Chapter 7 - Graduation and Retirement

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After wrapping up their discussion, Sakumo Hatake clapped his hands together like a motivational speaker who just scored a free lunch.

“Alright, time to show you how it’s done!”

With a flourish that would impress even the most jaded stage magician, he performed the shadow clone technique, and in a flash, two identical copies of himself popped up beside him, grinning like mischievous schoolboys who just found a secret stash of candy.

The shadow clone seal was as straightforward as reciting a nursery rhyme. Seriously, it was easier to memorize than the lyrics to that one annoying song that gets stuck in your head.

But the chakra application? That was the real kicker. It required finesse and focus that could make a seasoned ninja sweat like they just ran a marathon in a sauna.

Miblade and Kakashi, however, were no ordinary kids—they were geniuses in the making, with enough talent to make even the most seasoned shinobi nod in approval—albeit with a hint of envy.

“Let’s get to work!” Miblade exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with determination, while Kakashi gave him a nod of encouragement that said, “Let’s hope we don’t accidentally blow something up.”

They both dove into training as if they were competing for the title of Ninja of the Year, their minds racing and their chakra surging like it was on a caffeine binge.

Before long, both brothers were conjuring physical clones with impressive precision—well, sort of. They soon realized they were limited; no matter how much chakra they summoned, they could only manage two or three clones at a time.

“Don’t push it too hard, or you’ll end up like a deflated balloon!” Kakashi joked, watching Miblade wobble slightly as he tried to create a fourth clone, who was looking about as stable as a three-legged table.

“Speak for yourself! I’m just getting warmed up!” Miblade shot back, barely managing to keep the clones from colliding into each other in a comical flurry of limbs, like a poorly coordinated dance troupe on a sugar high.

After mastering the art of the shadow clone, Sakumo led them into the next challenge: the instantaneous technique. “Alright, buckle up! There are several types of instant techniques out there.

The most common are the Instant Shunshin and the Instant Shunshin Shunshin. They look flashy—like whoosh and poof!—but honestly, it’s just a speedy dash,” Sakumo explained, dramatically imitating a ninja vanishing into thin air as if he were auditioning for a role in a low-budget action film.

“And then there’s the legendary water instant technique used by the demigod ninja Hanzo,” he added, injecting a little seriousness into the lesson, “but for now, we’ll stick with the regular body technique.

You inject chakra into your legs and—whoosh!—you zoom forward! Just be ready; this will require more than a bit of practice. Probably more than your last birthday party balloon animal, if I’m honest.”

The brothers threw themselves into their training, zipping around the yard like caffeinated rabbits who had just discovered a hidden stash of energy drinks, determined to master the techniques before the sun dipped below the horizon.

With each attempt, their laughter filled the air, punctuated by the occasional crash when one brother tripped over a clone or the other lost his balance and went tumbling like a sock caught in a washing machine.

As night fell, and after countless enthusiastic attempts, Sakumo, feeling proud yet slightly exasperated by their antics, retreated inside.

“You two keep at it; I’ll fetch something to help you along!” he called over his shoulder, probably wondering why he didn’t just adopt houseplants instead.

Moments later, he emerged with a collection of scrolls that looked like they belonged in a museum for ancient ninja artifacts.

“Here are some escape techniques I’ve gathered. If you find something that catches your fancy, give it a whirl! Just promise not to blow anything up!”

“Thanks, Dad!” they chorused, their eyes lighting up with anticipation, like kids in a candy store—if that candy store also sold ninja gear.

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They eagerly rifled through the scrolls, laughing as they came across various ninjutsu.

“Water Dragon Bullet! Sounds cool!” Miblade exclaimed, waving a scroll like it was a trophy at a wrestling match.

“And look! Wind Escape: Strong Wind! I can see it now—‘Watch out, here comes the breeze!’” he declared, imagining himself blowing away all the bad guys and maybe even some pesky clouds.

“By the way, Miblade,” Sakumo said, his voice taking on an amused tone as he scratched his chin thoughtfully,

“the Wind Release and Wind Barrier techniques you picked up earlier are great, but since Kakashi’s wind attribute chakra isn’t quite up to snuff, we’re switching things up to Thunder Release and Thunder Barrier!”

With a swift and theatrical flourish, Sakumo performed a one-handed seal, and a shimmering electric wall erupted before him.

It crackled with energy, radiating a fierce magnetism that could repel both physical attacks and ninjutsu like a stubborn bouncer at a club.

“Whoa, Dad, you’re awesome!” Miblade exclaimed, eyes wide with admiration, as he tried not to imagine himself being zapped into a crisp.

Even though the Wind Barrier wasn’t originally a technique in this world, Miblade had somehow processed it through the inner workings of his head—thank you, nifty attribute panel!

He had shared this peculiar fact with Sakumo earlier, and he was pleasantly surprised at his father's ability to adapt it into something even more electrifying.

“This technique isn’t perfected yet,” Sakumo said, a hint of pride in his voice mingled with his usual seriousness.

“With your current chakra volume and control, it’s going to take some more fine-tuning before you can really show off. We’re not ready for the ninja Olympics just yet.”

“Yes, Father! Keep improving it! One day, you’ll dazzle everyone without even needing hand signs!” Miblade replied eagerly, already dreaming of the applause and fanfare.

“Speaking of which, Dad,” Kakashi chimed in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ve got a brilliant idea for a ninjutsu that doesn’t even require hand signs!”

Sakumo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Let’s hear it!”

Kakashi stretched out his hands dramatically and formed two short seals, summoning an impressive display of thunder and lightning that danced around him like an electrified symphony.

“Check this out! I’m trying to condense the thunder attribute chakra in the palm of my hand, then unleash it in a high-speed strike! It should create a massive explosion of destructive power! I call it… umm, I don’t have a name yet!”

Before he could fully form the attack, however, he faltered, panting slightly.

“But right now, I still need to include hand signs for it to work, which is where you come in. I want to learn how to skip that part!”

Kakashi’s theory was surprisingly advanced for his age—something that would have taken most ninja years to conceive.

But with a brother like Miblade who was zooming ahead like a chakra-fueled rocket, who could blame him for wanting to keep up?

Sakumo’s eyes widened, and he nearly dropped his tea.

“My sons are genius ninjas! The blessings of the six immortals are upon us!” He couldn’t contain his excitement, a mixture of pride and disbelief swirling within him. “Miblade has his tricks, and now you, Kakashi! What did I do to deserve such ninja prodigies?”

With no assignments on the horizon lately, Miblade and Kakashi dove into their training regimen with the fervor of two caffeinated squirrels who just discovered an unlimited supply of acorns, much to the amusement of anyone who might have been watching.

Their bond as brothers deepened like the roots of a sturdy oak tree—one that would probably break a few sidewalks, too—each day filled with laughter, playful banter, and the occasional friendly rivalry that ended in mock wrestling matches and unceremonious tumbles that could put a slapstick comedy to shame.

Meanwhile, Sakumo found himself revitalized by the unyielding energy of his sons. It was as if he’d discovered a new calling in life—one that involved enthusiastically studying their ideas like a kid in a candy store, only without the sugar rush and with more accidental injuries. His latest obsession? Adapting the Thunder Barrier he’d developed from Miblade’s Wind Barrier into something even more electrifying.

“If I can channel this kind of energy,” he thought, scratching his chin like a wise old sage who’s just learned how to Google, “maybe I can give Kakashi's thunder techniques a serious zap of brilliance! Or at least some light static shock!”

On this particular day, the ever-enthusiastic Orochimaru decided to drop by, his presence as striking as a neon sign in a black-and-white movie.

With his trademark playful demeanor and a hint of mischief in his eye, he strolled into the courtyard, ready to engage Sakumo in one of their deep, philosophical chats—something akin to debating the merits of pineapple on pizza but much more dramatic.

“So, Sakumo,” Orochimaru began, leaning casually against a tree as if he were auditioning for a role as the next village heartthrob,

“since you’ve hung up your ninja headband, I heard the Third Hokage had quite the decree for you.” He twirled a kunai in his fingers, clearly enjoying the drama like a soap opera villain.

Sakumo looked up from his scrolls, curiosity piqued. “Oh? Do tell.”

Orochimaru smirked, “The old man said that all ninjas in the village should look up to you as a pillar of strength! You know, protect the village, fight the bad guys, be a hero like the legendary Sakumo Hatake! And if you mess up, just say it was all part of your ‘research.’”

“Is that so?” Sakumo replied, a wry smile creeping across his face.

“They really want me to be a hero again, huh? All while I’m just here trying to master the fine art of tea brewing and watching my sons turn into mini-ninjas? You know, someone’s got to keep this house from falling apart!”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short!” Orochimaru laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Your legacy is too big to ignore. Besides, you can always just say you’re ‘retired’ from the field and ‘actively participating’ in research at home! Very scholarly, don’t you think? Sounds much better than ‘dad who forgot how to do cool ninja stuff.’”

Sakumo chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, because what better way to protect the village than to study ninjutsu in the comfort of my garden? Right between the tomato plants and the weeds!”

Miblade, overhearing their conversation, chimed in, “Well, at least you don’t have to deal with the paperwork of being a hero! I hear it’s about as fun as chewing on a rock. And it tastes worse!”

Kakashi nodded in agreement, a serious expression on his face. “Yeah, and with the amount of forms involved, you’d be better off playing shogi with a rock instead! Much less hassle. Plus, the rock never argues back!”

The banter flowed effortlessly, a testament to the camaraderie between them. Sakumo’s gaze drifted momentarily as he contemplated the news; it appeared the Third Hokage had decided to gloss over his past missteps regarding mission abandonment.

“It seems like history has a funny way of rewriting itself,” he mused.

“Even if it means becoming a posthumous hero, I’d rather be remembered for what I did, rather than what I didn’t. You know, like the time I tried to save the last donut in the break room and ended up in a jutsu showdown!”

“Well,” Miblade piped up,

“as long as you’re not the subject of one of those ‘heroes who fell from grace’ tales. Those are never flattering! Imagine your face on a poster titled ‘Epic Fail!’”

Kakashi snickered. “Yeah, imagine a dramatic retelling where you’re the tragic hero who accidentally burnt the village’s lunch during a fireball jutsu practice! ‘And he ignited the spaghetti of doom!’”

“Or worse, left the village on a mission to take out the trash!” Miblade added, laughing so hard he nearly snorted, which sent Kakashi into a fit of giggles.

“What kind of ninja gets sent to the dumpster?”

As their laughter echoed into the evening, Sakumo felt an unusual sense of relief wash over him. It was a strange comfort to know that his legacy, though complicated, would continue to inspire.

With his sons by his side and a community eager to learn from his past, he realized that every twist and turn of his journey—triumphs, mistakes, and all—had shaped the heroes they were becoming.

“Results may vary,” he thought to himself with a grin, “but if the path ahead is filled with laughter and a few electrifying experiments, I’d say I’ve got it made. Now, where did I leave that tea?”