Naruto: Konoha's Psychic

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Izumo straightened, his jaw tightening. "This is serious," he muttered, his tone grim. "I need to report this immediately." He placed a reassuring hand on Inoiki's shoulder. "Stay here. I'll call for the invigilators right away—and a medical ninja to treat your injuries."

As Izumo hurried out of the room, Inoiki let his head rest against the wall, his mind still replaying the harrowing encounter with Orochimaru. For now, all he could do was wait—and hope that the danger lurking in the Forest of Death would soon be contained.

Izumo sprinted through the corridors of the tower, urgency etched into his every movement. He found one of the invigilators and quickly relayed the situation. "Orochimaru has infiltrated the Chunin Exams," he said, his voice low but urgent. "One of the candidates, Inoiki, fought him and sustained serious injuries. We need a medical ninja immediately."

The invigilator's expression hardened. He turned to another staff member and barked, "Fetch a medical ninja. Now." But as the aide hurried off, the invigilator turned back to Izumo with a grim look. "There are rules in place. I need to see the candidate myself before any action can be taken."

Together, the invigilator and Izumo returned to Inoiki's side. The invigilator crouched down, studying the battered shinobi with sharp eyes.

"Inoiki," he said, his tone calm but firm, "I cannot provide you with medical assistance while you're still in the exam. It's against the rules. If you choose to withdraw, a medical ninja will be allowed to treat your injuries. But unless you quit, my hands are tied."

Inoiki's gaze sharpened as he fixed his eyes on the invigilator. His voice, though weakened, carried an edge. "Rules? Then where were those rules when a rogue ninja like Orochimaru infiltrated the exam?" His tone grew harsher. "It was your negligence, not mine, that allowed him to get here. If you had done your job, I wouldn't have these injuries in the first place."

The invigilator flinched, visibly embarrassed by Inoiki's words. He opened his mouth to respond but faltered, unable to find a defense.

"This…" he stammered, his face reddening. After a pause, he added reluctantly, "You'll have to wait for the captain to arrive. I can't make a decision on this matter alone."

Izumo, standing nearby, clenched his fists, frustration evident on his face. He looked at Inoiki, who was sitting upright despite the obvious pain, his expression resolute.

Inoiki wasn't about to give up. He had no intention of abandoning the Chunin Exams, not when that would mean waiting an entire year to try again. The injuries were painful, but they weren't fatal. He would endure.

Inoiki nodded, his exhaustion evident, but he chose not to press the invigilator further. Instead, he spoke in a calm, measured tone, "Fine. At the very least, provide me with extra bandages and cotton. That much should be allowed under the rules, right?"

The invigilator looked relieved at the compromise and quickly responded, "Yes, that's definitely allowed. I'll get them for you right away." Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted off to fetch the supplies.

Izumo, watching the exchange, let out a weary sigh. "Rules are rules," he muttered, though there was an undercurrent of frustration in his voice. He glanced at Inoiki, whose injuries were severe enough to warrant immediate treatment. Yet, despite the situation, the young shinobi remained composed.

Inoiki turned to Izumo, his voice steady but strained. "Captain, help me take off my upper-body clothes. My left arm is broken, and I'm running dangerously low on chakra. I've been using what little I have left to stop the bleeding on my head. If I hadn't, I'd have lost a significant amount of blood by now."

Izumo nodded without hesitation and knelt beside him. Carefully, he helped Inoiki remove his upper garments, mindful of the injuries. The broken arm required delicate handling, and Inoiki winced but didn't complain, his face set with quiet determination.

Once his torso was bare, revealing bruises and cuts along his chest and arms, Inoiki reached into his pouch and retrieved a small scroll. With practiced ease, he unfurled it and activated the unsealing technique. From the scroll, an assortment of items materialized: clothes, basic first aid supplies, and extra weapons.

Izumo raised an eyebrow at the foresight. "You really thought of everything," he remarked, his tone light, though his eyes betrayed his concern for the young shinobi.

Inoiki allowed himself a faint smile despite the pain. "Being prepared is half the battle," he said, though his voice was tinged with exhaustion.

As they waited for the invigilator to return, Izumo began helping Inoiki clean his wounds, his hands steady as he worked.

Finally, the wounds were cleaned, and the bandages were in place. By the time they finished, the invigilator had returned with the extra supplies. Inoiki used the additional bandages to tightly secure his broken left arm, fashioning a makeshift sling to support it. The process was slow and painful, but he endured it silently, his expression stoic despite the discomfort.

Once his injuries were tended to, Inoiki carefully pulled his clothes back on, wincing slightly with each movement. He reached into his supplies and took a few painkillers, swallowing them dry. The dull throb of his injuries eased marginally, though the exhaustion pressing down on him was unrelenting.

Izumo gave him a final look, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and pride. "Rest now," he said simply, his voice firm but kind.

The invigilator nodded in agreement, his earlier embarrassment replaced with quiet respect for the young shinobi. With their part done, both Izumo and the invigilator left the room, giving Inoiki the peace he needed.

The silence settled like a comforting blanket. Inoiki leaned back against the wall, his body sinking into the floor. The fatigue from the battle, the injuries, and the mental strain finally caught up to him. His eyes closed involuntarily, and within moments, he was asleep, the world fading into darkness as his body sought the rest it so desperately needed.

For now, the storm had passed.

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