Kaito finally got Yūhi Ryūun's support. He gave her a subtle salute, returned her glare with one of his own, and started scribbling down an insincere sixty-something to fool the higher-ups.
He still had no idea that in Mikoto's eyes he'd become "the genius who changed my fate."
Eliminations kept coming. Someone used a sneaky Earth Release to shove a crumpled ball of paper—acquired from who-knows-where—onto the desk of a sleeping test-taker who had already finished, then reported it as proof. The proctors saw everything.
Not paying attention to your surroundings? That's on the examinee.
Another team was disqualified without drama.
The test lasted only an hour. Before long the final minutes ticked away. Aside from the planted impostor answer-holders, only eleven teams remained.
Just as Morino Ibiki was about to close the exam, a pale hand shot up from the third row.
"I withdraw."
Ibiki fixed the black-haired girl across from him with a serious look. "You're not joking. Candidate 26—are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
Uchiha Kayo managed a bitter smile. "I lost. Sorry, En and Fūya. I dragged you down."
Her two teammates bowed their heads, faces unreadable.
Ibiki drew a breath, ready to announce the three's elimination—when twelve-year-old Uchiha En slammed his palm on the desk and laughed.
"It's only chūnin! Kayo, you're too formal—come on, we're a team!"
Fūya closed his brush cap with a wry grin. "I won't be mad. Even if I don't pass, I'll be the strongest genin who never quits."
Kayo stood up, hands clasped over her face, and sobbed two silent tears.
Mikoto leaned toward her and said softly—only Kayo could hear—"You're important to them too. Don't belittle yourself, Kayo."
It was the first time Mikoto had ever called her "Kayo-nee."
Something soft and tender filled Kayo's chest; she no longer felt alone.
The bell rang. Time was up.
Ibiki stepped to the podium once more.
"Anyone still wish to withdraw? You can change your decision before I officially announce results."
Kayo hesitated—her earlier outburst had been impulsive. But looking at En and Fūya's smiling, steady faces, she couldn't abandon them.
"Confirmed," she said. "Let's go, En."
"Kayo-nee, what are you waiting for? If not this year, then next year—big deal." En and Fūya's choices made Kayo nod firmly.
"I was wrong," she admitted.
"I'll treat you to dinner when this is over. Maybe to celebrate my Sharingan—if it upgrades."
"Huh?" the two chorused, bewildered.
At the classroom door, they paused; Kaito watched them—thinking they looked like a pair of clowns.
In the monitoring room, Hiruzen praised Uchiha Keijin. "Not bad, Keijin. Those three are good kids—cultivate them well."
Keijin's chest swelled. "Of course. A fourteen-year-old double-tomoe genius in my squad—of course I will."
Hiruzen frowned slightly at the intensity of Keijin's pride and hoped the elders wouldn't meddle. Orochimaru brightened at the sight of Mikoto's clean answer sheet—an undeniable prodigy. He even considered pairing her with some protege to study bloodline potential.
Sarutobi Shinnosuke shot a jealous glance at Mikoto and Kayo. As for Kaito, he didn't pay it much mind—he trusted his plan. He'd let his students make the rest of the decisions during the second stage.
The first stage ended. The second proctor arrived: this time it wasn't Mitarashi, but Akimoto, a civilian special jōnin.
The second stage remained survival in the field—not the Death Forest, but a similar training-ground forest reserved for Konoha: a simulated battlefield. Konoha had special access. Kaito had been there twice before.
In short: a war-style environment of forests, streams, and cliffs where teams competed to seize the tower in the center. The objective: over twenty-four hours, fight through enemy teams and grab a scroll opposite the one you carry—harder than the Death Forest and broader in scope. Realistic combat potential, possibility of encountering jonin acting as enemy units—the stakes were high.
"Teacher—we passed the first stage!" the kids chirped.
"Heh, teacher, are you two on a date?" someone teased.
"W-w-we were just—"
"Shut up!" Kaito and Unma snapped in unison.
Ryūun pouted, turned, and said, "We need to discuss tomorrow's test strategy with sensei."
"It's not a date, mind you!" Unma plastered his face with a fool's grin—obviously not discussing strategy in any serious way.
Mikoto, cool and composed, added, "We should dine together; discussing tactics over dinner is fine."
Kaito and Unma exchanged looks. Did we even discuss anything last time? They hadn't—barely a sentence had been spent on tactics, but the show must go on.
Next morning at 11:30 a.m., nine teams that passed the first stage gathered at the simulated forest's edge.
"Wait—where's that tenth team? I thought ten teams got through yesterday," Might Duy fretted. "Is there some additional test we didn't know about?"
Kaito scanned the groups, exchanged a glance with Yamanaka Tai—Tai's look said plainly: they failed.
"What? Teams still failed?" Mikoto was stunned.
"Not all teams have intel-gathering or message capabilities," Kaito said to his three. He nodded at the friendly Nara Ha and Akimichi Yumi; they tipped their hats in return. "You three are a strong team."
Unma, senbon between his teeth, sensed something else. "Hey—don't tell me you're planning to mess with things again, Kaito. Intentionally letting your team pass?"
Ryūun glared at Mikoto and Nonō—jealousy flare-up in her eyes.
Kaito's voice remained calm: "Unma, don't be ridiculous. Nobody can stop me from becoming a chūnin."
"Not even my precious students."
"Prepare yourselves. Teacher won't hold back—ever."
He turned to his pupils, serious. "This time, you must be prepared to go down with me. Only by throwing everything at it—no holding back—might we stand a chance. If we fall, fall with style."
The three went from small excitement to cold sweat in seconds; going toe-to-toe with their teacher—who could kill a jonin in a heartbeat—was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
They understood: Kaito was not kidding.
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