From somewhere in the room, a quiet sob broke the silence, followed by the shuffling of yet another partit surrendering to the invisible weight pressing on their shoulders. The sound grated on Naruto’s ears.

  *Quitters,* he thought bitterly.

  At the edge of his visioiced Hinata trembling, her eyes darting toward the door. For a moment, it looked like she might stand up, but then she g Naruto, her expression softening as if drawing strength from his determination. Naruto caught her gaze and gave her a faint, fident grihat said, “We’ve got this.”

  Elsewhere, Sasuke sat like a stoatue, arms folded and tilted in fidence, as if Ibiki’s threats were nothing more than background noise. Beside him, Sakura’s brow creased with worry, her pencil paused midair, but she wasn’t budgiher.

  And then there was Xero, still doodling in the back. If he’d felt any fear, he certainly didn’t show it. His peched a dramatic se of Ibiki as a monstrous ogre dev helpless ninjas, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. If subtle defiance were an art form, Xero was its undisputed master.

  Ibiki noticed the ughter bubbling in the er of the room and started toward Xero’s desk, his boots pounding against the wooden floor. The soft rhythm of his footsteps silehe room, leaving nothing but the sound of breath held collectively as the proctor approached.

  Xero stopped doodling immediately, shoving his pencil uhe paper as though it might hide his crimes. Ibiki loomed over him like a vengeful specter, his expression unreadable. For an agonizing moment, Xero thought the hammer would fall, but instead, Ibiki turned his head just slightly and growled, “Time’s running out, brat. I suggest you stop pying games.”

  “Yes, sir,” Xero muttered, sinking deeper into his chair as Ibiki stalked away, leaving a trail of dread in his wake.

  Naruto watched the whole exge with gritted teeth, his heart pounding in defiahe sheer unfairness of it all g him. These questions weren’t just difficult—they were impossible for someone like him. He wasn’t book-smart like Sakura or naturally sharp like Sasuke. He was just… Naruto. A, something about the proctor’s challe a fire in him, ohat refused to be extinguished.

  *They’re trying to weed us out,* he realized. *This is all a trick to see who take the pressure.*

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and gring at his untouched paper as though it were his greatest enemy. The silence was maddening, punctuated only by the tig clo the wall, each *tick-tock* a cruel reminder of time slipping away.

  Ibiki spoke again, his voice cutting through the air like a kunai. “For those of you still sitting here, I end your determination. But don’t fet—failure has its price. If you ck the resolve to ehis now, you have no pce as a in.”

  Another chair scraped against the floor, its sharp screech eg through the room. The didate who stood looked broken, their shoulders slumped and face pale as they trudged toward the door.

  Naruto’s jaw ched. He could feel his own resolve hardening, like steel tempered in a fe. He wasn’t the smartest or the stro, but he *would* be the most stubborhought of his dream, the faces of everyone in the vilge who doubted him, and the promise he’d made to himself to never give up.

  Ibiki’s gaze nded on him for a fra of a sed, those dark, pierg eyes like twin drills b into his soul. Naruto met the stare head-on, refusing to look away.

  “Good,” Ibiki murmured, almost too quietly to hear, before moving on.

  Around him, the room felt heavier than ever, but Naruto sat up straighter, his heart pounding with a newfound resolve.

  *Bring it on,* he thought. *I’ll fight through whatever you throw at me. I’m not going anywhere, believe it.*

  The clock tio tick, but for Naruto, it wasn’t a tdown to failure. It was a tdown to proving them all wrong.

  ---

  Kuro’s pencil paused pletely now, held lightly between his fingers as though he had all the time in the world. His sharp eyes darted from team to team, watg the intricate, almost artistic way some partits bent the rules without breaking them ht. To most, the room was a quiet sea of anxious students scratg answers onto their papers, but to Kuro, it was alive with hidden currents—eae a testament to the iy of desperate minds.

  At the far er, a student preteo drop his pen, the tiny motion pulling the attention of his teammate, who mirrored the movement as if retrieving their own. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Kur for what it was: a carefully coded exge of information. Elsewhere, two students tapped faint rhythms against their desks—pletely meanio anyone listening, unless, of course, they khe cipher.

  Kuro smirked. *Cheating isn’t a failure here—it’s a skill.*

  His gaze settled once more on Sasuke, whose Sharingan burned faintly crimson, pupils spinning zily like a predator toying with its prey. Sasuke’s eyes locked onto a student two rows ahead, his movements synized perfectly, like a puppet and its master. The other student had no idea they were unwittingly sharing their answers, but Kuro caught it immediately.

  “Clever,” Kuro murmured, the word slipping out as a mix of genuine admiration and amusement. He tilted his head slightly, watg Sasuke’s pencil scratch methodically against his paper. *Not perfect, though,* he thought. *Too noticeable if someone’s paying attention.*

  Then there was Hinata. Kuro’s eyes flickered to her just in time to see the faint veins swell arouemples—her Byakugan now active. She sed the surrounding papers with an efficy that bordered on grace, her expression posed, betraying no ay uilt. It wasn’t fshy like Sasuke’s method, nor did it draw attention. It recise, quiet, and far more impressive in its subtlety.

  *Smart girl,* Kuro thought approvingly, though he allowed no hint of praise to show on his face.

  His wandering gaze finally found Naruto, and Kuro nearly snorted aloud. The blond ninja was a whirlwind of frustration and fidgeting, his pencil h hopelessly over his paper like it might spontaneously provide answers. Naruto’s muttered curses and exaggerated sighs were enough tres from the proctors, but he didn’t seem to care. Every few seds, Naruto gnced around furtively, as if hoping inspiration—or answers—might magically appear in thin air.