Forfeiture

"Candidates One and Two, enter!"

Fuyuki and Amayuri stepped into the exam arena and took their places on either side of Kuga Enji.

"Before the exam begins, I'll ask one last time: does anyone have any questions?" Kuga Enji asked solemnly.

As soon as he finished speaking, Fuyuki raised his hand.

"I do!"

Kuga Enji nodded. "Go ahead."

Fuyuki's expression was complicated. His gaze swept over the spectators around them before finally settling on Yagura.

"I forfeit."

"Forfeit?" Kuga Enji's eyes narrowed. "Why are you forfeiting now?"

Fuyuki lowered his voice. "I thought it over carefully. I have no confidence at all in a fight against Amayuri, so..."

Kuga Enji fell silent for a moment, then announced calmly, "Fuyuki's forfeiture is accepted. Amayuri wins."

By the railing on the second floor, Kanna muttered to himself, "Impressive..."

Someone had actually forfeited? Was Jubei really that good at talking people into things? Or had something else happened that he didn't know about?

And he couldn't make sense of the spectators' reactions, either.

Normally, someone forfeiting before the exam would cause a stir. But now, not a sound came from the crowd. It was as if everyone had expected it and wasn't surprised at all.

Kanna looked around. Some people, including his father, wore grim expressions and furrowed brows. Others looked indifferent, as if they couldn't care less.

Kanna couldn't help thinking of the Third Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi and the elder Shimura Danzō of Konoha. During the Nine-Tails' rampage, the Konoha Crush, and Pain's attack on the village, Danzō's Root had acted just like this: they hadn't betrayed their own people, but they hadn't stepped in to help, either. They had simply kept their subordinates on a tight leash, expressing their resistance through inaction and their discontent through cold indifference.

Kanna glanced at the Third Hokage without thinking. Hiruzen still wore a courteous smile. Kanna had no idea what he was really thinking, but he certainly couldn't be in a good mood.

Below, Fuyuki lowered his head and left the arena without watching the rest of the exam. Amayuri gazed after him for a moment, then returned to the competitors' seats.

"Next, Candidate Three, Kanna, will face Candidate Four, Momochi Zabuza." Kuga Enji continued to guide the proceedings. Looking up at Kanna and Zabuza on the second floor, he said, "Please enter."

"I forfeit!" Zabuza didn't even move. He simply declared his withdrawal.

Kanna sucked in a sharp breath. Even Zabuza had been talked into it?

Now Kanna was getting embarrassed. Everyone around him remained composed and silent. It was as if he had found himself in the middle of a silent war, completely out of place.

Kanna had expected to have a proper fight with Zabuza, and hoped to pay him back for the sword strike from years ago. But things had taken a turn he'd never seen coming. Fuyuki had forfeited, and now Zabuza had, too. Everyone was acting as if the exam were some kind of disaster, and they were all steering clear of it.

I just wanted to take the exam properly, damn it! Kanna thought, frustrated.

Below, Kuga Enji fell silent once more. After a long pause, he announced in a ringing voice, "Zabuza forfeits. Kanna wins."

At last, someone in the audience spoke up.

Jubei stood and said, "Since both fights ended with one candidate forfeiting, Kanna and Amayuri shouldn't need the full three days of rest, either. We can go straight to the final match, can't we?"

As soon as Jubei finished, Long objected. "The scheduled three days aren't just for the candidates to rest. They also give them time to prepare specific strategies and ninjutsu. We should stick to the original plan and hold the exam again in three days."

Jubei smiled faintly and looked at Kanna and Amayuri.

"So that's how it is. Still, why not let the two candidates decide?"

"No need to make it so complicated. I'll decide," Kuga Enji interjected calmly. "As the chief examiner, deciding how this exam proceeds is my responsibility. The preliminary round may have changed a little, but that doesn't affect anything. The finals will still begin in three days."

The Third Hokage clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention and announced, "Since that's the chief examiner's decision, we'll see you all in three days."

That evening, in Tokiomi's study.

"I don't understand, Father. What are those people fighting over? Money? Power? If they're ninjas, why should they care about that stuff?"

In Kanna's view, a ninja ought to devote himself to training. Once he'd trained enough to be invincible, what couldn't he do? What couldn't he obtain?

Of course, many people would never reach the pinnacle because of their talent, circumstances, or other reasons. But that didn't justify devoting all their energy to scheming against one another and eliminating their rivals.

Tokiomi didn't answer. He silently practiced his calligraphy.

"Tenjō Tenge Yui Ga Dokuson, Amenominaka-nushi-no-kami, kokoro no arika."

The phrase meant, "Above and below, I alone am honored; Amenominaka, the place where the heart resides." The words "Above and below, I alone am honored" were Kanna's answer when he and Tokiomi discussed the ninja way. They meant never forgetting your original purpose and always following your own path. The latter words, "Amenominaka, the place where the heart resides," invoked the title of a deity. The Sharingan's ultimate techniques were often named after gods, such as Amaterasu, Tsukuyomi, Izanagi, and Kagutsuchi. But Amenominaka was the name of a deity of an even higher order. By writing this phrase, Tokiomi was probably using "Amenominaka" as a metaphor for the God of the Center—something one could understand as one's ideals or ninja way. Those things, he meant, resided within the heart.

After finishing the phrase, Tokiomi changed his brushstrokes and began writing the character for "heart." His strokes carried a sense of strength and grandeur, and the final dot seemed to pierce right through the paper. It felt as though he wasn't writing about a human heart, but about the heart itself—the very essence of one's will.

"How's your handwriting?" Tokiomi suddenly set down his brush and asked. "Show me."

Kanna more or less understood that Tokiomi wanted to read his heart and will through his handwriting. Honestly, he thought the idea that handwriting reflected a person was completely wrong. History was full of people with beautiful handwriting who were awful human beings.

Still, it was his father's request, so Kanna dutifully picked up the brush and swept it across the paper in a single fluid stroke.

Kanna wrote the character for "heart," too, but his writing was different from Tokiomi's. Tokiomi's strokes were vigorous and bold, with a steadiness that came from middle age. Kanna's, on the other hand, were lively and unrestrained, their sharp edges on full display—like a sudden storm, a rushing torrent.

Tokiomi looked at Kanna's character and nodded without comment. Instead, he returned to what they had been discussing earlier.

"Different styles of writing look disorderly when mixed together in the same piece. Likewise, ninjas who hold different ideals will approach things in different ways."

Kanna seemed to understand. "So?"

"Trying to force yourself or someone else to change their mind..." Tokiomi said as he picked up his brush and began painting over Kanna's character for "heart." "It's like trying to force a change in someone's handwriting. No matter how much ink you use to smooth out the rough edges, you'll never make it work."

Kanna looked down. The original character for "heart" had become unrecognizable. Stroke by stroke, the layers of ink built up until it became a black blot.

"The harder you try to correct it, the more ink you have to use, until all that's left is a useless mess!"

Kanna frowned. "Is there really no way for them to coexist? What if everyone gave a little?"

"Coexist? Of course they can!" Tokiomi laughed. He swept his brush down, pressing its side hard against the black blot that had once been the character for "heart." One dot, one vertical stroke, one horizontal stroke, one hook—the broad, thick strokes covered the original blot.

He added two dots at the end, and a gigantic character for "heart," filling the entire sheet, appeared before Kanna's eyes.

"Make it bigger than the other one! Big enough to contain it!" Tokiomi tossed down his brush and pointed sternly at the paper. "Make the original character a part of you! That's the only way they can truly coexist!"

Kanna froze. That kind of lesson taught through example was hard to forget...

After everything Tokiomi had said, his point came down to one thing: people with different paths couldn't work together. Either you made others submit, or they made you submit. The idea of meeting halfway and cooperating was a sham.

If Madara Uchiha and Hashirama could truly have worked together, the Shinobi World would have been united long ago.

If the Five Great Nations worked together, maybe by now their territory would have extended into another dimension.

If Hashirama hadn't set aside the dignity of the God of Shinobi and bowed earnestly before everyone at the Five Kage Summit, the situation in the Shinobi World wouldn't have stabilized so quickly.

Even the Sage of Six Paths Brothers and their mother, Kaguya Otsutsuki, had fallen out over their differing ideals, to the point of fighting to the death. What chance did anyone else have? Those three were all on the level of the ancestors of the ninja world, with nearly every kind of wealth and power at their disposal. They were practically omnipotent, yet still ended up at odds.

As things stood, the Mizukage and the clans were no longer fighting over mere leadership. They were fighting over the future direction of Kirigakure. After all, the Third Hokage had been the village's highest leader for so many years that he wasn't going to cling to the Mizukage's position. It wasn't as though he were attached to power.

Should the village centralize power or give it up? Should the right to trade and engage with other nations be made public, or kept under the village's control? How should Kirigakure train its next generation of ninjas?

Any compromise would only produce an awkward, half-baked arrangement. The village could move forward only by making one side submit and firmly adhering to a single system.

(PS: About the topic people are arguing over in the reviews section. First question: Wouldn't using the Flying Thunder God Technique to zip around Kirigakure get you spotted? My answer: Obito used Kamui to come and go from Konoha, spying on Minato, Kakashi, and Rin's Memorial Stone again and again, and nothing happened. He wasn't Itachi, who even knew the passwords for the various barriers. Kanna placed his markers in public areas. If they'd been forbidden zones, he wouldn't have been able to get in at all, so there wouldn't be a problem. Even if he was spotted and something happened, so what? He could just leave Kirigakure, lie low for a few years, then come back for revenge. Second question: The conflict isn't obvious enough. The Third Hokage and the clans could easily cooperate. That's only true in theory, just like how Z Country and Country A could theoretically cooperate. Even Danzo and Sarutobi, who were close friends, couldn't work together, let alone everyone else. People today will fight over their pride; ninjas fight over their ninja way. How can people with different ways work together? Third question: Isn't it too early to give the protagonist so many cheats? Aren't those so-called cheats just about ninjutsu? Naruto's Nine-Tails is a cheat, Sasuke's Sharingan is a cheat, and Nagato's Rinnegan is a cheat. Jinchuriki are all cheats, and kekkei genkai are cheats, too. That's not a big deal. Chakra and combat skills still depend on the person. Kakashi copied most of the ninjutsu in the Shinobi World, and look how far that got him. That's all. If you have any more opinions, keep posting them in the reviews section. I read them every day.)