Gaara of the Sand

As Kankuro retreated from the arena clutching his puppet, Takuma noticed him glance back.

Gaara stood with his arms crossed, his signature giant gourd strapped to his back, staring at the arena without blinking.

His dark circles were so thick they looked painted on with ink, and his pupils lacked any focus.

Takuma looked away and vaulted up into the Konoha waiting area.

The moment his feet touched the ground, Tenten squeezed over from the spectator stands.

"Let me see your arm."

Before Takuma could react, she had already grabbed his arm and pulled back his sleeve.

Beneath the bandages, the cyan patterns of the Cursed Seal were slowly fading toward his shoulder, leaving an unnaturally scorching heat on the surface of his skin.

"You used it again."

Tenten's voice was low, but she couldn't hide the worry in her tone. "You almost let the Cursed Seal consume half your body last time, have you forgotten?"

"I couldn't have won without it."

Takuma pulled his hand back and adjusted his sleeve himself. "Kankuro's puppet was too fast. If I hadn't used the Cursed Seal to boost my speed, I would have been turned into a sieve by now."

"Then let yourself be turned into a sieve. You heal anyway."

"Is that even something a person would say?"

Tenten huffed.

She pulled a new roll of bandages from her ninja tool pouch and shoved them into Takuma's hand.

"Change them. The old ones are scorched by the Cursed Seal; they look disgusting."

Takuma looked down at the bandages wrapped around his arm—there were indeed several charred marks burned by the Cursed Seal's energy, the edges tinged with an unnatural dark purple.

He deftly unwound the old bandages and wrapped the new ones on, covering the traces left by the Cursed Seal layer by layer.

The referee, Genma Shiranui, walked to the center of the ring.

"Next, Gaara of Sunagakure versus Uchiha Sasuke of Konoha!"

Gaara walked slowly into the arena with his gourd on his back.

Sasuke did not appear.

Genma waited a moment, then announced again, "Uchiha Sasuke, please report to the arena immediately!"

Still, there was no response.

Gaara stood silently in place, motionless.

Genma frowned. He raised his hand to signal the timekeeper to start the clock.

Orochimaru, disguised as the Fourth Kazekage, suddenly spoke up, "Since he is a contestant from Konoha, a brief delay is of no consequence. Give him ten minutes."

The Third Hokage's gaze narrowed slightly.

He turned to look at the "Kazekage," pondered for a moment, and nodded slowly.

"Then we shall wait another ten minutes."

Genma took the order and loudly announced the extension.

The audience quieted down again. But the atmosphere had changed; the heat of anticipation had been diluted by anxiety, replaced by a subtle sense of tension.

Time ticked away.

Figures flickered in the arena, and Kakashi appeared in the center of the ring with Sasuke via a Body Flicker.

Leaves were still swirling in the air as Kakashi rubbed his forehead and gave Genma an awkward smile.

"Sorry, sorry, we were held up on the way."

Genma looked at him with an expressionless face.

"Uchiha Sasuke, entry complete."

"The match—begins!"

Sasuke didn't bother with any probing.

He threw three kunai, followed by six shuriken.

The shuriken traced arcs in the air, bypassing the frontal defense of the Shield of Sand to strike from Gaara's blind spot.

Sand rose automatically, condensing into a wall in front of Gaara.

The kunai and shuriken embedded themselves in the sand and were swallowed by the flowing grains; even the sound of the impact was muffled by the rustling of grinding sand.

Sasuke flashed out from behind the sand wall and swung his right hand.

A Sand Clone exploded, and a sky full of yellow sand, mixed with shuriken fragments, surged back.

Sasuke's Sharingan spun at high speed.

His body wove through the rain of sand.

His brain calculated the optimal evasion route in an instant.

He leaped into the air, changing direction mid-flight.

His right fist slammed into Gaara's chest.

The Sand Armor cracked at the point of impact, the fissures spreading out like a spiderweb.

Gaara's body flew backward, his back slamming into the stone wall at the edge of the arena, sending debris flying.

Bloodshot veins appeared in the depths of Gaara's eyes.

More sand poured from his gourd, condensing into spikes in the air, each one aimed at Sasuke's position.

Gaara's right hand clenched violently.

The sand spikes fired in a volley.

Sasuke wove between the spikes.

The Sharingan's precognition allowed him to avoid the attack trajectory in advance, but there were too many spikes.

One spike grazed his shoulder, leaving a bloody gash.

He landed and formed hand seals.

Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu.

Small fireballs erupted from his mouth in succession, tracing arcs in the air to obscure Gaara's vision.

Sasuke seized the opportunity.

Lightning Style chakra condensed in his palm, the blue-purple electricity screeching like a thousand birds.

Arcs of lightning struck the ground beneath his feet, leaving charred marks.

Sasuke lowered his body, his Sharingan locked onto Gaara's position.

The lightning cut through the sand wall blocking his path.

The Shield of Sand was as fragile as paper before the Chidori; the arcs of electricity pierced the chakra connections between the sand grains, and the wall began to disintegrate before it even touched the lightning.

The Chidori pierced the defense of the Sand Armor, and the Lightning Style chakra struck home.

Gaara's body was sent flying by the blow, slamming heavily into the stone wall at the edge of the arena as gravel rained down.

Gaara hung his head, his body curled up in the pile of rubble, motionless. A tear appeared in the sand gourd on his back, and sand trickled out from the crack like blood.

Sasuke knelt on one knee, blood seeping from the split webbing of his right hand; the backlash of the Chidori made his entire arm tremble.

A hand made of sand reached out from the pile of rubble.

Gaara stood up from the debris.

His right arm was completely encased by the arm of Shukaku of the Sand, the muscle contours writhing frantically beneath the sand, a twisted bone spur protruding from the elbow.

Beneath the torn sleeve at his shoulder, large purple-blue patterns emerged on his skin.

His right eye had turned into a golden beastly pupil, with a vertical slit in the center.

"Blood..."

"Give me blood..."

The sand arm expanded violently.

The sand in the center of the arena cracked, and more sand surged from the fissures.

Gaara hunched his back, his right arm dragging on the ground, the giant sand limb carving a deep trench into the earth.

"Get out..."

Gaara gritted his teeth, his left hand clutching his own mutating right arm.

"This is my body..."

Shukaku's wild laughter drowned out his murmurs.

In the spectator stands, Naruto gripped the railing.

"Sasuke—!"

The Third Hokage's pipe hung suspended in mid-air.

He looked down at the battle at his feet, then glanced at the "Kazekage" beside him.

A faint, imperceptible smile curled the corners of Orochimaru's mouth.

Just then.

White feathers drifted from the sky.

Takuma felt his consciousness blurring.

Temple of Nirvana Jutsu.

Takuma struggled to lift his head, looking through the gap in the arena archway toward the direction of Konoha Village.

Thick smoke was rising; three or four columns of smoke soared into the sky from different locations simultaneously.

The "Fourth Kazekage" held the Third Hokage hostage and landed on the roof, four purple pillars of light shooting into the sky at once.

The pillars converged in mid-air, unfolding into a massive rectangular barrier that completely enveloped the roof.

Four Violet Flames Formation.

The purple light illuminated half the sky. When the edge of the barrier touched a bird flying past, the bird instantly burned into a fireball, not even leaving feathers behind.

The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, stood in the center of the barrier.

The face of the "Fourth Kazekage" began to melt—the white skin peeled away like wax, revealing the pale, deathly visage beneath.

Purple eyeshadow extended from the corners of his eyes to his ears.

A forked tongue flicked out from the corner of his mouth, licking his cracked lips.

He released the Third and stepped back, spreading his arms as if welcoming an old friend.

"Sensei, long time no see."