Chapter 41: The Annual Genin Tournament

As the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the towering walls of Sunagakure, Kankuro stood at the entrance of the arena, his expression tense as he watched the children gather. Usually filled with laughter and excitement, today's arena buzzed with anticipation and anxiety. Young aspiring Shinobi, eager to showcase their skills and find teachers to guide them, were oblivious to the lurking danger that Kankuro had sensed.

Draped in his Kazekage robes, Gaara made his way to the front entrance, Sakura walking beside him. Her smile, though warm, was forced, meant to keep the families calm. No one needed to know they were the target of an imminent attack.

With her hand on her hip, Sakura broke the silence. "Why do you keep the truth about the Phantom Kidnapper and the attacks on the village children a secret?"

Kankuro frowned, crossing his arms. "That's a burden I have to bear. It's for everyone's safety."

Sakura let out a small chuckle, imagining herself wrestling the truth from him. "One of these days, I'll make you spill."

Kankuro laughed awkwardly. "You're welcome to try, but I'd rather not end up buried alive in Gaara's sand."

Temari approached, her short blonde hair spiking in the wind just then. Concern clouded her face. "Are you sure about this, Kankuro? The kids could end up in the middle of this."

Kankuro nodded. "Normally, I wouldn't drag all of you into this, but today could be the day we finally catch the Phantom Kidnapper."

Sakura rolled her eyes, avoiding Gaara's gaze. "I know. I had to beg for a front-row seat to face the jerk who nearly blew me up. Gaara's been on high alert ever since the hospital incident."

"Forgive me for trying to keep you safe," Gaara muttered. "I thought you'd want a break after being hit with debris, but here you are, running toward danger again."

Kankuro chuckled. "To be fair, Gaara, we all chose to be here."

Temari nodded. "That's right. If we're not here to protect the children, who will? So, what's the plan?"

"We'll keep things looking normal," Kankuro explained. "Gaara, you'll sit in the stands as usual with Sakura by your side as your Advisor. Temari and I will patrol the children's lockers and hallways once the event begins, watching for anyone suspicious. If we spot someone, we wait until we catch them in the act—no jumping the gun."

"And if that fails and something goes off unexpectedly?" Temari asked.

Kankuro nodded gravely. "Then we shift to ensuring everyone's safety while Gaara and Sakura track down the culprit from the Kazekage booth. It gives you both the perfect view of the entire arena."

Temari sighed but gave a determined nod. "Alright. Let the games begin."

Before the group split up, a team of Jonin arrived to escort everyone to their assigned stations. Sakura felt a flicker of relief seeing so many prepared, but deep down, she knew it might not be enough to stop whoever was behind these horrific attacks.

As Kankuro turned to leave, he glanced at Sakura and said, "Be careful out there. Don't get caught in the explosion."

She nodded, waving as Kankuro and Temari walked away to patrol the stadium's hallways. Though she outwardly projected calm, her nerves buzzed beneath the surface. Staying composed was her most potent weapon for now.

Standing beside her, Gaara gently squeezed her hand as he watched his siblings disappear with the Jonin. He said in a quiet, serious tone, "We'll be in the booth at the top of the stadium, but that doesn't mean we're any safer. Be extra careful today."

Sakura smiled slightly. "I've got more than sand at my disposal, Gaara. You don't need to worry."

Gaara's expression darkened for a moment. "I thought the same thing when Deidara attacked... but that didn't stop what happened." He glanced at the sky, memories of his near-death experience and Granny Chiyo's sacrifice weighing on him. He would never forget that second chance.

Sakura leaned in, kissing his forehead gently. "If anyone can pull this off, it's you. We'll make it through—together."

Gaara nodded, regaining his focus, and followed her into the windy tunnel leading into the stadium.

Sakura stepped into the tunnel leading to the arena, the wind rushing through her long, black, wavy hair as it billowed behind her. Gaara, dressed in his pristine white Kazekage robes, walked beside her, his expression stoic yet focused. The stadium loomed ahead, buzzing with the noise of excited villagers gathered for the event. Standing ready at the entrance, a few Jonin quickly acknowledged their presence with respectful nods, then guided them to the booth on the top floor.

As they made their way through the stone passageway, the shadows flickering from the lights outside, Gaara exchanged a glance with Sakura. "Make sure to stay alert," he whispered to the nearest Jonin. "We can't afford any slip-ups today—not with the recent attacks on the children."

The Jonin nodded firmly, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Understood. We'll keep watch for any suspicious activity."

They continued toward the booth when suddenly, a figure caught Sakura's eye. The man from the Land of Rivers walked casually through the crowd by them. His light blue hair was neatly cropped, and his pale blue eyes gleamed under the stadium lights. He wore a tan sand robe, blending almost seamlessly with the other spectators. The man moved naturally, with a slight smile, clearly pleased to see them, as he offered a quick nod before turning to walk away.

Sakura's eyes narrowed her instincts instantly on edge. "Gin…" she muttered under her breath.

Gaara had noticed, too. His gaze sharpened, tracking Gin's movements. There was no reason for him to be there—at least none that made sense. The way he casually tried to blend in and the ease with which he appeared had alarm bells ringing in Sakura's mind.

"Why is he here?" Gaara's voice was barely more than a whisper, his eyes narrowing as they followed Gin.

Sakura's gaze stayed fixed on Gin as he vanished into the crowd. "I don't know, but it's no coincidence."

Spotting them, Gin casually waved, knowing full well he'd been noticed. With an easy smile, he strolled over to greet them. "Hey, you two! Long time no see. How have you been?"

Gaara's expression didn't shift. His tone was calm but edged with suspicion as he replied, "We're fine. But what are you doing here? Outsiders don't typically attend events like these. They're meant for us to evaluate potential Genin for the coming year."

Gin scratched the back of his head, offering a crooked smile as he avoided Gaara's gaze. "Yeah, well, my village is usually pretty dull. I like to swing by here whenever I can. You know, explore a bit while I'm on missions. I was actually planning to hit up the market event, but, well, I heard it... exploded, so that's off the table."

Gaara's eyes remained on him, unblinking. "So, watching children train is like a spectator sport to you?"

Gin chuckled, flashing a bright grin. "You could say that. Anyway, I'm looking forward to the event. See you around." With a wave, he turned and headed toward the arena seating, where parents, family members, and Shinobi gathered to observe the hopefuls.

Sakura and Gaara exchanged a silent glance as Gin disappeared into the crowd again.

"What do you think he's planning?" Sakura whispered, her voice low with tension.

Gaara narrowed his eyes, keeping his gaze on Gin. "Keep him under surveillance," he ordered his Jonin quietly. "He may be here to kidnap a child."

The Jonin nodded, immediately splitting from the group to follow Gin from a distance, their movements subtle despite ANBU already stationed nearby. The remaining Jonin guided Sakura and Gaara to the top-level booth overlooking the arena.

Gaara sat in the Kazekage's royal chair while Sakura stood beside him, ever vigilant. Below them, the arena buzzed with excitement, the crowd's energy palpable as the tournament was about to begin.

Baki stepped forward in the center of the field, his commanding voice booming through the stadium. "Welcome to the annual Genin Tournament!" he announced proudly. "Today, we witness the future protectors of our village—the next generation of Shinobi from the Land of Wind. For our first match, we have Juro versus Daichi!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, but Sakura's mind was elsewhere, focusing on Gin and what sinister plan might unfold beneath their noses.

The arena buzzed with excitement as Juro and Daichi stepped onto the battlefield. The contrast between them was striking—Juro, with his long black hair and flowing red scarf, exuded a quiet intensity, while Daichi's confident stride and twin white fans hinted at his mastery over wind chakra.

Juro's red scarf billowed dramatically in the breeze, its length clearly indicating his unique combat style. His tan pants and plain brown shirt made him appear unassuming, but those who knew him understood that the cloth he wielded wasn't just for show. It was his weapon.

On the other hand, Daichi looked ready to strike at any moment, his short brown hair barely ruffled as he quickly spun his two fans. The Sunagakure symbol painted on each fan gleamed under the midday sun, a sign of his loyalty to the village and his ambition to become a Genin. He wore a light brown jumpsuit, practical and fitted for battle, his eyes fixed on his opponent.

The two stood at opposite ends of the battlefield, the tension in the air thick as they prepared to fight. The crowd's roar faded as the focus narrowed to these two, each representing a different path to power.

Baki's voice boomed once more from the center of the arena. "Let the battle begin!"

Daichi was the first to move, flicking his fans open swiftly. A sharp gust of wind followed, aimed directly at Juro. The force was powerful enough to blow sand and dust across the field, reducing visibility.

But Juro was prepared. His red scarf came alive, whipping through the air as he manipulated it with his chakra. The cloth extended outward like a serpent, wrapping itself around the wind and deflecting the blast, sending the sand scattering harmlessly to the sides.

"Not bad," Daichi muttered, flipping backward to create more distance. He swung his fans again, sending multiple gusts of wind at varying angles, hoping to catch Juro off guard.

Juro remained calm, his hands moving fluidly as he guided his scarf through the air. The crimson cloth snapped and coiled precisely, cutting through the wind like a blade. He charged forward, the scarf wrapping around Daichi's leg like a trap, trying to pull him off balance.

Daichi grunted, slamming one of his fans into the ground. A burst of wind erupted below him, breaking Juro's hold and propelling him into the air. Hovering above the battlefield, Daichi grinned. "You'll have to do better than that."

Juro narrowed his eyes and leaped, the red scarf unraveling to its entire length. It shot toward Daichi like a spear, intent on grabbing him in mid-air. Daichi spun both fans in unison, creating a powerful vortex of wind that pushed the scarf away, forcing Juro back to the ground.

The crowd cheered as the two young Shinobi continued their clash. Each move was met with a counter, each attack more creative than the last. Daichi's mastery over the wind gave him mobility and unpredictability, but Juro's scarf was a relentless, ever-changing weapon that seemed to have a life of its own.

Sakura crossed her arms and smirked as she watched the match unfold. "These kids are impressive," she said, her tone genuinely admiring. "They've barely scratched the surface of chakra control, but they've got potential. How are they this skilled already?"

Gaara, sitting beside her, observed the arena with a calm expression. "Many of them weren't as lucky as you. The ones who fight with such intensity are often orphans or the children of strong Shinobi. They've had to learn to survive independently, just as you did."

Sakura's smirk faded, replaced by a thoughtful look. "I didn't realize just how many orphans there were here. I guess I've blocked that part out… it's hard to face."

Gaara nodded. "I've tried to shield you from the darker realities of the Land of Wind. It's not something to be proud of." His voice was quiet, knowing how much he'd kept hidden from her over the years, shielding her from the weight of some of the village's darkest struggles.

The fight pressed on, and Juro saw his opening. He feinted with a scarf strike, causing Daichi to unleash a powerful gust from his fans to deflect it. But this time, Juro had anticipated the move. He tightened his grip on the scarf, which twisted at an impossible angle, slipping past Daichi's guard and wrapping tightly around one of his fans. With a sharp tug, Juro yanked the fan out of Daichi's hand and sent it flying across the field.

Daichi, now down one fan, was visibly frustrated but undeterred. With all his might, he swung his remaining fan, sending a final, concentrated blast of wind toward Juro. The attack was fierce, but Juro's red scarf curled around his body like a shield, absorbing the blow. In one swift motion, he unraveled the scarf and sent it flying toward Daichi, wrapping tightly around his torso.

The match was over.

Daichi struggled against the scarf but couldn't break free. He was trapped, and his wind chakra was no match for Juro's cloth manipulation at such close range. Baki stepped forward, raising his hand to signal the end of the fight. "Juro wins!"

The crowd erupted into applause, but watching from the booth, Sakura had her eyes elsewhere. Amidst the cheering and excitement, she spotted Gin in the stands. He wasn't watching the fight like everyone else—his gaze was focused, calculating. Something was wrong. Her heart raced as she saw him rise from his seat and slip into the shadows of the crowd.