A New Path

The tension in the air was thick as Naruto and Neji stood across from each other in the center of the arena, their eyes locked in an intense stare-down. The audience around them murmured in excitement—this was a battle between two of the strongest contestants in the final matches. Neji’s pale lavender eyes were sharp, unreadable, and calculating, while Naruto’s blue eyes burned with a mix of determination and strategy.

Neji had seen Naruto fight before—brutal, relentless, unorthodox. He didn’t underestimate him, not anymore. He had learned from Hinata’s defiance in their match, from their quiet training sessions in the past few days. He had abandoned his rigid beliefs in fate, and now, he saw Naruto as an opponent worth taking seriously.

For Naruto, this was different. He had no real experience fighting a Hyuga, and he really didn’t want to get hit by the Gentle Fist. The way Neji had dismantled Hinata during the preliminaries… yeah, Naruto wasn’t going to let that happen to him. Hand-to-hand combat was out of the question. He needed a different approach.

"Begin!"

The moment Genma’s senbon twitched, Naruto was already forming the cross seal for his signature jutsu.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

A dozen Narutos filled the arena, swarming around Neji like an unpredictable storm. They dashed forward from different angles, a chaotic flurry of motion designed to overwhelm and disorient.

Neji’s Byakugan flared. Pointless. He exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing as he spun on his heel.

"Eight Trigrams: Palm Rotation!"

A burst of chakra spun around him like a whirlwind, obliterating the clones in an instant. Naruto had expected that. The moment the clones vanished in puffs of smoke, he leaped back, gripping his Hiraishin Kunai tightly. His mind was racing, formulating his next move.

The thing about Hyuga fighting styles? It was close-range. Deadly, yes, but Neji needed to touch him for it to work. That was Naruto’s biggest advantage. He had to keep his distance, create gaps, and use speed over power.

Neji moved—fast. Too fast. He closed the distance between them, his hand already chambered for a strike.

Naruto ducked. A fraction of a second late, and Neji’s fingers would have shut down his chakra point. The hairs on his arms stood on end.

"You're not half-bad," Neji remarked, his tone neither mocking nor arrogant. Just… acknowledging.

"Yeah?" Naruto grinned. "I’m just getting started!"

Naruto threw his Hiraishin Kunai at Neji, who instinctively dodged. The kunai clattered to the ground behind the Hyuga. Naruto darted forward, feinting a punch before twisting at the last second to kick Neji’s feet out from under him.

Neji jumped, flipping midair—

"Now."

The moment Neji landed, an explosive tag on the kunai detonated, sending a sudden blast of pressurized water straight into Neji’s face. Boom! Water sprayed everywhere, drenching Neji’s robes and briefly obstructing his vision.

A shadow loomed above.

Naruto came down like a meteor—twisting midair, his heel crashing into Neji’s shoulder with brutal force. The Hyuga stumbled back, feet skidding against the dirt.

Neji barely had time to breathe before Naruto was already moving again, zigzagging around him with his kunai flashing. He wasn’t attacking head-on—he was darting in and out, throwing off Neji’s ability to properly track his movements.

Neji exhaled.

"Enough."

Then, Naruto’s world turned sideways.

He barely saw Neji move, but suddenly, a devastating palm strike slammed into his stomach.

"!!"

A shockwave of raw chakra exploded inside him. Naruto choked, his feet lifting slightly off the ground from the sheer force before his body was launched backward, skidding across the arena floor.

Naruto gasped, curling inward as a burning sensation rippled through his chakra network. It wasn’t like the Gentle Fist strikes he had seen before. This—this was something different.

"What… the hell…?" he coughed, forcing himself to stand.

Neji stood tall, shifting into a new stance. A smaller, more controlled form of the Gentle Fist. There was no wasted movement, no decorative flourishes. Each motion was precise, deadly. It wasn’t the version of the Gentle Fist used for political displays or Hyuga traditions.

It was the original—the true Gentle Fist.

The one meant for war.

"I see," Naruto muttered, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "You're not using the same style you did against Hinata."

Neji nodded once, stance steady. "No."

"This is what she taught you, huh?"

A brief pause. Then, Neji gave the smallest of smirks. "Yes."

Naruto cracked his knuckles, his grin slowly returning. His stomach still hurt, but—damn, if this wasn’t getting fun.

"Alright then," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Let’s go again."

And with that, Naruto charged.

The tension in the arena was thick, and heavy with the weight of every exchanged blow between Naruto and Neji. Up in the stands, the crowd murmured amongst themselves, whispering about the sheer difference between this fight and any other Hyuga battle they had seen before.

Team 7 had been on the edge of their seats from the moment the match began.

Sasuke’s dark eyes narrowed as he observed Neji’s movements carefully. "Naruto’s at a disadvantage," he muttered, arms crossed, brows furrowed in deep thought.

Sakura bit her lip, gripping the railing tightly. "That punch—it wasn’t like the Gentle Fist we saw in the preliminaries. Neji didn’t just block Naruto’s chakra flow, that was…" she trailed off, eyes flickering toward Harry.

Harry, eyes sharp and focused, had noticed it too. "He’s disrupting Naruto’s chakra network with direct force, not just shutting it down like the usual Gentle Fist does." His grip on the hilt of his katana tightened slightly. "That style isn’t in any of the textbooks we read at the Academy."

Sasuke let out a slow breath. "Whatever it is… Naruto better figure something out. Fast."

Team 8 wasn’t any less shocked.

Kiba gave a low whistle, crossing his arms as he leaned back. "Damn… so this is what you and Neji were doing during training, huh?" He shot a glance toward Hinata, who simply nodded, a soft smile on her lips.

Shino adjusted his glasses, his usually unreadable expression tilting ever so slightly toward intrigue. "This is far more dangerous than the standard Hyuga techniques. There is no wasted motion, no opportunity to counter—only efficiency."

Kiba snorted. "Yeah, well, it looks like it hurts like hell, too."

Hinata’s gaze remained locked on the match below, her hands clasped together tightly. "It’s… what we were meant to use," she admitted quietly. "What the Hyuga once were."

Team 10 wasn’t far off in their assessments.

Ino’s brow furrowed as she leaned in, eyes flicking between Naruto and Neji. "Okay, what the hell was that punch? I’ve seen the Gentle Fist in action before, but that looked way worse than normal!"

Choji, in the middle of munching on a bag of chips, nodded in agreement. "Yeah… Neji’s strikes were always strong, but that one actually sent Naruto flying. I thought the Hyuga fought by shutting down chakra points, not sending people across the battlefield."

Shikamaru exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples. "It’s different. Normally, the Gentle Fist disrupts chakra flow through precision strikes to shut down the opponent’s abilities. What Neji’s doing now… it’s brute forcing his way into Naruto’s tenketsu, throwing his entire chakra network into disarray. The effect is worse because it doesn’t just cut off chakra—it messes it up completely. Naruto’s going to have a harder time controlling his chakra the more times he gets hit."

Ino made a face. "Okay, so… what, Neji’s using a banned technique or something?"

Shikamaru sighed. "Something like that."

Among the Clan Heads, reactions were mixed—but all were watching intently.

Hiashi Hyuga’s normally stoic face betrayed a flicker of something unreadable—perhaps surprise, perhaps contemplation. His arms were crossed as he huffed through his nose, his gaze unwavering as he watched Neji’s movements.

He recognized this.

This was the true Gentle Fist.

The one that had been removed from the Hyuga’s teachings generations ago.

A long, slow breath left him as he tilted his head slightly. So this is what Neji and Hinata have been working on. It was unexpected—but not entirely unwelcome.

Beside him, Hayato Namikaze had a small, almost amused smirk on his face. "Heh," he murmured, arms resting lazily on the railing. "Doesn’t surprise me much. Back in my day, the Hyuga fought like this. I remember it well."

The other clan heads turned toward him in slight surprise.

"It was a long time ago, though," Hayato continued, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with nostalgia. "Before your branch families, before all the… rules. The Hyuga back then didn’t fight for display—they fought to end battles before they even began. And they were good at it."

Hiashi remained silent but gave a single, subtle nod.

This wasn’t something that should have returned. But yet… here it was.

The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, inhaled deeply, stroking his beard as his old, wise eyes studied the fight below.

"So," he mused quietly to himself, "that style still exists…"

It had been decades since he had last seen a Hyuga fight like this. He had nearly forgotten what it looked like.

But now, as Neji stood poised and unwavering, his movements sharp and deliberate, Hiruzen couldn’t help but feel the weight of history pressing against the moment.

And for the first time in many years… he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

Naruto gritted his teeth as he ducked under another of Neji’s strikes, feeling the sharp sting of chakra scraping along his skin. Even without a direct hit, the force of Neji’s movements was enough to leave a numbing sensation in the air.

Damn it, I can’t let him touch me too many times.

Neji’s style wasn’t like Hinata’s. It wasn’t even like what Naruto had seen in the preliminaries. This was something else entirely—something sharper, faster, and far deadlier. There was no wasted movement, no flashy swings, or unnecessary gestures. Every step Neji took was calculated, each strike designed to end the fight in the most efficient way possible.

It was a style meant to end opponents—not just disable them.

But Naruto wasn’t going to let himself be ended that easily.

With a sharp movement, he launched himself backward, flipping through the air and hurling three of his Hiraishin kunai toward Neji. The Hyuga prodigy barely spared them a glance, sidestepping the blades as he moved forward, closing the distance once again.

Naruto clicked his tongue. I was hoping that’d slow him down, but he’s not even hesitating.

“Running away?” Neji asked, voice cool and even. “You understand now, don’t you? No matter what you try—”

“Shadow Clone Jutsu!”

A sudden burst of smoke filled the battlefield, and in an instant, Naruto’s clones swarmed forward, filling the air with movement. They attacked in waves—some throwing kunai, others rushing in to attack directly, while a few circled to create an opening.

Neji narrowed his eyes, shifting his stance slightly.

He’s still trying to keep his distance, Neji thought. But it won’t work.

His fingers blurred through the air as he struck, the traditional Gentle Fist turned into something even more vicious in his hands. Clones popped like balloons as he moved through them, his strikes hitting faster than Naruto’s clones could react. His precise, chakra-infused attacks tore through the distractions, but as Neji’s Byakugan caught a glimpse of movement above, his instincts flared.

Naruto dove down from the air, kunai raised.

Neji twisted sharply, his arm snapping out like a viper.

BAM!

Naruto choked as Neji’s palm smashed into his stomach, and his vision momentarily blurred. The hit didn’t just hurt—it sent a violent, pulsating shock through his entire body, disrupting his chakra flow like a wild, chaotic current.

It was completely different from the usual Gentle Fist.

Naruto staggered back, but Neji was already moving again. Another strike clipped Naruto’s ribs, and another slammed into his shoulder, forcing his limbs to feel sluggish like they weren’t responding fast enough.

Up in the stands, Hinata’s expression tensed.

“This is…” she murmured.

Kiba whistled. “Yeah, this is brutal.”

Shino adjusted his glasses. “He isn’t simply shutting down Naruto’s chakra points. He’s disrupting them entirely.”

Neji’s foot slid back, and his next strike was aimed for Naruto’s chest—a finishing blow.

But then—

POOF!

The Naruto he struck vanished, a lone kunai clattering against the ground.

Neji’s eyes widened slightly, but before he could react, a blur of motion came from above.

WHAM!

A spinning heel crashed into the side of Neji’s head, sending him reeling to the side. The sheer force behind it sent a shockwave of air through the stadium, and for the first time in the fight, Neji’s balance faltered.

Naruto landed with a thud, panting, but grinning.

"Heh… You’re not the only one who can be unpredictable, Neji."

The crowd roared, the tension in the air reaching a new peak.

The fight was far from over.

Naruto’s breath came fast and heavy, but his grin widened. If Neji was going to fight brutally, then so would he. No more holding back, no more playing it safe—this was a battle, and if he was going to win, he had to go all in.

Neji shook off the dizziness from the spinning kick, his sharp Byakugan eyes narrowing. He didn’t expect Naruto to have such raw, vicious force behind his strikes. The way he fought wasn’t refined like a trained shinobi—no, this was something else. It was wild, unpredictable, and suffocating. Naruto wasn’t following a practiced form; he was attacking.

Relentless. Undeterred. Dangerous.

Neji barely had time to block before Naruto lunged at him again.

CRACK!

A powerful roundhouse came for his ribs—Neji twisted away, but Naruto was already moving, seamlessly transitioning into a knee strike aimed for his gut. Neji barely brought his forearm down in time to block, but the force still sent him skidding backward.

Then, before Neji could regain his footing—

Shadow Clone Jutsu!

Smoke exploded around them.

Dozens of Narutos rushed at Neji from every direction. There was no pattern to their attack, no coordination—just raw, brutal onslaught. Kunai slashed, fists swung, and feet lashed out in a never-ending flurry of violence.

Neji exhaled sharply. His hands blurred.

Gentle Fist!

Strikes faster than the eye could follow tore through the clones, dissipating them in bursts of chakra smoke. He wove through them, his deadly precision finding his real opponent—

But Naruto wasn’t there.

A sudden force slammed into Neji’s back, sending him staggering forward. Another impact cracked against his ribs. Then another. And another.

Naruto wasn’t just fighting.

He was hunting.

He didn't stop. He didn’t give Neji the space to recover. There was no hesitation—his blows were like a storm, rolling and crashing with no reprieve.

The crowd noticed.

Among the clan heads, whispers stirred.

Hayato Namikaze, dressed in his regal robes and holding his cane, sighed through his nose. “Just like his mother.”

A few heads turned toward him, intrigued.

“Kushina?” Inoichi Yamanaka asked.

“She fought the exact same way,” Hayato said. His voice carried a hint of amusement, though there was something far away in his gaze. “They buried her accomplishments in history, but she was the beast of her time. People feared her as much as they did Minato, if not more.”

Hiashi Hyuga, who had been silently observing, let out a quiet huff of breath, his arms crossed. “An Uzumaki through and through.”

Shikaku Nara raised a brow, watching the match with interest. “Troublesome,” he muttered, “but damn if it isn’t effective.”

Elsewhere, the Genin spectators were reacting… differently.

Team 7 watched the match without much surprise. If anything, they seemed… apathetic about Naruto’s viciousness.

“That tracks,” Sakura said flatly.

“He’s always like this,” Sasuke muttered, arms crossed.

Harry simply tilted his head, unfazed. “We all fight like that.”

That statement earned them a collection of judgmental stares from their peers.

Kiba’s eyebrow twitched. “What the hell kind of training do you guys do?”

Shino adjusted his glasses, his tone unreadable. “It’s… highly unorthodox.”

Hinata, though, only smiled softly. She isn’t that surprised. 

Ino cringed. “That’s just… violent.”

Choji slowly chewed on his chips. “Yeah. Brutal.”

Shikamaru sighed, rubbing his temples. “He fights like he’s in an actual war.”

Tenten leaned against the railing, watching with narrowed eyes. “That’s not Academy-style brawling.”

Rock Lee, however, grinned. “Naruto-kun’s youth is burning brightly!”

Meanwhile, on the higher balconies where the jounin and political figures sat, Kakashi was casually observing.

A jounin from another village turned to him, frowning. “What exactly do you train these kids in?”

Kakashi just shrugged, eyes still fixed on the match. “Survival.”

The response did not reassure them.

Among the political figures, Danzo watched without much reaction. When Naruto landed another ruthless strike against Neji, the old warhawk only grunted.

“Not surprising,” he muttered. “All Uzumaki fought like this.” His one visible eye darkened slightly. “I’ve fought one before.”

Homura glanced at him. “And?”

Danzo’s expression was unreadable. “…I was left terribly beaten up.”

Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, was silent. He wasn’t surprised either. The way Naruto fought was reminiscent of an era long past—an era when Uzumaki warriors stormed battlefields, their raw power shaping the very tides of war.

Neji panted slightly, sweat beading at his temple.

He was beginning to understand why Naruto was dangerous.

It wasn’t just his unpredictability. It wasn’t just his brute strength. It was the fact that Naruto had no reservations. He wasn’t fighting with honor. He wasn’t fighting for sport.

Naruto was fighting to win.

And he was damn good at it.

Neji’s grip tightened. He needed to end this now.

His foot shifted, chakra surging through his tenketsu.

Naruto, seeing the movement, grinned through his panting. “Finally getting serious, huh?”

The next exchange would decide everything.

The tension between them thickened like a coiling storm. Neither spoke. Neither moved. Their bodies ached, and their breaths were ragged, but neither was willing to surrender.

Naruto shifted his weight onto his back foot, fingers flexing as he pulled at the last dregs of his chakra. His limbs were leaden, exhaustion clawing at his bones, but he refused to fall first.

Neji squared his shoulders, his Byakugan eyes narrowing as he assessed the battlefield. The damage was severe—cracks in the stone, shattered earth, kunai embedded in the arena floor—but none of that mattered.

It was now or never.

Both fighters lunged forward.

Their movements were fueled by sheer willpower, their bodies battered but determined.

Naruto grits his teeth, reaching deep inside—grasping at any last drop of chakra that would answer him. And something did.

A pulse of energy, molten and untamed, surged through his veins.

It was different.

It was wild.

It burned.

His mind barely registered it before his body reacted—his fist igniting with a red, flickering aura. It felt unnatural yet familiar, something deeply rooted in his being. He didn’t question it. He didn’t have time to.

Across from him, Neji did the same, his chakra pulsing visibly through his tenketsu, refined and deadly.

BOOM!

Fists collided.

The force of the impact rippled outward, shaking the very foundation of the arena. A massive shockwave exploded from the collision, sending dust and debris flying. The very air cracked under the pressure, chakra clashing in a violent tempest.

The ground beneath them splintered.

Stone crumbled.

For a brief, frozen moment, neither moved.

Then—

Neji’s body soared backward like a broken arrow.

His form crashed through solid stone, piercing the arena wall and embedding into it with a deafening boom. A body-sized hole remained where he had impacted, debris tumbling down like broken puzzle pieces.

The entire world seemed to hold its breath.

The dust settled.

And at the center of the battlefield—

Naruto stood.

His body trembled, his legs barely supporting his weight. Blood dripped from his temple, his knuckles bruised and swollen. His breaths came in heaving gasps, his chest rising and falling with the weight of exertion.

But he was still standing.

Neji was not.

A brief silence followed—only the faint crackle of disrupted chakra lingering in the air.

Then, from somewhere in the distance, a voice rang out:

"Winner: Naruto Uzumaki!"

The match was over.

The medics rushed forward, moving past Naruto to reach Neji’s unconscious form. The once-proud Hyuga prodigy remained motionless, slumped in the rubble of the wall that had given way beneath the sheer force of Naruto’s final blow.

Naruto, still standing on shaky legs, exhaled heavily. His fingers twitched as the last remnants of that burning red chakra faded, retreating into the depths of his being.

He had won.

But he had no idea what had just happened.

Up in the political stands, the tension was palpable.

Danzo's single visible eye narrowed. His lips curled downward, deep in contemplation as he processed what he had just witnessed. That chakra. It had been brief, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but to him, to those who knew—it had been unmistakable.

The red-tinged, violent power that had flickered around Naruto Uzumaki’s fist just before his final strike. It had only been for a moment, but a moment was all he needed.

"So, the beast's chakra surges through him freely…"

Danzo clasped his hands atop his cane, his fingers curling slightly against the worn wood. His thoughts churned. A jinchūriki should not be able to access their tailed beast’s chakra so instinctively, not without deliberate training or an outside trigger. Yet Naruto had done so naturally as if his body had simply accepted it—as if it were his own.

His gaze flickered toward Hiruzen.

Hiruzen's sealing skills... have they weakened with age? Or was there something about the Fourth’s seal that he failed to mention?

The Third Hokage, seated a few rows ahead, had a similar look of unease. His wrinkled hands were steepled beneath his chin, eyes trained on the battlefield where Naruto still stood, panting, victorious.

He was no fool. He had seen it as well.

That burst of chakra—wild, burning, and entirely unlike Naruto’s usual energy. His years of experience screamed at him, warning him of what it meant.

His seal… had it been altered? Had it weakened?

"Impossible," he wanted to believe, but doubt was now gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.

He would need to check.

After the exams, he would reexamine the seal personally.

Beside him, Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado, his longtime advisors, exchanged wary glances. Koharu adjusted her robes, her sharp eyes narrowing.

“That was not normal.”

Homura hummed in agreement, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “A jinchūriki of his level should not have been able to access the beast’s chakra so effortlessly.” His eyes flickered toward Hiruzen. “Unless the seal has weakened.”

Danzo exhaled sharply through his nose. “Or perhaps, Naruto’s bond with the beast is… different.”

The words carried weight.

Jinchūriki were not meant to have bonds with their beasts. They were containers, nothing more. To wield such power so naturally suggested a level of synchronization that should not exist.

And yet, Naruto had just proved otherwise.

Danzo’s grip tightened on his cane.

This could be dangerous.

Too dangerous.

If Naruto had already begun drawing upon the Nine-Tails' chakra, even unconsciously—what did that mean for the future? Would he wield the beast’s power as a weapon? Or worse… would he lose control and become the beast itself?

Danzo was not willing to take that risk.

"We must monitor him more closely," Koharu murmured, voice low.

Homura nodded in agreement. "The seal should be examined immediately after the exams."

Hiruzen inhaled deeply, nodding. "I will see to it personally." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a seriousness that left no room for argument.

Yet Danzo was not convinced.

Perhaps it is time I take matters into my own hands…

Elsewhere in the political stands, Orochimaru—disguised beneath the Kazekage’s robes and hat—allowed the faintest of smirks to curl at his lips.

Oh my… how very fascinating.

He had noticed it as well.

Naruto’s final strike was the moment his chakra flared with something far more potent than mere stamina or elemental control. Orochimaru had felt that presence before—the seething, immeasurable hatred of the Nine-Tails. But unlike past jinchūriki, this boy had wielded it, even if just for an instant.

Not fully. Not perfectly. But it had been there.

And the sheer force of that last attack? The way it had sent the Hyuga boy through a wall? That had not been mere human strength. That had been something far more monstrous.

Orochimaru chuckled silently to himself.

So, the boy was progressing. How delightful.

This would make things all the more interesting.

And more importantly… It gave him new ideas.