Chapter 25 - A Small Challenge
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The following morning, Konohagakure was gripped by panic, a chaotic frenzy that spread through the village like a brush fire igniting a parched field.
It was as though a herd of wild boars had stampeded through the streets, yet no one could quite piece together why they had been called to prepare for battle the night before.
Some whispered that it had something to do with Jiraiya, who had been discovered in a compromising position that left more than a few ninjas battling fits of uncontrollable laughter—and nightmares. Others dismissed it as just another typical day in Konoha, a place where absurdity seemed to hang in the air like the morning mist.
Today, however, the mystery had only grown. Word spread like wildfire that Lord Hokage had suddenly fallen ill and decided to take an impromptu vacation at home, leaving his staff in a state of utter bewilderment.
Rumor had it that he had taken to binge-watching his favorite soap operas, his attention wholly consumed by dramatic love triangles and shocking revelations. Some claimed they could hear him shouting at the screen in frustration, refusing to answer any calls from his subordinates. After all, who could interrupt such gripping drama?
Whispers circulated through the village like an intricate game of ninja telephone. The sight of Naruto’s personal guards buying an alarming quantity of blood tonics from the local pharmacy had only fueled the rumors.
“What is this, a vampire convention?” one ninja joked, though the uneasy look in his eyes betrayed his attempt at humor.
Adding to the confusion, a pool of blood had been found in the 9th training ground, but by the time anyone rushed to investigate, the area had been mysteriously restored to its usual pristine state.
It was as if some unseen force had descended with remarkable efficiency, scrubbing away any trace of the unsettling discovery.
“Did the fairies come through with a cleaning crew or something?” another ninja quipped, shaking his head in disbelief.
The major clans were on edge. The Uchiha and Hyuga had gathered their forces, their numbers rivaling a village-wide feast, though the tension in the air was far from festive. The night passed in a kind of anxious vigil, waiting for an impending event that never arrived.
“It’s like waiting for a pizza that never shows up,” one ninja muttered, his eyes fixed on the window. “And I ordered extra toppings, too.”
When they finally marched to the Hokage Building, demanding answers, they were met with little more than blank stares and vague reassurances.
“Everything’s fine,” the staff repeated, their voices unconvincing.
“Just a minor ninja emergency. Nothing to be concerned about.” Yet their evasiveness only stoked the fire of speculation.
The rumor mill truly began to churn when whispers surfaced that Jiraiya had been attacked and that Naruto had been injured in what was described as a “self-help formation.” “Self-help?” someone scoffed.
“Sounds like a bad therapy session.”
Both were now reportedly recovering at home, no doubt sharing takeout and commiserating over their latest brush with disaster, with Jiraiya offering his usual dramatic retelling, complete with exaggerated gestures and overly vivid sound effects.
As gossip swirled through the village like the ever-present wind rustling the trees, an elder finally spoke up.
“I knew something was amiss! How does the strongest Hokage catch a cold out of nowhere? Maybe he needs a new jutsu—something like ‘Get Well Soon Jutsu’!”
He waved his arms theatrically, as though summoning a grand spell to cure all illnesses with a single motion.
In Konoha, it was just another day—a blend of chaos, confusion, and comedy, where the lines between reality and absurdity blurred as easily as ink on a hastily written scroll.
A few days later, Kakashi Hatake, Naruto’s ever-composed teacher, personally stepped in to quash the wild rumors circulating around the village. With the same casual ease that he employed when teaching his students, he waved off the hysteria with a dismissive gesture.
The villagers looked on, puzzled, as he mumbled something about “just another Tuesday” while flashing his familiar, laid-back eye smile—doing little to ease their confusion but enough to quell the chaos.
On the outskirts of Konoha, Hatake Sakumo and his eager but occasionally reckless son, Mi Blade, were entrenched in a grueling training regimen that could make even the most seasoned ninja question their life choices.
Father and son were tasked with running ten laps around the village, each dragging a weight that seemed fit for a blacksmith’s forge.
Mi Blade, gasping for breath, muttered through his exhaustion, “At this rate, I’m going to need a chiropractor,” his legs trembling as though they were made of jelly.
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The real challenge, however, lay in what followed. Their so-called “relaxation exercises”—a term Kakashi used loosely—consisted of five hundred push-ups and squats.
“Relaxation? More like ‘let’s see how far we can push them until they break!’” Kakashi observed, his grin widening as he watched his students struggle through the intense physical strain.
Next on the agenda was Chidori practice, but there was an added incentive (or punishment): if their form faltered or their aim was off, they wouldn’t receive dinner.
“So, basically, we’re working for our food now? That’s one way to motivate us!” Mi Blade muttered, stomach growling as he envisioned the meal he was training to earn.
After that, they moved on to swordsmanship. Under Sakumo’s relentless eye, they had to endure ten minutes of merciless drills. If they failed to meet his lofty expectations, the punishment was severe—their training would double for the day.
“This is madness! It’s like being stuck in a ninja boot camp designed by a deranged chef!” Mi Blade groaned dramatically, collapsing to the ground in mock defeat.
Despite the physical toll, they pressed on. Their final task of the day involved controlling their chakra with one hand while juggling fifty needles through a single thread.
On the other side, they swung their swords in clumsy arcs, trying to slice specific spots on a wooden stake with the grace of a deer learning to walk. It was a sight both comical and painful to behold.
This punishing routine stretched on for an entire month. Just when it seemed that even Sakumo couldn’t watch his sons flounder any longer—flailing like banners caught in a windstorm—he finally relented.
The grueling training had transformed Mi Blade and his brother from exhausted boys into warriors of newfound strength. By the end of it, their chakra control had reached levels previously unimaginable, surging with the intensity of a thousand hyperactive squirrels fueled by an endless supply of chakra energy.
Their reserves had grown exponentially, and they radiated power as if they had consumed an entire stash of secret ninja energy potions.
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Current Stats of Mi Blade of the Hatake Clan:
Name: Mi Blade
Clan: Hatake
Gender: Male
Age: 6 years old
Chakra Level: 2180
(For context, most ninjas possess between 300-1000, but Mi Blade and his brother seem to be running on pure chakra adrenaline, like they’ve tapped into some hidden source of ninja energy drinks.)
Chakra Nature: Wind, Fire, and Thunder
(Essentially, they’re walking weather patterns, capable of summoning storms, conjuring fire, and unleashing lightning on a whim.)
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Main Skills:
Transformation Jutsu, Clone Jutsu, Duplication Jutsu, Fireball Jutsu, Wind Barrier, Steel Flash, Konoha Sword Technique: (87%), Flagwood Sword Technique: (91%), Imperial Feitian Sword Technique: (17%), Sunflower Pointer: (0%), Chidori: (99%), Raikiri: (86%)
After a month of sheer endurance and relentless effort, Mi Blade now stands taller, his power tangible, as if he’s been infused with raw chakra energy. It’s safe to say the young Hatake is well on his way to becoming a formidable force, even if he still has some quirks to work out along the way.
During a rare moment of downtime, Kakashi embarked on an unexpected quest—not for forbidden jutsu or secret scrolls, but for land. He called the plot “Heron’s Tail,” though the name sounded more like an uninspired dish from a mediocre restaurant than a coveted piece of real estate. “I’ll have the Heron’s Tail, please,” he muttered to himself, fully aware no one had ever uttered such a sentence with any enthusiasm. After a month of wandering the countryside, Kakashi felt less like a ninja and more like a lost tourist, clutching his map upside down and hopelessly searching for a destination that may as well have been imaginary.
Mi Blade had his own grand ambitions. For weeks, he’d been dreaming of inviting Uchiha Yu to dinner, but the invitation remained unsent. It was like trying to score a dinner date with a celebrity—there was plenty of hype, but no actual follow-through.
Frustrated by his lack of progress, Mi Blade decided to take matters into his own hands and marched straight to the Uchiha compound, determined to make it happen.
When he arrived, the guards at the gate greeted him with incredulous stares, as if he’d shown up wearing a clown costume, complete with oversized shoes and a bright red nose. One of them even muttered, “This is embarrassing for the Uchiha clan,” as he struggled to maintain his composure.
“Can we have a little decorum here?”
But Mi Blade remained unfazed, his confidence unshaken. With the boldness of a child who had just discovered an unlimited candy stash, he grinned and asked,
“Could you point me to Uchiha Yu? Don’t worry—I’m not here to start a ninja dance party… at least, not yet.”
The guards exchanged bewildered glances, clearly torn between amusement and the instinct to call for backup. After all, how could anyone take this tiny ninja with big dreams and an even bigger appetite for fun too seriously?
After what felt like an eternity (or perhaps just the length of a commercial break during a particularly melodramatic ninja soap opera),
Uchiha Yu finally appeared.
Dressed in sleek, casual black clothes that looked like they had been plucked straight off a high-fashion ninja runway, she exuded an effortless coolness. If she weren’t a shinobi, Mi Blade thought, she could easily moonlight as a superhero—let’s call her “The Dark Avenger,” saving the day with both skill and style.
“Mi Blade!” she greeted him warmly, her smile lighting up the courtyard like a burst of fireworks on New Year’s Eve.
“Sister Yu! I’m sorry it took me so long to invite you to dinner,” Mi Blade began, rolling his eyes dramatically.
“My dad’s been training me like a drill sergeant for over a month. I think he’s trying to turn me into a ninja robot!”
Yu laughed, clearly amused. “Master Sakumo is just trying to help you become stronger.”
“Help me? More like he’s seeing how far he can push me before I lose my mind! But hey, about that dinner… I promise not to bore you with my dad’s training horror stories. I wouldn’t want to spoil the mood!” Mi Blade added with a playful grin, clearly hopeful.
Just as they were about to head off, a little girl—no older than five or six—stormed past them, her tiny frame brimming with determination. Her face was scrunched into a frown so fierce it could rival a thunderstorm.
“Sister Yu!” the girl shouted, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “If you stop training with me, does that mean you’re going on a date with another boy?” Her words were bold, and she stood there like a miniature warrior ready to take on the world.
Yu’s usual composed demeanor softened, her heart clearly melting at her little sister’s outburst.
“Naka…”
But before she could finish, the little girl cut her off, her voice filled with fiery resolve.
“I don’t need you! I can handle it myself!”
Mi Blade, unable to resist the charm of the situation, chimed in with a wide grin, “Is this Sister, Sister Yu? She’s adorable!”
Yu sighed, both exasperated and amused, as she introduced the fierce little girl.
“Yes, this is my little sister, Naka. The future Uchiha superstar.”
Mi Blade beamed, his eyes sparkling with admiration.
“I believe it. She’s got more fire than half the shinobi I’ve met!”
Yu smiled warmly, knowing that Naka’s fierce spirit would one day serve her well, even if, for now, it made her the most headstrong five-year-old in all of Konoha.