The
Forest of Death
had turned into something unrecognizable. Deep, jagged scars stretched for miles, trenches carved through the earth as if a god had swung his blade across the land. The towering trees that once provided cover were gone—either vaporized into splinters or uprooted and thrown aside like discarded toys.
And at the center of this destruction, standing amidst the chaos with a sword dripping in residual energy, was
Youyu.
His breath was heavy, but not from exhaustion—
from rage.
His fingers flexed around the handle of his sword, knuckles white from the grip. His red-tinged gaze scanned the surroundings, searching, hunting.
A shinobi from one of the outer villages had dared to spill his
last bottle of wine.
And now, they would all pay for it.
A dull roar built in his throat before he suddenly swung his blade.
A
dark purple arc of energy
erupted from the edge, cutting through the landscape like a hot knife through butter. The sheer force sent shockwaves tearing through the ground, creating another abyss that stretched for miles.
"You bastards from outside the village! Where the hell are you hiding?!"
The air vibrated with his voice, carrying his fury across the ruins of what had once been a dense, thriving forest. His
thirst
clawed at his insides, the need for another drink growing unbearable. His
drunken rage
demanded satisfaction, and if he couldn't have alcohol, then he'd drown his frustration in blood.
Somewhere, hiding beneath the broken remains of what used to be a sturdy rock formation, a pair of terrified shinobi from the
Hidden Mist
clung to the dirt, trying to keep their breathing quiet.
"Did you see that?"
Haneda Kaito whispered, sweat dripping down his face. His pulse hammered against his ribs, adrenaline flooding his system as he stared at the canyon-sized scar cutting through the land just a few feet away.
Next to him,
Kisame Hoshigaki
pressed a bloodied hand to the gaping wound running across his chest. His usual predator-like grin was gone, replaced with a clenched jaw and eyes that flickered with something rare—
uncertainty.
That
thing
out there wasn't a normal shinobi.
It wasn't even just a strong opponent.
It was a monster.
And it was hunting them.
A few hours ago, Kisame had been excited. He had heard rumors about this so-called "genius" from Konoha, this drunken fool who had somehow skipped the first exam and entered the second round of the Chūnin Exams unchallenged.
He had wanted to test him.
The moment Youyu saw them, his expression barely changed. His gaze was
distant, unfocused—almost indifferent.
Then he had muttered,
"No little red flower? Then go to hell."
And
swung his sword.
A
slash—several meters high—tore through the air.
Kisame had reacted instantly, flooding the area with a
lake's worth of water
using one of his strongest techniques. The sheer volume of it should have swallowed everything whole.
Instead, it was
split in two.
His mind refused to accept it. His eyes
saw
it, but his instincts screamed that it was impossible.
A lake.
A whole damn lake.
Cleaved apart like it was nothing.
His teammate had been obliterated on the spot.
Not even a corpse remained.
If Kisame hadn't been shoved aside at the last second, he would have suffered the same fate.
Even so, the mere shockwave of the attack had nearly
torn him in half.
Blood had poured from his wound as he and Kaito
ran.
And now, they were
trapped.
Another explosion rocked the area. The cavern they had been hiding in cracked under the force, sending a cascade of rubble down around them.
"We can't stay here," Kaito whispered, helping Kisame to his feet.
The larger shinobi clenched his teeth, suppressing the pain. He had
never
run from a fight before. Not like this.
But this wasn't a fight.
This was
survival.
Another
dark purple arc
sliced through the sky, and the remains of their shelter
collapsed.
The two Mist shinobi barely made it out before the entire rock formation caved in. Kaito gasped for air, but then he
froze.
His breath hitched. His fingers trembled.
He turned his head, his stomach twisting into a tight, sickening knot.
Behind them...
A mountain.
A
goddamn mountain
had been split in half.
A jagged, seared wound ran through its core, still smoldering with energy.
The realization settled in.
"If we had stayed even one second longer..."
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Then, finally, Kisame let out a deep, shuddering breath.
"We need to leave. Now."
For the first time in his life,
Kisame Hoshigaki ran.
Meanwhile, in Konoha's Observation Room...
The elite shinobi monitoring the exam had long abandoned any pretense of calm.
"This isn't an exam anymore," one of them muttered, gripping the table.
"It's a massacre."
A Hidden Rain jōnin swallowed hard, his face pale. "That—That technique... It's impossible. Right? It has to be some kind of illusion."
No one answered him.
A
chilling silence
hung in the air.
On the screen, the
Forest of Death
was barely recognizable. Chasms stretched for miles. Piles of debris replaced what had once been ancient trees. Blood splattered the broken earth, the remnants of unlucky shinobi who hadn't been fast enough to escape.
Even Jiraiya, one of the legendary Sannin, looked unnerved. He scratched the back of his head, forcing out a nervous chuckle.
"Damn, kid... You've got style."
His attempt at humor
did not
lighten the mood.
The representative from the
Hidden Cloud Village
slammed his fist against the table. "Three of our best have already been slaughtered! This is outrageous! You let a monster into this exam!"
"You Konoha bastards planned this, didn't you?!" another foreign jōnin accused, his voice rising with panic.
Sarutobi Hiruzen, up until now, had been silent.
His pipe had fallen from his hands. His expression remained neutral, unreadable.
But deep inside, his thoughts were racing.
"Youyu... what have you done?"
Back in the Forest of Death...
Youyu stood in the middle of the devastation,
breathing heavily.
The ground around him was carved into deep, jagged canyons. The air
hummed
with the lingering energy of his last attack.
And yet—
He
wasn't satisfied.
His
last bottle of wine was gone.
His head ached from
the lack of alcohol.
The
rage
inside him was still boiling.
His grip tightened around his sword.
"Damn outsiders... If I can't drink, then I'll just keep cutting you all down."
His eyes gleamed with
bloodlust.
And just like that—
he vanished.
Somewhere, deep within the ruined forest,
more foreign shinobi
were still hiding.
They wouldn't be hiding for long.
Author's Note:
How do you think the foreign villages are going to react to this? Declare war? Or pretend none of this ever happened? Let me know!