The time came for Kushina's long-awaited debut in the mock combat rounds, reserved for those who struggled with control but possessed great power. The instructor placed her against a competent, defensively-minded commoner.
Kushina was a disaster of raw power. She had immense chakra, but her seals were sloppy, her footwork was heavy, and her concentration was constantly breaking. Makima had stopped manipulating her environment, but three months of Makima's psychological undermining had taken a severe toll on her natural confidence.
The opponent tried to immobilize Kushina with a simple Hōshi no Jutsu (Restraining Jutsu). This was a critical mistake.
The moment the restricting threads touched her, Kushina's latent Uzumaki power—the very strength Makima had sought to control—erupted. She didn't use a formal counter-jutsu; she used pure, furious chakra pressure. A visible, bubbling red aura pulsed outward, instantly snapping the threads and flattening the grass around her.
"I won't be held down!" Kushina roared, tears of frustration in her eyes.
She charged, moving purely on instinct and physical force. Her Taijutsu was a chaotic blur of fists and kicks—unpredictable, but imbued with terrifying raw power. The opponent, stunned by the sheer, unbridled force of the Uzumaki explosion, was overwhelmed and knocked out of the arena.
Kushina stood panting, shaking with residual chakra and fury, the raw image of unmanaged power.
Makima, sitting calmly in her waiting area, observed the scene.
"She is beautiful when she is angry," Makima thought. "A perfect, uncontrolled weapon. I must ensure that chaotic output is only pointed where I want it to go."
Makima also noted Minato's reaction. He wasn't scared; he looked fascinated, his mind already calculating the amount of chakra needed for that feat and how to channel it efficiently.
Kushina, despite the ugly win, looked dejected. She had won through brute force, not technique.
Then came the announcement of the Finalists. The tournament bracket had placed Makima against Minato in the final round.
"It's the final!" the instructor bellowed. "The Utatane Heiress, Makima, versus the top technical prodigy, Minato Namikaze!"
The class erupted immediately, but the cheering was heavily skewed. A wave of voices, led by the chivalrous boys and the admiring commoners Makima had cultivated (like Torune and Hana), screamed their support for the crimson-haired heiress.
"Go Makima-chan! You deserve to win!"
"Don't lose, Makima-san! Show them the class talent!"
"The gentle heart will prevail! Win for the village, Makima!"
Minato received only sparse support. A single, small cluster of students cheered weakly, mainly from his minor clan branch. The only loud, clear voice was Kushina's.
Kushina jumped up, her crimson eyes wide with conflict. She saw the vast crowd cheering for her "sister," the anchor of order, but her gaze fell upon Minato, standing alone with his courteous dignity.
She couldn't choose, but she had to yell. She felt genuine loyalty and admiration for both of them, putting her in a delightful, painful dilemma.
"Go Makima-chan! Show him the power of the red hair!" she cheered, her voice cracking with loyalty.
Then, immediately, she spun to face Minato, yelling loud enough to drown out the others. "And Minato! You better not hold back! You know all my moves, so you can't lose to Makima... unless she's too good! Just... win!"
Makima and Minato met each other's eyes across the arena. Minato gave a courteous, respectful nod, seemingly unfazed by the lack of support. Makima offered a wide, hungry smile—her control over the crowd was perfect, and now she had the perfect rival to challenge it.