Jogendra's POV:
The arena's energy didn't fade—it sharpened, a blade honed by each match, cutting deeper into the crowd's anticipation. I stood in the Uchiha viewing area, arms crossed, dark eyes scanning the battlefield like it was a ledger begging for balance. The air thrummed with excitement, the crowd leaning forward, their cheers a living thing that pulsed through the stands. The host strode back to center stage, his wiry frame buzzing with theatrical flair, voice slicing through the din like a tax collector's demand.
"Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves—the third match is upon us!" The crowd hushed, breath held tight. He flung an arm toward the green side. "From the proud Sarutobi clan—Ryu Sarutobi!"
Ryu stepped into the ring, a ripple of murmurs washing over the spectators. His dark hair was yanked into a tight ponytail, red markings slashing across his cheeks like war paint against his tan skin. He moved with a casual swagger, but his eyes burned—sharp, focused, a spark of Sarutobi fire waiting to ignite. I tilted my head, sizing him up. The Sarutobi were jacks-of-all-trades—ninjutsu, taijutsu, grit. Ryu carried that legacy in every step.
"And on the red side," the host's tone dipped, a chill creeping in, "from the enigmatic Aburame clan—Shinoe Aburame!"
The crowd's excitement twisted into something colder as Shinoe emerged. High-collared coat, dark glasses hiding his eyes, he glided forward with an eerie grace that set my Observation Haki tingling. The Aburame's insect mastery was the stuff of campfire tales—unsettling, relentless. Even I felt a prickle crawl up my spine, though I masked it with a smirk.
The host's hand slashed down. "Begin!"
Ryu exploded into motion, hands weaving seals faster than a clerk stamping forms. "Fire Style: Phoenix Flame Jutsu!" Small fireballs spat from his mouth, darting through the air like angry hornets. Shinoe barely flinched—his head tilted, and a black swarm erupted from his coat, a writhing wall of Kikaichu that swallowed the flames whole, reducing them to ash.
I leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Kikaichu right out the gate. Bold."
Ryu skidded to a halt, unfazed, hands slowing into deliberate signs. "Earth Style: Earth Flow Spears!" The ground beneath Shinoe bucked, jagged spikes bursting upward to skewer him. The Aburame stepped back, his insects swirling into a buzzing platform that lifted him just above the chaos. The spears shattered against each other, useless, and Shinoe raised a hand, voice low as a whisper on the wind. "Parasitic Insect Jutsu."
The swarm scattered—black specks of chakra hunting Ryu's signature. He grimaced, slamming his hands together. "Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!" A gale roared forth, blasting the insects into disarray, forcing Shinoe to shield his face. Ryu charged, kunai flashing, but the Kikaichu surged back, a dark tide aimed at his throat.
Ryu pivoted, chakra flaring. "Sarutobi Clan Secret Technique: Adamantine Staff Strike!" His arm lashed out, palm glowing as an invisible staff of raw force smashed through the swarm, scattering it before arcing toward Shinoe. The Aburame twisted away, but the blow grazed his side, sending him skidding across the dirt. He rolled up, glasses glinting, and thrust an arm forward. "Secret Technique: Insect Binding Cage."
The Kikaichu spiraled, trapping Ryu in a buzzing cage. The Sarutobi's eyes narrowed, hands snapping into a tiger seal. "Fire Style: Dragon Flame Bomb!" A torrent of flame roared from his mouth, torching the insects and breaking the cage apart. Shinoe clicked his tongue, retreating as fire licked at his coat.
For twenty brutal minutes, they clashed—Ryu's elemental fury against Shinoe's creeping menace. Flames met swarms, earth shattered under insect waves, the arena a chaos of smoke and rubble. Ryu finally broke through, chakra surging into his legs as he blitzed forward, the ground cracking beneath him. Shinoe's insects formed a desperate shield, but Ryu slipped past, driving a fist into the Aburame's gut. Shinoe crumpled, out cold.
Silence gripped the arena, then shattered. "Winner: Ryu Sarutobi!" the host bellowed, and the crowd roared.
I leaned back, impressed. "Hard fight, well won."
My Father Madara grunted, arms crossed. "Too long. He needs to finish faster."
My Uncle Izuna smirked, elbowing me. "Still, not bad for a Sarutobi. Bet he's sore tomorrow."
Ryu stood panting, staring at Shinoe's fallen form before nodding—a quiet salute—and trudging back to his clan. The crowd's cheers chased him as the host swept forward again. "And now—the fourth match!" The tension snapped back, taut as a bowstring. "On the green side, from the Kurama clan—Kobby Kurama!"
Kobby stepped up, crimson hair catching the sun like blood on a blade, violet eyes cold and piercing. The Kurama's genjutsu prowess was legendary—mind-benders who turned reality into a nightmare. I felt a flicker of curiosity; this would be good.
"And on the red side, from the fierce Inuzuka clan—Sanji Inuzuka!"
Sanji bounded in, feral grin splitting his face, a massive white wolf at his side—red eyes glinting, fur bristling with intent. The Inuzuka were beasts in human skin, their ninken bonds making them a whirlwind of claws and fangs. The crowd leaned in, eager for the clash.
"Begin!"
Sanji struck first, wolf mirroring his leap. "Fang Passing Fang!" They spun into twin drills of fur and fury, tearing toward Kobby. The Kurama stood still, violet eyes locking onto Sanji's. "Kurama Clan Secret Technique: Dreambinding Illusion."
Sanji froze mid-air, crashing down, eyes glazed. His wolf snarled, lunging at Kobby, but the genjutsu master raised a hand. "Sleep." The beast dropped, rolling limp at his feet. Sanji groaned, shaking his head as his chakra flared, snapping the illusion just as Kobby whispered, "Mind Rend."
Sanji screamed, hands clawing at his skull as blood trickled from his nose. But he fought through, body twisting with chakra. "Beast Mimicry: Wolf Fang Over Fang!" He lunged, a blur of feral power. Kobby sidestepped, genjutsu weaving afterimages—Sanji slashed at shadows, roaring in frustration.
Twenty minutes of relentless chaos followed—Sanji's raw strength crashing against Kobby's mind games. Claws met illusions, howls drowned in silence. Finally, Kobby's control won out—Sanji staggered, then collapsed beside his wolf, both out cold.
"Winner: Kobby Kurama!" The crowd erupted again.
I smirked, leaning forward. "That genjutsu… nasty stuff."
My Father Madara nodded, eyes narrowing. "He's one to watch."
My Grandfather Tajima chuckled darkly. "Mind tricks won't touch our blood, though."
My Uncle Izuna stretched, grinning. "Your turn's coming, nephew. Ready to steal the show again?"
I shot him a sidelong glance. "Always." My blood hummed, Retsu's pendant warm against my chest—a quiet reminder of why I was here. The competition was heating up, and I could feel the weight of my next fight creeping closer.
---