"I know you're all exhausted from the battles just now," said the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, as Naruto was already visibly fidgeting with excitement, ready to dash off for training. "But before you leave, there's one more important thing you must do for the official tournament."
Naruto froze in place.
Hiruzen gave a small nod to Anko Mitarashi, who had—at some point—produced a cardboard box. She stepped forward toward the Genin.
"In this box are slips of paper," Hiruzen explained. "Each of you will draw one."
"I'll walk around. Just take one in order," Anko added, approaching the group with a grin.
There was no official order set by Hayate Gekkō for how the candidates stood, so everyone was loosely gathered. Shikamaru happened to be standing on the far end. Anko's sharp eyes spotted him first, and she strolled straight up to him, flashing a teasing smile as her brow arched playfully.
"Pick one," she said, winking slightly. "And remember—just one per person!"
Shikamaru sighed, slipping a hand into the box and drawing a paper. He unfolded it and saw a kanji inked in calligraphy brush: six.
One by one, the others followed suit.
When all the slips were drawn, Hiruzen cleared his throat to gather their attention.
"Now then," he said, "read out the numbers you drew, left to right."
"I got six," Shikamaru stated flatly.
"Nine," said Ino beside him.
"Three," Chōji followed.
"One," said Shino, his voice calm as ever.
"Two!" Naruto shouted.
"Four," Tenten chimed in.
"Seven," Gaara said quietly.
"Five," Temari added with a neutral tone.
While the students called out their numbers, Ibiki Morino—standing beside the Hokage—was already jotting notes in a small notepad. Once the last number was read, he glanced over at Hiruzen and asked in a low voice:
"So that means Uchiha Sasuke is number eight?"
"Correct," Hiruzen replied with a nod.
He then turned to the confused Genin and announced, "Now, I'll tell you the matchups for the final tournament."
Without addressing their expressions of curiosity and unease, the Hokage nodded to Ibiki.
"Show them."
Ibiki flipped his notepad around so the candidates could see. On it was a simple tournament bracket, with names connected by lines, showing the matchups for the first round.
The first match:
Shino Aburame (1) vs. Chōji Akimichi (3)
Chōji blinked in surprise. Ibiki noticed and explained, "Because Chōji had a bye in the preliminaries, he's required to fight an extra round in the finals. That means—win or lose—you'll face Naruto Uzumaki next."
The other matchups were:
Tenten (4) vs. Temari (5)
Shikamaru Nara (6) vs. Gaara (7)
Ino Yamanaka (9) vs. Sasuke Uchiha (8)
"Shikamaru... against Gaara?" Chōji muttered, his face paling. He had just been feeling relieved he didn't draw that terrifying Sand ninja, but now he was more worried for his friend. "Man, talk about unlucky…"
"Wait a minute," Shino asked, frowning. "Why is the final exam structured like a knockout tournament? Doesn't that mean only one person can win? Are you saying only one of us can become a Chūnin?"
His question made several others tense up. All eyes turned to the Third Hokage.
"Not at all," Hiruzen replied with a small shake of his head. "This tournament is judged by myself, the Kazekage, and numerous feudal lords and military leaders from across the nations."
He gave the group a moment to process that.
"What we're evaluating isn't just who wins or loses," he continued. "We're judging how you fight. Even if you lose in the first round, if your performance shows the qualities of a Chūnin, you can be promoted."
Temari folded her arms. "So you're saying... all of us have a chance to be promoted?"
"Exactly," Hiruzen confirmed. "However…" —his expression turned serious— "there's also the possibility that none of you will be promoted."
A murmur swept through the Genin.
Hiruzen raised a hand.
"Still, the further you go, the more chances you have to show your abilities to the judges. Winning increases your visibility—and your opportunity for promotion."
He took a deep breath, then smiled.
"You now have one month to prepare. You may spend it however you choose—training, resting, strategizing. It's entirely up to you. That is all."
He turned slightly and raised his voice one final time.
"Dismissed!"
…
"I can't believe I drew Gaara," Shikamaru muttered, walking alongside Ino and Chōji toward Asuma.
He frowned in deep thought.
From today's match alone, Shikamaru knew he wasn't yet a match for Gaara. Not even close. If he wanted any hope of defeating him—or more importantly, stopping him from transforming into Shukaku and destroying the village—then the upcoming month of training would be critical.
Resting wasn't an option.
Shikamaru glanced at the group of jonin gathered nearby. His eyes flicked past most of them, barely noticing. He thought briefly of Jiraiya.
He knew—based on what he'd remembered from the original story—that Jiraiya had already returned to Konoha around this time. But even if Shikamaru found him, it wasn't likely that the Sannin would bother training him.
He wasn't Naruto.
His father wasn't the Fourth Hokage. His last name wasn't Uzumaki. It was Nara.
"So what can I do…?" he wondered quietly.
His eyes drifted to one figure in particular—a man standing off to the side, arms folded across his chest in that unmistakable green jumpsuit.
Might Guy.
Unconventional, unpredictable… and undeniably strong.
Shikamaru's eyes narrowed, gears turning behind them.
Maybe there was a way after all.
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