Chapter 42: 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 beside Sakura, 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.

Standing guard at the entrance with Kankuro, Sakura leaned in and whispered, "Why is the Phantom Kidnapper targeting children? Why won't you tell us what you found out there?"

Kankuro crossed his arms, a deep frown settling on his face. "That's a burden I must carry—for everyone's safety."

Sakura shot him a frustrated look. "I love you, but sometimes I just want to strangle the chakra out of you."

Kankuro chuckled, his laughter wealthy and carefree. "I'd like to see you try."

As the wind tousled Sakura's long, wavy black hair, she smiled and said, "Remember when you brought me here on a date? You wanted to show off your Shinobi skills so that Granny Chiyo would take you on as her student."

Kankuro chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, not exactly my finest moment. I was desperate to prove to you and Granny Chiyo that I would become the village's greatest Puppet Master."

"And you did," Sakura teased with a soft giggle.

"I hope so," Kankuro replied

Just then, Temari approached, her short, spiked blonde hair flowing in the wind, her expression tense. "Are you sure about this? The kids could get caught in the crossfire."

Kankuro nodded solemnly. "Normally, I'd keep you out of it, but today might be the day we finally catch the Phantom Kidnapper."

Sakura rolled her eyes, avoiding Gaara's gaze. "I practically had to beg to get front-row seats to the guy who tried to blow me up."

Gaara's voice was calm but firm. "It's too soon for you to be back in the field, but I'm making an exception today because the three of us are here to watch over you."

"We're all here for the same reason: to catch the rogue," Temari added. "What's the plan, Kankuro?"

Kankuro straightened up, his tone serious. "We act as normal as possible. Gaara will take his usual spot in the stands with Sakura at his side as his Advisor and protector. Temari and I will scout the children's lockers and hallways while the event starts, watching for anyone suspicious. If we spot someone, don't do anything rash—wait until we catch them in the act."

"And if an explosion happens before we get a chance?" Temari asked, her voice edged with concern.

Kankuro nodded grimly. "In that case, our priority is to ensure everyone's safety. Gaara and Sakura will work from their vantage point in the Kazekage booth. It's high enough to give them the perfect view of the entire arena—ideal for spotting suspicious activity."

Temari sighed, her resolve hardening. "Alright then. Let the games begin."

Before the group parted ways, a team of Jonin appeared, guiding everyone to their assigned stations. Sakura felt slightly relieved at the additional help, though a nagging doubt lingered—would it be enough to stop whoever was behind these awful attacks?

Kankuro approached her, his hands gently clasping hers. He leaned in and whispered, "Be careful out there. Remember, you've got more than just a puppet in your arsenal now."

Sakura smiled softly. "I'll be safe up in the booth. You're the one who'll be on the front lines, so don't get careless."

Kankuro smiled back, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead before turning to leave. They both silently hoped this wouldn't be the last time they saw each other.

From the tunnel entrance, Gaara's calm voice broke the moment. "Are you coming?"

Startled, Sakura quickly turned around, forgetting her mission as her thoughts lingered on Kankuro. She hurried to catch up, her voice steady, saying, "Yes, I'm coming. Sorry, I was speaking with Kankuro before he left."

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 planning to hit up the market event, but 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 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.