The final match of the Academy Trials began beneath a crimson dusk. Dust hung over the training field, thick as breath. Two boys stood at the center — one with a blade, one with a smile that pretended he wasn't terrified.
Hatake Hoshino. The clan's golden prodigy, already whispered about by jonin who should've known better.
Amamiya Shinsuke. The clan's loudest disappointment, "the crane's tail" — until he somehow clawed his way here.
They faced each other in silence. For Hoshino, this fight was about maintaining the name of genius. For Shinsuke, it was about proving that even the bottom of the flock could learn to fly.
"Match start!"
The Amamiya jōnin serving as referee couldn't hide a faint grin. Their clan's so-called weakest brat had made it to the finals. Even cynics love a good upset.
"Be careful, Shinsuke," Hoshino said quietly.
The words had barely left his mouth when lightning crackled through the air.
Zing—!
In the blink of an eye, Hoshino blurred forward, his short sword flashing like a white fang.
"So fast—!"
Shinsuke stumbled back, twisting just in time. The blade grazed his back, slicing cloth and skin alike. Blood sprayed, warm and sharp.
He gritted his teeth. "Guess we're skipping the warm-up."
"Shadow Clone Technique!"
Three copies of him burst into being with sharp pops of smoke. They charged from three directions, while Shinsuke himself leapt back, buying precious seconds to breathe.
Hoshino met the charge head-on. His movements were fluid, efficient, almost artistic. One slash, two steps, three bodies gone.
"Cut through them like paper…" someone muttered from the stands.
"He's what—six? Seven? The Hatake clan really does breed monsters."
Shinsuke didn't hear them. His clones burst, their memories flooding back — the angles, the timing, the reach of that sword. He exhaled, forming new seals.
More clones appeared, spreading out like ripples across the field. They launched shuriken, used minor wind jutsu, kicked up dust. The arena became chaos incarnate — smoke, sparks, and shouting.
For the first time, Hoshino's expression tightened.
"Tch." He slashed through another wave of clones, eyes tracking chakra signatures like a hawk. "Cheap tricks won't save you."
"Not trying to save myself," Shinsuke muttered, somewhere in the smoke. "Just buying time."
The smoke cleared — revealing a sea of clones. Dozens. No, hundreds.
Even the spectators went silent.
"…What the hell?"
Hoshino's blade trembled, tiny sparks dancing across the steel. Chakra crackled through his body like caged thunder.
Lightning Release — his specialty.
"Then I'll stop holding back."
Blue-white light surged around him, arcs snapping through the dirt. His chakra flared wild and dangerous.
When he moved, it was like being struck by a storm.
The first line of clones vanished in smoke. The second disintegrated before they could blink. Each slash left burn marks scorched into the ground.
And in seconds, the clone army was gone.
Hoshino exhaled, body humming from the strain. His gaze locked onto the only figure still standing.
"Found you."
He dashed forward—
BOOM!
The ground exploded under his feet. A figure shot upward from below, dragging two more clones with him. They grabbed Hoshino's arms before he could react.
"Got you!"
Shinsuke's voice was raw and fierce. Chakra spiraled into his palm — blue, bright, alive. The air screamed as energy condensed into a spinning sphere.
"Rasengan!"
Hoshino froze, eyes widening. The roar of the jutsu filled his ears, drowning out thought. His arms were pinned, escape impossible. The Rasengan's glow reflected in his pupils as it came closer and closer—
Then stopped.
The chakra sphere dissipated into harmless mist.
When the smoke cleared, Shinsuke was grinning.
"Hah! You actually flinched!"
For a heartbeat, the whole arena stared. Then, slowly, realization dawned.
He'd bluffed.
Hoshino's face turned crimson — from relief, rage, and maybe a touch of respect. He jerked his arms free, sending the clones flying, and charged at Shinsuke again.
But before he could reach him—
"Hatake Hoshino has conceded!" the referee shouted.
Gasps erupted from every side.
Hoshino halted mid-step, sheathing his blade. "If that Rasengan had hit," he said quietly, "I'd be dead. You won, Shinsuke. Fair and square."
The referee's voice boomed across the field. "Winner — Amamiya Shinsuke!"
For a moment, everything was still. Then the Amamiya clan section exploded in cheers.
Shinsuke's eyes went wide. He didn't move — just stood there, staring up at the crowd as if trying to convince himself this was real.
Raizen watched from the platform above, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Unbelievable," he murmured. "The crane's tail finally bit the sky."
Then his tone softened, just barely.
"You really do deserve to be the protagonist, Shinsuke."