Steel and Wind!
The air is thick with anticipation as the match is announced, and murmurs ripple through the crowd. Some see this as a battle of brute strength versus strategy, while others already have a gut feeling about the outcome. Tenten, standing on one side of the battlefield, tightens her grip, already calculating her approach. Meanwhile, Temari stands confidently, her fan resting lazily on her shoulder, an unimpressed smirk tugging at her lips.
The proctor signals for the match to begin.
Tenten wastes no time, flicking through hand seals and immediately summoning a barrage of weapons—shuriken, kunai, and even a couple of chained sickles—all aimed directly at Temari. But Temari? She doesn’t even move. Not yet. Instead, she watches, waiting for just the right moment.
Then, with a single flick of her wrist, she swings her battle fan forward, releasing a powerful gust of wind that sends every single weapon flying backward, clattering harmlessly onto the floor.
Tenten grits her teeth. Yeah, this was going to be tough.
Up in the stands, murmurs continue. “This isn’t a fair match-up,” someone comments, and even among the genin watching, there's an unspoken agreement—Temari has the advantage here.
But Tenten isn’t giving up. She adjusts her stance, shifting her summoning strategy. If throwing weapons won’t work, maybe she can get in close and use them directly.
With that thought, she launches forward.
Tenten, ever the adaptable fighter, doesn’t hesitate after her first ranged assault fails. In a single fluid motion, she grabs a pair of kamas from the weapons littering the floor, their curved blades gleaming under the arena’s bright lights. If she can't get to Temari with projectiles, she’ll force her into close-quarters combat where that massive battle fan will be more of a hindrance than an advantage.
She charges, swift and calculated, her grip tightening around the weapons as she closes the distance. Temari’s eyes are narrow as she flicks her fan open, ready to create another wind blast—only for Tenten to pivot at the last second, ducking low as the powerful gust barely misses her. The force sends dust and scattered kunai flying across the floor, but Tenten is already inside Temari’s guard, lashing out with a spinning slash aimed at Temari’s midsection.
Temari barely has time to twist away, jerking her fan up like a shield. The metal edge of Tenten’s kama scrapes against it, sending a sharp, grating noise through the air. A flicker of surprise crossed Temari’s face—she hadn’t expected Tenten to be this aggressive.
“She’s fast,” Naruto mutters, leaning forward with his arms crossed. His bright blue eyes are locked on the fight with uncharacteristic focus. “And smart. She knows that big fan makes long-range fighting useless, so she’s not giving Temari room to use it.”
“She’s trying to turn this into a taijutsu fight,” Sasuke notes, watching the clash intently. “Not a bad plan, considering Temari’s wind techniques rely on distance.”
Sakura hums in agreement, eyes flickering between the two kunoichi. “But how long can she keep it up? Tenten’s good, but if she gets knocked back even once, Temari will go right back to controlling the fight.”
Harry, standing beside them, watches with a frown. “She’s fast, but so is Temari.” His eyes, trained to follow high-speed movement from years of Quidditch, track the subtle shifts in Temari’s stance. “She’s adjusting. The moment Tenten slows down, she’ll retaliate.”
A few rows away, Team 8 is also watching with keen interest. Shino remains silent, but his posture suggests deep thought. Beside him, Hinata fidgets slightly, her pale eyes darting between the two fighters. “Tenten’s movements are sharp… but Temari is reading them well,” she murmurs, worried for her fellow kunoichi.
Team 10’s reactions vary—Ino is gripping the railing, her usual confident smirk nowhere to be seen. “Come on, Tenten,” she mutters under her breath, genuinely rooting for her fellow kunoichi.
Shikamaru, as always, looks bored, but the sharp glint in his eyes betrays his thoughts. “She’s got guts,” he comments. “But she’s playing a dangerous game. If Temari lands just one solid hit with that fan, it’s over.”
Choji nods in agreement, munching on a bag of chips. “That wind is brutal… but man, Tenten’s going for it. She’s really not letting up.”
Down on the battlefield, Tenten presses her advantage. She ducks under another attempted swing of the fan and retaliates with a vicious upward slash, forcing Temari to backpedal. Temari growls under her breath—this girl is relentless. But she isn’t about to let herself be pushed around.
With a sudden burst of movement, she steps into Tenten’s next attack instead of dodging, letting the kama scrape against the reinforced metal of her fan before she twists, using the momentum to swing the fan’s blunt edge directly at Tenten’s side. Tenten barely has time to react. She manages to block with the handle of her weapon, but the sheer force behind the impact sends her skidding back across the arena floor. She grits her teeth—she can’t afford to be forced back!
From the sidelines, Might Guy watches with an intense gleam in his eyes, his arms crossed. “That’s it, Tenten! Adapt and keep up the pressure!” His booming encouragement echoes through the arena, making a few people flinch.
Neji, however, is silent, his pale eyes following every move. His usual stoic mask remains, but those who know him well can tell he's analyzing every detail of the fight.
Lee, fists clenched, vibrates with barely contained energy. “Tenten is incredible!” he exclaims, practically bouncing on his feet. “She’s forcing a close-range battle against someone with a massive range advantage! Truly, a magnificent display of youthful determination!”
Neji exhales through his nose. “She’s putting up a strong fight,” he acknowledges, but his sharp gaze flickers toward Temari. “But it won’t be enough. Temari is waiting for an opening. She just found it.”
As if on cue, Temari smirks. “You’re not bad,” she admits, tilting her head. “But you’re making a big mistake.”
Tenten’s eyes widen as she sees it—Temari had been luring her in. And now, with just enough distance between them, the Sand kunoichi suddenly swings her fan with full force.
The resulting gale roars through the arena like a storm.
Tenten barely has time to react. She has a split second to act before the violent gust is upon her. Without hesitation, she forms the hand seal—Substitution Jutsu!
In an instant, her body flickers out of existence, replaced by a splintering log that is immediately shredded by Temari’s wind release. The force of the attack is so strong that it sends the remains of the log flying across the arena, some pieces embedding themselves into the walls with sharp cracks.
Meanwhile, Tenten reappears in a crouch on the other side of the battlefield, halfway across the arena, chest rising and falling as she takes in what just happened. That… would have hurt. She exhales a deep, relieved breath, swiping the back of her hand over her forehead. “That was too close,” she mutters under her breath. If she’d been even a second slower, she would have been thrown into the wall just like those kunai earlier.
Up in the stands, Kankuro tenses, arms crossed tightly. His expression is no longer the relaxed smirk he’d worn at the start of the fight. Instead, his brows furrow as his dark eyes follow Tenten’s form. “She dodged?” he mutters, disbelief lacing his tone. Tenten had avoided Temari’s wind release—one of their strongest advantages. That wasn’t a small feat.
Next to him, Gaara remains silent, his gaze unreadable. He isn’t surprised—his sand would’ve stopped it, after all. But for a regular genin to react that fast? Interesting.
On the other side of the stands, Neji’s pale eyes narrow slightly. His arms remain crossed, his expression cool and composed, but there’s a flicker of something in his gaze. Tenten wasn’t just strong—she was fast.
Lee, on the other hand, is practically vibrating with excitement. His fists are clenched, eyes sparkling with admiration. “Amazing, Tenten!” he exclaims, nearly hopping on his feet. “She dodged at the last possible second! Such incredible speed and timing!”
Might Guy grin broadly, teeth shining. “Of course! That is the power of youth, Lee! Tenten’s reflexes are just as honed as her weapons skills!” He dramatically wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. “What an extraordinary student she is!”
Neji exhales sharply through his nose. “It was well-timed,” he admits, his voice measured. “But now she’s at a distance again. She’ll have to close in, or Temari will just use another wind attack.”
Lee nods eagerly. “Yes, but Tenten won’t make the same mistake twice! She’s already thinking of her next move—I can feel it!”
Back in the arena, Temari frowns. Her grip on her fan tightens slightly, her sharp eyes studying Tenten’s new position. She hadn’t expected the kunoichi to dodge so quickly. Most people struggled against her wind-based attacks, but Tenten reacted instantly.
Tenten, still catching her breath, forces a small grin. “You really don’t hold back, huh?” she calls out, rolling her shoulders. “Guess I’ll just have to work a little harder.”
Temari’s lips curl into a smirk. “Go ahead and try.”
Tenten narrowed her eyes at Temari, calculating. She had two choices.
She could continue trying to force Temari into close-quarters combat, but that meant disarming her first—and that was the problem. The moment she reached for that giant fan, she’d be wide open. If Temari retaliated with another blast of wind, she wouldn’t just get bruised—she’d be flung across the arena, hard. She might even end up seriously injured. Tenten was strong, but she wasn’t stupid. Her fingers twitched at her sides, frustration creeping in. But she pushed it down. She knew when a fight was a lost cause. And right now, if she continued, she’d be walking into a beating.
Screw that.
Tenten straightened her back, inhaled deeply, and let it out in a slow exhale. Then, with a sharp nod, she raised a hand.
“I forfeit.”
The words echoed through the arena, cutting through the tension like a blade.
For a moment, there was silence. Then murmurs broke out among the crowd.
Temari blinked, processing the sudden end to the fight, before scoffing lightly. “Hmph. Smart choice.” She lazily rested her fan on her shoulder, clearly unbothered by the match’s conclusion.
Up in the stands, reactions were mixed.
Naruto gawked, leaning forward. “Eh?! Just like that?” His brows furrowed in confusion. “But she was holding her own!”
Sakura crossed her arms. “I mean… it makes sense,” she admitted. “Tenten fights with weapons, and Temari counters them with wind. She couldn’t get in close without risking serious injury.”
Harry hummed in agreement, arms folded. “Yeah, sometimes retreating is the best option.” His green eyes flickered to Tenten, who stood tall despite the forfeit. She wasn’t ashamed—she had made a strategic choice, and that alone was respectable.
Sasuke, meanwhile, had his usual impassive look, though his sharp eyes flickered with quiet analysis. A tactical retreat. He could respect that. “It wasn’t worth pushing forward,” he muttered. “She would’ve gotten torn apart.”
Kakashi, ever the silent observer, simply nodded once. “A shinobi must know when to fight and when to step back. That’s also part of survival.”
Shino adjusted his glasses. “A logical decision. Had she proceeded, she would have suffered unnecessary damage.”
Hinata, who had been silently watching the fight with her hands clasped together, gave a small nod of agreement. “Tenten-san fought well… but Temari-san had the advantage.”
Kurenai, arms crossed, gave a slight hum. “It’s always difficult to decide when to step down, especially in front of an audience. But she made the right call.”
Shikamaru let out a long sigh, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Man… I would’ve forfeited way earlier.”
Ino shot him an unimpressed look. “Of course, you would have, lazyass.”
Choji popped a chip into his mouth. “Honestly, I respect it. No point in getting your face smashed in when you know you can’t win.”
Asuma nodded in agreement. “Tenten’s got guts, but she’s also smart. This is just the preliminaries—no point in taking unnecessary injuries before the finals.”
Might Guy gave a proud smile. “A wise decision! The power of youth is also knowing when to conserve one’s energy for the future!”
Lee, however, looked absolutely devastated. His hands were clenched into fists, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Tenten! You were doing so well! But I understand! A true warrior knows when to fight another day!”
Neji, meanwhile, remained stoic, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze. Respect. Tenten had made the best choice given the circumstances. As Tenten walked off the battlefield, head held high despite her loss, she caught Neji’s eye for a brief moment. He gave a small nod. That alone was enough.
The match was over. But Tenten had nothing to be ashamed of.
Temari huffed as she made her way back up to the stands, her fan resting on her shoulder. She had won, technically. But did it really count as a win if her opponent just… gave up? She clicked her tongue in annoyance. It didn’t feel right. Tenten had fought well—Temari could admit that. She was fast, precise, and had actually made her work to keep her distance. That was rare. But in the end, Tenten had just forfeited. No final clash, no grand finish. She had simply decided the fight wasn’t worth it. And sure, Temari understood the logic—she had an obvious advantage, after all—but still.
She wanted to earn that victory, not be handed it.
“Hah! That was the most anticlimactic fight I’ve ever seen,” Kankuro said with a wide, teasing grin as she stepped beside him. “Did you even do anything?”
Temari shot him a glare. “Oh, shut up.”
Kankuro held up his hands in mock surrender, smirking. “I mean, I’m just saying… She didn’t even let you finish her off. You got robbed of that satisfying ‘I’m better than you’ moment.”
Temari exhaled through her nose, rolling her shoulders. “Tch. Tell me about it.”
Kankuro nudged her with his elbow, grinning. “Hey, maybe next time, you’ll actually get to fight.”
Temari smacked him on the back of the head with her fan.
“Ow! Okay, okay, geez!” Kankuro whined, rubbing his head. “I was just messing with you!”
Temari sighed, shaking her head. “Whatever.” She leaned back against the railing, arms crossed. “At least I made it to the finals.”
Kankuro snorted. “Yeah, by default.”
Another whack with the fan.
“OW—TEMARI, DAMN IT!”
Despite herself, Temari smirked. Maybe the fight had been unsatisfying, but at least some things never changed.