Konoha smelled of rain and stone.
Haku entered the village gates with Kaede and Renga at his sides, their Mist headbands gleaming faintly in the gray light. To most, they were just another genin squad arriving for the Chūnin Exams. To Haku, they were shadows walking into the heart of a story he already knew.
The guards checked their papers carefully. Mei Terumi's signature carried weight—enough to make the chunin clerk swallow and wave them through. Still, ANBU masks tracked them from the rooftops. The air felt watchful, cautious, like every corner hid another eye.
"Everyone's staring," Renga muttered under his breath, one hand brushing the hilt of his cleaver-sword.
"Because you walk like you're ready to cut someone," Haku replied softly. "Relax."
Kaede didn't speak. His sea-colored eyes flicked once to a shadow across the street, then back ahead. "ANBU, two rooftops east. Another near the awning. They're watching us more than others."
"They should," Haku murmured. "We're strangers."
The streets wound with life—vendors shouting about skewers, children darting through puddles, banners hung for the Exams. Yet beneath the noise, Haku heard the rhythm of a village holding its breath. Jōnin moved with casual weight, civilians glanced too quickly away. Konoha smiled, but steel pressed underneath.
They reached their lodging by the river—a modest inn. Kaede took the window room, Renga the door, without needing orders. Haku checked the walls with careful chakra pulses. No seals, no threads. Good. He set their packs down and unrolled the parchment Ren had given him. Public orders: represent Kirigakure. Private orders: eyes open, ears sharper, and above all—survive the storm.
The next morning, they joined the crush of foreign teams filing into a wide hall. Proctor Ibiki stood at the front, scars deep on his head, eyes sharper than knives.
"Written test," he barked. "Ten questions. Wrong answers hurt your score. Get caught cheating, you lose more. Final question decides everything."
The room shifted uneasily. Genin weren't supposed to be tested like students.
Kaede slid into his seat like a soldier to a post. His pencil scratched quietly, his left hand tapping a coded rhythm on his desk. Haku felt the signals under his fingertips—correct answers, discreetly shared. Efficient.
Renga scowled at his paper, scratching wildly. Haku leaned just enough to murmur, "Don't fight the test. Endure it."
Renga grunted but calmed. Haku turned back to his sheet. He already knew this wasn't about knowledge—it was about pressure. Who could steal, adapt, endure without breaking.
When the tenth question came, Ibiki's gaze swept the room like a blade. "If you take it and fail, you never become a chūnin. If you walk away now, you can try again next year. Decide."
Whispers broke out. Some teams bolted. Haku's hand stayed steady. Kaede didn't flinch. Renga leaned forward, jaw set.
"We stay," Haku said quietly. "All three."
Ibiki's smile was thin, almost approving. "Then you pass."
Confusion rippled, then understanding. It had been a test of resolve all along. Haku didn't smile. Resolve was the one thing he had never lacked.
The second exam came with rain and a wide clearing. Proctor Anko Mitarashi grinned like a knife as she explained: "You'll have five days to reach the tower in the center of the forest. You need both Heaven and Earth scrolls to pass. Fail to get them? You're out. Die in there? That's your problem."
The gates clanged open. Teams vanished into the trees.
Haku's squad moved quickly but carefully. "Kaede, traps first. Renga, guard the rear. We don't waste strength."
The forest was alive with predators—human and otherwise. One team from Grass tried an ambush. Renga smashed their cover apart, roaring. Kaede's wires snapped tight, tangling legs before they could flee. Haku ended it with a kunai at the leader's throat, but left them breathing. Nonlethal. Eclipse discipline.
Later, a Rain squad cornered them near a stream. Haku touched the water with a single seal—thin frost spread just enough to make the reflection shimmer wrong. Their strikes missed by inches, disoriented. In the confusion, Kaede's wires tripped one and Renga sent the other flying into a tree. The last dropped their scroll.
Heaven and Earth. Complete.
"Two days left," Haku said. "We move direct."
By the fourth day, they stood at the tower gates, tired but whole. Inside, proctors logged their scrolls and waved them into a hall filled with other survivors.
Too many survivors.
The Preliminaries.
The Hokage himself appeared with the proctors. Hayate coughed into his sleeve, then said, "There are too many of you. We'll cut down numbers with preliminary matches. One on one. Lose, and you're out."
The tension in the hall spiked. Haku's gaze flicked across the room. Sasuke Uchiha's eyes burned with quiet arrogance. Naruto Uzumaki's grin didn't hide nerves. Gaara stood silent, sand whispering around him like something alive. This was no child's game. Not anymore.
Match 1: Renga vs Shino Aburame.
Renga strode forward, cleaver-sword gleaming. Shino adjusted his glasses calmly, insects already humming.
Renga pressed hard, blows cracking the tiles. Shino yielded space, precise, letting bugs land unnoticed. Renga's swings slowed, body heavy. His sword dropped to his knee.
"You're drained," Shino said simply.
Renga snarled but couldn't lift his blade. The proctor called it. Renga stomped off, cursing under his breath. Haku caught his arm. "You lasted. That's enough." Renga nodded once, jaw tight.
Match 2: Kaede vs Tenten.
Kaede entered silent, wires hidden in his sleeves. Tenten grinned, scrolls ready. Weapons rained down, glinting.
Kaede snapped wires, redirecting kunai into walls. For a moment it looked like a perfect counter. Then Tenten's scrolls flared again, doubling the barrage. Shuriken cut Kaede's arm, another his leg. He slipped, and Tenten's storm pinned him flat.
Proctor: "Winner, Tenten!"
Kaede rose without protest, bowed stiffly, and left the floor. His silence unnerved the crowd more than anger could.
Match 3: Haku vs Kiba Inuzuka.
Kiba grinned, Akamaru barking at his heels. "You're done, pretty boy."
Haku only inclined his head.
The match began with a whirlwind—Fang Over Fang tearing the floorboards. Haku's body flowed aside, graceful. He flicked a hand; a sheen of ice glazed the tiles, making Kiba's spin skid wide. To the crowd it looked like slick water. To Haku, it was careful Hyōton disguised.
Akamaru lunged. Haku parried, careful not to hurt him. Kiba followed, but Haku's kunai touched his throat before he could land.
Gasps rippled through the hall.
"Winner, Haku."
Kiba muttered curses, scooping up Akamaru. Haku bowed politely. Inside, his pulse was calm. Mission intact.
Sasuke's victory sharp but strained. His chakra flow flickered oddly.
Neji crushed Lee despite Lee's astonishing speed. Haku admired Lee's resolve.
Gaara annihilated a Sound genin without effort, sand swallowing screams. Haku's Sharingan flickered, memorizing every twitch of Gaara's chakra. Dangerous.
At last, the list of finalists appeared. Haku's name glowed among them. Kaede and Renga were gone, eliminated, but they stood behind him, loyal as ever.
Renga growled, "We'll guard you from the stands. Don't screw it up."
Kaede said nothing, but his hand rested briefly on Haku's shoulder—a silent vow.
Haku's eyes swept the other finalists. Sasuke, Naruto, Neji, Gaara. Weapons of different kinds, all pointed at the future.
Only one of us needed to stand here, he thought. The rest was smoke and mirrors. And the storm hasn't even begun.
That night, back at their inn, Haku wrote a coded note and burned it to ash. Ren would know what it meant:
Mission intact. Final stage reached. Eyes on the storm.
Outside, the village lights flickered like stars. The Finals were one month away.