[Uzumaki Atagi]

The moment is freedom

Of course, the idea that he was quick enough, agile enough to perform the miracle of evading Saya’s tactically executed plan and being able to take action after was absurd to begin with. He manages to slip his arm free from the weight, which was good, because otherwise the damage to it would’ve been horrendous– ironically, he was very familiar with how much crushing pressure it would take to crush bone, to sever artery, to flatten nerve…

Despite him being able to do that much, that’s all he’s able to do. Saya stabs down, right into his shoulder, and Atai yelps, reaching to grab at it with his other hand, but knowing better than to try and grip a sword with naught but his bare hands. ”Urk!”

It wasn’t like he was completely out of the fight with just that, in theory. He still had a few slivers of chakra left, wasn’t mortally wounded, and definitely had the spirit for it. Hell, he was the type to tear his own body to shreds before giving up. But his back has been singed, he’s been worked down to exhaustion over the course of the exams, and now he had a sword pinning him down. He clicks his tongue in obvious derision. Frustration washes over him, hearing Saya’s threat, eyes flitting and head turning to see what it was. He recognized it, alright– the exact one he’d worried about prior to the match, her explosive seal. ”You can’t be seriously intent on blowing me to bits!”

He wants to believe that, of course. He and Saya weren’t best friends, but they were countrymen at worst, so would she really? Then again, he didn’t know her well enough, either. It wouldn’t be the first time a shinobi displayed an ‘anything to win’ mentality. The Uzumaki likely should’ve possessed more of that spirit, himself.

Still, it’s frustrating, it eats away at him. Could he really let it end like this? One more bad showing? Disappointing those that came to watch him, disappointing his newfound ally, disappointing himself? All the confidence and gusto in the world (and Atagi had both in spades) couldn’t get him out of this jam, nor could his unflagging determination to not give in. Looking lame yet again is something he detests, something he wants to avoid at any cost, but there’s nothing to be done about it.

Twice, he tries to jerk up into a sitting position, but the pain in his shoulder is too bad, and it’s simply not possible. He wants to call out to Seiji– but it seems like a bad idea, all told, to try and influence him either way. After all, he’s lost the right to do anything about the situation. In a real battle, a real life or death scap, he’d already be dead.

(Haruno Seiji Oborozuki Yuri Honō Saya)

aeron at thq

[Haruno Seiji]

Seiji could just make out what was transpiring between Saya and his comrade. He almost didn't have to look, as the trend of Saya's peerless execution continued. Without breaking a sweat the girl avoided leaving any openings and managed to defeat Atagi with ease and finality.

Meanwhile, facing down the Konoha nin, Yuri continued to make the right calls. It's like she could see right through him, her choice not to engage him or his clone the correct one. He'd already begun to suspect something was amiss earlier but the evidence only piled up that this was some cruel joke to pit the battle brothers up against a duo that was so vastly their superiors as to guarantee Seiji and Atagi would be unable to mount any meaningful offense. They'd been on the back foot from the start, every attack turned aside or simply dodged. They didn't stand a chance.

These were conditions, however, that Seiji could live with. He didn't care if he won or lost the fight, only that he tried his best and put on a good show. To him, that was the whole purpose behind these combat rounds; to show leaders you had the toolkit needed to take on greater responsibilities. Winning the fights was just a nice little gold star you could put on your resume but didn't amount to much actual value. Like bragging about your middle school GPA during a job interview.

But, as Saya pulled off her next stunt, a deep conflict boiled within Seiji. From his gut, a feeling of disgust and concern battled, but only hatred could surface. Atagi's form lay crumpled on the ground, bloody, battered and struggling to stay conscious with fraying threads of commendable stamina, and on it Saya sealed the fate of the match.

Even if the explosive was nothing more than a cheap firework, it'd been placed square on the chest of a young man that had worked himself half into the grave. If it went off, Seiji was sure Atagi would die. Maybe to Saya that was an acceptable risk for that gold star, but not for Seiji. To let her try and kill the Uzumaki who scraped at the earth around him, trying to gain any semblance of balance with blood pooling at his mouth and his eyes searching for savior, would be to forsake his entire self. There was no deliberation. Before Seiji, his clone began to shatter and fall apart into dust and muddy structure that melted into nothing. His arm raised, open and unthreatening, as he turned his focus to a proctor in the stands.

"Stop this before it's too late." His voice was loud, echoing over the silence that was offered for his response, but it was shaky with fear for his friend's life; panic. "I didn't come here to watch a murder." He didn't look at Saya; he couldn't bear to. He didn't want to know what the honey-yellow gaze of someone so ruthless and cold, so willing to do anything to win as to threaten the life of her own comrade, looked like. Not here, anyway. Seiji had prepared to meet killers like her on the battlefield long ago. He just didn't expect to witness it today, from an ally, in a glorified spar.

He spat, his eyes touching Yuri's for a second. "The things we do for a fucking promotion."

@y'all

[hirana kizumi]

Even as Saya issued her ultimatum, as Atagi cried out in frustration, as Seiji called for aid with the tremor of panic in his voice: a Kumogakure shinobi was already on the move. Omori, by the look of his eyes, black sclera and pupil with an eerie ring of vibrant white. He flash-stepped into the arena with a plume of smoke, and as soon as his feet touched earth he was weaving two handseals and slapping a seal onto the wall of the arena: a Bomb Extinguish that rendered the explosive seal on Atagi’s chest inert. Only a moment later he flash-stepped again, placing himself as a barrier between Saya and Atagi, a physical deterrent to everyone present. "The match is concluded,” he said, "due to use of lethal force.” A pair of medics entered the arena as well; one withdrew the sword from Atagi’s shoulder and handed it back to Saya, while the other cut his tagged shirt away to safely dispose of at a distance. "The winners are,” the announcer called, quick to fill the silence that had hushed the crowd of spectators, "Hono Saya and Oborozuki Yuri! A brutal display of force against her own countryman, but you can’t deny it’s effective!” Saya and Yuri were unscathed but for the effort they’d exerted; Seiji and Atagi would both need medical care, and were taken off the field and into the care of the medics on duty. Atagi’s ailments would be handily fixed through deft applications of Mystical Palm to heal his wounds and Life Bond to stabilize his chakra levels. With no other challenges in the exams to come, no effort was spared in making sure that all of the participants were hale and whole; both Saya and Yuri were given ration pills. As this was the final match of the final round, there would be only the closing ceremony, after which point the participants would be allowed to return to their campsite to rest after a long and brutal day. [+1 VICTORY TO HONO SAYA] [+1 VICTORY TO OBOROZUKI YURI] [+1 CHEERING GIRLFRIEND TO UZUMAKI ATAGI] [+1 RIGHTEOUS FURY TO HARUNO SEIJI] questions? comments? concerns? leave your feedback here!

LAIKA OF THQ