The scene was disturbing—more so because they knew exactly who was responsible for such devastation. It was simply inhuman. Nearly two square kilometers of the Forest of Death were scarred with massive craters, deep fissures splitting the earth, and countless trees, some seventy to a hundred meters tall, shattered and felled as though they were nothing more than fragile twigs.
Where there should have been absolute darkness and shadow, there was now only a vast clearing, forcibly carved out by the colossal battle that had taken place. The full moon shone down, its silver glow illuminating everything with eerie clarity.
Anko could hardly believe what she was seeing. She had to cover her mouth with both hands to stifle a cry of alarm when, after walking for several long minutes across the cataclysmic scene, she came upon the titanic body of Manda—headless.
Kakashi approached cautiously, intent on examining the corpse of the massive purple serpent. What he found confirmed his suspicions: Manda had been decapitated by a single, clean, lethal strike. The cut was so precise it seemed unreal, especially considering the snake's girth—at least eight meters across. And that wasn't all. When he lifted his gaze, he saw a long stretch of trees, vanishing into the distance, all sliced cleanly in half at the same height as Manda's severed head.
"This was done in a single attack," Asuma concluded, lighting a cigarette and shielding the flame from the strong wind with one hand.
With the forest's dense vegetation obliterated, the wind rushed freely through the barren wasteland. The area no longer resembled a forest at all but a desolate plain littered with rubble and destruction.
"A long-range technique?" Kakashi asked, his lone eye fixed on Manda's severed body, its stump drenched in thick layers of dried blood. The beast had been unimaginably massive—easily six times Kakashi's own height in sheer thickness.
Anko, who had never actually seen Manda in person, stood pale and trembling, sweating as if she had just stepped out of a sauna. She couldn't even bring herself to look at the serpent's remains anymore. Instead, her gaze shifted to a gaping fissure so deep that, when she peered inside, she couldn't see the bottom.
"I can't be certain," Asuma finally replied, exhaling a long stream of pale smoke as he pointed upward, "but yes—it must have been a long-range technique. Look at the trees. Every single trunk was cut at the same height. Forty, maybe fifty meters up. That lines up with the height of the serpent when standing upright. Manda had to be at least a hundred meters long."
Sarutobi's words carried weight. Among those present, he was the expert in attacks that could slice through even the toughest materials using chakra-infused blades of wind. And yet, even with his mastery, Asuma's skills were strictly close-range. To cut through something as massive as Manda—or the enormous trees of the forest—with such immaculate precision, in a single strike no less, was beyond even him.
"And the head?" Anko's voice cracked as she spoke, trembling almost uncontrollably. Her question immediately drew both men's attention. "Where is the head?"
"Most likely with Orochimaru's body. Who knows? That's why we're here looking for Goten… or Trunks." Kakashi shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets as if in indifference. It was a calculated gesture to avoid alarming Anko—or giving away anything about the true situation.
Asuma played along, but Mitarashi was far from stupid.
"Damn it! Why are you acting so calm about this? We're talking about Orochimaru!" Her voice rose dangerously, nearly forgetting the need to remain undetected in case of spies or hidden enemies. "How do you expect me to believe some damned genin fought Orochimaru—and even killed him? Is that what you're suggesting? Do you think I'm an idiot?"
"No one thinks that," Asuma cut in quickly, irritation clear as the wind devoured his cigarette far too soon. "That's exactly why the Hokage sent you with us. Aside from him, you know Orochimaru better than anyone. We're here because we believe one of our students is behind all this."
Anko opened her mouth to protest, but Kakashi silenced her with a single, sharp look from his exposed eye.
"We can't tell you more. It's classified. And if we did…" His voice was calm, almost bored, but the words were chilling. "…we'd have to kill you right here. You know how this works."
Despite the monotone delivery, a shiver ran down Anko's spine. Whether it was fear or the faint tremor she swore she felt beneath her feet, she couldn't tell. In truth, it was both.
"Looks like the fight isn't over," Asuma muttered, turning his gaze toward the source of a distant rumble. "Or maybe… a new one has just begun."
Hayate couldn't believe his eyes. From the office where he had been just minutes ago, he thought someone had detonated a massive bomb outside the tower. Now, he wished that had been the case. Staring in shock, he focused on the boy in the green dogi—the one clearly responsible for the disaster—because he assumed it was him who had sent the genin with the gourd flying. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, that boy was still standing, even after such a monstrous blow.
"Is this genin alone? Where's the rest of his team?" Hayate thought, counting the three candidates wearing the headbands of Sunagakure. "How is it even possible that they reached the tower this quickly? The exam started less than two hours ago!"
The sight was so shocking that the sickly chunin's cough stopped altogether. His full attention was now on Gaara, whose deranged expression resembled that of a madman. He wore a grotesque smile stretched too wide, and his turquoise eyes—bloodshot and unblinking—radiated insanity.
And then there was his body. Gaara's skin was cracked, constantly shedding grains of sand as if he were crumbling alive. It was a strange, eerie technique unlike anything Hayate had seen.
"Your death will confirm my existence!" the bloodthirsty shinobi rasped, his voice jagged but loud enough for everyone to hear.
His twisted demeanor unsettled everyone. Hayate was disturbed by the sheer madness of it. Temari and Kankuro were frightened, worried that Gaara might completely lose control. Trunks, however, wasn't fazed anymore. He had already pushed past the initial shock and was now determined to fight, no matter how terrifying his opponent appeared.
Before he could attack, Gaara made his move. Without lifting a finger, a cloud of sand floating around him shot forward, sharp and spear-like. As if it wasn't enough that he could control sand, now he could shape it as well.
But to everyone's surprise, Trunks didn't dodge. He stood still, and with a casual swing of his arm, he smashed the spear of sand apart as if it were nothing. Even Gaara himself looked shocked. That simple attack was strong enough to pierce through solid concrete with ease.
Gaara didn't stop. He hurled more sand strikes in rapid succession, but Trunks swatted them down one by one, his sharp eyes never leaving his enemy.
"You want to kill me just to prove you exist?" Trunks said with a half-smile, brushing sand grains off his shoulder. "What kind of idiot are you? I've been waiting here since this exam started! Come on—make it worth my time!"
No one had ever spoken to Gaara like that before. The fury that consumed him nearly shattered his teeth from grinding them so hard. The veins in his neck bulged as his face twisted into a mask of rage.
He stretched out his hand. Immediately, the sand surged forward, wrapping itself around Trunks, engulfing him completely from head to toe. Only his face remained visible; the rest of his body was buried inside the enormous mass.
"Sand Coffin"
Gaara could have suffocated him then and there by covering his mouth and nose, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to crush him violently, to see his body explode into bloody fragments, to revel in the gore.
Temari and Kankuro already knew what was coming. They had seen this countless times before. Nobody escaped the Sand Coffin.
Everyone watched in silence as the mass of sand slowly levitated into the air, carrying its "helpless" prisoner high above the ground.
Once the sphere stabilized, Gaara clenched his fist, announcing the words so many victims had heard as their last.
"Sand Burial!"
Temari and Kankuro shielded their faces on instinct, bracing for the inevitable bloodbath. But after a few seconds of silence, they lowered their arms in shock. The sphere was still intact. And Trunks' face was still visible—untouched.
The boy's expression had changed. He wasn't just serious anymore—he was angry. The stench of dried blood within the sand was overwhelming, sickening. Coupled with the crushing pressure Gaara was trying to exert, it filled Trunks with disgust.
"You're a monster!" he spat, glaring at Gaara with a look that could have come straight from Vegeta himself—one that promised nothing but death.
For the first time, Gaara felt genuine fear. Panicking, he squeezed his hand tighter, forcing the sand to compress even harder. But it was useless. Trunks didn't budge. It was as if Gaara's strongest technique was a sham.
In reality, Trunks' body was simply too strong. His durability made the Sand Coffin meaningless. Still, he realized how deadly this ability would be to a normal human—it could crush a person like an insect in seconds.
With a furious shout, Trunks unleashed his ki. Not just a tremor, but a full earthquake shook the forest, rattling everything in sight. The ground split apart, massive boulders ripped free and floated into the air, pulled by the gravity-like force of his power.
The Sand Coffin shattered, its particles scattering like dust in a storm.
The shockwave was catastrophic. Windows of the tower burst apart, its walls cracked under the sheer pressure of Trunks' aura.
Temari staggered to her feet, wide-eyed, as the massive rocks fell back down, smashing into the earth and leaving enormous craters where they landed. She looked up.
And there he was. Trunks hovered above them, suspended in the air, his body surrounded by a violent cobalt-blue aura that whipped the wind into a constant, chilling breeze.
"Who is this boy? How can he have this much power?" Temari thought, shivering despite herself.
Hayate stumbled out from the tower's entrance, pale and shaken. He had never seen such raw power in his life. Just a brief surge of that energy had caused this devastation—and he knew it wasn't even close to Trunks' full strength.
Trunks' gaze never left Gaara. From the moment the boy was blasted into the air and slammed against a tree, to the moment he staggered back to his feet, Trunks waited. He wanted Gaara at his best. Saiyans did not fight dishonorably, even when their opponents were hopelessly outmatched.
"I'm right here!"
Gaara froze. He had been staring at Trunks hovering in the air—but suddenly, the voice came from right behind him.
It was impossible. Trunks had moved so fast that an afterimage lingered in the sky where he had been.
Gaara spun around, but too late. Trunks' kick slammed into his jaw with bone-shattering force. The sand armor cracked instantly. If not for it, his skull would have been crushed.
The kick released a shockwave so violent that it sent everyone crashing to the ground like ragdolls. The nearest trees splintered from the impact, shattering like fragile glass.
And Gaara? He was launched skyward like a rocket, tearing through the canopy until he was half a kilometer above the ground.
But when he looked down, the tower below him looked like a toy. And then—his blood ran cold. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind. Trunks had beaten him to the sky and was already waiting for him there.
"I learned this technique in a fight not long ago," Trunks said calmly into his ear, before flipping upside down.
The Primary Lotus.
This technique, Rock Lee used, Trunks simply locked Gaara in a crushing embrace and spun like a drill as they plummeted. But Trunks could fly—and he added his own speed to the spin, unaware of the destruction this combination would cause.
As they hurtled toward the earth, Trunks suddenly sensed three familiar presences below. His eyes widened. Anko, Kakashi, and Asuma had just arrived at the clearing, standing directly where he intended to slam Gaara into the ground.
His blood ran cold.
Too fast to stop, Trunks shifted his hold, twisting his body to shield Gaara with his own back. He slowed his fall as much as he could, but the momentum was still overwhelming.
"Move! Get out of the way!" Hayate screamed, sprinting out of the tower and waving frantically.
The three jonin didn't hesitate. Relying on pure instinct, they leapt aside without a second thought.
And then—
KABOOOOOM!!!
The impact shook the entire Forest of Death like a toy in an earthquake. The ground exploded beneath Trunks' body, the shockwave leveling everything in sight.
When the dust cleared, Trunks lay on his back, Gaara still clutched tightly in his arms.
The attack had taken less than a second, but the devastation was absolute.
Perhaps the three jōnin had avoided the direct collision, but that didn't stop them from being hurled away like helpless insects caught in a merciless whirlwind.
A column of dust and earth rose dozens of meters into the air. The massive boulders, once suspended by Trunks' ki and now lying on the ground, shattered into pieces as the shockwave struck them. Practically every tree within a hundred meters had been ripped out by the roots and flung aside as though they were no sturdier than twigs. Even the tower walls cracked further, threatening to collapse entirely had the blast been any stronger.
And it would have been—if Trunks hadn't managed to halt his descent at the last second. The Saiyan was an idiot. Ironically, the sudden arrival of the three jōnin prevented the disaster from turning into something far worse. Trunks had no idea what he was doing, and he honestly thought he'd held back enough power. He hadn't.
Everyone was injured—scrapes, bruises, battered bodies. The three jōnin had taken the worst of it, especially Anko, whose outfit left her legs riddled with cuts.
Hayate ended up nearly embedded in the tower wall. Temari and Kankurō rolled painfully across the ground, crashing into shrubs and rocks until they landed one on top of the other.
At the bottom of a massive crater—so deep and easily over a hundred meters wide—lay Trunks, flat on his back with arms and legs spread, covered in dirt. Gaara rested on top of him, barely conscious, his chakra almost completely drained. He had poured everything into reinforcing his sand armor and even transformed his gourd into a cushion to survive the fall.
And that was only because he'd landed on Trunks, who had absorbed nearly all of the impact himself.
The Saiyan's expression? Absolute shock. His wide blue eyes revealed the terror of realizing just how badly he'd messed up. He had nearly killed everyone—if not outright, then close enough to leave them crippled.
Only his lightning reflexes saved them. He'd spotted Kakashi and the others mid-fall with his hawk-like vision and adjusted at the last second. Hayate's warning shout also helped—without it, the jōnin would've been broken wrecks at the bottom of that crater.
Groaning, Trunks sat up slowly, wincing in pain. He lifted Gaara's limp body into his arms and began to float upward. The edge of the crater looked impossibly far.
When he finally reached the top, he landed at the rim and unceremoniously dropped Gaara a few meters ahead of him, like a sack of potatoes. Then he began brushing sand from his clothes.
"Damn it… what the hell did I just do?" he thought, glancing around as everyone staggered back to their feet, clutching their heads against the throbbing aftermath of the explosion.
"What the hell were you trying to do!?" Asuma shouted, clutching his temple and stumbling toward him. "Were you trying to kill us all?"
"I-I'm sorry, Asuma-sensei!" Trunks stammered, bowing quickly. "I didn't think it would be that dangerous—I really tried to stop myself, but it wasn't enough—so I—"
"Tried to stop yourself!?" Asuma cut him off, stunned. He grabbed Trunks by the shoulders and shook him. "That technique is extremely dangerous! This is what happens when you imitate a move you haven't mastered!"
"I didn't know… I won't do it again!" Trunks bowed again, desperate. "But please don't worry, that boy has a special technique—his sand protects him from any blow. I knew he could take it."
"You're wrong." Asuma's voice dropped, grim, as he turned Trunks toward Gaara.
The redhead was still unconscious, breathing in ragged gasps. His sand armor was shattered, cracked all over, despite the massive chakra he had poured into it. He was completely spent.
"You said you tried to stop. Imagine what would've happened if you hadn't."
Trunks' face went pale. The weight of his stupidity finally hit him. His eyes widened—he really had been on the verge of killing them all.
Looking around, he saw the destruction. The battlefield was wrecked beyond recognition, as though a natural disaster had struck. And it was all his fault—his miscalculation, his ignorance of the technique, his raw power unchecked.
Anko, white as a sheet, stared into the monstrous crater. Even by moonlight, its depth couldn't be gauged, and its width rivaled that of a football field. Hayate, pale and gaunt, looked equally shaken, haunted by what he had just survived.
But the worst was when Trunks saw Kankurō and Temari. The puppet master stood frozen at the tower entrance, staring blankly. Temari, trembling and scraped, still forced herself toward Gaara's body.
Kneeling beside her brother, she slipped an arm under his back and helped him sit up. Slowly, Gaara rose to his feet, leaning heavily on her shoulder. Together they began walking step by step toward the tower.
Trunks rushed forward to help. Asuma tried to stop him—it wasn't the right time—but failed.
"Do you want me to help you?" Trunks asked cautiously.
Temari stopped. She turned, glaring at him. Gaara kept his head down, barely conscious, but Temari's eyes burned with fear.
"Take the scroll after I see to my brother," she said quietly, trembling ever so slightly. "But leave us alone."
Her words hit harder than any impact with the ground. Trunks froze as she turned away, carrying Gaara inside. Kankurō followed them in, still glaring. Hayate went in as well to register their arrival—the Sand siblings had shattered the record time to the tower by four hours, despite the chaos.
Now, only the three jōnin and Trunks remained outside, silence stretching between them. The crater loomed, an undeniable reminder of the chaos.
"This is why I prefer being late," Kakashi muttered, scratching the back of his head. "The one time I show up on time, and this is what I get."
His silver hair was even messier than usual, his clothes torn to rags. He'd discarded his ruined vest, left only in black shirt and pants, mask still intact. Asuma wasn't much better off, though he clung to the remnants of his vest.
Trunks, meanwhile, stood without a scratch—his alien outfit tougher than anything they'd ever seen. Dusty, but intact.
"What, do you not even bleed?" Asuma smirked, scratching his beard.
Trunks didn't smile back. He was still shaken.
Anko, on the other hand, had lost all restraint. She stormed up to Trunks, forcing him to stumble back in fear before grabbing his collar in both fists.
"What the hell are you? How could you survive that!? How could you cause that!?" she shouted, shaking him violently.
"First things first, Trunks—" Asuma interjected quickly, trying to redirect her fury—"did you fight Orochimaru? What happened to him?"
Trunks blinked, confused. "Orochi-who?"
"Don't play dumb, brat! ANSWER ME!" Anko snarled, shaking him harder.
The Saiyan struggled against her grip, but hilariously, he couldn't break free. Violent, crazy women—his ultimate weakness.
"Tall, pale, long black hair, barely a nose, obsessed with talented children—!" Anko barked.
"…Is she describing Michael Jackson?" Trunks thought, panicked. "Let me go, you crazy woman!"
BAAAM!
Her fist crashed into his face, launching him five meters away. Kakashi and Asuma froze, horrified.
Trunks sat on the ground, clutching his swollen cheek like he'd just had half his teeth pulled, staring at Anko in terror.
She stood, breathing hard, her chakra spiking so violently it would've blown up Vegeta's scouter. She was as terrifying as Chi-Chi herself.
"I don't care who you are or where you came from! You're just a spoiled brat, and I won't tolerate your attitude!"
And without knowing it, she'd nailed the truth: Bulma spoiled him rotten, and only Vegeta's strict hand kept him from being much worse.
"L-let's… try this again," Asuma stammered, clearly shaken by the display. "Trunks, did you kill that giant snake?"
"You could've asked that from the start!" Trunks whined, a tear rolling as he pouted, springing back to his feet. "It was Goten! He killed it! He beat up the guy who summoned it, too—but he let him go since he wasn't a threat anymore."
"Not a threat!?" Anko barked again.
Trunks yelped, bolting behind Kakashi for protection. Kakashi froze in terror as the furious kunoichi now glared at him, too.
"Well, that clears a lot up, doesn't it?" Kakashi forced a nervous laugh, rubbing his neck. "That's the important part, right?"
"You're right," Anko sighed, suddenly exhausted. "Let's just head inside before we freeze out here." She tossed her ruined coat aside, too tired to care anymore.
None of them expected such a thing.
Asuma, slack-jawed, dropped the cigarette he had been about to light. Trunks' blue eyes went wide, convinced the woman had completely lost her mind. Kakashi, on the other hand, spun around immediately, clamping both hands to his nose to stop the torrent of blood streaming from it.
She wasn't naked, but the kunoichi's outfit left dangerously little to the imagination: a tight mesh bodysuit beneath a dark orange miniskirt. Trunks had never seen a woman with breasts that large before. Not that it would matter much—later on, he'd meet one that would almost knock him flat just from the shock.
"What are you waiting for, worms?!" she snapped, striding forward when she noticed no one else was moving. "I'm not a genin, I don't have to waste the whole night out here! And don't get any ideas, brat! Once you answer our questions, you'll be sleeping outside. No equipment, no staying in the damn tower!"
Without another word, the violet-haired kunoichi turned on her heel and continued toward the building. Unconsciously, Anko's hips swayed just enough to drive Kakashi insane. That night, Konoha's laziest jōnin wouldn't need Icha Icha to keep his dirty little mind entertained.
Meanwhile,
"What do you think all that was about?" Naruto finally asked once things returned to normal.
He didn't want to admit it, but he had been rattled. Brief as it was, the tremor had been massive—like a real earthquake. He even heard the bark of the colossal tree they were hiding under splinter and crack as if it were nothing.
"Do you think it had something to do with… Goten?" the blond asked hesitantly. By now, Goten's name had become something of a taboo around Sakura.
It was nearly midnight, and Team 7 was holed up beneath the sprawling roots of a giant tree. None of them felt much like sleeping, so they sat in silence. Their attempts to start a fire had failed, and Sakura eventually admitted it was probably for the best—no flame meant no risk of attracting enemy teams.
But it still wasn't enough. Hidden in the undergrowth, the Sound Trio were watching them, waiting for Sasuke to wake up so they could test him, just as Orochimaru had ordered.
"I don't know…" Sakura finally muttered after such a long silence that Naruto had almost forgotten he'd asked the question.
He wasn't always the most perceptive, but ever since they reunited, he'd noticed Sakura had been unusually quiet—speaking only when absolutely necessary.
"You know what, Sakura?" Naruto said, jabbing a thumb at his chest with his trademark fox-like grin. "I don't care what Goten said. He's our friend, and tomorrow morning we're going after him! You were the one who said it: the three of us are one. Well, now we're four, and that makes us the best team there is!"
Sakura blinked at him in disbelief. After a moment, she sighed, as if shedding a huge weight, and smiled warmly at him.
"Naruto… I want to apologize for all the times I treated you so badly…"
The boy could hardly believe what he was hearing. Sakura Haruno apologizing to him? It was almost too good to be true! He opened his mouth to ramble on, but she pressed on first.
"Yes, you can be loud, annoying, and immature most of the time. But that doesn't change the fact that you've grown so much stronger. Honestly, I admire that about you. Your determination is incredible. If you had been there, I know you would never have left Goten behind…"
Flustered, she dropped her gaze, resting her chin on her knees. Her hand combed through her pink hair as if trying to brush away the guilt gnawing at her.
Naruto knew perfectly well that anything could have happened to Goten, but he trusted his strength.
"Hey, it's not much, but if it makes you feel better, I'm sure Goten's fine," Naruto said with a softer, genuine smile—the kind where his eyes curved into little crescent lines. "He's way too strong to get beaten by some nobody. Damn it, the guy can fly! Where else have you seen that? It's insane!"
"You're right… It is insane." Sakura chuckled faintly, her mood lightening. She looked up again and smiled genuinely, the heaviness melting away. "Thanks, Naruto."
"So does that mean after the exam, you'll finally go out with me for some ramen?" he asked eagerly, fists clenched with excitement, his voice rising dangerously close to a shout.
"Don't get your hopes up!" she scolded, slapping her hand over his mouth to shut him up before he gave away their position.
Sigh, "Bet you'd say yes if it were Sasuke," Naruto muttered once he pulled her hand away, crossing his arms in a sulk.
"See? There you go again, being an idiot! You were better a minute ago!" she snapped, now raising her own voice despite her earlier warning. "Besides, Sasuke isn't that simple! Eating ramen isn't something he'd ever bother with!"
"Maybe you're right," Naruto said, rubbing his chin as though pondering life's deepest mysteries. Then his sly grin returned. "Buuut… I bet Goten would love ramen. If he asked you, what would you say?"
The question made Sakura blush ever so slightly. Out of nowhere, she felt flustered, tongue-tied, and nervous. She had to clear her throat before forcing a sharp reply.
"I already told you! Going out for ramen is stupid!" she barked, turning her head away to hide the inexplicable nerves creeping over her. "Just like Goten—he's a total idiot! I can't even picture him asking a girl out!"
"Tsk, is that so? Then maybe I was just imagining it when I saw him with Tenten. You know, the girl from Bushy Brows' team," Naruto said, feigning seriousness while choking back laughter. "They looked pretty cozy."
"Y-You saw him… with a girl?" Sakura stammered, her mind spinning.
"Yeah. She was showing him around the village… holding his hand, too." Naruto nodded sagely, biting his tongue to keep from laughing.
Sakura couldn't believe it. She never thought Goten was ugly—quite the opposite, actually—but she always assumed that strange, awkward tail of his would put girls off. But then she remembered seeing him holding hands with Hinata. Maybe it wasn't so far-fetched after all.
When she first met him, she swore she'd never get close to someone with such a weird tail. But now… she barely even noticed it anymore. It felt almost natural. And he had other traits girls might like.
She hadn't seen him shirtless, but from the brief brushes against him in training, she knew the boy was built. His orange gi hid a solid, well-trained body—sculpted by relentless training. Thinking about it now, she'd bet he was more ripped than any boy his age in the whole village.
"Could Tenten have noticed too? No… probably not. She doesn't know him that well. Unless she got close by accident… But what about Hinata? No way! She probably doesn't even know where babies come from…"
It was strange to watch the expressions Sakura made as she ran through the different possibilities in her mind. Shaking her head to dismiss the first thought, she remembered that he was also skilled in combat and knew how to survive well in the wild—just as he had proven when he brought them breakfast back in the Land of Waves. He had the nicest smile she had ever seen on a boy… and he could fly.
"Damn it, that's it! He took that tramp Tenten out for a ride the same way he did with me! Of course, any idiot would agree to go out with him—they'd be dazzled by the first flashy trick Goten showed them!"
She didn't even realize it, but she was starting to feel angry—furious, even—believing that the Saiyan had toyed with her somehow. That idea felt even more insulting and humiliating coming from someone as stupid and seemingly innocent as him.
"CHA! You're an idiot, Goten! With that horrible tail of yours, I bet you pull the same stunt with every girl you meet just to make them focus on something else! The next time I see you, I swear I'll kill you myself! CHA CHA!"
Inside her mind, Inner Sakura had completely taken over—wild-eyed, fists flying through the air in a blind rage, desperately wanting to smash them into the face of the oblivious Saiyan.
And then Sakura froze. No matter how much she turned it over in her head, she couldn't understand why any of this about Goten suddenly mattered so much to her. He could date whoever he wanted, and it shouldn't affect her in the slightest.
Maybe she was upset because another girl had managed to notice his good qualities long before she had… while she herself had only realized them much later. No—that wasn't true. She hadn't realized it until the moment she nearly died, being swallowed by that giant snake, that she finally understood the worth of the boy she had so often belittled. And to think—she had been the first to meet him, the one who had him on her very own team, and yet she'd failed to notice until then.
Meanwhile, the likes of that ditz Tenten or the weirdo Hinata had managed to figure it out far sooner. That made her look like a complete fool, didn't it?
Now she finally understood why she was always bickering with Ino: because the two of them were equally stupid.
"Sakura! What's wrong with you?" Naruto asked, his face full of genuine concern as he waved a hand in front of her to snap her out of her strange stupor. "You've been sitting there like an idiot for half an hour without saying a word. Are you okay?"
Snapping out of her thoughts, Sakura shook her head side to side, her cheeks burning red with embarrassment that her daydreaming had been so obvious.
"O-of course I'm fine! And my point still stands! Goten's an idiot, and if a girl goes out with him, that just means she's an idiot too!"
"But didn't you just say it was impossible for him to even get a girl?" Naruto teased, feigning innocence with a sly grin. "Well, I can't blame you. Honestly, I thought so too, since Goten seems more interested in other things."
"See? That's what I've been saying!" Sakura huffed, putting her hands on her hips and nodding as if Naruto had just confirmed her argument. "The only way a girl would ever be interested in Goten is if she's either crazy or just as dumb as he is." She said this, of course, indirectly referring to Tenten and Hinata.
Naruto was about to tell her that wasn't what he meant. Sure, the Saiyan could be distracted and a little clumsy, but he didn't see him as an idiot. Then he remembered the time he invited Goten to sneak into the store where he liked to peek at adult magazines. Naruto had been stunned when Goten didn't even seem to understand what any of those provocative photos of girls in swimsuits and lingerie meant. In fact, he showed almost no interest at all, being far more fascinated with the chocolate Pocky sticks displayed at the checkout counter.
"But—" Sakura spoke up again, pulling him back from his thoughts. "You said Goten was interested in other things. What exactly did you mean by that?"
A thick bead of sweat slid down the back of Naruto's neck. He had no idea where Sakura was going with all these bizarre questions. The whole conversation was strange. He had never discussed topics like this with her before… and honestly, he never thought he ever would.
Shrugging, he answered honestly.
"Remember, we've only known Goten for less than a month. But almost every time he talks, it's about food, or training he's done or plans to do, and some stuff about his family that I don't really understand—or care about…" As the Genin listed off Goten's interests, a mischievous thought suddenly crossed his mind. He figured he might as well mess with Sakura a little longer, since there wasn't anything better to do. "Oh yeah, that's right! One time, he actually told me what kind of girls he likes!"
"What? Are you serious? Goten actually told you something like that?" Sakura asked, more agitated than usual, her fists clenched and her voice rising. "I never would've expected that—it just seems so unlike him… But what did he say? Tell me everything!"
A short distance away, hidden behind thick bushes and undergrowth, the three Sound shinobi listened in disbelief to the ridiculous conversation. They could hardly fathom that such a pair of idiots belonged to the same team as the much-praised and talented Uchiha. It almost felt as though Orochimaru had overestimated them.
"No way! I swear, if I hear one more piece of nonsense, I'll rush out there and kill them all right now!" Zaku growled through clenched teeth, yanking at his spiky black hair in frustration.
"I know, it's unbearable. I feel the same," Dosu muttered in his deep, measured tone, sounding just as fed up as his teammate. "But now isn't the time. Sasuke still has to awaken. If it doesn't happen by sunrise tomorrow, then we strike regardless."
"Shhh!" Kin snapped, glaring at them with uncharacteristic severity. Zaku and Dosu instantly felt ashamed for raising their voices and risking the mission. "Be quiet for once! The conversation is just getting interesting!"
The two nearly toppled over in disbelief. Their teammate was a lost cause—when it came to gossip and boys, there was no saving her.
In fact, it was starting to feel less like they were in the deadliest forest in Konoha and more like they were stuck in some pajama party. Naruto was spouting every silly thought that came to mind, and Sakura, her wide green eyes fixed on him, seemed to believe every word.
For reasons even she didn't understand, Sakura had abandoned her usual logic and was falling headfirst into Naruto's lies. What he was really doing was studying Sakura's features and then saying that Goten liked the complete opposite.
"He also told me he's drawn to girls with short hair, preferably black or brown."
"Sh-short? Black or brown?" Sakura stammered, immediately picturing Tenten and Hinata in her mind. Hinata's hair wasn't exactly black, but close enough—and at this point, Sakura wasn't thinking clearly at all. To her, Hinata's hair was the blackest in all of Konoha.
"Exactly," Naruto nodded, arms crossed and lips pressed tight so his smirk wouldn't show. "And another thing: he pays close attention to clothing. He hates flashy colors like yellow or orange—don't even mention red! He prefers pale or pastel shades. Oh, and he really dislikes green eyes. Said they remind him of someone unpleasant from his home village."
Once again, images of Tenten and Hinata flashed through Sakura's head. Naruto wasn't even aiming for them specifically, but the contrast lined up perfectly. And with every word, Sakura realized more and more just how opposite she was to everything Naruto claimed Goten liked.
Up until recently, she thought she was too mature for Goten—dating him would have been a favor, an honor she was too dignified to grant. Now she was forced to consider the possibility that, to him, she wasn't even worth looking at.
"And that's not all," Naruto continued, raising a finger like a teacher about to conclude his lecture. "He told me chest size matters to him. He doesn't like women who are too skinny; he prefers them curvier, with fuller figures. But above all, he said he likes girls with delicate features—small nose, small mouth, small forehead." He emphasized the last word.
That struck Sakura like a kunai to the heart. She suddenly remembered when Goten once said she was too skinny, that if she lost any more weight, she'd be nothing but forehead. Now she felt certain: to him, she must look hideous, undesirable—ugly. The same way she judged his tail. A taste of her own bitter medicine.
Naruto hadn't meant it cruelly, but this time, he had gone too far. Normally, Sakura would have seen through such lies, but exhaustion and shock clouded her judgment. She swallowed every word whole.
"W-well, everyone has their own tastes," she muttered nervously, biting her lip and curling her toes in frustration. "But honestly, I think Goten's awful. Have you seen his hair? What's wrong with it? Didn't anyone teach him to comb it after he wakes up?"
"Well, it's unusual, sure, but I think you're—"
"And that tail of his? Total freak show. And don't get me started on his stupid grin! Why is he always so cheerful? It drives me insane! And that gi—does he wear it just to show off? Just because he practices martial arts doesn't mean he has to dress like he's constantly ready for a fight! It's maddening!"
Naruto began to sweat nervously. He only wanted to tease her a little, not make her outright hate Goten. If things went too far, it would only fracture the team.
"You can find him on your own tomorrow if you want," Sakura snapped, standing with her hands clenched. "As far as I'm concerned, Team 7 has three members. Goten isn't one of us." She knew it wasn't true—her anger was making her say things she didn't really mean. "Anyway, I'll take the first watch. In three hours, it's your turn."
Without waiting for a reply, she stormed out of the shelter, kunai in hand, gripping it so tightly that the veins in her arm bulged.
But once she was far enough from Naruto, her harsh expression crumbled. Her brows arched weakly, and she bit her tongue without realizing it. The irritation inside her had melted into something else—something that felt like sadness. She couldn't understand why those things Naruto had said affected her so much.
Meanwhile, Goten sneezed nonstop all night long, plagued by some strange allergy that left him restless and kept the entire Team 8 awake. Kiba nearly wanted to strangle him.
All the while, between Naruto and Sakura, far too much had been said about him.