The day of the finals dawned bright and clear.
Konoha's stadium was already filling with spectators hours before the matches were scheduled to begin. Civilians claimed the upper sections, their excited chatter filling the air with anticipation. Ninja occupied the lower tiers, their trained eyes ready to analyze every technique, every strategy, every display of combat prowess.
The Kage box held honored guests—the Third Hokage in his ceremonial robes, flanked by advisors and guards. Representatives from allied villages occupied adjacent sections, their presence a reminder that these exams served diplomatic purposes as well as promotional ones.
The atmosphere was electric.
Everyone knew what the first match would be.
Uzumaki Naruto versus Hyuuga Neji.
The demon container against the Hyuuga prodigy. The boy without emotions against the genius consumed by fate. The monster who had made Orochimaru flee against the warrior who had nearly killed his own cousin.
It was the match everyone had come to see.
Naruto arrived three hours before the scheduled start time.
The stadium was nearly empty—only maintenance workers and early security personnel moved through the vast space. They gave him a wide berth, recognizing the blond boy whose reputation had grown to terrifying proportions over the past month.
He walked to the center of the arena and stopped.
His hands formed a familiar seal.
"Shadow Clone Technique."
Five hundred copies of himself materialized in a wave of smoke, filling the arena floor with identical figures. Each one reached into equipment pouches and withdrew objects that glinted in the morning sunlight.
Three-pronged kunai.
His father's design, recreated with meticulous precision over the past two weeks. Each blade was inscribed with the Flying Thunder God seal—the complex formula that allowed instantaneous teleportation to any marked location.
The clones moved with coordinated efficiency, spreading throughout the arena. They pressed kunai into stone walls, embedded them in support pillars, buried them beneath the sand of the fighting floor, concealed them in shadows and corners and every possible location a combatant might occupy.
By the time they finished and dispelled, the arena had been transformed into a web of connected points—hundreds of locations Naruto could reach in the space between heartbeats.
The original Naruto stood alone at the center of it all, a single three-pronged kunai spinning lazily around his finger.
The motion was casual. Almost playful.
But there was nothing playful about what it represented.
The stadium filled as morning progressed.
Spectators poured through the gates, their voices creating a constant background roar. Vendors hawked food and souvenirs. Bookmakers took final bets on match outcomes—the odds on Naruto had shifted dramatically since the preliminary rounds, but some still favored Neji's Gentle Fist expertise.
The other competitors arrived and took their positions in the fighter's box.
Satsuki stood at the railing, her transformed figure drawing stares that she ignored entirely. Her Sharingan was active, tracking Naruto's position in the arena below with devoted intensity.
Shikamaru slouched against a pillar, muttering about troublesome tournaments.
Shino stood in silent stillness, his insects buzzing quietly beneath his coat.
Temari gripped her fan with white-knuckled tension, her attention split between the arena and her brother's unsettling stillness.
Gaara stood apart from everyone, arms crossed, sand shifting restlessly around his feet. His dark-ringed eyes were fixed on Naruto with predatory interest.
And Neji...
Neji stood at the far end of the box, his pale eyes fixed on the figure waiting in the arena below. His Byakugan was active, studying Naruto's chakra network, searching for weaknesses he could exploit.
He found none.
The boy's chakra reserves were staggering—far beyond anything Neji had ever encountered. His tenketsu points were reinforced somehow, their natural vulnerabilities shored up through methods the Byakugan couldn't fully analyze. And scattered throughout the arena, barely visible to even his legendary sight, were seals of incredible complexity.
Neji didn't know what those seals did.
But he suspected he was about to find out.
In the stands, the seven devoted women had claimed a section to themselves.
Anko sat at the center, her transformed figure barely contained by clothing that had been modified multiple times to accommodate her impossible proportions. Her eyes never left Naruto, maternal pride and that other feeling burning equally in her chest.
Sakura and Ino flanked her, their own transformed bodies drawing constant attention that they ignored completely. Hinata sat behind them, her Byakugan active, watching Naruto with the intensity of someone witnessing something sacred.
Tenten had brought weapons—an entire scroll of them, just in case. Temari's fan was close at hand despite her nominal status as a competitor.
They were ready for anything.
But they all knew the truth.
Naruto wouldn't need their protection today.
Today, Neji Hyuuga would learn what happened to people who threatened what was his.
The Hokage rose, his aged voice carrying across the stadium through chakra enhancement.
"Welcome to the final stage of the Chuunin Selection Exams! Today, our competitors will demonstrate the full measure of their abilities. Today, villages from across the Elemental Nations will witness the strength of the next generation. Today, legends will be born!"
The crowd roared its approval.
Hiruzen's expression remained solemn despite the enthusiastic response. He knew what was coming. Had watched Naruto's training reports with growing concern. Had observed the cold fury that still burned behind those empty eyes.
This would not be a match.
It would be an execution.
"The first match: Uzumaki Naruto versus Hyuuga Neji! Competitors, enter the arena!"
Naruto was already there, standing exactly where he had been for the past three hours. The three-pronged kunai continued its lazy rotation around his finger, the motion hypnotic in its consistency.
Neji descended from the fighter's box, his posture rigid with controlled tension. He landed on the arena floor with perfect form, immediately dropping into the traditional Gentle Fist stance.
The proctor—Genma Shiranui, senbon still clenched between his teeth—looked between the two competitors.
"This is a no-holds-barred match. Combat continues until one participant is unable to continue, surrenders, or is killed." His eyes lingered on Naruto. "Lethal force is permitted but not encouraged."
Naruto didn't acknowledge the warning.
"Fighters ready?"
Neji's Byakugan pulsed, veins bulging around his pale eyes. "I am ready to demonstrate that fate cannot be defied. This match was determined from the moment of our births—I, the genius of the Hyuuga clan, and you, the demon container destined to be hated. Our positions are fixed. Our outcomes are certain."
He expected a response. Some emotional reaction to his provocation.
Naruto just stared at him.
Empty. Patient. Waiting.
"Begin!"
Neji moved first.
His speed was impressive—honed through years of intensive training, refined by genuine talent. He crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, palm already positioned for a strike to Naruto's heart.
Eight Trigrams: Vacuum Palm.
The air itself became a weapon, compressed chakra erupting from his palm in a devastating wave of force.
The attack hit empty air.
Naruto was gone.
Yellow flash.
He reappeared behind Neji, already in motion. His fist connected with the Hyuuga's back, sending the prodigy stumbling forward.
Neji spun, eyes wide with shock. "How—"
Yellow flash.
Naruto was beside him now, leg sweeping toward his knees. Neji jumped to avoid it, only to find Naruto above him—
Yellow flash.
—below him—
Yellow flash.
—everywhere at once.
The three-pronged kunai multiplied. Shadow clones, each one armed, each one capable of triggering the Flying Thunder God seals scattered throughout the arena. The air filled with yellow flashes as Naruto and his copies teleported in a dizzying dance of violence.
Neji couldn't track them.
His Byakugan—the all-seeing eye, the legendary doujutsu of the Hyuuga clan—couldn't keep up with instantaneous teleportation. By the time his eyes registered a position, Naruto was already somewhere else, striking from a new angle.
Hits landed. One, two, five, ten.
Neji's Rotation—the ultimate Hyuuga defense—erupted in a dome of spinning chakra.
"Eight Trigrams Palm Rotation!"
The technique should have deflected everything. Should have created an impenetrable barrier of expelled chakra.
Naruto appeared inside it.
His father's seal, placed on Neji's clothing during one of the earlier strikes. A marker that allowed teleportation directly past any external defense.
Neji's eyes widened in horror.
Naruto's fist buried itself in his stomach.
The rotation collapsed. Neji doubled over, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Before he could recover, Naruto's knee connected with his face, sending blood spraying across the arena floor.
Yellow flash.
A kick to his ribs. Cracking sounds.
Yellow flash.
An elbow to his spine. More cracking.
Yellow flash.
Strikes from every direction, too fast to block, too numerous to endure. Neji's legendary defense meant nothing against an opponent who could bypass it entirely.
The crowd had gone silent.
This wasn't a fight.
This was systematic destruction.
"First Gate: Gate of Opening—release."
Green chakra erupted around Naruto's form. His speed, already impossible, increased further.
"Second Gate: Gate of Healing—release."
Power flooded his muscles. Each strike hit harder than before.
"Third Gate: Gate of Life—release."
The air itself seemed to bend around him, reality warping under the pressure of his chakra output.
Neji tried to rise. Tried to mount some defense.
Naruto's hand closed around his throat.
"You spoke of fate," Naruto said, his voice flat despite the devastating power coursing through his body. "You claimed our positions were fixed. Our outcomes certain."
He lifted Neji off the ground with casual ease.
"You were correct. But you misunderstood which of us was fated to fall."
He threw.
Neji crashed into the arena wall hard enough to crack the stone. Before he could slump to the ground, Naruto was there—
Yellow flash.
—driving a Rasengan into his chest.
Not a full-power technique. Not enough to kill.
Just enough to shatter ribs, rupture organs, and demonstrate absolute dominance.
Neji screamed.
It was the first sound he had made since the match began.
Naruto stepped back, allowing Neji to collapse to the ground.
The Hyuuga prodigy lay broken, blood pooling beneath him, his legendary eyes unfocused with pain and shock. His breathing was ragged, wet—punctured lung, most likely.
He would survive.
But he would never forget.
"You nearly killed Hinata," Naruto said, standing over the fallen prodigy. "In the preliminaries. The match was decided, and you tried to kill her anyway."
Neji couldn't respond. Could barely breathe.
"I claimed her as mine. I told you we would fight. I told you I would not stop at your wrist."
Naruto's foot pressed against Neji's shattered chest, drawing a wheeze of agony.
"I keep my promises."
He pressed harder.
"Do you understand now? Fate didn't protect you. Your genius didn't protect you. Your clan, your techniques, your certainty—none of it mattered."
His empty blue eyes stared down at the broken prodigy.
"You are not special. You are not destined for greatness. You are simply someone who made the mistake of threatening what belongs to me."
He removed his foot and turned away.
"Medics. He requires immediate attention."
The arena remained silent as medical ninja rushed onto the field.
Naruto walked toward the fighter's box without looking back. The three-pronged kunai had returned to its lazy rotation around his finger, as if the systematic destruction of a prodigy had been nothing more than a minor interruption.
In the stands, the seven devoted women watched with expressions that ranged from fierce satisfaction to quiet awe.
Anko's eyes burned with something beyond maternal pride. "That's my boy," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Sakura and Satsuki exchanged glances, their shared devotion validated by the display of overwhelming power.
Hinata—recovered enough from her own injuries to attend—had tears streaming down her face. Not from sadness. From something else entirely.
He had done this for her.
Had promised vengeance and delivered it completely.
Had claimed her as his and defended that claim with absolute violence.
She had never felt more loved.
In the Kage box, Hiruzen Sarutobi sat in stunned silence.
He had known Naruto was powerful. Had read the reports, witnessed the training, heard the accounts of his confrontation with Orochimaru.
But seeing it—seeing the Yellow Flash's technique deployed with such devastating precision, seeing the Gates opened without apparent strain, seeing a prodigy of the Hyuuga clan dismantled in seconds—
This was beyond anything he had imagined.
This was beyond anything anyone had imagined.
"Hokage-sama," one of his advisors whispered. "That technique. The teleportation. That was—"
"The Flying Thunder God. Yes. I recognized it."
"But only the Fourth could—"
"Apparently not." Hiruzen's voice was heavy. "Apparently his son has inherited more than just his eyes."
The implications hung unspoken in the air.
Konoha had a new Yellow Flash.
One who felt nothing.
One who showed no mercy.
One who had just demonstrated, before thousands of witnesses, that he could destroy anyone who challenged him without breaking a sweat.
The other villages' representatives had gone pale.
They understood what they had just witnessed.
They understood what it meant.
And they were afraid.
Naruto reached the fighter's box and took his position along the railing.
The other competitors gave him even more space than before, their eyes carrying new depths of wariness. Even Gaara's eternal hunger seemed tempered by something that might have been respect.
"Brutal," Shikamaru muttered. "Troublesome and brutal."
Naruto didn't respond.
Satsuki moved to stand beside him, her transformed figure pressing against his arm. "You were magnificent."
"I was efficient."
"You were both." She smiled up at him with devoted intensity. "Hinata will be so happy."
"Her emotional state was not the primary objective."
"Wasn't it?"
Naruto considered the question.
He had promised vengeance. Had delivered it. Had made Neji understand the consequences of threatening someone he had claimed.
But beneath the cold calculation, beneath the analytical assessment of combat efficiency—
There had been something else.
Something that burned.
Something that wanted Neji to suffer.
"Perhaps," he admitted.
Satsuki's smile widened.
It was progress.
Small, uncertain, barely perceptible.
But progress nonetheless.
The medical team carried Neji away on a stretcher, his broken body a testament to the cost of challenging Uzumaki Naruto.
The crowd remained silent, still processing what they had witnessed.
The proctor stepped forward, his voice carrying across the arena.
"Winner: Uzumaki Naruto!"
No cheers answered.
Just silence.
And in that silence, a new legend was born.
The Yellow Flash reborn.
The demon container unleashed.
The empty vessel filled with terrible power.
Konoha had created a monster through years of abuse and neglect.
And now the world had seen what that monster could do.