Sound Village — A Small Wooden Pavilion
Three figures sat around a low table, tea steaming quietly between them.
In reality, only Akio was drinking.
The two across from him were corpses brought back by Edo Tensei—thirst wasn't exactly a concern anymore.
Orochimaru had hit a wall while trying to replicate Madara's cells. Akio suspected the problem lay with Indra's chakra—a genetic and spiritual anomaly that simply couldn't be cracked overnight.
With Training Dummy #1 (Madara) unavailable, Orochimaru had summoned the still-"spare" Hashirama and Tobirama instead.
They'd been talking for an entire day and night.
Well—Akio had been talking.
The other two mostly listened as he casually recounted the major events of the ninja world over the past few decades.
After a long silence, Tobirama finally spoke.
"Mirror's gotten old."
Akio nodded.
Uchiha Kagami was past sixty now, his strength slowly fading. If he were still in his prime, the Senju–Uchiha power struggle wouldn't even exist.
"So," Akio said with a relaxed smile, "after hearing all that, any thoughts on the mess Konoha's in? Because I'm done playing referee. Every side thinks they're right."
Tobirama frowned.
"You should step in. Decide things cleanly. Either restore Minato as Hokage, or let Nawaki inherit the role. And if the Uchiha—"
Hashirama waved him off.
"Force won't solve this. Honestly, that kid Obito sounds promising. Konoha owes the Uchiha a Hokage."
"Brother—!"
Akio leaned back, amused, watching the brothers argue like old times.
The conversation spiraled quickly—somehow even blaming Tsunade's bad habits on Hashirama.
Eventually, all three laughed.
"The current Konoha should be resolved by the people living in it," Hashirama said calmly. "We're relics."
"I'm not," Akio shot back immediately. "I'm still alive."
Tobirama chuckled.
"To the younger generation, you might as well be ancient history."
Akio laughed.
"Oh, I know. Plenty of them are probably thinking, Why won't this old man just die already? That irritation alone keeps me going."
He stood up.
"Alright. Time to treat Kimimaro. After that, I'll need you two for something serious."
Hashirama and Tobirama exchanged a glance.
"Serious?"
Training Ground — Later
"Watch closely. This is the Gentle Fist—Twenty-Four Forms."
Akio flowed through the movements.
"This one's a heavy striking style—knee drives, shoulder checks, palm breaks."
He paused, frowned.
"…And this is—no. Forget that one. That style's terrible."
"This is a vortex-based movement technique…"
"This is Konoha's standard combat flow…"
It took nearly an hour to demonstrate everything he'd accumulated over a century.
"I want to combine the best parts of all this," Akio said seriously.
"A new taijutsu style. I need your help."
"Tobirama—analyze structure and efficiency. Hashirama—be my sparring partner."
They agreed.
Tobirama's first critique was blunt.
"Cut the excess. Choose a core style."
Akio nodded.
The core would obviously be Gentle Fist—even if removing parts of it would take time.
A lot of time.
One Month Later — Outside the Sound Village
Fists collided again and again.
Akio had reduced hundreds of techniques down to eighteen core forms.
Against Hashirama—who was using Sage Mode—Akio held his ground, deflecting, countering, even gaining advantage at times.
Hashirama's experience hadn't diminished. The only real disadvantage of Edo Tensei was durability—one Sage Mode compensated for easily.
Akio landed another clean strike and stepped back.
"That's it. Eighteen forms."
He laughed.
"Well, naming solves itself. Akio's Eighteen Forms—clean and simple."
"Congratulations," Hashirama said warmly.
Tobirama approached with Kimimaro, Karin, and Haku behind him.
Kimimaro's condition was stable now, and the three had resumed training under Tobirama's guidance.
Haku, in particular, had improved rapidly—her Ice Release paired well with Tobirama's specialized Water techniques.
Akio turned proudly.
"So? What do you think?"
Tobirama hesitated.
"It's excellent—in your hands. But beginners might struggle. If they can't generate proper force, some strikes will lack finishing power."
"…So it turns into… gentle taps?" Akio grimaced.
"That said," Tobirama added quickly, "it's incredibly stable. Defensive, adaptable. Against stronger opponents, it prevents being overwhelmed. Against weaker ones… it wins slowly."
Akio fell silent.
Stronger enemies: no immediate loss.
Weaker enemies: no quick victory.
"…That's a problem," he muttered.
He stared at the style he'd created—successful, yet flawed.
And began thinking how to fix it.
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