The great arena was set near the village wall, on the opposite side of Konoha from Yukiko's building. It served three purposes: it held the full population of Konoha during important events such as the investment of a new Hokage; it provided a venue for official tournaments, both internal and international; and it became an ice-rink during the winter. Today it was fulfilling the second purpose.

Naruto slowed as he and Yukiko approached the arena walls, unsure of where to go. Yukiko firmed her grip on his hand and knocked on the side door that led to the contestants' area -- small bathrooms, two changing rooms, a first aid station, and a walled-off section of the lowest balcony ring, chosen so they could easily observe the other fights and reach the main floor for their own tests. Several rows of seats were reserved for the family and teammates of the participants.

A masked and robed Anbu guard opened the door and drew her shoulders into a disapproving posture. "Ayakawa Yukiko?"

Yukiko nodded.

"You're almost late," the Anbu said. She pointed at Naruto. "And what is that doing here?"

Naruto inched closer to Yukiko, his hand alternately clenching and loosening in her grip as if he couldn't decide whether to cling or run. Yukiko glared at the Anbu. "He is here as my family."

"You'd claim that as your blood?"

"Not blood, but family. There are no competing claims -- I have the legal right to adopt him. And," -- Yukiko hardened her glare -- "even if I didn't, I can still give family and team seats to whomever I want. Now let us through before I really am late."

The Anbu shrugged, but she stepped aside and closed the door behind Yukiko and Naruto. "Go up the stairs on the left," she said, "and hurry. They're nearly ready to assign numbers and determine the first match fights."

Yukiko led Naruto through the dim corridors, wondering for the thousandth time why nobody had ever bothered to paint the featureless concrete walls, or tile the stone floors in anything other than utilitarian squares. For a land as known for its flamboyant architecture as Fire Country, and for a people as patriotic as Leaf-nin, it was astonishing that nobody seemed to mind making such a drab impression on visiting ninja.

Hmm. Perhaps the next time she met with Sarutobi-sama to discuss Naruto's progress, she could mention sprucing up the arena. Some of her maintenance contractors did carving, painting, and fine carpentry on the side; she could probably work out a few feasible renovation plans with them and make a decent profit as the middleman and shinobi contact...

But not today, she reminded herself as she reached the balcony door and pushed it open; bright midday sun spilled into the stairwell and Yukiko automatically tugged Naruto into the shadows so they'd make less inviting targets. Tomorrow she could think about business. Tomorrow she'd be an apartment manager again.

Today, though... today she was a ninja.

Yukiko took a deep breath and stepped into the arena.

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The twelve genin competing in the third test stood in a group near the balcony walls. The jounin sensei stood nearby: one gray-shrouded Mist-nin, tall and stiff with folded arms; one petite Grass-nin with a diaphanous veil and claw-tipped gloves; a broad, bored-looking Leaf-nin smoking a cigarette; and Kakashi, who had a knack for insinuating himself into situations so smoothly that nobody bothered to question his presence. Two Anbu lounged in deceptive relaxation at either end of the small balcony section, and a stocky, red-haired Leaf-nin wearing his forehead protector as a belt was fiddling with the control box for the announcement boards, obviously getting ready to draw lots for fight order.

The Mist-nin and Grass-nin had no family present -- even after a decade of peace, the hidden villages weren't relaxed enough to welcome more foreign shinobi than absolutely necessary, and civilians generally didn't travel for ninja events -- but several Leaf-nin and civilian relatives sat behind the genin. Yukiko spotted a thin, pale woman who, aside from her formal kimono, long hair, and lack of a forehead protector, could be Naga in twenty years; she had the same angular, fine-boned face and startling gold eyes. Clusters of Hyuuga, Uchiha, and Aburame rounded out the private audience, each clan group keeping carefully to themselves.

Although both Aburame Kuroko and Uchiha Akaro seemed to have relatives about Naruto's age, Yukiko steered him toward Naga's look-alike. The old ninja clans had lost the most in the Kyuubi's attack, and they tended to look down on outsiders anyway. While they would be controlled in their dislike -- ninja couldn't afford hysterical hatred -- Yukiko figured Naruto had a better chance of getting neutral attention elsewhere.

"Hello," she said, bowing slightly when she reached the pale woman in the lavender kimono. "I'm Ayakawa Yukiko, one of Naga's partners, and this is Uzumaki Naruto. It's been an honor to work with Naga during this exam."

The pale woman offered a tiny, crooked smile and bowed her head in return. "Thank you for your kind words. I am Tonoike Taizen; Naga is my daughter. I am pleased to meet you, Yukiko-san." She cast a sideways glance at Naruto, and relaxed slightly at the way his grip on Yukiko's hand belied his defiant expression. "And you also, Naruto-kun."

Naruto looked doubtful.

"Go on, kid, you can sit with Taizen-san," Yukiko said. "She can explain what's happening if you get confused." She looked at Taizen for confirmation, and received a tiny nod.

"I'm not confused," Naruto protested, but he perched on a seat near Taizen, not quite relaxed but not longer looking as though he might bolt or start a fight at the slightest provocation. "Don't worry about me, Yukiko-neechan -- you're gonna be late, remember?"

Yukiko reflexively looked at the rest of the genin, several of whom were staring impatiently at her. "Ah, right. I'll talk to you later, kid. Thank you, Taizen-san."

"I'm certain he'll be much less trouble than Naga was at his age," Taizen said with her tiny smile. "Good luck, Yukiko-san."

"Yeah, good luck Yukiko-neechan!"

Yukiko nodded a hasty thanks and vaulted down over the seats to the balcony floor. Iruka waved her over, and she slipped into the circle of genin, standing between him and Naga.

The red-haired ninja at the control box to the electronic announcement boards did a quick head-count, tapped three keys, and closed the programming panel, leaving only the basic keypad exposed. "Hmm," he said, "a bit late, but better late than never. Okay, now that you're all here, I'll run over the rules one last time.

"I'm Okame Hisen, the referee, and this is a standard elimination tournament -- lose one fight and you're out. In the third round one of you will get a bye since, barring any mutual defeats, there'll be three of you left. I'll decide who sits out, with advice from the Kage and Masters. Don't bother contesting my decision; it's final.

"The Kage and Masters will watch for characteristics that are valuable in chuunin, and will promote you or hold you back on that basis. Winning fights won't necessarily help you pass. Remember, at this point any of you can become chuunin even if you lose your first fight, so long as you show what the Kage and Masters are looking for. Any questions?"

One of the Grass-nin, a green-haired boy Yukiko remembered from the first test, pulled his hand from one of his numerous coat pockets and waved it lazily. "Yeah. So, what about killing techniques?"

Hisen shrugged. "It's an elimination tournament -- anything goes. Just try not to bring the arena down on us or injure the audience. That won't make anyone happy and it really won't impress anyone with your control."

The boy nodded and slipped his hand into a different pocket. "That's cool."

"Okay then. The first match is..."

Hisen pushed a button on the keypad, and boards around the arena flashed into life, two names appearing in glowing yellow.

"...Uchiha Akaro vs. Ayakawa Yukiko!"

Yukiko's stomach dropped to her feet. Oh, shit.

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Iruka and Naga shifted closer; Iruka ready to catch her and Naga glaring daggers at Akaro. The black-haired boy smirked at Yukiko from across the circle. "I hope you know more than genjutsu or this is going to be really boring," he said.

Naga hissed at him.

"Save it for your own fight, snake-freak," Akaro said, and vaulted lightly over the balcony wall to the main floor. He strolled to the center of the arena and folded his arms over his high-collared red shirt. Every inch of his body screamed arrogant impatience.

"Shit," Yukiko muttered. "Oh, shit."

Iruka rested his hand on her elbow. "Are you all right, Yukiko? I know this is the worst match-up for you, but you can get through this. Akaro isn't as strong or as smart as he thinks he is, and we have faith in you -- right, Naga?"

Naga nodded, still glaring over the balcony wall at Akaro. "Damn right. Kick his ass, Yukiko."

"But he has the Sharingan!"

Naga snorted. "So? He's just a little prick. Doesn't even have the full Sharingan -- only two of the little swirly things in each eye, not three. You beat that assassin in the second test. You slipped genjutsu past Kakashi in the first test. Akaro's no problem."

"Well, I wouldn't say he's no problem," Iruka said, patting Yukiko on the back, "but he's certainly not as invincible as you think he is. Go on, get down there before Hisen-san calls an automatic forfeit."

"Maybe I should forfeit," Yukiko muttered. "I might as well put myself out of my misery fast." Nightmare images of her last chuunin exam, and her humiliation at the hands of an Uchiha, flashed through her mind.

Iruka grabbed her arm and twisted her slightly so she could see the family seats from the corner of her eye. "Naruto is watching you," he whispered into her ear. "Are you going to mock his dream by giving up here?"

The kid was beaming at her, waving his arms in encouragement and bouncing on his seat with excitement. Taizen smiled indulgently and produced a small blue-green flag out of nowhere for him to wave.

...It would break his heart if she quit now. And it wouldn't be fair to Iruka and Naga either, or Kakashi, after they'd helped her this far. It wouldn't be fair to her parents, who'd always supported her dream. It wouldn't be fair to Ame and Kasumi, who'd never stopped reminding her that she had a place waiting on their team once she made chuunin.

It wouldn't be fair to herself, to quit without ever knowing how far she could go. She'd told Uncle Yutaro she wanted to prove that she'd given up being a shinobi because she wanted to, not because she wasn't good enough to make it.

Besides, Yukiko told herself, determination building, Uchiha Akaro was only thirteen. He'd grown up in peace. He didn't know what real fighting was. He didn't know how to pull himself together and keep going after his whole world fell apart. Even if he did have the Sharingan, there was no way he knew how to use it to its fullest, knew its strengths and weaknesses inside and out. And she'd learned some new tricks since her last chuunin exam.

Maybe she couldn't beat him. But she could go down into that arena and give him the fight of his life.

"Okay, Naga," she said, a tiny smile breaking out through her nerves. "I'll kick his ass."

Yukiko held Naga's cockeyed smile and Naruto's trusting eyes in her mind as she descended into the arena. But, being neither stupid nor desperate to feed an oversized ego, she took the stairs down instead of jumping.

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As she walked slowly to the center of the arena, Yukiko kept her face blank even while her thoughts raced. She couldn't trick Akaro's eyes; he'd see through any of her illusions. She couldn't counter his ninjutsu; she didn't have any attacks of her own. She couldn't outrun him; the Uchiha were notoriously fast. She couldn't outlast him; he had youth on his side, and had been practicing much more regularly than she had.

She had to outthink him.

Well. People said the Uchiha were geniuses, but not all of them could be. And just because the Sharingan could see through genjutsu, that didn't necessarily mean it would help if she tried to fool Akaro's other senses. She'd just have to set up a useless jutsu as a distraction so he'd think her chakra was feeding that instead of a whisper in his mind or something to make him stumble over thin air.

Yukiko ran through a list of basic genjutsu forms, tossing out the visual ones and trying to find something useful. Unfortunately, most genjutsu was designed to fool the eyes, since vision was the most acute sense -- and jutsu that affected the other senses usually had a visual component attached that would, in this case, render the whole exercise pointless. If Akaro spotted the visual part of an illusion, he'd know to discount the other pieces.

She'd have to improvise, have to pick bits and pieces from various jutsu and weave them together into new forms. Yukiko scowled in her mind. Creating new genjutsu on the fly was easier and safer than mucking around with ninjutsu -- she could set the stage with basic seals and then do any fine-tuning with her mind. It wasted chakra that more accurate seals would save, but at least half of genjutsu was mentally controlled anyway. Unfortunately, there was still no guarantee any new techniques would work the way she intended.

Still, they ought to distract Akaro for a second or two, which might be all she needed. If she could get him to close, and then throw him off balance for just a second, she might be able to win. If.

Hisen looked between Akaro's casual smirk and Yukiko's blank determination, and raised his arm. "The match will end when one person surrenders or is unable to continue fighting. If I judge that one of you is finished but the other doesn't stop attacking, I'll break you up. Clear?"

Yukiko and Akaro nodded.

"Good. Begin!" Hisen lowered his arm and leapt out of the way.

Yukiko immediately wove a quick area genjutsu, causing illusory trees to spring up throughout the arena. Akaro laughed. "What's the point? I can see through this, idiot."

Of course he could, Yukiko thought, but the trees were just a cover. The important part was the wall of silence that shut out any noise from the audience and left him receptive to her whispers. She knew what he saw: a short, thin woman, blue-green hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail, and badly hidden fear on her face. Nothing threatening. Nothing to worry about. All she had to do was enhance that impression. What a stupid woman, she murmured into Akaro's mind, letting the words coalesce out of the diffuse chakra forming the illusory forest. I don't even need to use jutsu to beat her. Pathetic.

"You know, I don't even need ninjutsu to beat you," Akaro said, drawing a handful of shuriken. "You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to be a chuunin with such pathetic skills."

He flicked the shuriken toward Yukiko, who threw herself low and to the left, cursing as one tore through her pants and grazed her leg. Don't get cocky, she told herself. Just because he's listening to you doesn't mean he's going to forget basic strategy. Her leg stung where the shuriken had drawn blood.

Akaro smirked and threw another shuriken, his arm and hand moving too fast for Yukiko to see clearly. She dodged left again, twisting sideways, and felt the wind as the sharp metal flew past only inches from her back. Damnit, this wasn't going to work; sooner or later he was going to hit something important.

She had to distract him.

Shuriken -- duck. Yukiko slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a wire coil and a flash bomb. Shuriken -- dodge left -- remember to pretend the tree is solid! She drew a kunai and wrapped the wire through the hilt loop. Shuriken -- dodge left, ignore the sting along her right shoulder. She slid the short end through the pull-tab of the bomb, and wrapped it three times around the main body. Shuriken -- dodge left. Shuriken -- jump, dodge left.

Shuriken -- duck. She slammed the kunai into the ground as she rolled away from another shuriken. Dodge left -- duck -- dodge left -- just a flesh wound, don't slow down! -- left, left, left -- jump -- grimace and clap a hand to her left side, pulling the shuriken free -- left, left -- around the fake tree, always pretending it's real -- left, left... how many shuriken did Akaro have? Breathe heavily, stumble, and keep her hand pressed to her side. Dodge left, and again, and again...

180 degrees. Now!

Yukiko yanked on the wire, pulling the tab loose from the flash bomb, and sent it flying straight toward Akaro.

She closed her eyes against the burst of light, then took careful aim and hurled a handful of shuriken at Akaro's legs, hoping to slice tendon or cut deep into muscle.

He dodged. Yukiko grimaced; it had been worth a try.

"Nice try, but I'm not stupid," Akaro said, smirking. He pointed at his red-and-black eyes. "I can see what you're doing, remember? I saw your wire."

Yes, but he wasn't throwing shuriken at her anymore, now was he? Definitely pathetic, Yukiko projected. She's bleeding, she's tired. She's not thinking straight -- she kept acting like the fake trees were real. I bet if I pushed her next to one, she wouldn't even try to step through it.

Akaro sauntered forward, grinning and twirling a kunai in his right hand. Yukiko drew three kunai of her own with her right hand, keeping her left pressed against her side. She slid back one step, two steps, until her back would almost have pressed against bark if her trees were real. She tensed, ready to dodge sideways.

Akaro blurred forward, aiming just a bit to her right...

Yukiko dropped to the ground, falling straight back into the heart of the tree and sticking her leg out to trip Akaro. He stumbled, touched down with his left foot, and pushed into an aerial flip, hurling his kunai as he twisted away from her scattershot knives.

Shit! Yukiko frantically rolled sideways, scrambled to her feet, and drew another kunai.

Akaro looked at her speculatively.

Shit, shit, shit. If he started thinking he'd underestimated her, she was in big trouble. Not a bad trick, but that's all she has, Yukiko whispered hastily, swaying on her feet. Still, maybe I should finish this before she gets another 'clever' idea.

"That was almost smart, faking two patterns of movement," Akaro said. "But I think this has gone on long enough. Do you surrender?"

"No." Interesting that he'd make the offer, though, Yukiko thought. Maybe he wasn't quite as much of a self-centered little jerk as Naga thought.

Akaro shrugged. "Your loss. This ends now."

Oh, shit. Time to go for broke. Akaro blurred forward again, and Yukiko released the trees, released the silence, jerked her hands into a tiger seal, and forced all her chakra and will into a scream and flash of light within his mind.

"NO!"

The thunder echoed back in her own mind, and she staggered, spots of phantom light flashing before her eyes. Shit. This was why she hated improvising in the middle of a fight; that scream was a physical effect genjutsu, just like Vertigo, and those always doubled back on the caster. She had to find Akaro now, before she lost the few seconds' advantage she'd gained by bracing for the chakra drain.

Something scrabbled against the dirt to her left; Akaro, eyes squeezed to narrow slits, one hand clamped to his right ear, struggled to his feet and fumbled for a kunai. "You... sneak... cheat..." he mumbled, the words sticking to his bloody tongue and lip.

Yukiko winced in sympathy as he swayed, but she threw her kunai anyway, aiming for his left shoulder. His eyes tracked it automatically, his mind in no shape to override millennia of animal instincts, and Yukiko reached his right side before he could readjust to block her.

Her knife-hand missed his neck and slammed into his shoulder. Shit. The feedback was throwing her off more than she could afford, and her balance was off; she was overcompensating for the slice below her left ribs.

The crowd roared as Akaro dodged her attempted foot sweep -- she couldn't tell if they were cheering for him or for her. It didn't matter, really, so long as she didn't let the noise throw her concentration.

"Missed," Akaro panted. Blood trickled from his mouth, where he'd bitten into his tongue when the genjutsu hit. "My turn." He sliced at Yukiko's stomach with his kunai; she knocked his arm aside, and he turned his stumble into a shoulder roll.

"Katon: Mythical Fireflower no Jutsu!"

The gout of flame was weak, but well targeted. Yukiko blinked, then threw herself to the ground, feeling fire scorch her hair and back as it passed over her. Akaro was recovering, enough to use ninjutsu. She had to finish this now.

There was something Kakashi said, several weeks ago, about explosive notes and kunai. A good distraction technique...? No time for that, but fortunately she had other tools.

Yukiko pulled two smoke bombs from her jacket pocket, pulled the tabs, and hurled them in Akaro's general direction. He dodged easily despite his still-shaky balance -- and sank another shuriken into her left thigh -- but that didn't matter. She only needed three seconds worth of distraction, and the thick, eye-watering, mouth-burning smoke that poured from the bombs covered everything within five yards. Two bombs was probably overkill, but at this point, she didn't care.

Yukiko concentrated her chakra and will, formed her seals with care, and walked into the thinning cloud of smoke. Left foot, right foot, then left again, each step slow and deliberate, each foot placed with exacting care. This was her last chance; she couldn't let it go to waste.

"Do you surrender?" she asked.

Akaro coughed, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He glared. "Never. You?"

Yukiko smiled, a little shakily, and shifted to protect her left side. "Come and get me." She dropped her left elbow slightly. Take the bait, take the bait... she couldn't whisper in his mind anymore -- didn't have any illusions up to mask the flow of chakra, but she could still play a role, act a part. Come on, take the bait...

She set her hands and waited. One. Two. Akaro's eyes narrowed, flashed red-and-black, and whirled. Yukiko didn't let her grin out; that wasn't going to do any good now, but let him ease his suspicion. Let him take the bait... Three. Four. Five.

Akaro rushed forward, aiming for her wounded side...

And ran, instead, straight into Yukiko's knife hand. She stabbed him in the throat, swept his feet to the side, and followed him to the ground, her knee planted on his chest and a kunai resting against his throat. "Surrender."

He didn't answer. Yukiko took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. His eyes looked odd -- actually, he didn't seem to be focusing on anything. She waved her hand in front of his face. No reaction.

"Concussion?" she wondered.

"Hmm. Yes, probably. That was a hard fall," someone said next to her.

Yukiko turned, too tired to flinch. Hisen, the red-haired judge, squatted down beside her and checked Akaro's pulse. "Well, he isn't dead; that's nice. A good fight, both of you. Would you mind telling me just what happened at the end, and why that scream threw both of you off so badly?"

Normally she would have argued -- no ninja liked giving away her secrets -- but she was too tired, and besides, it might help her pass the exam. "They're physical effect genjutsu," Yukiko said. "The scream is amplified in the mind, along with a flash of light. I don't have a name for it. The second one I call Sidestep; it throws your feet off ten degrees to one side. I was expecting it and aimed to compensate. Akaro didn't."

"Hmm. Risky, but interesting. I'll tell the Kage and Masters. For now..." Hisen whipped a small box out of his pocket and pressed several buttons. "There we go.

"You win."

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