Small Conflict
"Did I say anything wrong, little sister?"
The speaker appeared to be around twelve or thirteen, but his large frame and rotund build immediately called the Akimichi clan to mind. His wide grin, however, carried a chilling undercurrent.
He had been boasting to a group of fellow Genin, when a sharp laugh from nearby interrupted his tale, throwing a wrench into his confident façade.
"You clearly don't understand genjutsu," came the blunt reply. "I don't know exactly what that petal technique is—but it's definitely not what you claimed."
The voice belonged to Kurama Clan's Hong (Kurenai Yuhi), who stood with Asuma Sarutobi subtly shielding her. Her tone grew increasingly firm as she defended her point, unaware that the boy's face was darkening with each word.
"Kazuhiro, looks like you know even less than a little girl," one of his companions jeered.
The fat Genin, Kazuhiro, already quick-tempered, turned crimson with anger as his teammates chuckled. Their teasing only fueled his temper.
"What do you know, fresh out of the Academy? Don't speak when you don't understand!"
Enraged, Kazuhiro shoved Asuma aside and grabbed Hong by the collar—pure schoolyard thuggery.
Asuma, caught off guard, hit the ground hard. Before he could recover, Kazuhiro had lifted Hong slightly off the ground.
"Picking on a girl? You want a fight with me instead?"
A calm but cold voice came from behind.
Kakashi Hatake was already behind Kazuhiro, standing back-to-back with him. His right hand held a short tantō blade in reverse grip, the tip resting just beneath Kazuhiro's thick neck. The steel pressed into the folds of his flesh, making the threat undeniable.
In his rage, Kazuhiro hadn't even noticed being flanked—his bloodlust made him careless. He froze.
Kazuhiro was no slouch; he'd passed the second stage of the Chūnin Exams. But Kakashi was on another level entirely.
"Ah!"
A sharp cry escaped Kazuhiro as searing pain flared in his right wrist—the one gripping Hong's collar. His grip went limp. The girl dropped, but Asuma caught her just in time, cushioning her fall with his back.
"You're yelling already? I haven't even used real force yet."
The voice belonged to Bai Ye.
A visible green aura swirled around his limbs—the unmistakable energy of the Eight Gates technique. His hand clamped tightly around Kazuhiro's wrist, muscles tense, veins bulging unnaturally. He was clearly furious.
He had arrived just a moment after Kakashi, having seen Asuma get shoved and Hong manhandled. Without hesitation, he'd entered the first Gate and charged in.
"What... happened here?"
Yu Yan arrived slightly late, catching sight of Kakashi and Bai Ye subduing the large Genin. Around them, tension simmered. Everyone seemed ready to leap into another brawl.
A few meters away, Orochimaru watched the scene with interest, lips curled into an amused smile. He tilted his head toward his companion.
"You're not going to stop this, Jiraiya?"
"It's their fight," Jiraiya said after a moment, letting out a sigh. "Sometimes kids need to work things out without our help."
"...My teammate was reckless. I apologize on his behalf."
Kazuhiro's companions, seeing neither Kakashi nor Bai Ye relenting, finally stepped forward to de-escalate. They bowed slightly, sincere enough—none of them had expected Kazuhiro to fly off the handle like that.
"I'm sorry," Kazuhiro grunted through clenched teeth. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping onto the flat of Kakashi's blade. Bai Ye's grip hadn't loosened an inch.
Only after hearing the apology did Bai Ye ease his hold. Kazuhiro's wrist was swollen and blotchy with bruises.
"It's fine. Let it go," Asuma muttered. He caught Bai Ye's glance and gave a small nod. It wasn't worth dragging out. Everyone here was from Konoha. Disputes like this had happened plenty of times in the Academy.
Still, he winced slightly. Bai Ye's grip had nearly crushed Kazuhiro's hand—he didn't hold back.
Kakashi sheathed his blade with a flick. The edge passed so close to Kazuhiro's neck that he instinctively clutched it afterward, feeling for blood. Fortunately, there was none.
Face pale and pride shattered, Kazuhiro retreated with his teammates. Moments ago, he'd strutted with confidence as someone who made it to the third round. Now, he looked utterly defeated, humiliated by two younger peers.
As he left, Bai Ye deactivated his Gate, his energy dissipating. He exhaled and turned to Yu Yan.
"So... what actually happened?"
"You've got no idea what's going on and still went that hard on him?" Obito asked, half-joking. "Yue's the only one in your squad who's not a walking weapon."
"I saw Asuma get knocked down and reacted. Guess I overdid it."
Asuma huffed in mild frustration. He didn't like being saved like that, but he had to admit—he hadn't expected Kazuhiro to lash out so violently in front of elite jōnin.
Hong, a little embarrassed, finally spoke. "I might've started it by laughing at him. I didn't think he'd get that mad..."
"By the way, Bai Ye... those pink petals you used during the second round—what were they?"
Hong's question brought the group back to the source of the tension: Bai Ye's unknown technique, which had unsettled even experienced Genin like Yu Yan.
Everyone nearby leaned in, curious.
"Now, I'll announce the rules for the third round."
Orochimaru's voice rang out, cutting through the murmurs. He appeared in the center of the arena with theatrical timing, grinning like a performer stepping on stage.
Groans followed. Everyone quietly blamed Orochimaru for picking the worst possible moment.