บท 274: 272
Haruto watched as Daichi and Pakura faced off in the arena, his fists clenched at his sides. He had heard from Sakumo earlier that Shisui and Rasa would be recovering for weeks, and though he was relieved they were going to be okay, part of him was frustrated. He had wanted to face Shisui at his best. Now, that fight would have to wait.
"Damn it," Haruto muttered under his breath, his eyes flickering toward the arena. His frustration gnawed at him, but he quickly pushed it aside. The next fight was already starting, and he focused on the competitors.
Daichi Uzumaki, with his three shadow clones, was facing Pakura of the Hidden Sand. Both shinobi had proven themselves formidable, but this match felt different—there was tension in the air, a heaviness that weighed on everyone watching. Haruto could feel it. The crowd was silent with anticipation.
Daichi stood confidently, his red hair pulled back in a high ponytail. His usual grin was gone, replaced with a focused expression. He wasted no time, creating three shadow clones that flanked him on either side. His plan was clear—overwhelm Pakura with his Multi Water Whip Jutsu, just like he had done before.
Pakura, on the other hand, was eerily calm, her green eyes watching Daichi's every movement. She had been holding back during the exams, that much was clear, but Haruto had a sinking feeling that she wasn't going to do so today.
The referee's hand dropped, signaling the start of the match.
Immediately, Daichi and his clones leaped into action, forming hand seals in unison. "Multi Water Whip Jutsu!" they shouted. The air was filled with the sharp crack of water whips as they lashed toward Pakura from every direction. Each Daichi wielded two whips, making it a total of eight water whips attacking her at once.
Pakura dodged and weaved with expert precision, avoiding the first few strikes. But the onslaught was relentless. One of the water whips slashed across her arm, drawing a thin line of blood. Another whip grazed her side, tearing her cloak. Pakura winced but remained composed. She was faster than most opponents Daichi had faced, but the sheer number of attacks was pushing her to her limit.
For a moment, it seemed like Daichi had the upper hand. His clones worked together, their movements coordinated and sharp. Each whip moved in perfect synchronization, leaving Pakura with little room to counterattack.
But then, Pakura's eyes narrowed. She had taken a few hits, but Daichi's strategy was predictable. She raised her hand, and the air around her shimmered with heat. Suddenly, a small orb of intense, radiant energy appeared in her palm. The crowd gasped as the temperature in the arena rose.
Pakura hurled the orb at Daichi's clones, and the moment it made contact, the clones evaporated into steam. The heat from the orb was so intense that the water whips vanished, leaving Daichi standing alone. He created three more clones almost instantly, refusing to let up on his assault. But it was clear that Pakura was no longer holding back.
Daichi lashed out again, the water whips snapping toward Pakura with renewed force. She dodged two, but one whip caught her across the leg, sending her stumbling back. Daichi pressed his advantage, his clones moving in for the kill. But Pakura, with a cold expression, raised her hand once more.
A larger orb of intense heat appeared, and she threw it toward Daichi with deadly precision.
The orb hurtled through the air, and Daichi's eyes widened as he realized it was aimed directly at him. He tried to dodge, but it was too fast. The orb struck him square in the chest, sending him flying backward. The force of the hit knocked the wind out of him, and he hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. His clones disappeared in puffs of smoke as the heat seared through his clothes, burning into his skin.
Haruto's heart sank as he watched Daichi struggle to get up, clutching his chest in pain. Pakura wasn't playing anymore. This was a battle for dominance, and she wasn't holding back.
But Daichi wasn't done yet. He pushed himself to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain. His chest was scorched, but his determination hadn't wavered. He formed more hand seals, creating three new clones. Together, they launched another volley of water whips at Pakura.
Pakura dodged, but the whips kept coming. One caught her across the shoulder, another across her back. She winced but stood her ground. Her eyes flashed with irritation, and Haruto could see she was done playing defense.
Without hesitation, Pakura summoned another orb of heat, this one larger than before. She hurled it directly at Daichi's chest, her intent clear. The crowd held its breath as the orb slammed into Daichi, striking the same spot as before.
This time, Daichi couldn't stand. The force of the attack sent him crashing to the ground, the heat burning through his clothes and into his skin. He lay there, gasping, his body trembling from the pain. Blood trickled from his mouth, and his vision blurred as the referee rushed forward.
But she formed another small hitting Daichi again while he was on the ground.
"Enough! Winner—Pakura of the Hidden Sand!" the ref ran up trying to stop Pakura.
Pakura lowered her hand, her expression cold and unreadable as she turned and walked off the field. The crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and murmurs, unsure of how to react to the brutal conclusion of the match.
Medical ninjas rushed out to Daichi's side, their hands glowing with healing chakra as they worked to stabilize him. Daichi, usually full of life and jokes, was motionless, clearly in excruciating pain. His leg twitched slightly, but his body was limp as they lifted him onto the stretcher.
Haruto's jaw clenched as he watched Daichi being carried off the field. He had fought well—held his own against an opponent who clearly had more power than she initially revealed. But Pakura had crossed the bottom line.
Haruto let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing as he watched Pakura disappear from the arena. His thoughts drifted to his own match.
Tomorrow, it would be his turn. Pakura would be waiting for him, ready to do the same to him as she had done to Daichi. He could feel the tension, the weight of it bearing down on him as the crowd started to disperse. But Haruto wasn't nervous. His anger had settled into something colder, sharper.
As he walked out of the arena, the thought crossed his mind, clear and undeniable.
How would the timeline change when he cut the bitch's head off tomorrow?
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