Before the gates of Konoha, the air was filled with the bustle of carriages and horses.
Luxuriously decorated carts slowly entered. Inside the carriages sat Daimyo and high-ranking officials from various nations. Dressed in exquisite kimonos with status-symbol swords at their waists, they looked out through bamboo blinds with expressions ranging from majestic to reserved, observing this vibrant ninja village while surrounded by attendants.
Today was the final round of the Chunin Selection Exam. Spectators arriving from all over crowded the streets, the clamor of voices was deafening, and the atmosphere was extraordinarily lively.
People gathered in small groups, heatedly discussing the upcoming matches.
"Neji is competing this year. He was the top graduate of the Ninja Academy last year." An excited merchant wearing a headscarf said, his right hand gesturing unconsciously.
A traveler wearing a bamboo hat nearby shook his head. "I still have high hopes for the Uchiha brothers. Especially Sasuke, it's said his performance in the preliminaries was amazing."
"Oh, you mean those two..."
A fat merchant chimed in, "I heard Mamoru is the strongest among this batch of Genin."
The merchant who spoke first raised an eyebrow, showing a skeptical look. "Who told you that? No matter how strong he is, he might not be able to beat the genius of the Hyuga clan, right?"
The traveler in the bamboo hat rubbed his chin. "But the Uchiha name isn't just for show either."
While they were arguing incessantly, a crisp sound of wind chimes drifted from the street corner as more carts slowly entered, ferrying more distinguished guests toward the competition venue.
...
Inside the Uchiha residence, the morning light spilled across the hallway through the doors and windows.
Mamoru stood before the bathroom mirror, briskly unwrapping the last of the bandages from his body. The new skin was exposed to the air, its color lighter than the surrounding area. He lightly pressed the skin, the corners of his lips turning up slightly.
"It's time to go." Sasuke leaned against the doorframe, his right hand casually shoved in his pocket.
"Don't be in such a rush." Mamoru said without turning his head, focused on checking his recovery. "There's plenty of time. Even if we arrive early, we'll just be standing there like idiots."
Sasuke's gaze fell on the nearly healed wound on his back, his brow furrowing slightly. "Are you a monster? It's only been a few days, and the wound has already grown back?"
"Mystical Palm Technique, my friend, Mystical Palm Technique." Mamoru turned around, triumphantly wagging his finger. "I actually think the efficiency was too low."
Sasuke's eyes held suspicion. "You think I don't know what the Mystical Palm Technique is like? There's no way it has such effect."
Mamoru put on an air of 'you don't know quality,' intentionally adopting a pretentious tone. "Can the Mystical Palm Technique I use be compared to those of mere mortals? Who do you think you're looking down on?"
"Who cares about that?" Sasuke turned his face away, his tone blunt. "Hurry up, or I'm leaving without you."
"So noisy, always nagging." Mamoru curled his lip, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water onto his face.
Water droplets slid down his cheeks. He grabbed a towel to wipe his face and briskly pulled on a black-and-red hooded short-sleeved shirt.
Picking up his forehead protector, he studied it for a moment, gave a light 'tsk,' and tossed it back onto the sink. Finding it troublesome, he didn't even bother to pull up the front zipper, letting the shirt hang open to reveal his emerging abdominal muscles.
When he came out of the bathroom, Sasuke only gave him a faint glance, not even bothering to comment. He shouldered his already prepared backpack.
Seeing this, a playful smirk curled onto Mamoru's lips. "How serious. Your gear is so well-prepared."
Sasuke gave a light snort and turned toward the entrance, his fingers unconsciously adjusting the position of his backpack straps.
Mamoru shrugged and followed leisurely, their footsteps echoing and intertwining in the early morning residence.
...
Mamoru and Sasuke walked one after the other, breaking the desolation of the path before the door. It wasn't until they had walked along the Naka River for a while that the gurgling sound of water finally washed away the silence in their ears.
Continuing forward, the two turned into a small path covered by thick shade. The light suddenly dimmed and then brightened again.
The view opened up as the bustling main road of Konoha stretched before them, filled with the clamor of people.
At the end of the street, that magnificent arena stood in silent majesty.
"There are so many people." Mamoru narrowed his eyes, his tone carrying a hint of excitement.
Sasuke didn't respond, his gaze simply sweeping over the surging crowd.
As they wove through the bustling crowd, Sasuke was focused on moving toward their goal when he suddenly felt the space beside him go empty.
He instinctively turned his head and found that Mamoru had fallen behind at some point. He was standing in front of a grilled meat skewer stall, eyes shining as he pointed at several sizzling, oily skewers, talking enthusiastically to the owner.
"Hey!"
Several black lines immediately appeared on Sasuke's forehead as he helplessly turned back.
"You... have some self-restraint."
In the end, he practically had to drag and pull the fellow, who kept looking back with a face full of reluctance, away from that food street filled with tempting aromas.
Shortly after, the two finally arrived before the massive entrance of the arena. Not far away, luxuriously decorated carts were slowly coming to a halt. Well-dressed nobles, surrounded by attendants, were being led in through a dedicated entrance on the other side.
Mamoru couldn't help but stop and curiously look at those primitive means of transportation for a few moments, once again feeling a sense of incongruity and doubt regarding the world's technology.
"Hey, stop dazing off, we need to go in."
After saying that, Sasuke took the lead toward the contestants' entrance.
Mamoru caught up quickly, leaned in, and asked in a low, playful voice, "Sasuke, you think with so many big shots coming at once... if we kidnapped them all, how much ransom could we get?"
Sasuke gave him an annoyed look upon hearing this. "You're thinking about those absurd things again."
"Can't I even think about it?" Mamoru puffed out his chest and asked back.
"Of course not." Sasuke said with certainty. "Before you even get the money, the Allied Shinobi Forces of the Great Nations would have you surrounded so tightly not even a drop of water could leak through."
"Tch, with my mobility, they want to catch me?" Mamoru raised his head dismissively. "In their dreams."
"The one dreaming should be you." Sasuke retorted mercilessly.
"..."
Mamoru was momentarily speechless, only able to stare with wide eyes.
While bickering, the two passed through the main gate guarded by two solemn-faced Konoha ninjas and entered a passage lit only by a few dim overhead lights, heading toward the interior of the arena.
Passing through the brief transition between light and dark, the view suddenly opened up, and the wave of noise instantly hit them.
Looking out, it was an extremely wide circular field. The ground was hard-packed earth, with several patches of grass deliberately laid out. Along the edges of the field, some trees and shrubs were arranged in a staggered fashion, simulating a complex outdoor combat environment.
Surrounding it were towering walls, and at the very top, encircling the area, were the pavilions and galleries that served as the spectator stands, which were currently overflowing with the roar of the crowd.
In the center of the arena, seven figures were already standing scattered about. They were the contestants who had passed the preliminaries.