The midsummer cicadas cried as though their shrill chorus would never end, tearing at the scorching air with the last strength of their lives. The Third Training Ground, reserved for the Konoha Ninja Academy, baked beneath a sun so merciless that even the scenery seemed to waver, as though seen through a flowing, invisible veil.
The simple spectator stands surrounding the grounds were already packed. Low conversations, guesses, and excited discussions merged into a dull, persistent background hum, weaving through the maddening cries of the cicadas and making the heat feel even more oppressive.
The end-of-term combat tests should have been a routine repeated year after year, but this year, a tension unlike anything in previous years hovered in the air, charged with feverish anticipation. Almost everyone had heard through one source or another that this year's third-year students, especially Class A, included several extraordinary young talents worthy of being called "little monsters."
The clearest proof was the knockout tournament, whose contestants were selected from the outstanding performers in each year's combat tests. Nearly half were third-years, whereas in previous years, almost all had been fifth- and sixth-years.
In the shade beside the field, Chizuru Shiranui, a Jonin serving as one of the referees, deftly shifted her trademark senbon to the other corner of her mouth. Her hawklike gaze slowly swept over the figures in the preparation area who stood out even among the other children. She murmured around the needle to Yoshikazu Nara, the elite Chunin refereeing beside her, "Hey, Yoshikazu, do you feel it? This year's brats have a different presence. The concentration of 'little monsters' is almost ridiculous. Especially that blond kid in the corner over there..."
Yoshikazu Nara remained standing with his arms folded. His mask concealed most of his face, leaving no hint of his expression visible, but his steady, focused gaze had already fixed on the blond boy at the edge of the field like a venomous snake locking onto its prey. The boy was so quiet that he almost blended into his surroundings.
Minato Namikaze stood alone in the shade of a relatively empty corner, his head slightly lowered, as though the waves of excitement, nerves, and restless agitation spreading among his classmates before the approaching test could not touch him at all.
His azure eyes were as clear and calm as the deepest, stillest mountain lake in autumn, untouched by any ripple from the outside world. He simply gazed intently, almost as though studying it, at the earth in the middle of the field, packed firm by countless footsteps and gleaming white beneath the blazing sun.
Occasionally, he noticed someone secretly watching him from the stands and lifted his head to offer a gentle, polite smile that nonetheless carried a natural sense of distance. This seemingly ordinary response often immediately earned him a fierce, possessive glare from a red-haired girl nearby, whose eyes looked ready to spit actual flames, as though declaring some unspoken claim.
The air carried the scent of dry dust baked by sunlight, the sweat rising from the boys and girls, and that restless energy and hormonal charge unique to adolescence, with nowhere to go.
The edges of the stands were already jammed with their fellow students, all in different moods. Their complicated gazes converged on the field, filled with envy, jealousy, curiosity, or simply the desire to enjoy the spectacle.
And today's opening match was a headline clash sure to ignite the entire crowd: the much-watched civilian prodigy, Minato Namikaze, against Tsume Inuzuka, representative of the Inuzuka Clan, famed for its wild taijutsu and coordinated attacks with ninja dogs.
Minato calmly stepped into the sun-drenched center of the field first. His simple, clean, blue short-sleeved training clothes accentuated a figure as straight as a pine, yet still possessed of a boy's slenderness.
His dazzling blond hair seemed to hold the very essence of sunlight. Beneath the scorching rays, it almost became a second, smaller light source on the field, making some of those looking directly at him narrow their eyes.
Unlike many ninja about to face an opponent, he did not stand taut as a bowstring. His posture was almost casually relaxed and natural. Yet his raised eyes, a pristine blue, held nothing but absolute concentration, stripped of every stray thought and emotion, as pure as a frozen plain.
Tsume Inuzuka strode in just as the referee finished announcing the contestants' entrance, sweeping onto the field with the force of a whirlwind. Her fitted, dark-gray sleeveless training top clearly outlined the balanced, explosive strength of her arms, shoulders, and back, honed through relentless training.
Her short black hair stuck out in every direction, as unruly as her temperament. Her gaze was direct and sharp, making no attempt to conceal her seething eagerness for battle or the almost feral aggression peculiar to the Inuzuka Clan.
Her partner, the young ninja dog named Kuromaru, had already grown to a respectable size. Muscles bulging, he stayed close at her feet, baring cold, gleaming white fangs as a low, threatening growl rumbled continuously in his throat. His keen, blade-sharp eyes were likewise locked on the unnervingly calm blond boy opposite them, as though a single command from his master would send him lunging forward to tear the boy apart.
"Hmph, Minato Namikaze." Tsume stopped and firmly patted Kuromaru's sturdy foreleg. Her voice rang clear and loud, brimming with undisguised provocation and fighting spirit. "No need for a warm-up match! This won't be like our last classroom spar. You won't get through so easily with those little tricks of yours! Kuromaru and I have been training hard for ages!"
Minato merely tilted his head slightly at her words, calmly meeting her battle-hungry eyes. The faintest, clean smile curved his lips, gentle as an unspoiled morning breeze in the woods, without a trace of anger or sharpness.
"I'm looking forward to it too. Let's have a good match, Tsume, and you too, Kuromaru." His tone was calm and natural. He even gave a sincere nod to Kuromaru, who was still baring his teeth and growling dangerously beside her, as though the dog were not a beast but a true opponent worthy of equal treatment and respect.
The veteran Chunin instructor serving as chief referee slowly surveyed the two contestants, their presences utterly different, with a gaze as stern as stone. Once he confirmed that both were ready, his raised arm slashed down like a guillotine blade, and his voice rang out decisively. "Match-begin!"
"Beast-Man Clone!"
The last note of the referee's command still seemed to tremble in the air when Tsume shot forward like an arrow loosed from a fully drawn bow! As she and Kuromaru, perfectly in tune beside her, sprinted at full speed, their forms blurred and warped in unison. A flash of chakra flared and vanished like ripples across water!
In an instant, two "Tsume Inuzukas" appeared on the field, almost identical in appearance, presence, and even chakra fluctuations!
These were no visual afterimages produced by high-speed movement, but genuine, solid clones capable of attacking!
One on the left and one on the right, together with the original, whose gaze had grown even fiercer, and Kuromaru, crouched on all fours and ready to spring, they instantly formed a flawless, oppressive pincer formation. With a ferocity that seemed ready to crush everything in its path, they swept toward the lone blue figure at the center of the field to surround and tear him apart!
They moved so fast that the footsteps of the three figures and one dog kicked up clouds of dust from the dry earth. Their assault was so fierce that it cut off almost every conventional angle and opening for evasion.
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