The ANBU training ground was silent.
Fujimoto Tōma stood alone at its center, sword in hand.
First came kenjutsu.
He reached for the blade he had custom-made by Tetsuya the smith and began to move. To an experienced swordsman watching from afar, his form would have looked unremarkable. Some movements weren't textbook. The style lacked elegance. At a glance, it was merely adequate.
But anyone standing here would feel it.
The instant Tōma drew his blade, the air across the training field tightened. A faint but unmistakable sense of danger spread outward, like a thin wire stretched across the throat. It felt as if the sword could strike at any moment, ending a life without warning.
Tōma frowned and stopped.
He understood the problem.
His swordsmanship hadn't grown from tradition or form. It had been shaped entirely around one purpose: killing enemy shinobi as efficiently as possible. It carried the shadow of Hatake Sakumo's style, yet it wasn't truly his. It was something twisted by necessity.
Without a real opponent, practice felt hollow. Worse, using the sword stirred the killing intent he'd worked so hard to suppress.
With a quiet breath, Tōma accepted it.
Kenjutsu would have to wait.
Since inheriting Sakumo's techniques, his progress had been explosive. Even the former ANBU commander had once asked how he trained, remarking that Tōma's blade carried the same pressure as the White Fang's.
Tōma had explained honestly.
The answer hadn't been believed.
"Why not just use ninjutsu?" the man had asked.
That was when Tōma realized something important. This kind of swordsmanship wasn't universal. It fit him because he fit it.
He tapped the blade lightly, then paused, studying it.
"For now, you rest," he murmured.
Before sheathing it, he channeled chakra into his fingertip and carefully etched a name into the guard.
Inkshadow.
He no longer used that codename himself. Giving it to the sword that had followed him for over a year felt right.
Inkshadow vanished into a sealing scroll. Tōma couldn't help thinking, not for the first time, that fuinjutsu was absurdly convenient.
Next came senjutsu.
His chakra reserves were respectable, but still not ideal. Attempting true Sage Mode now would be risky. Natural energy felt calm when he sensed it, almost gentle, but assumptions got people killed.
Better to wait until his killing intent faded completely.
Because of his mental state training, he could now maintain that clarity even while active. However, his sensory growth had stalled, likely diverted toward suppressing violent impulses. Tōma suspected that once those impulses fully settled, his perception would undergo a qualitative leap.
Senjutsu could wait.
Especially since spending time with Ino seemed to calm him faster than anything else.
Finally, ninjutsu.
Lightning release came first. Sparks danced along his body, but Tōma shook his head.
Lightning chakra body conditioning had reached its limit. His earlier theory about becoming resistant to most lightning techniques had been naive. Low-level attacks, maybe. High-level ones? No chance.
His body simply improved faster than its resistance.
At this point, the technique was only useful for reducing fatigue. Still worth keeping.
Electromagnetism, however, remained promising.
He could maintain a stable electromagnetic field around himself and even achieve electromagnetic acceleration. Railgun-level output was still far off, but the control it granted was invaluable.
Kunai moving midair. Blades adjusting trajectory. Weapons striking from blind angles.
He'd even commissioned razor-thin metal discs with no dead angles, though most fights ended before he needed them.
The concept was clear. Strengthening the field further would take time. But maybe expanding its range was the answer.
Sasuke's later Chidori Nagashi came to mind.
If he could reverse-engineer that principle…
Tōma imagined it. A wide magnetic domain filled with Flying Thunder God markers moving freely within it.
A true battlefield under his control.
As for Lightning Blade, he rarely used it. Chidori Blade suited him better. Cleaner. No backlash.
Lightning release was settled.
Wind release was trickier.
A full Wind Release: Rasenshuriken would strain him, but a compact version was feasible. Still, he wasn't convinced it was optimal. The true strength of that technique lay in repeated microscopic cuts.
Tōma preferred finality.
Vacuum Blade and Wind Release: Great Breakthrough felt closer to what wind should be. Pure cutting force. The problem was that Vacuum Wave already sat near the ceiling of standard techniques.
Which meant if he wanted more, he'd have to create it himself.
One decisive slash. Nothing fancy. Nothing surviving it.
For now, he'd follow the existing path and study Rasenshuriken. With Flying Thunder God, escaping its range wasn't a concern.
The rest could wait.
Sealing techniques were last. He had no intention of inventing new ones. Mastery of the Eight Trigrams Seal and Four Symbols Seal was enough for now.
And then there was medical ninjutsu.
Originally, he'd learned it for self-treatment.
Somehow, he'd learned all of it.
Worse, he was good at it.
And the deeper he went, the more questions it raised.
Tōma stood alone in the quiet training ground, eyes on his hands.
There was still a long road ahead.