Chapter Text
Sakura sat on the balcony attached to her bedroom, her knees drawn up to her chest as she watched the sunrise gradually chase away the remnants of night. The colors of the dawn—soft pinks, deep oranges, and the faintest hint of blue—blended together in a way that always made her feel a little more at peace. The air was cool and crisp, filling her lungs with a freshness that made everything seem possible, if only for a moment.
This balcony had become her refuge, a small piece of the world that belonged only to her. Here, she could escape the noise, the expectations, the endless cycle of missions and training. From this spot, she could look out over Konoha and feel connected to the village in a way that was hard to put into words. It was more than just the view; it was the sense of belonging, of being part of something larger than herself. She loved to watch the people of Konoha go about their day, inventing stories for them in her mind. It was a habit she had developed as a child, a way to feel closer to the world around her. But lately, those stories had taken on a different tone—less about fantasy, more about the small, quiet truths she had begun to notice.
Her thoughts drifted to the afternoon she had spent with Shikamaru. It had been so different from what she was used to. With Naruto, everything was always loud and chaotic, a whirlwind of energy that left her feeling both exhilarated and exhausted. Sasuke, in contrast, was a constant puzzle—distant, intense, his presence like a shadow that never quite let her relax. But Shikamaru… he was something else entirely. There was a calmness about him, a kind of quiet that wasn’t empty but full of thought, of understanding. It was almost unnerving how easy it had been to just sit with him, to not feel the need to fill the silence with words. She found herself wondering what he thought of her now. Did he still see her as the girl she used to be? The one who clung to Ino like a lifeline, desperate to prove herself, or the girl who had been so consumed by a crush on Sasuke that she had lost sight of everything else?
Sakura sighed, resting her chin on her knees. She wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to her what Shikamaru thought. It wasn’t as if they were particularly close, at least not in the way she was with Naruto. But something about the way he looked at her—thoughtful, almost appraising—made her want to prove that she had changed. That she wasn’t the same girl who had once let herself be defined by a love that had never really existed.
Her thoughts wandered to the Torture and Interrogation department, where she had been spending more time lately. The assignment Ibiki gave her had been intense, challenging her in ways she hadn’t expected. It was dark, difficult work, and she knew that some might think she wasn’t cut out for it. But she had been determined to push herself, to see how far she could go. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what Shikamaru would think if he knew. Would he see her as too troublesome for such a role, someone who was out of her depth? Or would he recognize the determination that drove her, the need to prove—perhaps to herself more than anyone—that she was capable of more than just standing on the sidelines?
The Chunin Exams were looming, and with them, the anxiety that had been building in the back of her mind. She had been working so hard, pushing herself to grow, to become stronger, but the doubts were always there, lurking just beneath the surface. Was she really ready? Could she truly hold her own against the best Konoha had to offer? She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She had to believe she could. There was no other option.
As the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the trees, Sakura stood up, feeling the cool wooden floor of the balcony beneath her bare feet. She wasn’t just the girl she had been a few months ago. She was more than that now—more determined, more focused, more willing to face the challenges ahead.
With a final glance at the rising sun, she turned and walked back into her room. There was so much to do, so much to prepare for, and she couldn’t afford to waste time second-guessing herself. Tomorrow, the Chunin Exams would begin, and she would be ready. She had to be.
As she moved through her room, gathering her gear, her mind kept circling back to Shikamaru and that quiet afternoon they had shared. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t the only one who had noticed a change. But for now, all she could do was focus on what lay ahead and trust that everything else would fall into place.
Walking into the T&I building, Sakura squared her shoulders, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. Between team training, her own individual exercises, and the one day she had spent shopping with Ino—“Your style is still just so basic. Let’s find you something a little more bold!”—Sakura had been working diligently on the assignment Ibiki-sensei had given her. The perpetrators in the cases were all some kind of deranged, and at least three of the ten seemed to derive pleasure from the pain rather than fear it. But she could see it—the patterns, the ticks, the little things that made them talk. She’d written a detailed synopsis of her findings, and now it was time to see if she was on the right track.
The hallways of the T&I building were dimly lit, the air heavy with an aura of secrecy and tension. The scent of old paper, ink, and something metallic lingered in the air, reminding Sakura that this was a place where the truth was extracted, often by any means necessary. As she approached Ibiki-sensei’s office, the sound of her sandals against the stone floor seemed to echo unnaturally, amplifying her anticipation.
Knocking softly on the heavy wooden door, she entered the office when she heard Ibiki’s gruff voice beckon her inside. The room was just as she remembered—sparse, functional, and devoid of any warmth. The walls were lined with shelves crammed with files, each one holding secrets that most would rather remain buried. Sakura carefully closed the door behind her, feeling the weight of the room’s atmosphere settle over her.
Taking a seat, she pulled the files and her report out of her satchel, placing them neatly on the desk before her. She waited quietly as Ibiki continued to fill out paperwork, his pen moving methodically across the page. The silence in the room was palpable, broken only by the soft scratching of pen on paper.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ibiki set his pen down and looked up, his sharp eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made Sakura sit up a little straighter. “Good morning, Sakura-san,” he greeted her, his voice carrying a weight that demanded respect. “I assume you’re here to turn in your assignment?”
“Yes, Ibiki-sensei,” Sakura replied, carefully sliding the documents across the desk toward him. “It took me some time, but I believe I’ve provided an accurate synopsis.”
Ibiki raised an eyebrow at the honorific, a flicker of surprise crossing his usually impassive face. He picked up the files and began flipping through her report, his gaze narrowing as he absorbed the information. The room fell into a hushed silence as he studied her work, each page turned with deliberate care.
Sakura watched him closely, her heart beating a little faster as she tried to gauge his reaction. This wasn’t just about proving herself to him—this was about proving to herself that she belonged here, that she had the potential to contribute in a meaningful way.
After a long pause, Ibiki set the report down and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. His dark eyes bore into hers, searching for something beyond the surface. “This is good,” he finally said, his voice gruff but tinged with approval. “You’ve managed to identify several key patterns, and your analysis is thorough. However, there are a few cases where you missed the mark.”
Sakura felt a mix of relief and determination. “Where did I go wrong, Ibiki-sensei?”
He reached for the report again, flipping to a specific page. “Here,” he pointed, “in this case, you identified the subject’s fear of physical pain as their breaking point. But you overlooked their fear of isolation, which was actually the key to their confession. Sometimes, what they don’t say is more important than what they do.”
Sakura nodded, absorbing the correction. “I see. I’ll pay more attention to that in the future.”
Ibiki’s gaze softened slightly, though his tone remained stern. “There’s a lot of potential in your work, Sakura. With more experience, you’ll learn to pick up on these subtleties. Don’t rush the process—let the details reveal themselves to you.”
She couldn’t help but feel a small surge of pride at his words. “Thank you, Ibiki-sensei. I’ll keep that in mind.”
He leaned back further in his chair, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. “Tell me, Sakura, why are you interested in T&I? This line of work isn’t for everyone, especially for someone with your background. So why pursue this?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with significance. Sakura hadn’t expected Ibiki to ask her directly about her motivations, and for a moment, she hesitated, unsure how to put her thoughts into words. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage before speaking.
“Ever since I started training as a shinobi, I’ve wanted to be more than just... average,” she began, her voice steady but introspective. “I know I don’t have a famous clan name or a bloodline limit to rely on, so I have to work harder to make a difference. When you mentioned my potential for genjutsu and how it could be useful in T&I, something clicked for me. I realized that this might be a way for me to contribute in a meaningful way—to protect the village and make sure the people who want to harm it don’t get away with it.”
Ibiki listened carefully, his expression unreadable but attentive. “So, it’s about proving yourself?” he asked, his tone probing.
“Partly,” Sakura admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But it’s also about using the skills I’ve worked hard to develop. If I can help prevent threats to the village, then I want to do that. And... I’m good at reading people. I’ve always been observant, and if I can use that to uncover the truth, then it feels like the right path for me.”
Ibiki was silent for a moment, his gaze narrowing slightly as he considered her words. Then, to her surprise, he gave a small nod of approval. “You’ve thought this through,” he said, his voice still gruff but with a hint of respect. “That’s good. T&I isn’t for everyone, and it requires a certain mindset. But if you’re willing to put in the work and stay true to that conviction, you might just have what it takes.”
Sakura felt a surge of determination at his words. “Thank you, Ibiki-sensei. I won’t let you down.”
“See that you don’t,” he replied, though there was a faint hint of a smile on his lips. “Now, let’s go over your report in detail.”
He began to explain where she went right and what she got wrong, offering insights and corrections that were invaluable. Sakura absorbed everything, mentally noting where she could improve. The discussion was thorough, and Ibiki’s explanations were clear, though he didn’t shy away from being critical where necessary.
When he was done, he reached for another stack of files—this one considerably thicker and more worn. “Your next assignment is going to be a bit different,” Ibiki began, his tone shifting to something more serious. He placed the files in front of her, each one labeled with dates going back several years. “These are cold cases, some of the toughest ones we’ve never been able to close. They involve missing persons, unsolved homicides, and even suspected traitors who vanished without a trace.”
Sakura felt a shiver run down her spine as she looked at the files. The weight of the responsibility he was placing on her was almost tangible. These weren’t just theoretical exercises—these were real lives, real people who had been lost or hurt, and the answers were still out there, buried under layers of time and secrecy.
“I want you to create profiles for the potential perpetrators,” Ibiki continued, his voice unwavering. “Look for patterns, connect the dots that others might have missed. These cases are cold, but that doesn’t mean they’re impossible to solve. Use your intuition, your analytical skills, and see if you can bring something new to the table.”
Sakura carefully picked up the files, her mind already racing with possibilities. Each file represented a puzzle, a mystery waiting to be unraveled. It was daunting, but she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement at the challenge. “When do you want these back, Ibiki-sensei?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “There’s no rush. The Chunin Exams are coming up, and I know that will take up most of your time. Focus on your training for now. You can return to these when you have a chance. But remember—these aren’t just for practice. If you find something, it could change everything for the families involved.”
Sakura nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “Understood, sensei.”
Ibiki’s eyes flickered with a momentary surprise at her continued use of the honorific, but he quickly masked it with a slight nod. “Good. You’re dismissed, Sakura.”
As she stood to leave, a thought crossed her mind, and she hesitated. “Ibiki-sensei,” she said, her voice a little softer now, “thank you for this opportunity. I know I still have a lot to learn, but I’m really grateful for your guidance.”
Ibiki gave her a rare, approving nod. “You’ve got potential, Sakura. Don’t waste it.”
With that, Sakura left the office, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. She exited the building with a small smile on her face, clutching the new assignment to her chest as she made her way back home, ready to tackle the challenges ahead.
The next day, Sakura found herself standing with her team at the entrance of the academy, her heart a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it—the Chunin Exams. The gateway to becoming a stronger shinobi, a test of their abilities, and hopefully, the start of their journey toward promotion. The familiar building loomed before them, its doors holding the promise of challenges and opportunities they had yet to face. She glanced at her teammates, a smile tugging at her lips. They were all so different—Sasuke with his cool detachment, Naruto with his boundless energy, and herself, somewhere in between—but they stood together, united by their shared determination.
“Come on, you guys. Let’s show them what Team 7 brings to the table,” Sakura said, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. With a quick motion, she tied her hair up into a high ponytail, a habit she had developed to keep it out of her face during combat. Whatever awaited them inside, she intended to face it head-on, prepared and focused.
“Hn. None of these other teams can compare to us,” Sasuke responded with a smirk, a rare display of camaraderie from the usually aloof Uchiha. His eyes gleamed with confidence, the prospect of proving himself in the exams fueling his determination.
“Yeah! Let’s do this, believe it!” Naruto added, his exuberance shining through as he punched the air with enthusiasm. His grin was so wide it was almost contagious.
Sakura couldn’t help but giggle at their contrasting personalities. Despite their differences, they made a good team, and she was proud to stand alongside them. With that thought, they walked inside, the familiar corridors of the academy bringing back memories of their time as students. It felt strange to be back, but there was no time for nostalgia. They had a mission.
As they ascended the stairs, Sakura’s sharp eyes caught something off. They were on the second floor, yet the sign above the door read “301.” A subtle smirk curved her lips. “Genjutsu,” she whispered to her teammates, who nodded in understanding. The hall was crowded with other genin teams, many of whom were falling for the illusion, arguing and pushing to get past the guards stationed in front of the door.
“Let’s just try to get past the group without being noticed,” Sasuke suggested in a low voice. “No need for them to know we have a member who’s nearly immune to genjutsu.”
Sakura and Naruto agreed, and they moved to slip past the crowd, trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves. They had almost succeeded when one of the "guards" suddenly shoved a boy in green spandex and a bowl-cut to the ground. The boy had the bushiest eyebrows Sakura had ever seen, and despite the fall, he looked more determined than hurt, his face set in a frown of concentration.
The two guards, disguised as children with oversized clothes and exaggerated youthful features, sneered down at the fallen boy. One had a bandage wrapped around his head, covering his nose and part of his face, while the other had a small bandage on his cheek. Their expressions were twisted with mockery, clearly enjoying the power they held in the situation despite their unassuming appearances. They looked like children who had somehow grown into their clothes too fast, with wide eyes that seemed almost comically oversized, but their smirks were anything but innocent.
“You’re taking the Chunin Exams and can’t even get past us? Go home and cry to your mommy,” sneered the one with the bandage on his head, his voice dripping with disdain. His eyes narrowed with cruel amusement as he looked down at the green-clad boy, who was struggling to get back on his feet.
A girl with brown hair tied in twin buns rushed forward to help the boy. “Please let us through,” she pleaded, her voice strained with a mixture of frustration and concern. But when she tried to push past them, she was met with a harsh punch that sent her stumbling back, clutching her shoulder in pain.
The guards continued to berate the group, their sneers growing more pronounced as they mocked the other genin. “Delicate little girls like you have no place here. Go home and play with your dolls,” one of them jeered, his voice grating against Sakura’s nerves. The words struck a nerve, her hands clenching into fists as she felt a surge of anger.
Before Sakura could react, Sasuke stepped forward, his eyes narrowing with irritation. “Real nice speech. Now let us through,” he demanded, his voice cold and commanding. “And while you’re at it, how about you reverse the genjutsu you cast? We’re going to the third floor.”
The crowd around them murmured in confusion, some realizing the truth while others remained skeptical. Whispers spread through the group, uncertainty and doubt mingling with the tension in the air.
“Well, well. You noticed the genjutsu,” one of the guards said with a mocking smile, his tone laced with condescension.
“Sakura here has the sharpest eyes and the best analytical skills on our team. She noticed the genjutsu the moment we entered the floor,” Sasuke added, his voice calm but with an underlying tone of pride. His words were deliberate, and though his expression remained stoic, the subtle acknowledgment in his tone spoke volumes.
Sakura blinked in surprise, warmth spreading through her chest. Sasuke wasn’t one to hand out compliments lightly, and he never said anything he didn’t mean. Feeling a surge of confidence, she allowed herself a small, proud smile. “Of course, I spotted it a mile away,” she said smugly, enjoying the moment.
The guard with the bandage sneered, clearly irritated by their confidence. “Well, aren’t you the smart one? How about you deal with this!” He lunged forward, and in an instant, he and Sasuke were set to exchange mutual roundhouse kicks.
Before the blows could land, the green-clad boy from before darted between them, catching their ankles in his hands. Sakura’s eyes widened in amazement. ‘He’s fast. I didn’t even see him move.’
The guard flipped away, glaring at the newcomer, who released Sasuke’s ankle and turned to face him. Another boy, with long brown hair and the pale eyes characteristic of the Hyuga clan, stepped forward alongside the girl with buns. His gaze was calm and assessing, taking in the situation with a cool detachment.
“What happened to keeping a low profile?” the Hyuga boy asked, his voice calm but with a hint of reprimand. “It was you who wanted to avoid showing off our skills.”
The green-clad boy, now identified as Rock Lee, seemed to ignore his teammate’s words as he turned his attention to Sakura. His cheeks flushed pink, and he walked straight up to her with a determined expression, his eyes wide with admiration.
“My name is Rock Lee,” he said, his voice earnest and sincere. “Your name is Sakura, right?”
“Huh?” Sakura was taken aback, unsure of where this was going.
“Please, be my girlfriend!” Lee declared, winking and giving her a thumbs up. “I vow to protect you with my life!”
Sakura stared at him in disbelief, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find the right words. “Um...no...thank you,” she finally managed, trying to let him down gently. Her mind was still reeling from the suddenness of the proposal, her heart racing from the unexpected turn of events.
“Huh? Why not?” Lee asked, his face falling as if genuinely puzzled by her refusal.
“Because...you’re a weirdo,” she replied, unable to think of a better excuse. She was still growing as a person, after all, and tact wasn’t always her strong suit. The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she winced inwardly at how harsh they sounded.
Naruto burst out laughing, the absurdity of the situation too much for him to contain. His laughter echoed through the corridor, only adding to the tension in the air.
The Hyuga boy, who had been watching the exchange with growing impatience, turned to Sasuke. “Hey, you. What’s your name?” he asked, his tone sharp and demanding.
Naruto’s laughter died down, replaced by a scowl as he silently fumed at being overlooked.
“It’s common courtesy to provide your own name when asking for someone else’s,” Sasuke replied coolly, his eyes narrowing as he met the Hyuga’s gaze. There was an unspoken challenge in his tone, a subtle assertion of his own strength.
“You’re a rookie, right? How old are you, anyway?” the Hyuga boy pressed, clearly irritated by Sasuke’s nonchalant attitude. His eyes flashed with annoyance, his stance shifting as if preparing for a confrontation.
“I’m not inclined to answer,” Sasuke said dismissively, turning away as if the conversation no longer interested him. His tone was casual, almost bored, as if he found the Hyuga boy’s questions beneath him.
The Hyuga boy’s expression darkened, his hands clenching at his sides. “What was that?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
But Sasuke had already moved on, walking back to Sakura and Naruto. Naruto, still standing next to Rock Lee, looked annoyed by the lack of attention.
“Hey, Naruto! Sasuke! Let’s go!” Sakura called, her voice bright with excitement as she tried to lighten the mood. She grabbed both their arms and began dragging them down the hall, determined to keep them focused on the task at hand. “Come on, we have an exam to pass!”
Sasuke protested, trying to shake off her grip. “Hey! Don’t pull me, Sakura,” he grumbled, but she ignored him, her grip firm as she led them down the corridor towards a courtyard.
As they rounded the corner, a newly familiar voice called out to them, stopping them in their tracks. “Hey, you, with the attitude.”
They turned to see Rock Lee standing on the upper landing, his expression serious and determined. He locked eyes with Sasuke, and the tension in the air thickened.
“What do you want?” Sasuke asked, irritation clear in his voice.
“I want to fight you, here and now,” Lee declared, jumping down to meet them. His eyes were focused solely on Sasuke, a fierce determination burning in their depths. “I challenge you, Uchiha Sasuke.”
Sasuke’s eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You think you can take me on?” he asked, his tone dripping with arrogance. The challenge was clear, and neither of them was willing to back down.
Sakura’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched the tension between Sasuke and Rock Lee reach its peak. The air around them was charged, every muscle in her body tensing as if she were the one about to fight. This wasn’t just a simple sparring match—this was a clash of wills, a test of their abilities and determination. She could feel the seriousness of the moment, knowing instinctively that whatever happened next would set the tone for the Chunin Exams. As if to emphasize the gravity of the situation, she noticed that the Hyuga and bun-haired girl from before had also arrived, their eyes focused intently on the unfolding battle.
Sasuke stepped forward, his usual calm demeanor giving way to a spark of excitement that Sakura rarely saw. His Sharingan eyes glinted with anticipation, the red tomoe spinning lazily as he locked his gaze on Lee. There was something about this boy that intrigued Sasuke, and that worried her. Lee wasn’t just some eager genin looking to show off—he was fast, really fast. Even with her limited experience, Sakura could tell this wasn’t going to be an easy fight for either of them.
“So, you think you can take me on?” Sasuke taunted, a smirk curling his lips as he assumed his battle stance. His confidence was palpable, almost infectious, but Sakura couldn’t shake the unease settling in her stomach.
Lee didn’t flinch. His focus was absolute, his gaze locked onto Sasuke with a determination that sent a shiver down Sakura’s spine. “This isn’t about thinking, Uchiha Sasuke. This is about proving the power of hard work.”
There was no more time for words. Lee moved, and Sakura barely had time to register his disappearance before he reappeared in front of Sasuke, launching a kick aimed straight at his midsection. Her breath caught in her throat. He was so fast, she hadn’t even seen him move.
Sasuke managed to dodge, but only just. His Sharingan flared, and he countered with a punch aimed at Lee’s shoulder, but Lee evaded effortlessly, spinning away like it was nothing. They were a blur of movement, exchanging blows so quickly that Sakura could barely keep up. She had known Sasuke was strong, but this was different—this was a real test, and she could see that Sasuke was giving it everything he had.
“His speed… it’s unreal,” Sakura whispered to herself, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear. She glanced at Naruto, who was uncharacteristically quiet, his attention completely absorbed by the fight. Even he could tell this was on a different level.
The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed in the courtyard, punctuated by the occasional grunt of exertion. Sasuke was pushing himself, using every ounce of skill and strength he had, but Lee wasn’t giving an inch. He moved with a fluidity that seemed almost impossible, his body a blur of green as he danced around Sasuke’s attacks.
Sakura’s mind raced as she observed the fight. ‘Sasuke is amazing, but Lee… he’s something else. If this is what the other teams are capable of, how will we fare in the exams?’ The thought gnawed at her, but she quickly pushed it aside. They were Team 7, and they had overcome every challenge so far. They could handle this too—couldn’t they?
Then, in a moment of terrifying clarity, Sakura saw Lee’s strategy unfold. He wasn’t just fast—he was relentless. He was wearing Sasuke down, forcing him to react rather than attack. And it was working. She could see the strain on Sasuke’s face, the way his breaths were coming quicker, the faint glimmer of sweat on his brow. Lee was pushing him to his limits, and it was only a matter of time before something gave.
In the heat of the fight, Sasuke’s Sharingan eyes narrowed, tracking Lee’s every move, but it was clear he was struggling to keep up. Lee’s speed was unlike anything Sasuke had encountered before, and the tension in the air was palpable. Suddenly, Lee paused, his stance shifting as he straightened up.
He looked back at Sasuke with a calm yet intense expression. "Sasuke, my speed isn’t something you can match easily. My training... is unlike anything you've faced."
Without another word, Lee’s figure blurred, moving so quickly that it seemed like he had disappeared. He reappeared almost instantly behind Sasuke, his fist hurtling towards Sasuke's back with blinding speed. Sakura gasped, her body tensing, eyes wide in shock. Sasuke barely managed to twist his body, narrowly avoiding a direct hit. The force of the air pressure alone from Lee's fist was enough to ruffle Sasuke’s hair, showcasing the sheer power and speed that Lee wielded.
But just as Lee was about to strike, a blur of green and blue cut through the air, and suddenly there was someone standing between them, holding Lee’s fist with an effortless grip. The man who had intervened was tall and muscular, with a bowl-cut that mirrored Lee’s, and thick eyebrows that rivaled even his student’s. His green jumpsuit was identical to Lee’s, and his presence was so commanding that it instantly drew everyone’s attention.
“That’s enough, Lee!” the man commanded, his voice filled with an authority that left no room for argument. He didn’t even look fazed by the speed or force of Lee’s attack, holding him back as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
Lee’s eyes widened in shock, and he quickly stepped back, bowing his head in respect. “Guy-sensei! I-I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
The man—Guy-sensei—released Lee’s fist and placed a hand on his shoulder, his stern expression softening into a smile. It was a strange contrast, the way his face could go from stern to almost fatherly in an instant. “Lee, you’ve done well, but remember what I’ve always taught you. There is a time and place for everything. Save your strength for the exams.”
Lee nodded, looking chastised but also relieved. “Yes, Guy-sensei.”
Sakura watched the exchange with a mix of awe and confusion. Who was this man? He had appeared out of nowhere, and yet he commanded such respect from Lee. And there was something about him, something in the way he carried himself, that told her he was far more than just a jounin. This was someone powerful, someone who had shaped Lee into the formidable fighter he was.
Guy then turned his attention to Sasuke, who was still catching his breath. “You’re quite skilled, Uchiha Sasuke,” Guy remarked, his tone friendly yet respectful. “But Lee’s training is… unique. It’s designed to push him beyond the limits of most shinobi.”
Sasuke, despite his exhaustion, met Guy’s gaze with a nod, acknowledging the compliment. “I’ll remember that,” he replied, his voice steady but laced with determination. This encounter had clearly left an impression on him, and it was evident that he was already thinking of ways to surpass the challenge Lee had presented.
Guy smiled, his eyes twinkling with pride. “I’m sure you will. But for now, save your energy for the trials ahead. The Chunin Exams will test you all in ways you’ve never imagined.”
With that, Guy turned to lead his team away, but not before giving Lee an encouraging pat on the back. “Come, Lee, Tenten, Neji. Let’s go. We have much to prepare for.”
Sakura blinked, filing away the names. So, the girl with the buns and the other boy with the stern expression were Tenten and Neji. She couldn’t help but be curious about them. If they were on the same team as Lee, they must be strong, too. Her thoughts wandered briefly to what kind of training they must have undergone to reach this level of skill.
As Sakura stood there, trying to process the intense fight she had just witnessed between Rock Lee and Sasuke, she felt her heart rate gradually returning to normal. But just as she started to regain her composure, something utterly unexpected happened.
Rock Lee, who had just been scolded by his sensei, suddenly turned his full attention back to Sakura. His expression was no longer intense or determined, but rather... lovestruck? His large, round eyes softened, and before she could even comprehend what was happening, he clasped his hands together in front of his chest and sent her a gaze so full of admiration and affection that it was almost palpable.
Sakura blinked, completely caught off guard. Then, to her utter bewilderment, Lee literally sent hearts flying towards her with every beat of his gaze. They floated through the air, a pink, shimmering trail of love-struck energy that left Sakura speechless.
“Please, Sakura-san,” Lee said, his voice filled with heartfelt emotion. “Allow me to express my deep admiration for you! I will protect you with my life, and I vow to cherish you always!”
Sakura felt her face flush, not with the warmth of reciprocated affection but with pure, unadulterated panic. “Um...” she stammered, taking a step back as the hearts floated ever closer. She frantically waved her hands in front of her, trying to dodge the barrage of love, which only made the situation even more awkward.
“I-I’m flattered, but... no thank you!” Sakura managed to blurt out, her voice pitched higher than usual in her desperate attempt to deflect Lee’s unexpected advances. She quickly ducked, narrowly avoiding a particularly large heart that seemed determined to reach her.
Lee looked momentarily crestfallen, but his spirits rebounded almost immediately. He gave her a thumbs-up and a determined wink, his enthusiasm undiminished. “Your beauty and spirit are unmatched, Sakura-san! I will continue to strive to win your heart!”
Sakura, who was now crouched low to the ground, looked up at him with wide eyes, unsure whether to laugh or cry. “Please... don’t,” she whispered under her breath, hoping this would be the end of it.
Naruto, who had been watching the entire scene with an expression of utter disbelief, finally burst into laughter. He doubled over, clutching his sides as tears of mirth streamed down his face. “Sakura-chan, you’ve got a real fan there!”
Sasuke, on the other hand, looked completely unimpressed. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, clearly irritated by the entire spectacle. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, turning away in exasperation.
As Lee’s team prepared to leave with their sensei, Lee sent one final, adoring look in Sakura’s direction. She managed a weak smile, still crouched on the ground, silently hoping that this wouldn’t become a recurring event.
When they finally walked away, Naruto was still snickering, while Sasuke seemed lost in thought, his irritation giving way to contemplation about the fight.
Sakura, for her part, slowly stood up and dusted herself off, mentally adding Rock Lee to the growing list of unexpected challenges the Chunin Exams were throwing her way. She sighed deeply, grateful that the ordeal was over but also slightly embarrassed by how it had all unfolded.
As they headed up the stairs, she couldn’t help but think, “Well, at least the Chunin Exams won’t be boring.”