The Akuma Family Estate was one of the largest edifices in Sunagakure no Sato, towering over the other buildings and built of rarer materials and the finest metals, adorned with gems and ornaments. It all had a very regal feel about it; the building was ancient and had quite a history, but was under constant care and renovation. The leaders of the Akuma clan maintained the estate proudly, accepting it as the legacy of their ancestors before them. That was the very day of their personal test of athleticism, where they held sporting events and obstacle courses open to the entirety of the village to spectate or participate in. So there Yasunari stood, pondering the history of the estate before him and watching as people flooded in by the dozen to pass into the crowd and make their way to the audience. Usually, he would follow them, but his path was set to the other group, the group of tall, muscled goons who flexed and growled at each other in showy displays of self-worth and overcompensation. Yes, much to his excitement, Yasunari would be participating in the Strength course, as he had seen it available on the Sunagakure mission board. He let out a sigh as he moved to join the other contestants, who eyed him like fresh meat.

The man on his far left chortled halfheartedly, as if to brush off Yasunari as laughable. Yasunari looked back at him with a warm grin, his eyes burning with competitive hatred and thirst for victory. The breaking tone toward the end of the laugh as the man's vocal cords strained made it clear that he was more nervous than confident in himself. Yasunari's eyes squinted against the sunlight."Ha, what's so funny, friend?" It was quiet now, and everyone turned to the other man. He wore a nametag that read "Toroi", but Yasunari didn't much care for who he was, then. He turned away to face the others. "And how are you all doing?" No answer, not even a sound. They simply went back to their warm-ups and stretches. Yasu didn't let his excitement show and he began stretching as well, just so he didn't seem as out of place. A bead of sweat dripped from his brow, falling to the floor in what seemed like a lifetime. His nametag emblazoned his name to his body, letting everyone know who he was.

Within moments, a voice called to them loudly. "And now, our strength event will begin. Contestants, present yourselves to the audience and we will begin." The group, with Yasunari trailing close behind, funneled their way onto the stage and stood for a bit as the crowd addressed them with a round of applause. The announcer continued. "So this course has three phases; the contestants will first complete a preliminary round where they beat punching bags until the bag falls or breaks. The first four to do so will move to the climbing round, where they will scale a rock wall. Finally, the remaining two will race to lift a 50kg weight. Whoever does so first is crowned victor."

Suddenly, a punching bag was placed in front of Yasunari and a whistle sounded. He didn't have time to think and he focused only on the target in front of him. Ninjutsu was prohibited in this course, so all he had were his fists and his willpower. With every heavy lunch, the thin rope holding the bag up creaked and the seams of the bag stretched and groaned. He continued punching relentlessly until the rope snapped and the bag collapsed, and he looked up to see his competition and their progress. He soon realized that he was third, just enough to qualify. The last finished and he gauged them all. A broad woman with blonde hair, a strange man with crazed eyes, and Toroi. He wasn't nervous. Another whistle sounded and they all sprinted to a nearby wall, climbing erratically to reach the top. the scramble was a large blur, but Yasunari kept to the right side of the wall and moved quickly, relying on pure strength to carry him from stone to stone until he was at the apex. All who he was left with was Toroi, who looked back at him intensely. Finalists. The announcer's voice spoke, unintelligible from their height, but that didn't matter. They knew what was next. The familiar whistle blew again and Yasunari dropped, picking up the heavy weight and placing it behind his neck. His shoulders tensed as he raised up, then forced his hands skyward. It was all over within seconds.

And then all he could hear was the cheering. From the sounds of it, they were cheering his name. Yasunari, Yasunari...a bewitching chant born of celebratory adrenaline. He was given a trophy and a personal award from the Akuma family, but he stared at Toroi, almost saddened by the fact that he had to defeat the poor man to be the winner. Almost. He raised his arms high and let out a triumphant shout. "Thank you!"

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