Afternoon.
Training Ground No. 9.
When Team 9 arrived, everyone froze.
Another squad was already waiting on the field.
"I thought only we were taking the exam? Why are there other ninja here?" Red Bean frowned in confusion.
"Probably only Team 9 among the genin is participating," Drake speculated calmly.
But the other squad wasn't genin at all — they were chunin.
And what surprised Drake even more was that all three of them were wearing the distinctive uniforms of the Sarutobi clan.
"So this is what they call internal selection?" Kakashi sneered, his disdain for the Sarutobi family impossible to hide.
Ever since learning the truth behind his father's death, Kakashi had grown increasingly distant from the Third Hokage.
"We might just drag the team down…" the three girls whispered nervously.
In terms of real combat, they were clearly no match for these chunin. Only Drake and Kakashi stood a chance.
"Relax," Drake said lazily. "It won't come to that."
Three chunin?
Knock them out and Team 9 advances. Simple.
Team 9 had noticed them.
And naturally, the other squad noticed Team 9 as well.
"We need to watch out for Hatake Kakashi and Wood Release Drake."
"Kakashi's speed is troublesome. But that Drake kid? There's a way to deal with him."
"He only knows Wood Release. He can't even perform the basic Three Techniques."
"Speed. As long as we're fast enough, we can take him down before he uses Wood Release."
The trio began discussing tactics.
In the end, their plan was clear:
Strong vs strong, weak vs weak.
"Ichikawa, you deal with Kakashi. Stall him, then surrender if needed."
"I'll handle Drake. My speed can overwhelm him."
"As for the three girls and that brat, Shiki, you'll finish them easily."
Squad leader Sarutobi Yakumaru laid it all out coldly.
Drake glanced around the field and realized something.
No ANBU supervisors yet.
So he strolled straight toward the Sarutobi trio.
"Hey."
He called out with a friendly smile.
"Hm? What do you want? Trying to spy on our strategy?" Yakumaru frowned.
"No," Drake grinned wider. "I'm here to eliminate you."
His fist suddenly shot forward.
WHOOSH!
A blur of motion, followed by —
CRACK!
The punch landed squarely on Yakumaru's arm.
"AAAGH?!"
He stared down in disbelief at his grotesquely bent arm. Only then did the pain explode in his mind.
"You dared to ambush us?!"
"Yakumaru! Captain!"
"Drake, you bastard!"
Ichikawa and Shiki roared in fury.
They were the Hokage's clan, elite Sarutobi ninja — and this kid dared to attack before the match even began?!
Drake tilted his head.
"What kind of name is Yakumaru anyway? Not punching you would've been an insult to that name."
His fist flew again.
CRACK!
CRACK!
Two more sharp fractures echoed through the air.
"AAAAHHHH!"
"My arm!"
"My arm too!"
The two stumbled back, clutching their shattered limbs in agony.
With both hands in his pockets, Drake turned casually away.
"With this level of skill, why are you even applying for ANBU? Go take some D-rank missions and cool off."
He walked back to Team 9 as if nothing had happened.
The entire team stared at him in a daze.
So… this is a valid combat strategy now?
"Senior Drake… you're incredible…" Yamato gazed at him worshipfully.
"Ahem. Stay humble," Drake waved dismissively.
"But Drake, if they report this, you'll get punished," Rin said worriedly.
"Report it? Do they even have the face to?" Drake scoffed.
Three chunin taken out with three punches.
Complaining about that would just be self-humiliation.
And sure enough—
Outside the field, the Sarutobi squad retreated, still clutching their arms.
"Captain! That Drake went too far! We should report him!" Ichikawa fumed.
"He attacked us before the match and broke our arms!" Shiki echoed.
"…Forget it," Yakumaru muttered darkly.
"What?! Why?!"
"Isn't this already humiliating enough?" Yakumaru exploded.
"He didn't even use Wood Release. Just three punches! Tell the clan and we'll never lift our heads again!"
The two fell silent at once.
He was right.
This wasn't injustice — this was pure, overwhelming difference in class.
Only then did the ANBU arrive, fashionably late to the test.
He glanced around.
"Where is Yakumaru's squad?"
...…..
Confused, he decided to wait a little longer.
Under the tree, Team 9 chilled leisurely while the ANBU baked under the sun.
"You think he's hot wearing that mask?" Red Bean suddenly wondered.
"I think heat isn't his biggest concern," Drake stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Oh? Then what is?"
"Think about it. Sweat rolls down his forehead… down his nose… onto his lips. So the real question is—"
"Is he going to drink his own sweat or not?"
Silence.
Then collective shudders.
"That's disgusting!"
"So cool-looking, yet secretly sipping sweat?!"
"What if he didn't wash his face? Wouldn't it be sour?"
"And what if he didn't wash his hair either? Sweat mixed with dandruff…"
The horror escalated rapidly.
Suddenly, everyone fell quiet.
Slowly, they all turned their heads… toward Kakashi.
At that very moment, beads of sweat were sliding down his forehead.
Far away, outside a desolate cave…
Obito continued training stubbornly, sweat pouring from his body.
Yet his eyes remained firm and bright.
Because he believed — Team 9 was searching for him.
"Drake… I believe in you. You'll definitely find me."
The wind whispered softly through the newly planted saplings.
And fate continued to shift, ever so slightly.
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