The delegation leaders had their papers checked, and only after that and a head count were we allowed to proceed in a thin stream through the long canyon into Sunagakure.
The mere presence of chakra-powered traps sent shivers down my spine, despite the surrounding heat, not to mention the dozens of arrow slits covered by illusions, through which we were watched by unfriendly eyes. Even the genin, who had previously been curiously scanning their surroundings at the sight of another hidden village, now fell silent and huddled closer to their senior comrades.
But after a few minutes, the dangerous section was passed, and we were escorted into the Sand Village itself. However, we didn't have much time to take in our surroundings before we were led to a large three-story building situated just a hundred steps from the start of the canyon.
Even the little we managed to see instilled a slight sense of pity for the local residents — compared to Konoha, Sunagakure seemed like a desolate and unpleasant place, with minimal greenery on the streets, and ugly buildings made of compressed sand, most of them painted white or light colors. In terms of atmosphere, Konoha felt like a peaceful forest glade, while Sunagakure resembled a steadfast, harsh cliff resisting the onslaught of hurricanes and storms. And its inhabitants were a reflection of that.
Our escorts were like stern tin soldiers, not uttering a word. Among the six jōnin who accompanied us, only their leader spoke a few words; the others remained silent. However, no one seemed inclined to start a conversation — their hostile glances towards our delegation spoke volumes. What else to expect from those who lost the war?
As I surveyed the provided rooms — on the right half of the hotel for foreign guests, where we were assigned part of the second floor — I sighed, shook my head, and slapped a seal on the floor designed to ward off various parasites, before beginning to unpack my bedding.
According to the shinobi responsible for our security (or supervision, to be more precise), sightseeing or even just strolling around the streets was not an option — until the start of the Chūnin Exams, all hotel occupants were prohibited from going outside. Even if someone managed to slip past the visible guards, there were always barely perceptible Anbu hidden in neighboring buildings.
— A warm welcome? — Uchiha snorted as he settled into the completely empty room, lacking even a hint of comfort, except for the stone floor.
The jōnin was assigned to share the room with me since there weren't enough rooms for everyone separately. The sensei and their teams were housed separately, with the leader and deputy in one room, and we, as the clan representatives, took the last one. Not that there was much difference between rooms that were four by three meters with a small window.
— And why did I expect that the Sand villagers, who lost the war, would be more friendly? — I asked sarcastically, falling onto the futon.
— Hey, they haven't tried to stab us in the back yet, — Shinji replied in the same tone. — But don't expect such treatment for the genin; once the tests begin, there will be casualties, many of them.
— Well, that's why I'm here, to make sure there are fewer from our side, — I shrugged.
— I don't think the Kazekage will resort to outright sabotage, but it's no guess that other village teams will try not only to put us at a disadvantage but also to destroy us if possible, — the jōnin nodded. — So, your help will definitely be needed.
— Do you think something serious will happen right away? — I raised an eyebrow questioningly.
— In the first stage? Probably not, but beyond that — almost certainly.
In principle, he was right; we just had to wait and see for ourselves. And that meant another day and a half of idleness. Well…
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