"Goku, I understand your situation. It can't be easy," King Kai finally spoke up once the Saiyan had grabbed his thirtieth bowl of food, though that didn't stop him from shoveling down the different side dishes scattered across the table. "But that doesn't mean you can just stay here! At some point, you have to go back home!"
Goku tried to answer immediately, but his mouth was so stuffed that all that came out was a muffled mess of sounds.
"What a rude boy! Goku, at least have the decency to chew your food before you talk!"
Obeying the deity with the quirky accent, Goku swallowed everything in one go, his neck bulging to nearly twice its normal size as the massive lump of food slid down his throat.
King Kai's grimace said it all. Disgust didn't even begin to cover it.
"I told you, once I finish, I'll go back. Don't worry, King Kai. I just want to eat as much as I can… because when Chi-Chi finds out…"
He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. A shiver, sharp and merciless, ran down his spine. He had to take a deep breath to muster some courage — otherwise, he'd end up too nervous to eat and with a stomachache on top of it.
For the next twenty minutes, the only sound in the tiny planet's garden was the relentless clatter of chopsticks against porcelain bowls, until Son finally polished off the very last grain of rice. Just in case it was his final meal, Goku ate like he hadn't in ages.
Leaving behind a ridiculous mountain of dirty dishes, the impolite Saiyan bid King Kai farewell without even wiping his mouth. Then, with two fingers pressed to his forehead, he vanished — teleporting back home to Mount Paozu.
Two in the afternoon marked the end of the exam. Only a few changes took place, aside from two teams that arrived at the last possible moment.
To cut down the competition, Dosu's team had stayed outside the tower for nearly an entire day, ambushing and stealing the scrolls from two unsuspecting teams that were trying to get into the preliminary rounds. It turned out to be the right choice, because once they entered, they were met with an overwhelming number of genin — more than twenty candidates in total.
In fact, for the first time in five years, the organizers had no choice but to hold a preliminary round. That alone drove Anko up the wall. She lashed out at Ibiki for letting so many through, and now she was in the same situation herself. No doubt about it — the candidates this year were on another level. Naruto's generation of shinobi really was something special.
All the genin stood in neat formation at the center of the arena, facing their jounin leaders and several exam officials. Everyone was waiting for Hiruzen Sarutobi's speech to begin.
"I see your team didn't do too badly, Kakashi," Maito Gai muttered smugly. "Ha! But don't get the wrong idea. It was nothing but luck. The next stage is all about combat skills, and my team has proven themselves superior in every way. Maturity means learning how to handle disappointment, don't you agree, Kakashi?" He finished with a ridiculous smile, his perfect white teeth gleaming like a spotlight.
Kakashi turned his face toward him with that same heavy, tired, cynical look he always used."…Did you say something?"
The green beast of Konoha tugged dramatically at his thick eyebrows, dropping to his knees in despair. The entire room seemed to darken, and a lone theater spotlight illuminated only him, crushed and defeated. Another victory for Kakashi… at least in Gai's head. For the silver-haired jounin, it meant nothing at all.
The Hokage cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention at once. Everyone except Goten, who was still staring at the giant statue of clasped hands in the arena, wagging his tail absentmindedly — much to Hinata's distraction behind him.
"Before I give you the instructions, I need to explain something about the exam itself. Pay close attention. This is something you must understand."
Attention. That word alone made Goten tense up. He'd heard it a thousand times from his mother when she was scolding him into doing his homework. Just remembering Chi-Chi yelling at him was enough to make him sit up straight and listen to the old man.
"I'm going to tell you the real purpose of these exams. Why do you think our country runs this test together with our allies?"
The question was rhetorical. The old man lowered the brim of his red hat slightly, shadowing his face. After a pause, and once the students' uneasy silence had settled in, he continued.
"Part of the purpose is to raise the skill level of shinobi, as well as to build trust and friendship among allied nations. However…" He removed his pipe and exhaled a thick cloud of white smoke. "…the true purpose is something else. These exams are a stage — a representation of battle between the allied nations. In short, it's a tradition."
The genin looked more confused than before. It sounded contradictory. Trunks narrowed his eyes, clearly interested. He wanted to know more.
"It's no secret that in the past, these so-called allies were once enemies, fighting for dominance and territory. But rather than suffer massive military casualties, the nations agreed to select champions to represent them. They would fight in a neutral location, chosen by mutual consent. In other words, these exams provide a place where shinobi can carry their nation's pride on their backs — and fight for their very lives."
The Hokage fell silent. The hush was absolute. Many genin were shaken; they had thought the exams were simply about selecting capable chunin. Not about continuing a bloody, brutal tradition rooted in war, death, conflict, and the darker instincts buried in human nature.
"Our nation's pride…?" Sakura whispered so softly that only Sasuke, standing right beside her, caught it.
"In the third round," the Hokage continued, "the leaders and influential figures of the allied nations will be present. They use these matches to judge the strength of each village. Strong nations receive more mission requests. Weak nations are rejected. That's why it is vital that we demonstrate the true military power of our village."
"And why should we risk our lives for that?!" Kiba burst out, cutting him off. His outburst made Kurenai frown — if only he could take a page from Hinata's book.
"The strength of the country is the strength of the village. The strength of the village is the strength of the shinobi." Sarutobi's voice was stern, sending a chill down Kiba's spine. "And the true nature of a shinobi only comes out when pushed to the limit, in a battle of life and death. These exams are the chance for every country to show the strength of its shinobi — and therefore, its nation. That's why you, and those before you, fight in the Chunin Exams. It is the fulfillment of a dream."
"Then why did you say it was also about trust between nations? That makes no sense!" Tenten interrupted. Goten looked at her in surprise, then nodded furiously in agreement — though in reality, his brain was completely fried and he hadn't understood a thing.
"You only listened to half of what I said!" the old man replied, not angry but amused. He was pleased at least one genin cared enough to ask. "Don't misunderstand. These exams are a custom built on both fighting and dying. That balance is what creates friendship." His gaze fixed sharply on Trunks at the front. "In our shinobi world, that is friendship. The next stage will be life-or-death battles — for the pride of your village, and the weight of your dreams."
"…Nonsense."
The word froze the room. No one was more shocked than Asuma, pale at the blatant disrespect from his student. To dismiss the Hokage's words was nearly blasphemy.
But Trunks, despite his age, had his reasons. He couldn't fully understand their world, just as they couldn't understand his. Their worlds were built on completely different foundations.
In Trunks's world, there were no nations constantly at war. Earth was ruled as one, under King Furry — a blue dog who served as a fair and just monarch to all humans alike.
Because of that, wars didn't exist. The only threats came from groups with selfish ambitions, like the now-destroyed Red Ribbon Army, thanks to kid Goku. Beyond that, enemies were aliens bent on conquest or destruction. Humans didn't fight each other for territory or national dominance.
They fought out of passion. Out of the thrill of martial arts and personal growth. Even if it wasn't always for noble causes, it was still humanity's favorite pursuit — and it kept the gods satisfied. That wasn't the case in Naruto's world.
At last, the Hokage concluded.
"Goten and Trunks, you are disqualified from the exams. Please, come with me to my office."
The announcement stunned everyone. Even the Saiyans weren't as shocked as the rest of the genin. Their teammates couldn't wrap their heads around it, while others — like Neji and Kabuto — found themselves equally stunned.
A small nod from the Hokage signaled Anko to step forward with a written report, containing the details of the current participants.
"Son Goten: one C-rank mission. Brief Trunks: one B-rank and one incomplete C-rank mission. Neither of them meets the minimum requirement compared to the rest of their teammates. A total of nine missions is required to qualify for the exams. Therefore, they are disqualified, with no chance to reapply for chunin status."
Yes, it was incredible. The punishment seemed excessive, but there was more. How could such a pair of idiots fool the system with something so stupid and laughable as the number of missions? No one could believe it.
Kabuto's suspicions only continued to grow. Once he saw Sasuke's abilities with his own eyes, he'd quit the exam and report back to Orochimaru—who, for obvious reasons, wasn't present in the form of a disguised jōnin. There was far too much hidden behind those two boys.
Hiruzen Sarutobi began to withdraw, closely followed by Kakashi and Asuma.
"My apologies, but this matter must be dealt with immediately. Hayate, I leave it in your hands…"
The sickly examiner stepped forward, coughing like a man suffering from the gravest of respiratory diseases.
Sakura wanted to intervene, as did Naruto. It seemed utterly unfair that their teammate would be disqualified like this. And besides, it was undeniable that they had nothing to do with the mission count fiasco. For heaven's sake, they'd only just returned to the village less than a month ago! After the Land of Waves, they hadn't had a single mission. Clearly, they'd been allowed to participate despite that fact, but why was the Hokage suddenly changing his mind now?
Both decided to keep quiet when they noticed Kakashi's fierce stare. He had clearly guessed their intentions and was warning them not to interfere. What was even more astonishing was the cold composure the two boys showed as they stepped out from among the genin, following the highest authority of Konoha and their respective sensei with steady, determined steps.
"I imagine you already know why I've decided to disqualify you," the old man declared from behind his desk, setting his pipe aside to focus on the two boys standing before him. Asuma and Kakashi leaned against the wall, arms crossed, ready to step in if needed.
"I swear, sir! We didn't do anything! The missions thing—"
"Don't be an idiot, Goten," his friend cut him off almost resentfully. "This isn't about missions. I'll bet he figured out what we're capable of and doesn't want us drawing too much attention… or wrecking the place. Am I wrong?" A sly grin crossed his face when the old man chuckled, proving he'd guessed correctly. "Though I think the real mistake was yours, for not asking us to demonstrate our abilities sooner. Would've saved us all this nonsense… Although, if we hadn't participated, Sakura and Naruto would've been killed by that Orochimaru. Ask Goten!"
"You're right," the Hokage admitted with an amused gesture, realizing the conversation would be shorter than expected. "I didn't think it was enough to worry me, but Orochimaru and your encounter with Gaara… that was too much, more than I anticipated. I want you to understand—you cannot fight here. The genin could get seriously hurt."
"Speaking of which, Trunks," Asuma decided to speak, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps toward his student, "why did you think the Hokage's words were nonsense? You have no idea how our world works."
"But I do know how ours works," he cut in arrogantly. Clearly, Bulma's irreverent streak ran strong in the spoiled half-Saiyan, not to mention Vegeta's. "Where we come from, there's no such nonsense as enemy or allied nations. Everyone answers to a single King, and the army works for the common good—protecting all humanity, against anyone who would dare disturb world peace just to expand their power."
"And I suppose this army of yours is made up of…?" Kakashi tried to guess, since aside from the boys and their parents, everyone else was human.
"Ordinary humans. Only, they have weapons far more advanced than yours—things like airplanes and war tanks." None of the shinobi understood such terms. It was impossible to picture something you'd never seen. "But that's not the point. The point is that the army rarely does much. When Earth has been threatened by beings from other planets, only we can do something about it."
"You mean you, your parents?"
"And my brother, Gohan. And my father's friends who also know how to fight, and—"
Trunks raised a hand to cut Goten off before he could start counting on his fingers every person he knew. Good thing too, or he might've brought up 18, and explaining the androids would've been a nightmare.
"I apologize if I offended you," Trunks finished, shifting his attention back to the Hokage and giving a small bow. "It's just that it struck me as strange. We don't fight for things like that."
"Then why do you fight? Why keep training if you're already so strong?"
In the shinobi world, when a ninja reached a certain level, they trained to maintain it. But constantly seeking to get stronger wasn't normal. After all, as humans and chakra users, there was always a limit. For Saiyans, there wasn't.
"There are two reasons," Trunks said, Vegeta's trademark smirk shaping his face. "One of them is for pleasure…"
A chill ran down the shinobi's spines. Luckily, the boys weren't evil, though their concept of battle was even more ridiculous and senseless than Sarutobi's explanation.
"P-pleasure?" Asuma stammered. The idea struck him as downright savage, almost monstrous. "You fight for pleasure?"
"It's true—we really like to fight. And the stronger and more dangerous the enemy, the better. It makes me so happy, my heart beats fast—I get so excited!"
It seemed impossible that such words came from someone as innocent and cheerful as Goten. But after what he'd done to Manda and the forest, no one could take him lightly.
"We can't help it," Trunks added with a serious look, so they'd stop staring at his friend as if he were deranged. "My father told me Saiyans are a warrior race by nature, genetically built for battle. And even though we're not pure, we still carry part of that blood. We love fighting. As long as we keep training, our power will never stop growing—it has no limit. If we survive a battle and recover from our wounds, the experience alone makes us much stronger."
"And what happened to the Saiyans? Why did your parents come to Earth? Were they exiled or something?"
It was almost funny, the way Kakashi kept throwing out questions. Calm and unshakable as always, yet inside, curiosity was eating him alive.
"My father and Goten's were the only survivors. My dad used to wipe out entire races just to sell their planets later, and the guy he worked for destroyed his own. No one else was left. My father survived because he wasn't on his homeworld when it all happened…"
"Whoa, Trunks, that's an awesome story! I didn't know that one, it's great!" Goten chimed in with his usual cheerful grin, a tone that clashed hard with the sheer horror etched on the shinobi's faces. "All I know is that my dad was sent to Earth as a baby to conquer it—since it was such a weak planet!"
That was the last straw. Right in front of them stood two little monsters, sons of what had to be the worst kind of scum the universe had ever spat out. Kakashi nearly choked when he remembered his first conversation with Trunks, when the boy had said that someday, someone might come looking for them.
"It's not what it looks like," Goten quickly added, surprisingly sharp despite his innocence, noticing Asuma sweating bullets. "Our dads aren't bad people, really, though…" He leaned forward, cupping one hand to the side of his mouth so Trunks wouldn't hear his whisper, "Trunks' dad is scary as hell, though. Real demon of a temper…"
"Goten, I'm right here, idiot. I can hear you. And yeah, I'll admit—my dad's a little different from yours…"
None of that mattered much to the adults in the room. They were still stuck on the images of exploding planets, exterminated races, alien invasions, and fighting for the sheer joy of it.
"I just hope you understand my decision. I didn't think you were capable of so much, but keeping you this close to the other genin is a danger. You have to learn to control your power, otherwise—"
"Wait." Trunks cut him off, real alarm creeping into his voice now at what the old man was about to say. "You're not planning to pull us out of our teams, are you? I-I think that's an exaggeration, r-really…! We do know how to control our power, I swear!"
It was obvious—he didn't want to be torn away from his friends. Goten was his only true friend, sure, but things felt different now. He hadn't known the others long, hadn't talked much either, but he deeply valued the way they treated him—like he was just another kid, despite knowing how terrifyingly strong he was. And above all, he didn't want to be away from Ino.
"I know it was a mistake, what I did to that Sand kid," he continued, stumbling nervously over his words, "but I promise I'll never use that technique again, I swear! And look at Goten! You probably think what he did was bad, but I know him—he held back to do as little damage as possible!"
"That's right!" Goten shouted, planting a foot on the Hokage's desk and throwing a fist triumphantly into the air—making himself look even more childish than he already was. "When that giant snake started to go out of control, I cut its head off right away! ZAAAAS! To stop anyone from getting hurt! I'd never fire a Kamehameha without—"
Trunks slapped a hand over his mouth instantly, laughing nervously. The last thing they needed was the ninja poking into the energy techniques they could unleash. The little "weak" ki blasts they'd seen—that was the most they could risk showing.
Kakashi raised an eyebrow, sensing an opening.
"So, a… Kamekameha, was it?"
"It's called Kamehameha!" Goten yelled, breaking free of Trunks' grip and sealing their fate. Trunks wanted to kill him.
"I take it you're not going to explain," the jounin continued, watching Trunks smother his friend again, this time for good. "But I'm guessing it's an extremely powerful, destructive technique… which gives us even more reason to separate you. Still, you'll remain under our supervision."
"Please, wait! I promised Sakura I'd train her! She wants this—she needs the help!"
They weren't bad kids. They were just clinging desperately to stay with their companions, because somehow, they really had built some kind of bond.
"I'm sorry, but I can't take the risk," the Hokage said with heavy regret, seeing the disappointment on both faces. "From now on, you can't work with your teams. It's too dangerous, and besides, you won't go unnoticed. Too many already suspect you. If you want to live in Konoha, you'll follow our rules…"
A double-edged sword. What if they decided to leave and Kumogakure took them in? That could be catastrophic. Hiruzen's only hope was that if they didn't want to leave their teams, they'd be even less likely to leave Konoha itself. They had to stay hidden until it was safe.
"Fine." Trunks snapped, standing abruptly and knocking over his chair. His jaw clenched so tightly, the muscles of his face stood out like iron cables. "We've done everything you asked, and we'll keep doing it. Now leave us alone. Goten—come on. We're going home!"
"There's no need. You can stay and watch the matches. Later, we'll figure something out. Don't blow this out of propor—"
"No!" Trunks cut Asuma off, nearly losing it, his fists trembling, the muscles in his arms bulging so hard they looked carved from stone. "You don't trust us! What if I decided to kill you all right now? Maybe we should hide. After all, we're sooo dangerous!"
"Trunks! Remember, I'm your sensei!" Asuma shot back, losing his calm edge and trying to rein the boy in. "And as your sensei, you owe me respect!"
The Saiyan laughed, cold and ironic, as he ripped the metal headband from his arm. He held it for a moment, then crushed it in his fist with such brutal force that it crumpled into a lump smaller than a coin. He let it fall, the metallic clang echoing as if it were just pocket change.
"A sensei is supposed to trust his student, and a student is supposed to trust his life to his sensei. You don't trust me. You're not my sensei." His tone dropped, calm but sharp as a blade, eyes fierce and aggressive—the unmistakable glare he'd inherited from his father. "Or maybe you are… just the worst one I've ever had."
"Don't worry!" Goten suddenly chirped, winking at the others and whispering loudly out of the corner of his mouth—pointless secrecy at best. "He's just upset he won't get to see Ino anymore. I think he likes her!"
Trunks ignored it this time. He wasn't in the mood. Ino was the biggest reason, yes—but the boys mattered too. And what stung most was that Asuma and the others saw them as threats.
"Goten, how do I put this…" Kakashi sighed, gently placing a hand on his student's shoulder, realizing he hadn't grasped the weight of the conversation. "You're out of my team too… You can't train Sakura. Not anymore."
The boy froze. Kakashi could feel his shoulders tense instantly beneath his hand—strong and solid, every bit as powerful as Trunks. He hadn't realized before, hidden under the baggy clothes.
"B-but I promised her… she's waiting… maybe Naruto wants to learn too, I can—"
"Goten! We're leaving! Don't you get it? The exam was worthless to me, but here it's the same… no, worse than our world. They'll never understand us…"
He stormed toward the door, gripped the handle gently—but even that small tremor of anger warped the metal in his hand, the hinge screeching under the strain.
The look on Goten's face said it all. He'd built something close to friendship with Naruto. And Naruto had sworn to himself—no matter what weird things he learned about Goten, he'd never judge him, never repeat the same mistake he once made when he first saw that tail. He'd never treat him the way everyone had always treated him.
Sakura wasn't exactly sweet, but she didn't hate him. He could swear she was even starting to trust him.
And Sasuke—he just needed a push. He wasn't a bad kid. His chakra wasn't evil. Orochimaru had just bitten him, and Goten felt guilty for not stopping it.
He followed Trunks reluctantly until the Hokage's voice stopped them cold.
A flicker of hope lit in both their eyes, thinking maybe, just maybe, the old man was going to take it back.
He didn't.
"Trunks, one more thing. You said in your world, you fight for two reasons. The second reason, the one besides personal pleasure, is why you train to grow stronger? What's the real purpose of your fight?"
Trunks' glare was like a blade, his blue eyes cutting straight through the Hokage. They were so deep, it was impossible to read the storm raging inside him.
He didn't answer. He just turned on his heel and walked out.
Goten hesitated for a second before leaving. He spoke, though his words didn't completely silence his doubts.
"That won't be necessary. Not here." He smiled as always. It seemed like he had forgotten the harsh decision made by the Hokage—but that wasn't the case. Goten's nature was simply identical to his father's; he looked like the type who would smile in the face of anything. "And if it comes to it, you can count on me. And on Trunks too! I know him well, and I know he'll get over it."
He said nothing else and started running to catch up with his friend. As soon as he stepped out of the office, he found him leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his face twisted with pure irritation.
"Finally shut your mouth without running it too far." Trunks growled, annoyed at his friend's last comment.
"Come on, Trunks, don't be so proud. You know I'm right."
Briefs laughed as always, arrogantly, though frustrated with himself—because he knew his friend was telling the truth.
"It might not be necessary, but it'd be a sad way to die here. None of these people want us around…"
"That doesn't matter." Goten cut him off instantly, smiling as he nudged his friend in the ribs with his elbow. "What, you wanna turn into Mr. Satan? Need everyone in the world to recognize you?"
"You know that's not it." Trunks shoved him lightly, this time finally walking off toward the arena. Maybe he'd stick around to watch the match between Lee and that crazy redhead from the Sand who was just as dangerous. All he really hoped was that neither Ino nor anyone from his squad ended up facing him. "It's just… if I did, I'd want to see my mom again. That's all."
That was how most of the Z-Warriors were. They didn't dwell on their tortured pasts while sacrificing themselves, nor did they sink too deep into unnecessary sentimentality. Maybe the Dragon Balls had something to do with it. But when Goku and Vegeta died, they had no such certainty to lean on.
Take Piccolo, for example. A being once born of pure evil—according to Kami himself—and yet, he gave up his life for the sake of one insignificant child. In that moment, the god became a little less god, and the demon… a little more human.
They arrived at the arena, only to find it empty. Just a handful of participants lingered in the balconies, chatting as if the event hadn't even started yet.
They climbed the stairs, and immediately, a few curious eyes landed on them, wondering about the real reason behind their disqualification.
People like Neji Hyuga knew it couldn't have been about their mission count. Something so trivial would've kept them out of the exam from the very beginning.
Kurenai had already heard rumors, and Gai knew of Trunks' abilities firsthand. He suspected the Hokage had barred them for other reasons… like the crater outside the tower.
Some already knew. The rest could at least sense it.
Others, like Naruto, found out straight from Trunks himself. When he saw the massive hole, the blond idiot argued it had to be some genjutsu cast to scare people away from the tower. So, naturally, he decided to dive headfirst into it. He nearly killed himself like a moron if not for Trunks reaching out and snatching him mid-air by the collar of his orange jacket.
That's when Trunks told them it wasn't a genjutsu at all—he was the one responsible.
Some were left in shock. Others turned as pale as sheets of paper. Curiously, Sakura noticed that Ino didn't seem all that bothered.
"Man, what did they say to you?" Naruto's voice carried almost like a whine, unwilling to accept that his teammate had been thrown out like that. "There's no way the old man really kicked you out! If you want, I'll go with you—we'll march right up to him together!"
"Naruto, trust me, you'll only get yourself into trouble." It was unusual for Shikamaru to meddle in these kinds of things. "But… I'll admit, it's hard to swallow. The least they could've done was tell you in private."
"I don't give a damn if you've had one mission or ten! Nobody kicks ass like you guys, seriously!"
The real kicker came when Choji offered Trunks a half-eaten bag of cheese crackers. They were already open, but the gesture spoke volumes. For an Akimichi to share his snacks—even as consolation—was as sure a sign as any that the world was ending.
"It's not much, but I know you must be hungry. Believe me, I can spot a guy with a big appetite when I see one."
Trunks smiled sincerely, gently pushed the crackers back to the hefty boy, and shook his head.
"Thanks, but I'm fine. You can have them."
Deep down, Choji was grateful, though he never hesitated to give them away. Meanwhile, Goten's mouth watered, hypnotized by the greasy crackers.
"By the way, what happened with the exam? Don't tell me it hasn't even started yet!"
Shikamaru shook his head silently, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was about to answer when Rock Lee stepped in instead.
"We are on an intermission. Three matches have already taken place. The first was Sasuke Uchiha against a man named Yoroi. It was a tough fight—Sasuke was worn down by the man's ability to absorb chakra. But once he broke free, he defeated him using a taijutsu technique he copied from me with his Sharingan…"
"That's right," Tenten chimed in, joining the conversation. "But you said he never actually saw your full technique, which means he managed to adapt it in just seconds into one of his own. No doubt about it, Sasuke Uchiha is a genius."
The thick-browed boy lowered his gaze, his bandaged fists trembling slightly. Deep down, he had to admit—it impressed him too.
"The second one was disgusting." Naruto scrunched his face in revulsion, pointing at the Aburame kid. "That creep Shino and his bugs took out the Sound loudmouth. The bastard clogged his insect tunnels and—BAAM! His arms were shredded to pieces!"
PAAAAMMM!
Sakura was just coming back from the bathroom when she overheard the last bit and smacked Naruto on the head so hard that she nearly knocked the snot out of him, unable to tolerate the blonde's vulgar choice of words. Deep down, though, she was also a bit nervous about the whole Goten situation.
"Anyway, in the third match, that guy Kankuro beat the last member of the team of the guy with glasses—the one who quit after Sasuke's fight… what was his name?"
"Kabuto, I think." Lee added, helping out a taciturn Shikamaru who leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed, already meditating about his possible matchup.
"I still say that's cheating!" Naruto complained, his new bump steaming slightly as if it had its own exhaust pipe. "I mean, using a puppet is like fighting two-on-one. That's just dirty tricks…"
"You're wrong, Naruto." Sakura cut in, startling him enough to make him flinch even though she hadn't intended to hit him again. "A puppet is a ninja tool just as valid as a shuriken."
Not long after, Asuma arrived, and minutes later, Kakashi appeared in a puff of smoke.
"Yo"
"What do you mean, 'yo'?! What happened with Sasuke?!"
"Relax, Sasuke's fine, sleeping like a baby in the infirmary."
"And with the curse mark freshly sealed. He's under special ANBU hunter guard now. We have to prevent Orochimaru from getting close to him—after all, Sasuke is his target…"
"By the way, Kakashi-sensei, how could you allow something like that to happen to Goten?" Sakura asked, which instantly caught Naruto's attention. He crossed his arms, nodding with fiery indignation, clearly backing up his teammate.
"Missions aren't the reason. You've just been toying with them; anyone can see that. They've only ever followed orders, and this is how you reward them? You can't even imagine what we went through in the forest! And Goten helped all of us! He helped me!" Her tone dropped lower, soft as a thread. "He saved my life… twice…"
Kakashi tried to keep his indifference, ignoring Naruto's loud agreement. The boy was clumsy and foul-mouthed, but his feelings were dead-on. It wasn't as easy as brushing it aside.
The same thing happened with Shikamaru and Choji. Asuma couldn't believe lazy Nara actually pushed himself enough to speak up for his teammate—casting his sloth aside to argue that Trunks had been a real help in the exam. Not in capturing the scroll, but in something even greater: giving them his support, his trust, showing them that they weren't as pathetic as they believed. The Saiyan believed in them before they ever did in themselves.
When Ino arrived, she couldn't help overhearing. But her words were different—short, offhand, and meaningless to the other genin, though Asuma and Kakashi understood them very differently.
"Stop overthinking it. You guys really think Trunks and the monkey boy care about this dumb exam? Believe me, they've been through worse. Their effort here? It's nothing…"
And she was right. It wasn't frustration over "working so hard" only to be eliminated—they hadn't. To them, this was more like a camping trip. Back at Mount Paoz, they'd played with creatures far more dangerous. What mattered to them was having to part from their friends.
"What does she know about it? Looks like Trunks told her something…" Asuma thought, more surprised than angry, that Ino could shrug it off so lightly. No doubt, she knew more than the rest.
"I'm sorry, kids, but it wasn't our decision. Respect the will of—"
"The Hokage doesn't even know them." Ino cut in sharply, hands on her hips.
Normally, Asuma would've scolded her for her arrogance, but how could he, when he knew she was right? Perhaps this time, her father had acted too rashly.
They'd abandoned what they had agreed on from the start: treating Goten and Trunks like normal kids. Now, they'd chosen to separate them from their team, a team that had matured more in weeks thanks to their presence than in years without them.
The enormous screen flashing with names immediately grabbed the genins' attention, their nerves spiking as they waited for the next matchup.
"Whoa, Trunks, look at that giant TV! I thought the technology was more backward here!!"
"The only one retarted is you." Trunks replied instantly, naturally, just to redirect attention away from Goten's clumsy remark.
"Doesn't matter." Goten squatted on the railing, tail coiled around the metal like a monkey to keep from falling. "Whoever it is, people here fight kinda weird anyway. They're all a bit strange…"
A bead of sweat slid down everyone's necks, except Naruto's. Arms crossed, eyes shut into straight horizontal lines, he nodded solemnly in full agreement with his former teammate. If they knew Goten and Trunks wouldn't be with them anymore, some of them would've lost their minds then and there.
The image froze. Two names no one expected glowed in bright yellow against the green background.
Trunks sighed in relief—it wasn't Ino against that Gaara with the sickening chakra. If it had been, he would've flat-out refused to let her fight. That guy was a killer—she'd have died right there.
"Sakura, it's your turn." Goten was the only one who seemed oblivious to how obvious it already was, but still he spoke, his tone natural. "Use your best skill: chakra control. Channel it into every part of your body—whether for striking, running, or defending. I know it's not easy to regulate your energy in seconds, but you can do it. You're the best here at that…"
Sakura heard him but barely seemed to, her eyes locked on Ino's name flashing on the screen.
"Take notes, billboard brow." Ino taunted, finally shaking off her own surprise. "His advice may help you, but you still don't have a powerful jutsu to rely on."
Ino had the edge of getting inside Sakura's head. But Trunks didn't see it that way. If anything, he felt the need to bring her down a notch—otherwise, she could lose.
"Ino, don't get cocky. Remember Sakura's strength. One good hit, and you're in trouble." The kunoichi stiffened; she hadn't considered it that way. "Keep some distance. Focus your chakra mostly on defense. Strike only when you see an opening and you're certain you'll land it. Save your technique for the right moment…"
It was true—she had already used her jutsu on him, something she wished she could forget after that nasty experience.
Hayate called them from below in his usual coughing fit, eager to get the fight started. Both girls descended the stairs with firm steps, though their nerves stretched those few seconds into an eternity.
"Out of all possible opponents for Ino, it had to be Sakura… What a disaster."
Trunks silently agreed with Shikamaru. Their rivalry was dangerous, but he still preferred this far more than seeing Gaara as her opponent. He felt relieved.
"COME ON, SAKURA! YOU CAN BEAT HER, DON'T LOSE!!" Naruto's roar thundered across the hall.
His shouts nearly drowned out the metallic shriek as Goten, jittery from nerves, crushed the iron railing in his grip like it was clay.
Some glanced at him in astonishment, but all eyes returned to the sickly proctor whose rasping voice outmatched even Goten's frightening display of strength.
"The fourth match will be Sakura Haruno versus Ino Yamanaka." He had to stop to cough, hacking so violently he nearly spat out a lung. The man really needed a doctor.
"BEGIN!"