They collected the retrieved Moon scroll, carefully stored it with their own Sun scroll, then began a rapid sweep of the vanquished Suna team. Izumi bound the three Suna Genin, limiting their ability to escape or resist. Renji quickly emptied their pouches, gathering a few more water skins, basic rations, and extra kunai.
"Kill them?" Renji asked, his voice flat, his gaze resting on the bound leader. The rules were clear.
Lethal force was permitted.
Izumi hesitated. She thought of the Kusa Genin, already claimed by the sand. "No," she decided. "Strip them of all usable supplies, conceal them deep within one of the side canyons, far from any path. Let them fail. Let Sunagakure's proctors find them alive, but without scrolls."
Ryuu nodded. "And it leaves no fresh blood or lingering chakra signature for any scavengers or higher-ranked patrols to find readily." Pragmatic. Less baggage. "Good call."
Renji grunted, accepting the decision without argument. They worked with practiced efficiency, stripping the Suna shinobi of anything valuable, including their flak jackets.
Then, moving swiftly and silently, they half-buried the bound forms in a narrow, easily overlooked crevice deeper in the canyon, piling loose rocks over them to provide cover. Within minutes, there was no sign they had ever been there.
"Water," Izumi said, breaking the heavy silence. She unstoppered one of the scavenged water skins, offering it to Ryuu first. He took a modest sip, then passed it to Renji. The water was warm, gritty with dissolved minerals, but it was something.
"We move to the Tower," Izumi stated, her voice low. "Increase our movement speed a bit. Ryuu-san, sensory sweep ahead. Renji-kun, watch our flanks. My Sharingan is on guard against aerial threats or long-range attacks. We move."
They resumed their journey, now heading towards the tower.
Ryuu pushed his chakra senses outwards, focusing on the broader sweep rather than individual signatures now, looking for large groups or established ambushes around the tower. The earlier battle, while short, had reinforced the sheer unpredictability of this examination, and Team Twelve could not afford a single lapse.
Hours bled into one another. They pushed past other, smaller teams, either fleeing from stronger groups or wandering disoriented. Ryuu avoided direct confrontation, sensing that some were already compromised, some simply too weak to bother with, others potentially desperate enough for suicidal charges that would expend precious resources.
As the sun began its painful, drawn-out descent, casting long, stark shadows across the red-tinged sand, the colossal, molar-like Tower finally dominated their view. It rose from the desert floor like a jagged fang, its sandstone weathered smooth by centuries of wind and sand. Around its base, several figures stood silhouetted against the deepening twilight.
"Proctors, and other teams," Izumi murmured, her voice tight with suppressed tension. "Looks like few teams made it on the first day."
Ryuu confirmed, his senses flaring to their maximum extent. He identified a mix of exhaustion and relief from the distant chakra signatures, some still agitated from recent conflict, others a calm and steady.
They approached the tower's entrance, walking deliberately, their pace unwavering. A stern-faced Suna Chunin, one of Sōseki's original examiners, stepped forward as they drew near, his headwrap covering most of his face, his eyes piercing and alert.
"Name. Village. Scroll check," he stated, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.
"Konohagakure, Team Twelve," Izumi replied crisply, stepping forward and offering their laminated ID cards. "Izumi Uchiha, Ryuu Yuki, Renji Kazama. Sun and Moon scrolls acquired." She presented both the scorched Sun scroll they started with, and the Moon scroll they'd taken from the Suna team earlier.
The Chunin's single visible eye narrowed, lingering on Ryuu's bandaged head and pale skin for a moment, then shifted to Izumi's steady gaze, and finally to Renji, who held himself rigidly, projecting calm discipline. He meticulously checked their Konoha hitai-ate, scanned the official scrolls, then the Sun and Moon scrolls they had retrieved, confirming the official seals on both. He handed them back without a word, gesturing towards a wide, dimly lit chamber beyond a heavy, reinforced door.
"Enter. Proceed to the main hall. Wait for further instructions."
They stepped through the heavy door, the oppressive arid air of the desert replaced by the cool, stale atmosphere of carved stone. The circular main hall was vast, already populated by two other teams.
One group, identifiable by their Kumo hitai-ates, consisted of three tall, lanky figures whose relaxed postures hid coiled aggression. The other, from a smaller village, probably Taki, were visibly exhausted, leaning against a pillar.
Izumi scanned the room, her gaze sharp, analytical. Renji, restless even now, shifted from foot to foot, his eyes flicking to the other Genin with a competitive hunger.
"Only three teams made it on the first day," Izumi murmured, her voice barely audible. "Two more arrived moments before us, already processed." She gestured subtly with her head towards the exhausted Taki Genin. "Looks like their journey was less 'managed' than ours."
Ryuu's senses confirmed. The Taki Genin radiated not just physical exhaustion, but a profound weariness of spirit. The Kumo team, by contrast, projected an almost arrogant confidence, their victory clearly leaving them relatively unscathed.
Time stretched on, punctuated only by the low hum of chatter from the Kumo team and the subtle shifting of the exhausted Taki Genin. There was no comfortable place to sit, only hard, cold stone benches carved into the tower's interior. A stern-faced Suna Chunin stood watch by the door they entered, impassive.
Hours crawled by. The brutal logic of the exam was revealed not by direct instruction, but by the relentless progression of silence and scarcity. Food was scarce, water even more so. The Chunin provided only basic emergency rations from time to time – a strip of dried meat, a hard, bland biscuit. The available space, while large, quickly became a confined prison. The oppressive quiet intensified, punctuated only by the sporadic crunch of heavy outer doors signaling another team's arrival.
Each new team arrived in various states of disrepair. Injured, dehydrated, many carrying an overwhelming sense of loss or profound terror. Their chakra signatures were raw, untamed, their stories etched into their haggard faces.
They were processed by other Chunin, then directed into separate holding alcoves, away from the main hall.
"Five teams passed overnight," Izumi commented quietly on the second morning, watching a haggard group from Kusa being escorted into an alcove.
"Good," Renji muttered, not looking up from a chakra-control exercise. He had taken to pacing circles in their small designated section, keeping his limbs loose, constantly practicing silent footwork and drawing kunai.
The wait was a psychological torment. Meals were basic, unsatisfying.
By the dawn of the third day, the air in the main hall was thick with nervous tension. Ten more teams had filtered in, bruised and battered, filling the designated holding areas with the defeated. The number had reached the total anticipated for the exam. Twelve teams. Thirty-six Genin in total had survived the grueling second stage. The proctors maintained an impassive watch.
Suddenly, a presence. Sharper than Sōseki, more defined, a hard-edged calm that spoke of innate authority and unwavering power. Ryuu's senses flinched, not from hostility, but from the sheer, contained strength.
A new figure appeared at the central dais. This was Baki.
He was tall, lean, his face covered by Suna's distinctive sand-colored scarf and a traditional suna hitai-ate. But the eyes—piercing, obsidian-black, unwavering in their intensity—were unmistakable. His posture radiated lethal competence, a weapon sheathed but always ready.
Surprisingly, his attire was different from the one Ryuu remembered from the story, though that in itself wasn't odd.
"Genin," Baki's voice was a low, resonant rumble. "You have survived the Demon Desert. Many have fallen. This arena," he gestured with a precise hand to the massive battlefield diagram, "awaits your final performance. You will be divided into two opposing forces, Crimson and Azure."
A hush fell over the room, every Genin leaning forward, absorbing every word.
"The objective is simple," Baki continued. "Capture the central flag and defend it for thirty minutes, or eliminate all enemy shinobi. Lethal force is permitted. Surrender results in elimination. Incapacitation results in elimination." He looked from face to face, his gaze seeming to strip away facades, peering directly into their cores. "We evaluate skill, tactics, and adaptability in a fluid, unpredictable battlefield."
Then came the part everyone dreaded. "Teams will be assigned by random allocation. Your former affiliations hold no weight here. You fight with who you are given." He gestured, and Suna Chunin approached with two baskets, one holding crimson armbands, the other azure.
A Chunin approached their corner. "Izumi Uchiha." The Chunin held out an armband. "Azure."
Izumi's simply nodded, equipping the armband.
"Renji Kazama." The Chunin presented another armband. "Azure."
Renji grunted, accepting the armband.
"Ryuu Yuki." The Chunin offered an armband. "Crimson."
Ryuu took the armband. Crimson. Opposite his own teammates. A direct confrontation was now a definite possibility. His mind spun, already recalibrating.
This changed everything.
His strengths in water and wind jutsus, and especially his sensory abilities, would need to be leveraged without Izumi's instant confirmation, without Renji's reliable close-range distraction. He would be forced to lead, or at least strategically direct, complete strangers.
They were escorted to separate staging rooms, thick stone doors slamming shut with a dull thud. Ryuu's room was sparsely lit, filled with eight other Crimson-armbanded Genin. He was instantly surrounded by unfamiliar faces, a motley crew.
He spotted an older, broad-shouldered Genin with rough Iwa features. A quiet girl from Kumo with heavy eye-makeup, an Inuzuka from Konoha, his companion dog whining softly by his leg, an arrogant-looking boy with elaborate face paint from Taki, a lanky Genin from Kusa with wary eyes, and a few other nondescript figures.
He performed a quick, unobtrusive sensory sweep, gathering initial impressions. None seemed overtly capable of coordinating, or strategizing beyond brute force or basic defensive posturing. The inherent bias of randomized teams.
Baki's voice echoed through hidden speakers, devoid of warmth. "Each team will now appoint a temporary leader. The leader will receive final tactical instructions from my proctors."
A cacophony of nervous whispers erupted. The Iwa Genin immediately stepped forward, trying to assert dominance with gruff commands. The Taki boy, brimming with misplaced confidence, started barking orders.
Ryuu remained silent, standing slightly apart. He didn't want direct leadership, not yet. He observed, soaking in the chaos, judging. His internal calculations told him these were precisely the variables that undermined effective teamwork. This environment demanded raw, analytical insight, not the bluster of false authority.
The temporary leaders, quickly appointed through a chaotic blend of self-proclamation and begrudging consensus, were given a curt nod by a Suna Chunin. The Iwa Genin, the stout, older boy from Ryuu's staging room, seemed to have taken charge of Crimson, loudly bellowing a basic 'spread and flank' strategy.
On the Azure side, Ryuu glimpsed Renji arguing with an aggressive Kumo shinobi who seemed determined to be the team's spearhead, while Izumi observed quietly, probably already assessing the myriad weaknesses and strengths of her impromptu allies.
"Begin!" Baki's resonant voice sliced through the tension, triggering a sudden, collective surge of movement.
The arena erupted. Figures in crimson and azure blurs scattered, converging, clashing. The air filled with the grunt of taijutsu, the hiss of kunai, and the low roar of basic ninjutsu.
Sand kicked up in blinding clouds, mingling with dust from crumbling stone structures.