Still, his foot connected with the shin.
Sand #1's eyes twitched as pain jolted up his leg. He stumbled back two steps and stared at Lee's legs, then smirked.
"You're holding back," he said coolly. "Take them off. Fight me for real."
Lee's eyes shifted toward the stands.
There stood Guy-sensei, fist clenched, thumb raised, and his impossibly white teeth gleaming with pride.
A wide grin spread across Lee's face.
He dropped to the ground, cross-legged, and began unwrapping the thick bandages from around his calves.
In the stands, murmurs stirred.
"Wait... what's he doing? Is he injured?"
"No, it doesn't look like a wound."
"Are those... weights? That can't be serious. How much could they even weigh?"
Lee stood, now holding two enormous slabs of chakra-forged weights. Each bore the kanji for "Root."
Meanwhile, in the waiting room, Sand #2 was sprawled on a bench, munching an orange. The fruit plate beside her was already piled with peels, pits, and two empty plates.
She had no plans to buy anything from the Sand Village vendors. Why waste money?
More importantly, her opponent in the bracket was that monster of a girl.
She sighed. If she was going to get wrecked anyway, she might as well treat the day like a buffet.
Peeling another orange, she turned back to the screen just in time to watch Lee unwrap the weights.
She spat a seed into the bowl like a pea shooter, then snorted.
"Really? This kid thinks dropping a little weight is gonna make a difference? How naïve..."
Before she could finish, her eyes bulged.
On screen, Lee stacked both weights, then tossed them out of the arena.
BOOM!
A shockwave erupted from where they landed.
Dust shot into the sky, concrete cracked and shattered, and the floor cratered beneath the impact.
The entire arena went silent, mouths wide open in disbelief.
Those things were on his legs?! And he could still move?!
In the stands, Kakashi pressed a hand over his face.
"Guy... this is excessive. Seriously... was that really necessary?"
But Guy just kept staring, his expression glowing with pride.
"Kakashi, you don't understand," he said softly. "That boy's taijutsu talent surpasses even mine. And it's not because of some inherited gift."
"It's because of persistence. Of hard work."
"He doesn't know genjutsu. He can't perform ninjutsu. But he's a genius of effort."
(≧◡≦) ♡
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