Bully Lord In the Chunin Exam (NarutoVerse)

Xero, predictably, wasn't going to just let the Sand Siblings dismiss them and walk off into the sunset without getting in some kind of bravado-flavored retort. He huffed out this sharp little exhale – tch – a puff of air that was probably about fifty percent pure exasperation, fifty percent residual, ego-bruised annoyance at having been declared 'not worth it'. "Tch, whatever," he scoffed again, shoving his hands even deeper into his pockets, scowling with entirely disproportionate levels of teenage angst at a particularly belligerent tree root that had dared to get in his ninja-stomping path. "We could have totally taken them back there, you know. Just saying, is all. If we'd, you know, actually, properly gone for it."

The last bit? That "gone for it" part? Delivered with noticeably less of that usual Xero-brand full-throated conviction than his earlier boasts. A tiny little crack in the bravado shield, just a hairline fracture, barely perceptible, but… there. A subtle little hint that even Xero, in the slightly quieter, slightly more rational corners of his chaotic mind, might just be, maybe, just a little bit, reconsidering the whole 'easy win' scenario against Team Sandstorm. 

Like maybe, just maybe, it might not have been quite the stroll in the park victory he'd initially, rather optimistically, envisioned. Maybe. Just maybe. Tiny maybe. But still. A maybe, nonetheless. Progress. Of a very, very microscopic and definitely bravado-resistant kind. But still. Progress.

Kuro didn't jump in right away to dissect Reika's quiet pragmatism or Xero's predictably puffed-up, post-encounter blustering. His internal processing was still buffering, mind still replaying that brief, intense standoff, mentally rewinding and fast-forwarding, trying to break down Gaara's whole vibe frame by frame. 

Reika's understated assessment of "strong"? Yeah, Kuro registered that. Solid data point, as always from Team Pragmatism Central. Xero's 'could've taken 'em, maybe, possibly, if-we-really-tried-hard' bravado? Kuro mentally filed that too. Appreciated the comedic timing, even if the underlying 'we're secretly ninja-supermen-in-disguise' sentiment felt… slightly over-tuned on the bravado dial this time around.

But his own brain cycles were locked on a different frequency right now, buzzing with this distinct, almost gut-level premonition. That near-miss with the Sand Siblings, that strange, tension-bubble moment in the forest clearing… it just didn't feel like the credits rolling on the Gaara episode of their Chunin Exam adventure. Nope. Less a 'scene ended, curtain closed, next act please' feeling, and more of a 'ominous music swelling, dramatic pause for effect, and 'to be continued…' flashed on the screen in menacing red letters'.

The Forest of Death, as someone once aptly observed, wasn't exactly sprawling suburban sprawl. During the Chunin Exams, with genin teams crammed into its relatively limited acreage like sardines in a scroll-shaped can, paths had a weird tendency to… crisscross. Intersect. Collide. Like fate with a slightly malicious sense of narrative irony was actively matchmaking them with potential ninja rivals for maximum dramatic impact. 

And something in that lingering Gaara gaze, in that fleeting, unreadable flicker that had briefly lit up those unsettling green eyes… yeah, Kuro just knew, deep down in that instinctual ninja gut-brain connection, that their paths, dusty, scroll-laden, and slightly anxiety-inducing as they were, were destined to tangle with Team Sandstorm's paths again. And next time? Next time, he strongly suspected, politely nodding and 'just walking away' might just not be a viable, or indeed particularly desired, option.

—---------

Meanwhile, high up in the sprawling, tangled branches of a seriously ancient tree, towering over the well-worn path and that now eerily empty clearing, Anko Mitarashi was doing her 'professional ninja observer' thing. Perched up there with the effortless grace of a seasoned apex predator keeping an eye on its hunting grounds. 

She was practically invisible, woven right into the dense, green tapestry of foliage like a particularly stealthy thread. From her cleverly concealed vantage point, Anko had been just drinking it all in – watching, recording, mentally annotating every little micro-expression and power dynamic. 

Team Sandstorm's almost-melee with Team Tsukigakure? Oh yeah, Anko had prime ringside seats to that little bit of exam theatre. Perfectly positioned for maximum data collection purposes. Her eyes, sharp as a shuriken and trained to spot the faintest twitch in a shinobi's muscle fibre from kilometers away, missed absolutely nothing. She'd meticulously logged every nuance of that standoff – from the initial posturing and pre-fight bravado, right through to that carefully navigated (and surprisingly sensible) truce, and even those lingering after-waves of tension even after the Sand Siblings had buggered off stage left.

Now, she zoomed in, those fancy ninja-binoculars whirring softly as they refocused, bringing up a crystal-clear close-up of… yeah, him. Kuro. Anko rewound the mental tape, re-running the last few minutes in her head, but also double-checking with the actual visual feed, just to be extra-ninja-professional. She meticulously re-examined the footage capturing all those oh-so-subtle things about Kuro's reactions. 

Those controlled movements, smooth and almost unnervingly calm. That detached, almost clinical appraisal in his gaze, like he was assessing a potential engineering problem rather than an existential sand-based threat. 

Yep. Definitely interesting data points stacking up on the 'Kuro-file'. This one, Anko was starting to suspect, was just a little bit… different. Different, and definitely, professionally speaking, worthy of considerably more observation hours. Chunin Exams just kept getting more entertaining every year. And occasionally, just occasionally, a genuinely intriguing data-set walked right onto her carefully curated surveillance stage.

Anko smirked to herself, a sharp, knowing little twist of her lips that spoke volumes without a single audible syllable escaping. 

"Well, well, well, what have we here then?" she thought internally, flicking her gaze back through the recording feed, rewinding for maybe the tenth time now, to re-savor Xero's hilariously inept attempts at smack-talk and then Gaara's icily brutal verbal dismissal. 

"Looks like the little genin pups are starting to grow some actual teeth after all, eh?" She murmured under her breath, a soft, almost purring sound that barely disturbed the rustling leaves, more to herself than to the silent, unjudging forest canopy.

"Still all sharp angles and puppy fat in some cases, granted," she continued her silent inner commentary, replaying Xero's attempts at swagger for the nth time, "but definitely… evolving. Leveling up. Developing some rather intriguing, and occasionally highly entertaining, skill-sets." 

Anko, after all, had witnessed approximately seven billion generations of genin stumble, trip over their own feet, occasionally have genuinely impressive moments of near-competence, and sometimes, against all odds, actually properly soar through the grueling crucible that was her beloved Chunin Exams. 

And this year's little cohort of wide-eyed hopefuls? Yeah, this year's crop was shaping up to be… particularly… interesting. Potentially chaotic, bordering on actively destructive, and undeniably, endlessly… entertaining.

Anko's laser-sharp gaze lingered on the freeze-framed recording of Kuro's face, that slightly detached, almost calculating expression sparking a flicker of something undeniably akin to… anticipation lighting up those usually dark, sharp-as-knives eyes. 

"Oh, the games are far from over yet, little geninlings," 

Anko mused, a proper, genuine spark of something that might actually be construed as excitement starting to creep into her inner monologue, that thrill-seeker ninja pulse quickening just a notch. "Oh no, not even close to over. In fact," she thought, smirk widening just a fraction more, bordering on something that could almost be mistaken for predatory glee, "they're just about to get properly, deliciously… interesting."