A New Path

The board flickered for a moment before shutting off entirely, its once-glowing names fading into darkness. A hush fell over the room as realization set in—this was the last match. There was no need for the board to spin anymore. Two names remained: Nara Shikamaru vs. Akimichi Choji.

Hayate glanced up at the board, then back at the two remaining competitors. “The final match: Shikamaru Nara versus Choji Akimichi. Both of you, come down to the arena.” His voice, though raspy as ever, carried an undeniable sense of finality.

Shikamaru exhaled through his nose, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he reluctantly started toward the stairs. “What a drag…” he muttered, dragging his feet like a man heading to his own execution.

Choji hesitated, looking between Shikamaru and Asuma with uncertainty. He and Shikamaru never fought seriously against each other. Sure, they’d sparred a few times, but this was different.

Asuma, arms crossed, sighed. “I have no idea how this is gonna go,” he admitted, mostly to himself. “They’re both too lazy to take this fight seriously.”

Ino huffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, come on, Choji, just win already, you fatass!”

Choji stiffened. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his body trembling slightly. His face, usually soft with an easygoing expression, twisted with visible irritation. A vein throbbed at his temple.

Shikamaru, who had been lazily walking down the steps, stopped mid-step and turned his head back toward Ino, staring at her with a deadpan expression. “Seriously?” he drawled, already seeing where this was going.

“Oh boy,” Asuma muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Naruto blinked. “Uh… is that a bad thing?”

“Ino just motivated Choji in the worst way possible,” Shikamaru muttered as he kept walking. He let out a suffering sigh. “Man… what a drag.”

Choji turned, his eyes burning with an anger rarely seen from him. “I’M NOT FAT—” His voice boomed as he stomped toward the arena, shaking the floor beneath him with each step. “—I’M BIG-BONED!”

Shikamaru let out another long, exaggerated sigh as he finally stepped onto the battlefield. This was going to be a pain. 

Hayate let out a light cough before raising his hand. “Final match… begin!”

The second the word left his mouth, Choji lunged forward with surprising speed, his fist cocked back. Shikamaru barely had time to sigh before he was forced to dodge, shifting his weight to the side just in time to avoid a devastating punch that sent a sharp gust of air in its wake.

“Damn, Choji,” Shikamaru muttered, rolling backward to put distance between them. “You could at least pretend to hold back.”

Choji didn’t respond—his face was set in a scowl, his eyes burning with frustration. He stomped forward, fists swinging in wide, powerful arcs. Shikamaru dodged again, narrowly avoiding a hook that would’ve sent him flying. Tch. His speed isn’t an issue, but his raw power is another story.

Up in the stands, Naruto whistled. “Whoa, Choji’s fast when he’s mad!”

Ino smirked, placing her hands on her hips. “Of course he is! That’s why I called him a fatass—he fights harder when he’s pissed!”

Sakura gave her a disbelieving look. “You did that on purpose?”

Ino flipped her ponytail. “Duh.”

Back in the arena, Shikamaru tsked, weaving between Choji’s blows. This is annoying. He had been hoping to end this quickly, but with Choji attacking so relentlessly, he didn’t have a chance to form the necessary seals for his Shadow Possession Jutsu. His best option was to let Choji tire himself out.

But that was easier said than done.

Choji growled and pushed forward, swinging his massive arm in an overhead strike. Shikamaru barely managed to sidestep before Choji’s fist slammed into the ground, cracking the stone beneath him. Dust kicked up from the impact, and Shikamaru shielded his face.

That could’ve been my head.

Asuma, watching from above, sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, this is about what I expected.”

Shikamaru leaped back, keeping his distance, but Choji didn’t give him time to breathe. He charged forward, fists raised. Shikamaru knew better than to try and block—it would be like trying to stop a boulder with his bare hands.

“Tch. Guess I actually have to try,” he muttered, annoyance creeping into his tone.

Choji let out a battle cry and swung again. Too fast. Shikamaru ducked at the last second, feeling the rush of wind as the punch passed over his head. Too strong. He rolled to the side as Choji immediately followed up with a spinning kick that nearly took his head off.

This wasn’t like sparring back at the training grounds. This wasn’t friendly.

Choji wasn’t holding back. And that meant Shikamaru couldn’t either.

Choji's fist was already mid-swing when a sudden burst of dust hit his face, stinging his eyes. "Ugh—what the hell!?" he coughed, instinctively bringing an arm up to rub at his watering eyes.

Shikamaru exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “Man, you’re really bad at keeping your guard up.”

Seizing the moment, he lashed out with a sharp kick to Choji’s stomach, his sandal striking against soft flesh. Choji let out a grunt as the force sent him stumbling backward, arms flailing slightly before he managed to plant his feet.

Tch. Not enough.

Not wasting a second, Shikamaru’s hands snapped into the Rat seal. His shadow slithered across the arena floor, reaching for Choji’s feet.

But just as it was about to latch on—

“Human Boulder Jutsu!”

Shikamaru barely had time to curse before Choji’s body curled inward and launched toward him, spinning wildly like a living wrecking ball. The air pressure alone sent dust whipping across the floor.

Eyes widening, Shikamaru aborted his jutsu and dove to the side just in time to avoid getting flattened. Choji’s boulder-like form barreled past him, crushing everything in his path. The moment he hit the arena wall, the entire stadium shook from the impact, sending small cracks spiderwebbing through the stone.

A beat of silence followed.

Then—

"Whoa!!” Naruto practically jumped in excitement, gripping the railing with wide eyes. “That was awesome, dattebayo!”

Sakura blinked in disbelief. “Did he just—did he just shake the arena?!”

Sasuke, arms crossed, frowned. “Tch. That technique is stronger than I thought.”

Harry, standing beside them, felt his hands unconsciously tighten against the railing. He had no doubt that if that had hit Shikamaru, he’d be down in one move.

Kakashi hummed in amusement. “That’s the power of the Akimichi clan for you.”

On the other side of the stands, Kurenai let out a breath. "That could’ve been bad."

Shino, standing beside her, observed quietly. His bugs stirred beneath his coat. The Akimichi are powerful. But power alone isn't enough to guarantee victory.

Meanwhile, near the entrance to the stands, a new group had just arrived.

Might Guy, Tenten, and Neji had returned from visiting Rock Lee in the hospital. They had barely stepped into the arena when the ground beneath them trembled from Choji’s impact.

Tenten's eyes widened slightly. "Okay—what is going on here?"

Neji’s gaze flickered to the arena, where Choji was still uncurled from his boulder form. His expression remained unreadable. "A battle between two teammates. Though it seems one is at a disadvantage."

Guy, arms crossed, grinned. "Ah, but don’t underestimate the will of youth! A shinobi’s true strength shines brightest in the heat of battle!"

Back in the arena, Choji shook himself off and cracked his knuckles, looking pleased with himself. “Hah! Bet you weren’t expecting that, huh?”

Shikamaru, still catching his breath, gave him a deadpan stare. “Yeah. Because clearly, I’m always expecting my best friend to try and kill me.”

Choji grinned. “That’s your fault for calling me fat!”

Shikamaru sighed, rubbing his temples. “I didn’t even—you know what? Forget it. This is so troublesome…”

But despite his words, his mind was already working through the next move.

Because if there was one thing he knew—

He couldn’t afford to get hit again.

Choji barely had time to uncurl from his Human Boulder technique before Shikamaru was already on the move.

No time to rest.

With a flicker of hand seals, the Nara cast Clone Jutsu, and two identical versions of himself rushed toward Choji at full speed.

"You're really making me fight seriously, huh?" Shikamaru muttered under his breath.

Choji scowled, still fuming from Ino’s earlier comment. "Damn right!" He clenched his fists and braced himself.

The two Shikamarus came at him at the same time—one from the left, the other from the right.

Choji realized the problem immediately. This was a strategy meant to force him into close combat, restricting his ability to use his clan's jutsu. If he couldn't get the necessary hand seals or space to expand his body, his Multi-Size Technique was effectively useless.

Shikamaru was pushing him into a direct brawl—and unfortunately for Choji, Shikamaru was annoyingly good at setting up unfavorable fights.

"Tch." Choji clicked his tongue but didn’t back down. Instead, he met the attack head-on.

With a grunt, Choji swung his arm out, his fist smashing through the first clone with ease. The fake Shikamaru puffed out of existence in a swirl of chakra.

But as soon as he did—

Another clone was already coming down from above!

Eyes widening, Choji barely had time to react as the second Shikamaru came down from the air, heel aimed directly at his shoulder.

"Damn it—!"

The impact crashed into him, forcing his body downward—but before he could even recover, the real Shikamaru was already moving in from below.

A straight punch, aimed right at his stomach.

THUD!

Shikamaru’s fist connected.

Choji let out a grunt, stumbling back slightly from the blow. His large frame absorbed most of the damage, but the pressure of back-to-back attacks was relentless. Shikamaru landed on the ground, already moving again. He twisted his body and aimed a roundhouse kick toward Choji’s side, hoping to drive him further off balance.

But this time, Choji reacted.

"Enough of that!"

His arm swung up in a wide arc—

Catching Shikamaru’s leg in midair.

Shikamaru’s eyes widened slightly.

Shit.

Before he could even think of an escape, Choji’s grip tightened—and with a grunt of effort, he yanked Shikamaru forward, lifting him off the ground.

"Let’s see how you like getting thrown around!"

With a loud grunt, Choji swung his best friend over his shoulder and slammed him into the dirt.

BOOM!

A cloud of dust exploded from the impact as Shikamaru hit the ground hard, his body skidding back from the sheer force.

A beat of silence.

Then—

"Ow."

Shikamaru groaned, coughing as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. "That was unnecessary."

Choji smirked, rolling his shoulder. "You started it."

Shikamaru sat up, rubbing his neck, and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"Man... this is so troublesome."

But even as he complained, his sharp eyes were already observing, analyzing, and planning his next move.

Because while Choji might have the upper hand in raw strength—

Shikamaru had one advantage.

His mind.

Choji barely had time to revel in his counterattack before he felt something—hands gripping his arms from behind.

His entire body stiffened in shock.

"What the—?!"

A clone.

One that had been completely hidden up until now. It wasn’t just a simple Clone Jutsu—no, Shikamaru must’ve hidden it with a Genjutsu, masking its presence until the perfect moment. And that moment was now when Choji was still recovering from throwing Shikamaru into the ground.

His eyes widened.

He planned this?!

The clone tightened its grip, locking Choji’s arms in place, preventing him from moving even an inch.

And in that split second—Shikamaru moved.

Still rubbing his neck, Shikamaru exhaled sharply and got to his feet, his fingers already forming a hand seal.

"Man," he muttered, dusting himself off, "this was way more effort than I wanted to put in..."

Choji gritted his teeth and struggled against the clone’s grip, but it was too tight, and he was still slightly winded from their exchange.

And that was all the time Shikamaru needed.

With a single hand seal, his shadow shot forward across the ground.

The Shadow Possession Jutsu was a perfect counter against an immobilized opponent—Choji couldn’t dodge, jump, or even block.

"Damn it!"

The dark tendrils of Shikamaru’s shadow slithered across the floor like snakes, rapidly closing in on Choji’s feet.

"No way!" Choji thrashed harder, trying to break free from the clone, but it wouldn’t let go.

The shadow reached him in an instant—

And latched on.

The moment it connected, the dark tendrils snaked up his body, locking onto his own shadow and freezing him completely in place.

A cold chill ran down Choji’s spine as he felt it.

That unnatural stiffness.

The loss of control.

His entire body was no longer his to move.

He knew immediately—

It’s over.

A beat of silence passed.

Then, Shikamaru exhaled, finally relaxing.

"Phew." He rolled his shoulders, watching as his shadow held Choji in place. "That was a pain..."

He looked up at Choji, who was gritting his teeth, eyes blazing with frustration but unable to do anything.

"You get it, right?" Shikamaru said lazily, lifting his arm—forcing Choji’s body to mimic the motion exactly. "I got you."

Choji’s breath was heavy, still trying to resist. His fists clenched, but it was pointless.

He had been completely caught.

And with that, the battle was decided.

Choji let out a long, defeated sigh. He hated to admit it, but there was no way out of this. With a reluctant huff, he slumped his shoulders—well, as much as he could while still under Shikamaru’s control.

"Fine... I forfeit."

The moment the words left his mouth, the Shadow Possession Jutsu unraveled, releasing Choji from its hold. His body instantly relaxed, and he let out a small, exhausted groan.

Shikamaru, equally drained, rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms, sighing dramatically. "Man, finally." He rubbed the back of his neck, muttering, "That was such a drag..."

Choji turned to him with a slight pout. "You didn’t have to go that hard, y’know."

"And you didn’t have to try and squash me into the wall," Shikamaru shot back, deadpan.

Choji crossed his arms. "I was mad."

"Clearly."

Despite the loss, Choji grinned and patted his stomach. "Still, I got you good a few times, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah," Shikamaru yawned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You happy now? Can we go back up?"

"Yeah, yeah." Choji mirrored his words as the two of them walked back to the stands together.

The moment they reached Team 10, Asuma greeted them with a smirk, arms crossed.

"Well, well," their sensei said, amused. "Would you look at that? My two most ‘hardworking’ students actually took a fight seriously for once."

Choji gave a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his head. "Heh, yeah..."

Shikamaru just sighed. "Didn’t really have a choice."

"Still," Asuma said, ruffling both of their heads before they could dodge, "you both did well. I’m proud of you."

Choji beamed at the praise. Shikamaru just groaned. "Ugh, stop, Sensei. That’s embarrassing."

From the side, Ino sighed dramatically, arms crossed. "Hmph. I was hoping you’d lose, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru raised a brow. "Wow. Thanks, Ino. Real supportive."

"I have my reasons," Ino huffed, tossing her hair. "Now I owe Sakura dinner."

"You were betting on me losing?!" Shikamaru gawked at her.

"Of course," Ino said, grinning. "I thought it’d be funny."

"Geez, thanks," Shikamaru muttered, shaking his head.

Choji, still smiling, clapped a hand on Shikamaru’s back. "Well, I think you did great!"

"At least one of you has my back..." Shikamaru sighed, rubbing his temples.

Asuma chuckled at their antics. "Alright, alright, let’s not fight after the match. You both did well, and that’s all that matters."

Choji grinned. "Yeah!"

Shikamaru just let out another exaggerated sigh. "Can we take a nap now?"

"No!" both Choji and Ino said at the same time.

Shikamaru just groaned in defeat. "Troublesome..."

Hayate coughed lightly, stepping forward as he addressed the exhausted yet victorious participants. His voice, though raspy, carried authority as it echoed across the arena.

"That concludes the preliminary matches." He let the statement settle before continuing. "The winners of their respective battles will proceed to the final round of the Chūnin Exams."

A murmur ran through the remaining genin, some relieved, others tensed with anticipation. The battles had been grueling, pushing them to their limits, and now they stood at the precipice of an even greater challenge.

"You will all have one month to prepare," Hayate announced. "Use this time wisely. The finals will not be like the preliminaries—this time, you'll be fighting in front of an audience, including the daimyō and many powerful figures."

The weight of his words sank in. A month to prepare—some felt relief, others saw it as yet another challenge.

With that, the preliminaries officially ended.

As Team 7 walked out of the now-clearing arena, a palpable sense of accomplishment lingered between them. They were battered, bruised, and undoubtedly exhausted, but they had all made it to the finals.

Kakashi, hands tucked into his pockets, glanced at his students with an eye smile, his single visible eye crinkling in what could only be described as pride.

"Well, you all survived. Congratulations," he said casually, yet there was unmistakable approval in his tone. "I’ll admit, I’m impressed. Making it to the finals is no small feat."

Naruto, practically vibrating with excitement despite his fatigue, grinned widely.

"Heh, of course we made it! We’re Team 7!" he boasted, hands on his hips. "Did you see how awesome we were, Kakashi-sensei?"

Sakura rolled her eyes, though she didn’t deny it. "Yeah, yeah, we all did great." She then frowned slightly. "But… now the real challenge starts."

Sasuke, quiet and contemplative, only let out a short "Hn." His mind was already focused elsewhere—on his weaknesses, his losses, and what he needed to improve.

Harry, walking beside them, adjusted the strap of his katana, his own mind filled with strategies and tactics. He had seen everyone’s strengths, and now he knew what he had to work on.

Kakashi nodded. "Exactly. Which is why…" He stopped walking, turning to face them, his voice shifting into something far more serious.

"For this next month, I’ll be training you like never before."

Naruto blinked. "Wait—like, training training?"

Kakashi’s eye curved in amusement. "What did you expect? A vacation?"

Naruto pouted. "Well, I was kinda hoping…"

Sasuke, however, smirked slightly. "Good. I need to get stronger."

"Tch, same here," Sakura agreed, her fingers unconsciously clenching into fists. She wasn’t going to be left behind.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "If the finals are going to be harder than this, we’ll need all the training we can get."

Kakashi watched them carefully, noting their expressions. Determination, exhaustion, anticipation—all of it mixed together in the way only true shinobi could balance.

"That’s the spirit," he said approvingly. "But before we start anything, there's something I need to address."

He looked specifically at Sasuke and Sakura.

"Your curse marks."

Both of them tensed instinctively, their hands briefly moving toward the afflicted areas. Even now, Sakura could feel the faint pulsing of the mark on her shoulder, and Sasuke had no doubt that his own was reacting in a similar way.

"I’ll be taking a closer look with my Sharingan," Kakashi continued. "If the marks are harmful—which, given Orochimaru’s involvement, they likely are—I’ll need to find a way to diminish their effects."

Sakura swallowed. "Is… that even possible?"

Kakashi nodded. "There are ways. Seals, for example. But I need to analyze them first. I’ll figure something out."

Sasuke didn’t say anything, but the way his jaw clenched showed he wasn’t thrilled about the discussion. However, he knew better than to ignore the risk.

"For now," Kakashi said, his tone final, "rest up. We’ll start training soon. And be prepared—because once we start, I won’t be going easy on any of you."

The four of them exchanged glances. The one-month break wouldn’t be a break at all. If anything, it would be a trial all on its own.

But none of them were planning to back down.

The air inside the holding cells was stale, thick with tension, and the faint scent of iron. The dim light cast eerie shadows across the damp stone walls, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Dosu Kinuta, Zaku Abumi, and Kin Tsuchi sat restrained, their bodies still battered from their respective battles. Unlike the other competitors who had been taken to the medical wing for proper treatment, they had been brought here—straight to interrogation.

They already knew why.

They had been found out.

The injuries they had sustained were treated only just enough to keep them conscious, but no effort had been made to ease their pain. Their bandages were loose, haphazardly wrapped, and their wounds still ached. Orochimaru had abandoned them. That much was clear.

The heavy iron door groaned open.

A man stepped inside, his very presence suffocating.

His build was imposing, his expression unreadable, yet his gaze was sharp as a blade. His most defining feature was the X-shaped scar across his face, cutting through his features like a permanent mark of war. His arms were crossed as he stepped forward, his boots clicking against the stone floor.

Behind him, another figure followed.

The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. Despite his age, Hiruzen radiated an unshakable presence, his sharp eyes never once straying from the three prisoners before him. His gaze alone carried the weight of decades of experience, of victories and losses, of wisdom and judgment.

Dosu, despite his situation, straightened slightly. He had been in the presence of powerful shinobi before, but something about these two men together made the air feel heavier.

"Dosu Kinuta. Zaku Abumi. Kin Tsuchi." The man with the scar addressed them, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge of authority. "You are to answer every question truthfully. If you lie, you will know the consequences."

Zaku clicked his tongue, looking away with an annoyed scowl. Kin stayed quiet, her fists clenching on her lap.

Dosu exhaled through his nose. He knew they had no choice.

"Let’s start with something simple," the man continued. "Why is Orochimaru here?"

Silence stretched between them.

The scarred man’s eyes narrowed. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Dosu swallowed, glancing at Zaku and Kin. The other two didn’t answer—not because they were being defiant, but because they knew that Dosu was the one who spoke for them.

Finally, Dosu let out a low breath and answered.

"He came here for Sasuke Uchiha."

Hiruzen, standing still as a statue, closed his eyes briefly, as if unsurprised. Then, without opening them, he spoke.

"I'm aware."

Dosu stiffened slightly.

"That can’t be the only reason he’s here." The Third Hokage’s eyes opened again, sharp and unwavering. "What else?"

Dosu hesitated.

Something inside him felt… different. Like a weight had been lifted from his very soul. The seal that Orochimaru had placed on him, on all of them—it was still there, but it felt hollow. As if its power had been drained, sealed away somewhere unreachable.

Orochimaru no longer had a hold on them.

Realization dawned on Dosu. The truth was clear—they were no longer bound to Orochimaru. They no longer had to fear the consequences of betrayal.

So, he spoke.

"Orochimaru has… an alliance with the Akatsuki."

Hiruzen’s expression did not change, but Dosu did not miss the way his fingers twitched slightly. A subtle reaction, but telling.

The scarred man, however, narrowed his eyes further. "An alliance?" His tone was skeptical as if he found the very idea ridiculous.

Dosu nodded slowly. "A wary one." He glanced between the two men. "They’d stab each other in the back if given the chance. Orochimaru uses the Akatsuki, and the Akatsuki uses him. But he does work with them—when it benefits him."

Hiruzen's lips pressed into a thin line.

"Elaborate."

Dosu exhaled, gathering his thoughts. "I overheard him once. A conversation, a meeting. I think it was with their leader." He paused, making sure his words were precise. "Orochimaru was sent here—to the Hidden Leaf—to destroy it from the inside."

A heavy silence fell upon the room.

Hiruzen’s expression remained unreadable, but his gaze burned into Dosu like a brand. The scarred man shifted slightly, arms still crossed, but his presence felt even heavier now. The tension was suffocating.

"That is all I know," Dosu finished, lowering his head slightly. There was nothing more he could say.

For a long moment, neither Hiruzen nor the scarred man spoke. The air in the room felt impossibly thick. The weight of Dosu’s confession hung over them like a storm cloud. Then, finally, Hiruzen exhaled. His expression remained solemn, but there was something else in his gaze—something that could only be described as wariness.

"Thank you for your cooperation," the Third Hokage said.

Dosu blinked. He had expected something harsher.

"However," Hiruzen continued, his voice regaining its quiet authority, "you are not free to leave. You will remain in this cell for one month."

Zaku’s head snapped up. "What?! A month?! That’s—!"

"Consider it a light sentence." Hiruzen’s voice cut through any protest. "You have committed crimes within our village. By all rights, you should be executed. But…" His gaze softened, if only slightly. "I have always been merciful, even to my enemies."

Dosu held his breath, his mind racing. A month. That was nothing. A small price for survival.

Kin, who had remained silent this whole time, finally let out a shaky breath of relief.

Hiruzen turned to the scarred man. "Ensure they remain here. Keep a close watch on them."

The man simply nodded.

With that, the Third Hokage turned and walked out of the cell, his expression unreadable.

The heavy iron door slammed shut behind him.

The Council Chamber was silent.

Twelve of the most powerful and influential figures in Konoha sat around a circular stone table, their expressions ranging from impassive to deeply troubled. The atmosphere was heavy—tense with anticipation.

At the head of the room, Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, stood with his hands folded behind his back. His face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes were sharp and unyielding as he gazed upon the gathered council members.

"We have confirmed it."

His voice was calm but carried the weight of absolute authority—enough to make even the most composed council members sit straighter in their seats.

"Orochimaru is in Konoha."

The words rang through the chamber like a death knell.

Danzo Shimura, seated at the opposite end of the table, narrowed his single visible eye. A flicker of interest passed through his expression, but nothing more.

"You are certain?" Homura Mitokado, one of the village elders, spoke first.

"Absolutely." Hiruzen’s tone left no room for doubt.

"Anko Mitarashi reported an encounter with him in the Forest of Death," Koharu Utatane, the other elder, said as she adjusted her glasses. "We received her report immediately after the second stage of the Chunin Exams, yet… are we now to believe her claims were true?"

Danzo scoffed quietly, closing his eye. "The woman is reckless and prone to emotion. We did not dismiss her entirely, but it was reasonable to assume that she had been mistaken."

Hiruzen’s gaze hardened.

"You were wrong to doubt her."

A silence followed.

"Our confirmation comes not just from Anko's report, but from sources much more… reliable," the Hokage continued. "Team Dosu—our prisoners—have confessed. They have confirmed that Orochimaru was sent to Konoha… and that he is operating under a reluctant alliance with the Akatsuki."

A sharp intake of breath was heard from the civilian side of the council.

"The Akatsuki?" Homura muttered in disbelief.

"A rogue organization filled with S-rank shinobi," Koharu said, her fingers tightening around the scroll in her hands. "And they are using Orochimaru?"

"No," Hiruzen corrected. "They are using each other." His voice grew colder. "Dosu stated that while there is an alliance between Orochimaru and the Akatsuki, it is tenuous at best. They will turn on each other the moment it benefits them."

Danzo’s fingers tapped once against the table, his expression unreadable. "This information is valuable," he admitted.

"It is more than valuable," Hiruzen stated. "It is a warning."

Silence stretched again as the implications settled in.

"If Orochimaru is truly within Konoha’s borders… then where is he?" One of the civilian council members, a merchant representative, asked cautiously.

The answer was obvious.

"He is still hidden within the Forest of Death," Hiruzen confirmed. "That much is clear. Not a single trace of him has been detected by ANBU, which means he has concealed himself well." His brows furrowed. "That also means one other thing."

The entire council leaned forward slightly.

"Team 7, Naruto Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura Haruno, and Harry Potter, must have encountered him directly during the second exam."

A murmur of concern passed through the council.

"You believe Orochimaru made contact with the Uchiha boy?" Koharu questioned.

"It is the most logical assumption."

Danzo exhaled slowly through his nose, his fingers still drumming against the table. "Did he mark him?"

The question sent a ripple of tension through the room.

Hiruzen’s expression remained unreadable, but his pause spoke volumes.

"We cannot say for certain."

A few of the civilian council members relaxed slightly.

"However," Hiruzen continued, his voice grave, "there is reason to believe that he did."

The tension snapped back into place.

"Sasuke Uchiha fought during the preliminary matches, and although his performance was nothing out of the ordinary for someone of his skill level, there was… something about his control. His efficiency."

"You are suggesting that he has the Cursed Seal of Heaven?" Homura asked.

"I am suggesting that it is highly possible," Hiruzen corrected. "But we cannot confirm it without examining him."

"Then we will need to call upon Kakashi Hatake," Koharu decided.

Hiruzen nodded. "Indeed. As his teacher, Kakashi is the one person they would confide in. He will know what happened to them in the Forest of Death. He is also the only one with the ability to see the seal if it exists."

Danzo’s fingers stilled.

"If Sasuke Uchiha has indeed been marked, then Orochimaru’s intentions are confirmed." His voice darkened. "He seeks to mold the boy into his next vessel."

Hiruzen closed his eyes for a brief moment.

"It was never a question."

A heavy silence followed.

Finally, after what felt like minutes, Hiruzen opened his eyes and straightened.

"I will summon Kakashi Hatake. The situation must be addressed immediately. If Sasuke Uchiha bears Orochimaru’s mark… then we must act before it is too late."

No one disagreed.

With that, the meeting was adjourned.

Kakashi stood before the gathered council, his single visible eye revealing nothing as he faced the Third Hokage, Danzo, Homura, and Koharu. The weight of the conversation to come already loomed over him, yet he remained calm. It was Hiruzen who finally spoke, voice measured but carrying an unmistakable edge of concern.

“Kakashi,” the Hokage began, hands clasped together atop the table before him, “I will not waste time with formalities. I assume you already know why we have summoned you.”

Kakashi gave a small nod. “You wish to confirm whether or not Sasuke Uchiha bears the Cursed Seal of Heaven.”

The three elder council members stiffened slightly at the direct confirmation. Hiruzen, however, merely inclined his head. “Does he?”

Kakashi hesitated, not because he wished to lie but because of what he was about to reveal. “Yes,” he admitted. “Sasuke received the mark during the second stage of the Chunin Exams.”

Danzo let out a faint, unimpressed breath through his nose. “So it is as we suspected.” His singular, bandaged eye seemed to gleam as he added, “And yet he displayed no signs of it during his match. That suggests one of two things: either he is hiding its effects exceptionally well, or something is actively suppressing it.”

Kakashi took a moment before responding. “Sasuke is aware of the danger the mark presents. He has been consciously restraining himself from using it, and I have been monitoring him closely.”

Homura adjusted his glasses, frowning deeply. “And yet, we cannot ignore the fact that if Orochimaru bestowed the seal upon him, then the man has already set his sights on taking Sasuke as a vessel. Even with restraint, the longer the mark remains, the stronger its influence will become.”

Kakashi exhaled softly. “I’m aware.”

Koharu leaned forward, tone sharp. “Then the obvious course of action is to remove it immediately. The Evil Releasing Method has been effective in the past—”

“That will not work,” Kakashi interrupted voice firm. “Not in Sasuke’s case.”

The room fell silent. Danzo’s fingers curled against his cane. “Explain,” he commanded.

Kakashi’s fingers twitched slightly, but he remained composed. “Sasuke’s chakra has already begun merging with the Cursed Seal.”

Shock flickered across their faces, though Danzo remained unreadable.

“That is... highly unusual,” Homura muttered. “It should take far longer for a shinobi to naturally acclimate to the seal’s influence. If what you’re saying is true, then Sasuke’s body is far more compatible with Orochimaru’s curse than we anticipated.”

Kakashi nodded grimly. “Which is why forcibly removing it now could cause severe backlash. The process would likely cause irreversible damage to his chakra pathways—or worse, his entire circulatory system.”

A heavy silence followed his words.

Hiruzen closed his eyes, deeply troubled. “Then we have no choice but to let it remain... at least for now.”

Koharu’s expression was tight with displeasure. “Then what of countermeasures? If the boy is destined to be Orochimaru’s pawn, we must take steps to ensure—”

“There is another matter,” Kakashi cut in, his tone darkening slightly. “Sasuke is not the only one who received the Cursed Seal.”

The elders turned to him sharply.

“What?”

Kakashi’s visible eye sharpened. “Sakura Haruno also bears the Cursed Seal of Heaven.”

The reaction was immediate—shock, disbelief, and a flicker of unease.

Koharu was the first to recover. “That is impossible.”

Homura frowned. “Why would Orochimaru waste his time marking a civilian-born kunoichi?”

“That is what I would like to know as well,” Kakashi admitted. “But the fact remains that she has it.”

Danzo narrowed his eye. “And how is she reacting to it?”

Kakashi’s lips pressed together in thought before he answered, “Differently from Sasuke.”

He allowed them a moment to process before continuing. “Sakura’s chakra is... consuming it.”

Homura blinked. “Clarify.”

Kakashi exhaled through his nose. “Instead of her chakra being influenced by the mark, it appears to be slowly assimilating the Cursed Seal’s power—draining it, in a way. The mark still exists, but its hold over her is weakening.”

The elders exchanged unreadable glances.

“That is—” Hiruzen hesitated, choosing his words carefully, “—not something I have heard of before.”

Kakashi inclined his head. “Neither have I.”

Danzo, for the first time, looked mildly intrigued. “If that is the case, then she could prove to be... useful.”

Kakashi’s eye darkened slightly, but he remained silent.

Hiruzen sighed heavily. “If her body is resisting the mark rather than succumbing to it, then perhaps she is not in immediate danger. Regardless, she will still need monitoring.”

Kakashi nodded. “That was my intention.”

After a long pause, Koharu finally asked, “And what of the other one? The foreigner. Harry Potter.”

Kakashi shook his head. “He does not have the Cursed Seal.”

The room was silent.

Danzo was the one to finally speak. “That is unexpected.”

“Very,” Homura murmured, brows furrowing. “Orochimaru had ample opportunity to mark him, yet he did not. Why?”

Koharu crossed her arms. “If Orochimaru did not give Harry Potter the Cursed Seal of Heaven, then he must have other plans for him.”

“That,” Hiruzen agreed, his gaze dark and unreadable, “is what concerns me the most.”

Kakashi’s voice was calm, but there was an underlying edge to it. “And I have a strong suspicion that whatever those plans are... they involve the Akatsuki.”

The council chamber grew unbearably still.

Danzo’s fingers tightened over his cane. Hiruzen’s eyes darkened. Koharu and Homura exchanged glances, the weight of the conversation heavy upon them.

There were far too many moving pieces on the board. And far too many questions that remained unanswered.

Kakashi remained composed as he finished his report, his visible eye unreadable as he addressed the council. “Sakura mentioned that Harry stopped Orochimaru,” he stated. “She wasn’t specific, but given the circumstances, it’s highly probable that Harry unlocked his Kekkei Genkai during their encounter. For Orochimaru to withdraw, Harry must have shown something that made even him wary.”

Danzo’s eyes narrowed sharply, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair. “A Kekkei Genkai, you say?” His voice held an edge of intrigue. “If he truly possesses a bloodline limit strong enough to repel Orochimaru, then it is imperative that he be examined. His abilities must be understood, analyzed, and—”

“That will not be happening.”

Danzo’s fingers stilled as Hiruzen’s voice cut through the chamber, calm but unwavering. The Third Hokage’s aged features remained neutral, but his sharp eyes left no room for debate. “Harry is a shinobi of Konoha. Whatever ability he possesses, he will reveal in his own time.”

Danzo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Hokage-sama, we cannot afford to be ignorant of such things. If this boy truly wields a Kekkei Genkai of unknown origin, then we must determine its nature. It could be a new dōjutsu, a lost art, or something far more dangerous.”

“We are not in the habit of forcing our shinobi into tests like lab specimens, Danzo,” Hiruzen said firmly. “Harry Potter is under my protection, as are all the genin who fought in this exam. His abilities are his own, and if he chooses not to disclose them, that is his prerogative.” His gaze darkened. “I will not hear of this again.”

Danzo’s visible eye remained unreadable, but the tension in his posture was evident. He did not challenge Hiruzen further, but the message was clear—he would not let this go so easily.

Turning back to Kakashi, Hiruzen continued. “For now, continue observing Harry. If anything... unusual occurs, report back to me.” His gaze flickered with a subtle warning, as if to say, not to Danzo. “The same goes for Sasuke and Sakura. They may seem stable for now, but we cannot afford complacency with the Cursed Seal of Heaven. Orochimaru’s influence does not fade so easily.”

Kakashi nodded. “Understood, Lord Hokage.”

Koharu, who had remained silent until now, adjusted her robes and frowned. “And what of Orochimaru himself? We have confirmation that he is in Konoha, yet none of our forces have been able to locate him. It is troubling, to say the least.”

Hiruzen sighed, his expression grim. “The Anbu are still searching, but he has hidden himself well. If Team 7 encountered him in the Forest of Death, then it is likely that he has established some form of base there. But even with our best trackers, there has been no sign of him.”

Homura’s voice was grave. “And there won’t be unless he wants us to find him.”

Silence filled the chamber at that truth.

After a long pause, Hiruzen exhaled slowly and leaned back in his chair. “For now, we will proceed with caution. The Chūnin Exam finals are approaching, and we cannot afford to cause panic by revealing Orochimaru’s presence. Our shinobi will prepare, our village will remain strong, and we will deal with what comes when the time is right.” His gaze hardened. “This meeting is adjourned.”

Kakashi gave a short bow before vanishing in a swirl of leaves, leaving the elders behind.

Danzo’s fingers curled into a fist.

Hiruzen had made his stance clear.

But this was not over.

Harry and Naruto strolled down the hospital hallway, the scent of disinfectant lingering in the air as they balanced bowls of steaming ramen in their hands. In addition to the ramen, they carried a few extra gifts—a small potted plant Naruto had insisted on getting because “it'll make the room less depressing” and a book on famous shinobi battles that Harry figured Lee would enjoy.

As they reached Rock Lee’s hospital room, Naruto didn’t even bother knocking. He pushed the door open with his foot, grinning. “Oi, Bushy Brows! We brought you the best meal ever!”

Lee, lying in bed with his arms wrapped in bandages, perked up immediately. “Naruto! Harry!” His usual enthusiasm, though slightly dampened by his injuries, still shone through. “Ah! And you brought ramen! You have my eternal gratitude!” He struggled to sit up, wincing slightly but beaming nonetheless.

Harry placed the gifts on the small table beside the bed while Naruto handed over the ramen. “How are you holding up?” Harry asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Lee nodded, determined. “I will recover! This is merely another trial on my path to becoming a splendid shinobi. The flames of my youth will never be extinguished!” He clenched his fist, though it trembled slightly from the effort. “I appreciate the gifts. My rival, Naruto, and my ally, Harry, are truly thoughtful friends!”

Naruto laughed. “Yeah, yeah, just make sure you don’t go all crazy with training again once you get out of here. You scared us, y’know.”

Lee hesitated for a moment but gave a small, appreciative nod. “I will do my best to be cautious. But I cannot afford to fall behind! My teammates have already visited, but they had to return to training. Even Neji was in a hurry to prepare for the next stage.”

Harry crossed his arms. “Understandable, but you should focus on getting better first. Training can wait.”

Before Lee could respond, the air in the room shifted. A sudden, heavy presence filled the space, making the hair on the back of Harry’s neck stand on end. The faint sound of sand brushing against the floor sent a chill down his spine.

Both he and Naruto turned sharply toward the door.

Standing in the doorway, half-shrouded in shadow, was Gaara of the Sand. His pale, aquamarine eyes locked onto Lee with an unsettling intensity, devoid of emotion. The gourd on his back shifted slightly, sand whispering against the fabric of his clothing.

Naruto tensed, his usual easygoing demeanor vanishing in an instant. “Oi! What the hell are you doing here?” He stepped in front of Lee protectively, shoulders squared.

Harry followed suit, his stance wary but composed, his green eyes narrowing. He had only seen Gaara fight during the preliminaries, but that was enough to tell him that the redhead was dangerous—far more dangerous than he let on. And judging by the sheer, oppressive weight of his presence alone, he wasn’t here for a friendly visit.

Lee, despite his injuries, gritted his teeth and sat up a little straighter. “Gaara…?” His voice was uncertain.

Gaara didn’t respond immediately. He took a slow step into the room, the sand from his gourd shifting ever so slightly, as if alive. His gaze never left Lee.

“I came to see for myself,” he finally spoke, his voice quiet but carrying a dangerous edge, “if you were still worth killing.”

The room fell into complete silence.

Naruto’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, anger flashing in his blue eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re seriously coming in here, into a hospital, just to say that?!”

Harry didn’t say anything at first, but his body remained taut, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap. He had read Gaara’s movements before—during his match against Lee. Gaara was unpredictable, but one thing was certain: if he wanted to attack, he wouldn’t hesitate.

Lee, despite being injured, didn’t cower. His dark eyes met Gaara’s unflinchingly. “I do not understand… but if you have come here to fight, I am afraid I cannot grant you that battle.”

Gaara tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Then you are weak.”

Lee flinched, but Naruto snapped, “Screw you! He fought with everything he had against you! If anyone here’s weak, it’s the guy who needs a sand shield to do all the fighting for him, dattebayo!”

Gaara’s gaze flickered toward Naruto. For a moment, something unidentifiable passed through his cold, calculating eyes—an emotion too fleeting to grasp.

Harry decided to act before the situation could escalate further. He stepped forward, just slightly, enough to draw Gaara’s focus back to him. His voice was even, but firm. “Why are you really here?”

Gaara studied him now, and for a brief moment, Harry felt something strange coming from the red-haired boy. A flicker of interest. But it was gone as quickly as it had come.

Gaara’s expression remained unreadable, and after a tense silence, he finally took a step back. “I was simply curious.” He turned, walking toward the door, but paused. “We will meet again… during the final stage of the Chunin Exams.”

With that, he left, the oppressive weight in the room lifting ever so slightly.

Naruto scowled, running a hand through his hair. “That guy seriously pisses me off.”

Lee exhaled slowly. “He is… difficult to understand.”

Harry let out a quiet breath. “We’ll be ready for him next time.”

None of them said it out loud, but one thing was certain.

Gaara was dangerous. And they had a feeling they had only just scratched the surface of what he was truly capable of.