"From today onward, you are my disciple," Uzumaki Mito said with a warm smile.
"Understood," Maki replied with a nod.
Tsunade scowled, her protests having fallen on deaf ears. Now that it was final, all she could do was glare at Maki with frustration.
This girl… always ruining her mood!
"Report to the Senju compound tomorrow morning," Mito added before vanishing in a flicker.
The exam would continue—but the air had changed.
Tsunade huffed and stomped off in frustration, while Maki silently disappeared back into the crowd. The battle was over, yet the students couldn't stop staring. The sheer level of power the two girls displayed had left them stunned.
There was no room for envy. Only fear.
But the real buzz was among the adults.
Uzumaki Mito had taken on a disciple. That meant one thing: she was forming a powerful team to train Tsunade.
The implications were immense.
The red-eyed elder narrowed his gaze, and the white-eyed elder quietly made up his mind. Decisions were already forming.
"There's nothing more to see now," one ninja muttered.
"I heard there's another genius in the next class," someone said. "A boy named Orochimaru."
"Genius? He's just a commoner."
"Exactly. No clan blood."
"Then he's not worth watching."
Even that ninja, who came from civilian roots himself, didn't hold out much hope. He had already learned the harsh truth in his short career: clan bloodlines were walls that talent alone often couldn't climb.
But in a quiet corner of the field, a boy with delicate features and golden, narrow eyes stood silently. He had watched every second of the fight—his gaze fixed on Tsunade and Maki with a quiet, burning hunger.
Such incredible power.
Though… the bugs. That was the part that made him uncomfortable.
Orochimaru licked the corner of his lips subconsciously. His skin still tingled at the memory. If it were him caught in that swarm, without Tsunade's chakra-enhanced resilience... he didn't want to imagine the outcome.
Two small white snakes slithered lazily around his shoulders, hissing in unison.
Yes, he had his own summons. But Manda, the great serpent, wasn't exactly obedient.
The Third Hokage saw Orochimaru through the crystal ball and couldn't help but reflect. The boy was a prodigy—one of the rare few in decades with the potential to inherit the forbidden Sage Arts from one of the three great holy lands.
And yet…
Worms versus snakes. Who was stronger?
He remembered a scene from his youth: a massive serpent battling a colony of ants. Despite the size difference, the snake was reduced to a skeleton.
It had left an impression.
Small things could be more terrifying than they appeared.
When it came to raw genius and ferocity… Maki might even surpass Orochimaru.
"Mito-sama… you've finally made your move," the Third thought aloud, his voice low and contemplative.
Some things remained unclear to him—but that didn't matter anymore. What mattered was that Konoha remained strong.
Even if, sometimes, he wondered…
Whose Hokage was he, really?
Senju?
Uchiha?
The people?
Perhaps all of them. Or none.
He took a long drag from his pipe, exhaling slowly.
Some truths were simple to speak. But far harder to act on.
He turned, eyes settling on the papers scattered across his desk.
The future was already shifting.
"Ugh! So much work still left to do…"
If only Tsunade would grow up faster—then everything could just be handed off to her!
After quickly tidying up the examination grounds, the exam resumed. The next few matches were uneventful and dull.
Some ninjas began trickling out. Even in times of peace, they couldn't afford to miss work for long.
Still, many others—those on leave—chose to stay. They were eager to see who would end up as the Third Hokage's new disciple.
Then came a match that stirred the crowd.
"Hyuga Hitomi versus Uchiha Naori!"
Just the names alone drew interest.
Two girls stepped forward to face each other.
"Form the Seal of Opposition!"
Hyuga Hitomi had long black hair and white eyes. She wore the traditional white Hyuga uniform, a sword at her waist, and her bangs hung low to hide the cursed seal of the Caged Bird. Her princess-cut hairstyle gave her a delicate, elegant appearance—her face cold and calm, yet without hostility. She radiated a silent grace.
Her opponent, Uchiha Naori, had soft black hair and eyes to match. She wore the Uchiha's dark uniform with the clan crest emblazoned on the back. She carried no weapons, just a ninja pouch at her side. Her princess-cut hair was naturally curled at the tips, and her youthful face gave off a composed, noble air.
Just from appearance alone, it was clear—they were both from prestigious families.
The crowd buzzed with whispers.
This match was fair and untouched by bias. The Third Hokage could swear it.
And yet, what an exciting duel—Hyuga versus Uchiha.
A rare sight indeed.
Though Uchiha seldom acknowledged Hyuga, keeping their eyes fixed on the Senju clan, that didn't stop them from bragging about being the true heirs of dojutsu.
Both were from "eye clans." Neither could afford to lose.
Off to the side, Maki muttered under her breath as she watched.
"Green tea princess with a blade, and a scumbag with curves."
She glanced over at Tsunade, who had been watching her the entire time. Tsunade scoffed and looked away.
"Tsundere twin-tails," Maki said flatly.
"Golden retriever brat," Tsunade muttered back.
Maki turned her attention to Naori, then to the sword Hitomi carried.
Her brow furrowed.
Wait, isn't the Hyuga style all about hand-to-hand techniques? Is the sword just for show?
"If you're planning to be sloppy like usual, you might as well forfeit now," Hitomi said, chin raised in quiet arrogance.
This wasn't the typical Hinata kindness. It was Uchiha-level pride.
But Naori just smiled politely. "I won't be forfeiting. If you're going to be serious, then so will I."
Oddly enough, that sounded more like something a Hyuga would say.
If it weren't for their eyes, you'd think someone at Konoha Hospital had swapped their files.
"Perfect," Hitomi replied coolly.
"The match begins!"
Hitomi shifted her stance, one hand drifting to the hilt of her blade.
She wasn't bluffing. She was serious.
Naori, unarmed, bit her finger and drew a seal on her raised forearm.
With a burst of smoke, two swords appeared—one long, one short. She twirled them effortlessly, sending the scabbards flying as they locked into place.
Dual wielding.
"A sword duel?"
"Wait… since when does Hyuga use swords?" murmured one of the Hyuga elders in the audience.
"Maybe she developed her own style?"
"There's no way—it's not part of the Gentle Fist tradition."
"Actually… it is," another murmured. "That swordsmanship was passed down through the Hyuga main family—based on Gentle Fist, but adapted."
"Gentle Fist has limits," Hitomi said suddenly, overhearing the murmurs. "So I abandoned it."
The crowd erupted in shock.
"What?! Treason! The branch family is breaking tradition!"
But Hitomi ignored them, her gaze fixed firmly on Naori.
These were the very words her father had written to her in a private letter before his death.
"Be careful, Uchiha Naori. My blade is fast."
Her tone was harsh, even though she meant well.
Naori just smiled. "Don't worry. I'm confident in my swordplay."
Though in truth… her sword skills were something she'd only recently started to dabble in.
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