Rest

Two weeks had passed since the disastrous mission in the Land of Waterfalls. Tetsuma had been given the time to recover, both physically and mentally. Losing Nao—Sparrow—had affected the squad, but Tetsuma knew better than to dwell on the loss. Death was inevitable in the life of a shinobi, and it was not his first time witnessing the cost of their profession. The squad had taken heavy losses, but they had also succeeded in their mission.

Despite the loss of a teammate, Tetsuma focused on his training, his recovery, and the duty that awaited him as part of the 1st Battalion of Anbu, under the direct leadership of his father, Hatake Eiji. Eiji was a battle-hardened veteran and currently served as the commander of the 1st Battalion, one of the most elite and respected groups in the Anbu. The task before Tetsuma was not only to heal his wounds but also to prepare himself for the future, both as a warrior and as a member of this prestigious unit.

Today, the training resumed.

Tetsuma stood on the training grounds within the Hatake estate, a vast area bordered by tall trees, isolated from the village to ensure privacy and focus. His father, Eiji, stood across from him, katana in hand. Tetsuma held his own katana with both hands, focused and ready. The tension in the air was palpable, a silent understanding between father and son—today's training would push Tetsuma to his limits.

"You've healed well enough," Eiji said with a measured tone. "Now, let's see if you've gained any ground since the mission."

Tetsuma nodded. The previous days spent honing his skills had paid off. His injuries had healed, and he had continued his training in kenjutsu, chakra control, and his elemental jutsu. He knew his father's expectations were high, but that only fueled his resolve. Being in the 1st Battalion of Anbu was no small thing. They operated at the forefront of Konoha's defense, dealing with threats both inside and outside the village. His father, as the leader, had set the standard. Tetsuma had to meet that standard.

Without warning, Eiji lunged forward, his katana slicing through the air with deadly precision. Tetsuma's reaction time was quick, but not quick enough to avoid the full force of the strike. He blocked with his own katana, the clash ringing out, but the force sent a jolt through his arms, and he stumbled back.

"Too slow," Eiji said, stepping back and preparing for another strike. "You're still rushing your moves. Think, don't react."

Tetsuma steadied himself. His father was always precise, always patient, and he expected the same. Tetsuma had learned a lot from his father in the years of training, but it had always been about balance—combining raw power with calm precision. He had the strength, but the technique often faltered. Now was the time to correct that.

This time, when Eiji attacked, Tetsuma held his ground, waiting for the perfect moment. Eiji's strike came fast, but Tetsuma didn't panic. He adjusted his stance and flowed with the attack, using his father's momentum to slide into a more advantageous position. A quick counter followed, narrowly grazing Eiji's shoulder.

Eiji paused, watching his son with a critical eye.

"Better," he said, sheathing his sword for a moment. "But you're still too stiff. Relax your movements. You're not fighting me—you're fighting the flow of the battle itself."

Tetsuma nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. He took a moment to focus, feeling the rhythm of his father's movements in his bones. With every strike, he was starting to understand his father's words more clearly. It wasn't just about matching power with power—it was about reading the situation, anticipating the opponent's next move, and then responding.

For the next few hours, Tetsuma and his father sparred in a quiet but intense rhythm. Each time Tetsuma made a mistake, his father was there to correct him, not with anger, but with quiet, deliberate instruction. By the end of the session, Tetsuma was exhausted but had made significant progress. His movements had become smoother, more fluid.

"Good," Eiji said, sheathing his sword. "You've improved. But there's still more to do. The battlefield doesn't wait."

Tetsuma's heart raced, not from exhaustion but from the clarity of his father's words. The battlefront was always a step ahead, and he needed to be ready.

As part of the 1st Battalion of Anbu, Tetsuma was learning firsthand what it meant to serve at the highest level of Konoha's military structure. The 1st Battalion was an elite group, often tasked with the most dangerous and sensitive missions. They were the shadow operatives, moving unseen and unheard, gathering intelligence, neutralizing threats, and dealing with issues that the regular forces couldn't handle.

Led by his father, Hatake Eiji, the 1st Battalion consisted of highly skilled shinobi, each chosen for their exceptional abilities, loyalty, and ability to operate in extreme conditions. The missions they undertook were varied, from assassination operations to intelligence gathering and covert sabotage. The pressure was always high, and failure was not an option.