Dystopia Unleashed

By WhoIsThisDamnAuthor

So far, I've made the story progress at quite the leisurely pace.

I think it's now justified to insert a time skip here. Probably a few months till the Chuunin Selection exam.

I'll have flashbacks, but they'll be few and far between.

Just like my chapters, eh?

Read.

DISCLAIMER : I DO NOT OWN NARUTO OR DRAGON BALL Z.

Chapter 15: Selection

Whoosh.

Uzumaki Kushina's sweat flowed in rivulets down her face; massive drops detached themselves from her skin as she twisted, turned and dodged to hold off Kakashi and Rin's combined attack. Kunai whistling in their hands as they wielded them, the duo was't allowing her to do much more than defend herself. Completely pressured, and on the back foot, chances seemed rather bleak for the seventeen-year-old in this round. But then again, chances were called that for a reason. Bleak or otherwise, Kushina was known to beat the odds. Ans beat them she did, emphatically.

Within an instant, the status quo of the match changed. Kakashi made a small error in his footwork while approaching the redhead for a quick stab. Landing on a small rough patch in the grass, his foot stumbled just a little bit. Kushina was waiting for just that. As his blade still came in from the front, she casually tapped his knee with her free hand, using the other to grab Rin's simultaneous attack from the opposite side. As Kakashi was trying to regain balance, destabilized as he was from the sudden shift of his fulcrum, the red devil made short work of Rin, who definitely wasn't capable to take on the Chuunin alone.

Disarming her with a sudden paper explosive thrown into her hand, Kushina grappled her torso, using her own momentum to push her away, right into Kakashi's path. The two collided with comic effect, and collapsed onto the freshly-mowed lawn, too tired and disoriented to continue.

Hmph. Useless. Kushina almost spat in disgust. These two fledglings weren't even close to being Chuunin; in her opinion, they still shouldn't have been allowed to get out of the Academy. Despite their meteoric rise in fame for breaking the record for most missions done in a month, set by the Sannin themselves, the four-man team still wasn't used to applying teamwork to collectively defeat their stronger instructors when they were being really serious.

All of that notwithstanding, Kushina was also out of breath. Winning this spar had not been easy. Kakashi was skillful and had the instincts of a predator; Rin's technical knowledge was beyond compare. Still, they were pathetic, unable to scale the one mountainous task that most teams had already done so far. Outside the training fields, they seemed bonded enough; they couldn't be more friendly without having naked pillow fights together. But in shinobi training, they remained frustratingly self-centered, unable to grasp even the basic nuances of working together.

Sure, they had their moments, like the time Goku and Rin had beaten the Chuunin during their mission with the cool-looking throw Rasen-whatever combo, but then again, her only point of reference for that tale was Minato. And her boyfriend was pathologically incapable of being critical about anything. He was just too nice to point out stuff that they needed to really improve on. This was where the redhead felt that she came in. Being the unimpressed bitch. Being dismissive and disappointed in everything they presented, just to make sure that they improved.

So far, their own talents were great, granted. But their combinations lacked all charm and creativity. Someone needed to step up and sacrifice his/her individual glory for the team, but so far, no one had realized that.

As for talents... Oh, but the four had gotten so damn strong. Obito's Sharingan's ability allowed him to recreate any move he saw once, as long as it was within his chakra molding capabilities. Kakashi wielded his sword with an expert's finesse and precision, and Rin's defensive moves were insanely effective in stopping whatever their two teachers chose to throw at them. And Goku...

That kid had begun to create his own niche of flabbergasting skill and power that Kakashi and Obito, for all their training, were beginning to fall behind. It was like he found a new way to improve every day; his chakra control had gotten very fluid and precise, not to mention his swordsmanship. His eating habits and continuous diligence on his workouts were beginning to noticeably change how he looked. Around Rin's fourteenth birthday, just a week before their selection tests, he had bested Kushina in an arm-wrestling bout without even breaking a sweat, completely ignoring the three year age difference between the two.

Oh, the redhead had lived in constant denial of that event for the next couple of days, but soon enough, she'd realized that the kid, in his own damn way, was rather extraordinary. It might actually be a good thing for him not to participate in the Chuunin exams, she'd started to realize. Such a prodigious potential went way beyond the concept of the shinobi rank system.

The one thing she found unsettling was the callousness with which he shrugged off his progress. Ever since that evening three months ago, when he'd decided to opt out of the competition, he'd lacked a certain ambition and craving for strength that he'd constantly displayed before. He chose, instead, to spend time on the sidelines, observing Kakashi, Rin and Obito train like mad, alongside Mikoto, who seemed like she came there every chance she got. Somehow, that was resulting in him getting better even faster than he was before.

Even during missions, he seemed more attentive, more observant than before, reaching targets and escorting people with efficiency and skill, earning grudging nods from even Hokage-sama. Kushina couldn't get why the lack of training had randomly spiked his growth curve by so much, as she watched her protege scale new heights with even more ease than before. It wasn't that his skill level ever rose slowly, but this was meteoric even for the Saiyan.

After the first couple of weeks, Kushina had figured it out. Goku observing the others, their chakra flow, their fighting techniques had told him exactly what he had been doing wrong. It was simple; Genin Academy lesson #1. Learn by observation, especially of your peers. The Saiyan had always tried whatever anyone had shown him immediately, and although he managed to replicate it with flabbergasting aplomb, Kushina realized that it was merely superficial, like the difference between a normal clone and the Kage Bunshin.

Now, after reducing the load of his training regimen, he'd had more time to see, to reflect on the bad habits and mistakes he'd only ingrained further in himself by his narcissistic desire to get better on his own. The seventeen-year old Chuunin didn't know whether he'd realized this in an epiphany, or it'd simply happened as a side effect of him pulling his foot off the pedal. It just might have been because of the new medical ninjutsu training he'd started with Tsunade-sama. Whatever it was, it happened to be working, and it seemed to piss his teammates off like crazy.

"Next!" she called. Obito and Goku stood up, ready to take their crack at beating her. Kushina showed her usual face to the two, one of complacent disgust, but inside, she was concerned. She wasn't sure she could take these two together.

Wasn't sure at all.

The morning progressed to afternoon, and Tsunade opened her eyes wearily. Her window was positioned such that no sunlight directly fell on her eyes until it was late enough to skip lunch. Taking another five minutes to stretch one out, she lazily ambled over to the basin, and splashed some water on her face, trying to get the sleep out her brain. Looking at herself in the mirror, she noticed a tiny crease starting to form on the edges of her eyes. With a small effort and a little regenerative chakra, she made it disappear like wiping away a speck of dust.

Soon I'm not going to be able to do that, she mused, skin can only stay young for so long.

The blonde walked with the grace of a duck, waddling over awkwardly to the kitchen. Yesterday's training had not been a walk in the park, as she'd estimated. Goku was the only one she could punch with all her strength. She'd given him the basic medical handbook, and until he finished that and got to a certain level of proficiency in the chakra control drills she'd assigned to him, he had to live life as her punching bag.

Also, Dan had come to watch them spar yesterday. The white-haired man had started visiting quite often of late, and Tsunade completely lost her shit when he decided to show up unannounced to their sparring in the garden. Her focus had wavered, and Goku had taken the rare opportunity beautifully, winding her with a heel kick right in the gut. It still hurt; she hadn't healed it out of sheer embarrassment.

He was going to come again in an hour, once he confirmed that there were no missions there for their special team to do. The Hokage wouldn't give them one now, what with the Chuunin selections a few days away. Although, Sarutobi-sensei did often have a very unusual sense of humor. No one knew what his next random fit of anger might end up doing for the poor Genin.

She put the kettle on for a cup of tea. The change in seasons had been marked and abrupt, suddenly taking a turn for the worse in the last few days. It was sort of like a foretelling for things to come, perhaps. She put on a down comforter, waiting for the water to boil.

Things had been rather...different since the little teenager had come to learn the art of healing from her. Every day seemed to have a sense of purpose; the blonde rarely found herself bored anymore. He brought his characteristic energy into everything he did, bringing a childlike demeanor and an optimism that was hard to ignore. She'd found herself smiling at the darkest of times, moments when she'd remember Nawaki, and what had happened to him during the First Shinobi War. His presence was a reminder of what she'd lost, and a promise of better things to come in the future.

As for Dan, oh was she smitten. She was not a believer in the usual feminine crap she'd seen the other kunoichi do, all the fawning and the gossiping and whatnot, but this man really got her freak juice flowing. It was really an effort to not rip off his demure kimono robes and take him right there...

Oh, heat check. Heat check. Turning crimson, she suddenly threw away the bedding wrapped around her, stepping lightly into the kitchen. The water was boiling nicely, and it seemed like it was going to rain. Perfect.

As she approached the kettle, there was a knock on the door. "It's open," she called out without looking back. Goku must have arrived, she assumed. Taking a few leaves in her hands, she crushed them, infusing them with a little chakra. They would help with the pain. She had bore enough for that one oversight.

"Could you make me some too, sensei?" His voice had begun to crack. The last syllable of his sentence had come out as a strangled squeak. She answered with a noncommittal hmm, adding more leaves and a little more water to the kettle. She heard the dining room chair being dragged back, as her protege made himself comfortable. This was starting to become a routine now; as the weather had gotten colder, he'd begun asking her for tea more frequently, as compared to his usual dose of cold milk. The kid was growing up.

Pouring the hot beverage into her green ceramic cups, she turned around to see a neat little ball of chakra balanced on top of his hands. He was learning how to better take care of his energy, to not simply dissipate it the way ninjutsu attacks usually worked. No, the trick was keeping it all in, to not allow even a single little speck to escape his attention. For that one speck can randomly shoot through the body, killing the patient instantly.

She tutted in disappointment. The Saiyan was failing miserably. Little streaks of chakra particles were slipping through his trembling fingers, through the shambles of a mental sphere that he had designed. Another problem with his technique that she'd noticed right away was that he was extremely wasteful with his chakra. Having been blessed with a massive amount of it, he never really felt the need to conserve it whenever he tried to replicate the complex jutsus Minato was introducing him to. The abundance of energy that flowed through his body was inculcating some extremely bad habits that she was correcting, bit by freaking bit.

Progress had been slow. It was difficult enough how to teach someone chakra usage, but to un-learn his wrong method and re-learn the right one had been one hellish nightmare. It was only after a month and a half of curses, failure and loss of temper was he able to forget how he manipulated chakra intuitively, and begin to do it the right way. The only upside to this ridiculous training was that his control over his state of calm, and his ability to get his nature and shape transformations right quickly was improving far faster than any of his teammates. One could say, in a way, that doing it wrong in the first place was a blessing in disguise.

One could, of course say that, but to Tsunade, it was merely an exercise in futility, but a requirement so severe could not just be kept aside. There was no way she let him try to fiddle around with an actual body until he was able to exert pinpoint precision and more over his chakra. Truth be told, she wasn't going to teach him a shred of medical ninjutsu even then. He still had to show her the affinity towards weaving the intricate flows she needed to perform her near-miraculous healing. Only one in a thousand had that ability, and she wasn't going to waste her time teaching someone who didn't, no matter how talented he was.

Placing the cups on the kitchen table, she walked over, placing her hands over the chakra ball that the Saiyan was trying so hard to stabilize. Within a split second, the errant streams of chakra emanating from the sphere vanished, and the resulting object looked serene and perfect. She pushed out some of her own chakra, and winked out the ball.

"The tea's ready," she motioned towards the table. Goku nodded, stepping up and pulling out two chairs, one for him and the other for Tsunade. They sat and sipped the piping hot drink in silence, grateful for the warmth in their hands. By her calculations, Goku, paired with someone else from his team, should have beaten Kushina by now. The fact that he said nothing about it just showed how much he'd matured in the last three months. Despite the wartime tension, the people of Konoha still went about their lives, enjoying every moment.

Tsunade glanced at the window. The drizzle had strengthened, and large drops fell onto the glass pane with a constant sound.

These times of peace shall not last forever.

Might as well savor them.

"YAAAH!"

Hatake Kakashi punched the bathroom wall with on a sudden impulse. Next to him, the shower still ran, letting out all the hot water onto the white tiles of the floor. Usually very quick with his morning ablutions, the gray-haired prodigy was being extremely tardy today. Today, of all days, when it was paramount that he reach the examination hall withing the next fifteen minutes or be disqualified from entering the Chuunin tests.

It was not unusual to have cold feet right before such an important event, but for the cocksure, condescending thirteen-year-old, it was a complete surprise. Taking a step back, he felt the scalding water fall onto his head, clearing his hesitant mind. He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. Stepping out, he wiped himself hurriedly with a towel, dressing sloppily as was his wont.

The most direct path to the hall was directly through his window. As soon as his last pouch of tools was buttoned on, his last kunai tucked into yet another hidden location, he sprinted and jumped out the open frame, hitting the ground in a flat-out sprint. Traversing the village always calmed him down, no matter how many times Goku beat him at it. It was something that the Saiyan couldn't take away from him.

Taking a sudden jab step to the right, he placed his foot onto a ramp, elevating off of it towards the left, right on top of the awning of the grocery store. Ignoring the proprietor's angry rant, he jumped again, this time to reach the edge of the parapet of the next building. Climbing over, he slid his legs over first, and pushed hard off his hands to land onto the parapet leaning forward. Reaching max velocity was trivial after that.

Kakashi had noticed a continual increase in his physical conditioning since Goku had accelerated his progress. The competition was contagious, and he soon felt himself look forward to each new day with a crazed enthusiasm, ready to tackle the next spar, the next push-up, the next sword drill head on. Even as he looked at his watch, counting twelve minutes to zero, he kept running, clearing his mind of all stray thoughts. This was what he'd planned; an endorphin-fueled theoretical examination where he would come out as the clear winner.

Now, if only that bumbling Uchiha would pull his own weight, we'd get through.

The rules had been made clear to them yesterday. If any one of the three team members failed, the entire team failed. Kakashi was fairly confident that Rin would pull through, but Obito, even with his newfound Sharingan and his recent win over Kushina, was an unreliable fucktard. If they had to cheat to get through, Kakashi was willing to put his every instinct aside and pass the imbecile a note with the answers. Discreetly, of course. Cheating without getting caught wasn't cheating.

Ah, the credo of the eternal loser.

Launching off of the last rooftop, he skid to a halt before the gates of the examination center. Right before the face of a waiting Iwagakure Genin. The pudgy-faced fatass seemed a little lost, and his bland expression reminded him of a potato salad.

"Get out the way."

Kakashi wasn't in a very helpful mood. Pushing the fatty aside, he entered, only to be drawn back by a strong hand grabbing the scruff of his neck. Turning, he faced the dude, apathy written all over his expression. He seemed to be foaming at the mouth, and had prepared a long, self-righteous monologue aimed at the gray-haired teen.

Temper temper.

Before he could open his mouth, Kakashi drew out his sword, holding it across the multitude of chins that surrounded his face. The angry guy switched to sweaty and scared in a second. Holding the katana in place for a second longer, Kakashi stepped back, turned, sheathed it and sprinted towards the hall in one fluid motion, leaving the fat fuck confused.

He checked his watch. Six minutes to zero.

Entering his designated room, he was met with a nice, heavy silence. Some extremely ominous-looking dude was giving him the stink-eye. Without even batting an eyelid, he located his teammates, and took the vacant seat next to them. The examiner checked his watch. T minus four. The last open seat in the room next to two Iwa Genins told Kakashi that ol' fatso was the one who was left. Making eye contact with the scary individual in the front of the room, he pointed outside with his thumb.

The guy nodded. Another Jonin stepped out, and in a couple of minutes, was back with the bumbling fool. Somehow, Kakashi wasn't impressed with the turnout. Looking at every strange face and judging them, he calculated that the toughest challenge would come from that pretentious Asuma's team. Looking to his left, he nodded at Rin, ignoring the Uchiha. Obito flared up, but before he could say anything, a bell rang.

The chief examiner took out the papers, butting them on the hard wooden table with a resonating THUNK. Looking over at the nervous Chuunin probables, he said only three words.

"Best of luck."

Even after his run calming him down, Kakashi felt butterflies in his stomach. He pressed down on it, dispelling them. He was a genius. Nothing could take him out of the competition at this stage. He would ace this and move on. Nothing would stop him...

Now.

Looking at the convoluted, twisted diagrams on the paper and the horrendous math attached, even the Hatake gulped audibly. Over to his left, he heard Rin gasp similarly, and saw Obito cradle his head in his arms. There was a sudden sound as the fat fuck fainted at the sight of the paper, ending things for that particular Iwagakure team right there and then.

Heaven help us.

As his teammates took what was probably the toughest exam in their life so far, Goku sat outside Ichiraku's, waiting for Mikoto to arrive. The establishment was strangely closed today, otherwise the Saiyan would have been demolishing a few dozen bowls of ramen by now. Ichiraku had decided to take a personal day, considering his rather hectic lifestyle in the last few months. His black blade was in his hands, and he examined its structure in detail using the chakra probes he'd learnt in secret from the medical books Tsunade kept lying around.

Closing his eyes, he recreated a mental picture out of the response times of the chakra that he sent out, a sort of sonar-slash-X-Ray imaging technique that allowed him to observe the intricacies of the object's structure. Originally intended for living tissue, the jutsu worked beautifully on inanimate stuff as well. He came across the hollow reservoir for the chakra and the exit and entry hole almost immediately, but on serious inspection over the last few weeks, he'd grown to truly appreciate the craftsmanship that had gone into forging the weapon.

Connected to the main reservoir were conduits that allowed the chakra to seep into the main body of the blade, much like the circulatory system in the body. And, by successively compressing the substance through the veins, it made sure a massive amount could be stored at once, increasing the weight of the blade. Chakra had pressure, so it was imperative that it have mass. Goku had felt like a complete imbecile when Kushina had told him that; now he felt glad he'd paid the modicum of attention necessary to remember the fact.

Oh, Master Roshi, if only you could see your stupid disciple now, you'd be devastated...

A quick tap on his shoulder made him exit his reverie and look up. Mikoto had arrived. Goku waited for the customary flood of hormones and endorphins, savoring them as they rushed through his mind, coloring his cheeks. She looked rather beautiful today, what with her hair let loose and all. It framed her face perfectly, complimenting her delicate features with a slightly rugged look. He had stopped counting the number of times he'd noticed the small changes to her hair that she made every time she came to meet him. Every time she'd made the change subtler, and he'd still managed to point it out on the first try.

Even now, she looked at him, waiting for him to notice.

"You've curled the ends a little bit," he said. It had somehow been too easy today. Her face lit up, and she flashed him a wide smile. That told the Saiyan everything he needed to know about what was happening between the two of them. His body might be that of a thirteen-year old, but he'd experienced this exact feeling when he'd made eye contact with Chi-Chi. Guilt at betraying his wife did sting him a lot, but as Shenron's parting words had been to forget his past entirely, he'd now begun to believe with a certain sincerity that there was no going back.

He waited for the moment to pass, and got up, sheathing his sword. Mikoto straightened, her hands behind her back, excitement clear on her face.

"Where to today?" she asked him, with her lilting soprano. Goku was finding it hard to keep a straight face. He too started grinning like a little child. Choosing a direction at random, he started walking, the Uchiha at his side. She resisted the impulse to hold his hand. They had barely walked a hundred meters when Mikoto had a sudden idea.

"Do you want to come over?"

Goku didn't understand what she meant. When he merely stood there, confused, she decided to elaborate.

"The enclosure, stupid!" she had on a playful face, made even more so by the smile on it. "I'll show you around inside, if you want. Give you a glimpse of where we live." Goku nodded in agreement, excitement spilling over onto his face as well.

"Let's race, then?" she asked, knowing full well that he loved doing exactly that. The Saiyan shook his head.

"I really want to walk today."

Mikoto was surprised. Pleasantly so. As they turned onto the main boulevard, walking together, enjoying the sounds of a lazy village afternoon, the Uchiha couldn't help but admire the transformation that Goku had undergone in the last three months. Before he'd started his training with Tsunade, he still had the gravity of his past lingering in his eyes, but he had displayed a kind of willful childishness that was both endearing and annoying at the same time. Now, after his sudden epiphany, as he liked to call it, the Saiyan had received a new perspective on maturity, and had gotten much more endearing than before.

He walked beside her, seeming content to let the silence surround them. For his friends, today was probably the worst day of their lives, as they struggled through the paper she herself had passed eleven months ago. It had not been as hard for her; she was the recommended age for the level of the examination, after all. Genin were supposed to wait at least a couple of years before making the jump, around the age of fifteen or even sixteen was best. However, that rule had soon become a recommendation that nobody followed any more, except with teams that contained the Uchiha.

Disguised superficially under the pretext to let their Sharingan develop further, those specific teams had been held back. Not that Mikoto cared; she wasn't interested in the fast track to the responsibility. Hence, she'd waited patiently, even as her teammates ground their teeth in anger and frustration, sometimes even spilling it over on her. Mikoto had realized just how petty people could get, especially when they were being left behind in the rat race.

Again, the kid walking next to her had proven himself to be different in that aspect as well. Despite having the talent and skill to ace the exams without even breaking a sweat, Goku had chosen to stop his meteoric rise, giving time instead to learn the more detailed aspects of ninjutsu. Mikoto had often helped him with his lessons, trying to get him to match even the most leisurely of paces set by his new sensei, the vivacious Tsunade. She'd taught Int. Med. Ninjutsu for a week every month as a guest instructor, and Mikoto remembered her temper very well.

The flaw she'd noticed almost immediately in Goku's chakra handling was the weapon-like characteristic he instinctively gave it. So many damn errors, he'd said in frustration that day, perhaps feeling that emotion for the first time in his long, long time of existence. She'd relented, cutting him some slack. Tsunade was merciless in rebuking any mistakes any of her subordinates made. No wonder she was regarded with fear as the toughest instructor to pass Int. Med. under. Even Mikoto, being an Uchiha, had barely passed by using her Sharingan to refine her control.

They rounded the corner, facing the lonely walls of the Uchiha stronghold in the distance. Mikoto drew a deep breath, calming herself. It will be fine, she convinced herself, no one will say anything. Goku is nothing if not a friend to the Uchiha.

Reaching the gate, she swung it open with her right hand. It opened without a single squeak. Being the Konoha Police Force meant that they got maintenance and repairs done stat. They had that privilege, at least.

Stepping in, she heard Goku stifle a gasp.

Here goes nothing.

The afternoon breeze blew across the deserted streets around the enclosure. Rustling the foliage around, it somehow seemed to miss one particular bush, which stayed still as death. Among the others, it seemed like it was moving merely because the others near it were. The illusion of motion. Pretty nifty.

The Root assassin Danzou had sent kept silent and immobile, having been instructed to observe only. His orders were crystal clear - bring evidence of some sort of connection between the kid and the traitors. And that evidence wasn't going to present itself, tied with a nice satin bow. He had to somehow get in and keep tabs on Goku's whereabouts, and take some sort of photograph of him interacting with the Uchiha top brass.

He sat there, thinking furiously. Lighting a cigarette, he took a massive drag, enjoying the nicotine's effects. He had often wondered why this specific surveillance mission had been assigned to him. He was neither the smartest nor the most skilled in the Root. Danzou himself had nearly beheaded him for bungling his last mission, which too had been related to the boy. He and his team had not been able to finish him off, right at this very spot. He'd been very confused at the mercy Danzou had shown then. But now, he realized the reason for that uncharacteristic reaction.

His master obviously believed in him, confident that he would be able to to his duties well this time. He felt a sudden feeling of gratefulness for the chance to prove his naysayers wrong. He scanned the area once more, until he was sure that there was no safer alternative to entering from the front, all gung-ho. Stepping out from his hiding spot, he made his way stealthily to the door. Surely the Uchiha were not so paranoid as to place protection on the entrance to their enclosure. That would be too great a display of mistrust. The conflict hadn't reached there yet.

He gingerly held out a finger, testing the door. Nothing. With a barely suppressed sigh, he reached out to open the door.

THUNK.

The kunai that hit him was travelling so fast that it seemed like it was shot out of a cannon. It barreled through his floating ribs like it was so much wet paper, lodging in his heart muscle. He was dead before the high-velocity blade had time to push him a full two meters to his right, arms flopping lifelessly. He landed in a convenient heap to the right of the entrance, a nice trail of spurted blood from the gate to where he lay.

Orochimaru lowered his custom-made kunai launcher, a gleeful smile on his snake-like face. It was not every day that you got to test out new weaponry on live targets. The Sannin had been waiting to use it on someone for the last six months. Somehow, the opportunity had never presented itself until today. He'd enjoyed using it on cardboard cutouts and on the muscle tissue he'd cultivated, but this was a wholly different story altogether. He couldn't replicate the facial expressions that accompanied such a violent death in his lab.

Thus said, Danzou's plan was rather ingenious. Despite its repetitive nature and location, the addition of an actual murder the kid escaped unscathed from would show the elders that the threat presented to the village by both him and the Uchiha was rising steadily. Also, the kunai launcher was something unheard of, so it would be assumed that the assailant was hit by a normal shinobi with some sort of crazed, angry strength. Danzou had planned this down to the minute. After half an hour, the ANBU's rounds would bring them here. Given the speed with which the Uchiha and her companion would traverse the compound and leave, they would be exiting right around the time when the secret service could see them with the body.

The witness was in place, and so was the evidence and the motive. This was the same dude who had attacked the teen a couple of months ago. This gave a nice cyclical revenge plot. Orochimaru had grown the cells he'd sourced from the kid into a full hand, with fingers, and of course, fingerprints. The blade's handle was loaded with them. Now, no matter what he said, his story couldn't hold up at a tribunal. He was doomed.

There was only one possible pitfall. That the Uchiha girl somehow contrived to keep him inside for longer than the time window Danzou had scoped out. Given the Uchiha's propensity to be unpredictable, it was quite the risk. But even if the kid wasn't caught on the scene, there was enough to spark an investigation, souring the relations between the clan of the Sharingan and the village even further. It was a win-win.

The snake-like man slotted the wide-bore rifle back into its sleeve on his back, choosing to exit the scene quickly. There was only one thing that was missing from the entire scenario. And that was Orochimaru's incentive in all this. Sure, the weapon test helped, but it was only one shot, in relatively still conditions. The hebi resolved to make sure that Danzou would owe him for this. Big time.

Ignoring the crimson fluid pooling underneath the deceased assassin, he returned to his hideout. The job had been done.

Now to wait and watch for the fallout.

Sixty seconds remained.

Nohara Rin wiped the beads of sweat pooling on her eyebrow. She clenched and unclenched her fist, trying to stop her hand from cramping painfully. The test had been a complete and utter nightmare, and that was just from the atmosphere. The questions themselves were enough to fry someone's mind, but the tension and the innovative cheating going on added to the pressure and the headache. The Sand genin were communicating through flecks of dust floating near their ears, which were vibrating like speakers to share whatever knowledge they had.

The Iwa shinobi had given up, considering that their teammate hadn't gotten up in the last three hours, even after several increasingly desperate attempts. The Mist ones were the only dudes in the room who looked anything but nauseous and tense, but even their smiles were shallow and infrequent. The examiner stood there at the front of the hall, surveying the floor. His instructions were clear. If you are caught in the act of cheating, it will result in the immediate debarment of your entire team from the rest of the examination.

If you are caught. The loophole was extremely evident, even to Obito-kun. He was bent over his paper, scribbling furiously, some sort of spherical portal in front of his desk, hidden cleverly by Kakashi's back. Despite his rather retarded moments, the Uchiha was certainly intelligent, Rin had to admit.

As for Kakashi-kun, well...

Thirty seconds.

He suddenly got out of his chair, causing Obito to panic. His viewing sphere was barely hidden now, with one of the side examiners looking at the fuzzy patch to Kakashi's right with suspicion. Dispelling the jutsu, Obito stopped writing, clearly fuming. He gave Kakashi the dirtiest look he could manage, and got up as well. Somehow, the situation called for it, so Rin, on an impulse, got up as well. Picking up the paper in front of her, she followed her two idiotic teammates.

Time seemed to slow down, making the journey to the front of the room feel like it was taking an eternity. Rin glanced at the rest of the people she knew. Sarutobi Asuma seemed like he was chewing his pen, but he had a slim cigarette hidden in there, she was sure. His addiction still hadn't become public, what with the Genin being barely fourteen, but Rin was awed at his audacity. To bring in something like that to the exam hall was tantamount to suicide. If one got caught, that is.

Maito Guy was holding his head, staring at the paper, perhaps willing it to break out in song and dance about the joys of youth. Despite the tense situation, the Nohara couldn't help flashing a smile. The headstrong dude who thought himself to be Kakashi's eternal rival was also a character she enjoyed watching, albeit from a distance. A large distance. Preferably half the world, if that was possible. She didn't like that reflective straight hair at all, to say nothing about his stalker eyes.

Kurenai Yuuhi was doing nothing. The ruby-eyed, tempestuous teen was sleeping, her finished paper on the table. Rin felt a momentary stab pf jealousy, but the plain, brown eyed Nohara chose to ignore it and move on. Ebisu was also snoring, having studied his ass off in the last few days, when their team had gotten a lucky break right before the tests. His eyes hidden behind those ugly round shades, he made a very effective representation as to why Konoha shinobi were considered slackers and work-shirkers.

She waited for Kakashi to submit his paper. The gray-haired prodigy gave the surprised examiner a quick wink, confusing the poor Jonin further. Obito merely slapped his sheets onto the table and left in a huff. Rin approached, a dozen doubts circling in her mind. Have I done everything I could? Maybe if I had a few more seconds to test out that one answer...

The bell rang. Loudly.

As she placed her paper on top of Obito's with a sad face, she heard the scraping of chairs and desks behind her. These guys were extremely particular about time. Submit your paper a second late, and you lost your eligibility immediately. The same penalty applied to giving it in a hurry, or causing a commotion near the examiners' desks. Exiting the room quickly, she saw her two teammates waiting for her.

They showed none of the usual relief or disappointment students generally had after the test. Kakashi was quietly reading Icha Icha Paradaisu for the umpteenth time, and was ignoring Obito's indignant protests that Kakashi shouldn't have moved his ass until the exam was actually over. Despite herself, she let out a smile. There was no danger of ever failing when one had teammates like that. No pressure could crack their determination.

They both turned to her, and Obito smiled. There was no way to tell with Kakashi, but Rin knew somehow, that behind that mask, he must be grinning his lips off.

I suppose it wasn't that bad after all...

ARTH had taken up most of my time the last two months, what with the major overhaul that it needed.

Two years is a long time to keep a story like that going.

Anyway, even DU's two-year anniversary is coming up, and I WILL try to put another chapter up in August.

God only knows why I can't maintain a good pace.

Perhaps it's still me reeling from GSW's loss in the Finals.

All Curry fans, please review. I need that right now.

Fuck, after winning 73 games, that too.