Hey guys, here is the new chapter hope you will liked and read thru everything.
If we hit 100 PW I post a extra chapter.
Don't forget to leave your power stones along with your comment if you have any ideas or opinions that could help me, as well as a review to continue showing your support.
Enjoy the chapter!
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Crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him, Daigo was instantly enveloped by the everyday warmth of his home a sanctuary where the weight of his Kazekage robes lost part of its crushing burden.
Barely two steps into the hallway, the heated argument at the dining table came to a sudden halt. Sunae and Daiku turned simultaneously toward the entrance. Sunae, her eyes shining with excitement and her hair slightly disheveled from her previous tantrum, pointed an accusing finger at her brother before addressing her father.
"Dad! You're just in time!" Sunae exclaimed loudly, slamming her hands onto the wooden table. "Tell Daiku once and for all that my use of Scorch Style in the preliminaries was a thousand times cleaner and more effective than his! He keeps saying I left myself exposed, but he has no idea!"
Daiku, maintaining his impeccable posture and characteristic composure, adjusted his chair without flinching and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Don't exaggerate, Sunae," Daiku replied in a calm but firm tone, looking at Daigo. "Dad, analyze the movement. Even though it's powerful, she leaves herself wide open when she attacks. In a real fight against an experienced kenjutsu user, that opening would have been fatal."
Daigo walked slowly toward the dining room, observing his three children with a completely serene expression. With the calm that only years of raising them could grant, he delivered a blunt, dry response:
"Both of you were pretty terrible," Daigo stated without blinking. "If I have to compare executions, Kimimaro's was infinitely better than both of yours combined."
Silence swallowed the table for a full second. Sunae and Daiku blinked at the same time, processing their father's evaluation, before slowly turning their heads toward the far end of the table—where Kimimaro sat in absolute silence, quietly eating his portion of rice with his usual elegance.
Suddenly, two pairs of eyes filled with a fierce, competitive spark locked directly onto Kimimaro.
"Huh?" Kimimaro muttered, freezing his chopstick a millimeter from his mouth and looking left and right, completely caught off guard by his siblings' sudden shift in focus. "Why are you looking at me like that now?"
"Ah, of course! The golden boy with the 'clean' style!" Sunae snapped, standing up on her chair and pointing at Kimimaro with a challenging grin. "Alright, Kimimaro, prove why your bloodline is 'infinitely' better than my Scorch Style according to Dad!"
"Father is only saying that to destabilize your argument, Sunae," Daiku chimed in, though his pink eyes also held a glint of rivalry directed at the Shikotsumyaku user. "Although I can't deny that your defense against that Hidden Cloud ninja's attack was remarkably strong, Kimimaro."
"I was just eating..." Kimimaro murmured with a resigned sigh, lowering his chopsticks as Sunae began loudly explaining why her technique deserved more credit.
From the kitchen doorway, Pakura watched the scene with a soft smile. She walked over to Daigo and stood before him, gently helping him slide the Kazekage robes off his shoulders to hang them on the rack by the door.
"Welcome home, Dai," Pakura said in a warm voice. Before he could answer, she leaned in slightly and greeted him with a tender, deep kiss on the lips.
Daigo returned the kiss affectionately, wrapping his arm around his wife's waist for a brief moment before pulling back. The warmth of the gesture washed away the last traces of exhaustion he carried from the Central Hospital.
"Thanks, Ura-chan," Daigo murmured, giving her a look full of quiet intimacy before heading toward the table. "Looks like the house has been pretty lively today."
"You have no idea," Pakura chuckled softly, following her husband as he took his place at the head of the family table.
Dinner passed amidst laughter, everyday stories, and light debates over the details of the preliminaries. The food Pakura had prepared was bountiful and comforting—a necessary balm after the wear and tear of the past few days. Everyone ate peacefully, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility where the responsibilities of the village remained outside the walls of their home.
However, as dinner drew to a close and the three siblings moved to stand up and retire to their rooms, Daigo's voice called them back.
"Wait a moment before you go," Daigo instructed.
He reached into the inner pocket of his vest and pulled out three scrolls, leaving only two remaining inside. With quick, precise motions, he tossed one scroll to each of his three children.
Kimimaro caught his with flawless reflexes between two fingers. Daiku snatched his out of the air with a steady hand, while Sunae clumsily pinned hers against her chest, nearly dropping the plate she held in her other hand.
"What's this?" Sunae asked, inspecting the polished bamboo container with curiosity.
"I want you to read them tonight," Daigo declared, resting his elbows on the table and looking at the three youths with a serious expression. "And you better not let your victories in the preliminaries go to your heads. You made it to the finals, yes, but you are still weak compared to what you will face further down the line. Until you are capable of beating me in a real fight, you are still rookies in my eyes."
Far from being discouraged, Daigo's words acted like fuel for the three of them.
Daiku clutched the scroll tightly against his lap and bowed his head with absolute respect. "Understood, Dad. I will study every detail."
Kimimaro nodded with his characteristic composure. "Goodnight, Dad, Mom. I'll work hard on the corrections."
Both young men stood up, gave a slight bow to their parents, and walked down the hallway toward the bedrooms. Sunae, for her part, looked at Daigo, playfully stuck her tongue out at him, and then turned to her mother with a bright smile.
"Goodnight, Mom! Dinner was delicious!" Sunae shouted before dashing down the hall, shutting her bedroom door with a sharp thud.
Daigo let out a soft laugh and shook his head at his daughter's antics. Without wasting time, he stood up, began stacking the dirty dishes from the table, and walked over to the kitchen sink to wash them.
Pakura stepped up beside him, holding a dry towel to wipe down the dishes Daigo passed her. As the water ran steadily, Pakura's curiosity finally surfaced.
"What was inside those scrolls, Daigo?" Pakura asked gently, drying a ceramic bowl. "I know you handed handwritten notes to the injured genin at the hospital and a few others, but to our children as well?"
Daigo smiled faintly without taking his eyes off the dishes he was soaping.
"They contain personalized training concepts and ideas," Daigo explained. "I analyzed the blind spots they showed during their fights. It'll help them refine their styles during this month of preparation... because even though everything has been ridiculously quiet on the surface, I have a gut feeling that something is going to happen during the finals."
Pakura paused her movements for a second, glancing sideways at her husband's stern profile. Daigo's intuition was rarely wrong when it came to the safety of the village.
"If something happens, I'll be right by your side," Pakura responded with absolute conviction, resuming her work with firm movements. "This time, I will accompany the official delegation as your personal Kazekage guard. Even if I've stepped back from continuous field missions, my control over Scorch Style is stronger and more refined than ever. No one will cause trouble in our village while I still breathe."
Daigo turned toward her, meeting his wife's resolute eyes, and nodded with a deep sense of pride. He knew perfectly well that Pakura was not only a legendary kunoichi, but a devastating force if anyone ever dared to threaten her family or Sunagakure.
"I know," Daigo said, turning off the tap. "Besides, we aren't alone in this. Rasa, the ANBU, and the 7 Espadas of the Sand are coordinating defense and intelligence preparations alongside the rest of the Council. If anyone tries to use the arrival of foreign delegations to move their pieces, they'll run straight into an impenetrable wall."
With the kitchen spotless and the house settled in peaceful silence, the couple turned off the downstairs lights and retired to their bedroom. After a long and exhausting day, both settled into bed, ready to rest before the sun rose once more over the vast desert.
The next day, the first rays of golden light were just beginning to paint the dunes surrounding the village. The morning breeze brought a cold crispness that gradually dissipated as the sun climbed higher.
At Gaara's family residence, the young boy was sleeping peacefully in his room. With his arms sprawled out and his face relaxed, Gaara was enjoying a deep slumber after yesterday's heavy training session.
WHACK!
A sharp, precise blow echoed through the room as a cylindrical object struck Gaara squarely in the center of his forehead.
"Agh!"
Gaara snapped awake, blinking away his blurry vision as he clutched his head. Reaching up, he felt an object resting right on his nose. He grabbed it, discovering a sealed scroll wrapped with red string.
Confused and still half-asleep, Gaara was about to unroll the scroll right there on his bed, but a slow, calm voice stopped him cold from the shadows of the room.
"Don't you dare open it yet."
Gaara snapped his head around. Sitting on a wooden chair in the corner of the room, with his arms crossed over his chest and his single pink eye fixed on him, was Daigo.
"Uncle... Daigo..." Gaara muttered, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "What... what are you doing here at this hour?"
"I came to bring you your instructions for this month," Daigo replied, standing up with his usual composure. "And you better get out of that bed right now. If you stay under those covers for another five minutes, I assure you that scroll won't be the only thing hitting your head this morning."
Daigo's tone left no room for doubt. Despite the lingering soreness in his muscles, Gaara scrambled out of bed instantly, throwing his blanket aside and slipping into his shinobi sandals in record time.
"I'll be waiting for you at the training grounds," Daigo announced before vanishing from the room in an imperceptible flash of speed.
Exactly five minutes later, Gaara was walking at a steady pace toward the center of the training grounds located in the Kazekage's private zone.
In the middle of the field, Daigo stood waiting with his hands behind his back. Seeing his nephew arrive, the Kazekage nodded in approval.
"Punctual. Good," Daigo said.
Gaara held the scroll in his hands, looking at his mentor with curiosity. "Uncle Daigo... what's inside this scroll? What will our training regimen be for this month before the finals?"
Daigo observed him in silence for a few seconds before answering in a clear, indisputable voice:
"That scroll holds the key for you to reach the next level of your power. However, from this moment on... all the training that follows must be done entirely on your own."
Gaara froze in place, blinking in genuine surprise. "On my own? But... you've always guided me in controlling sand and crystal. Why aren't we training together this time?"
Daigo walked slowly toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder, staring directly into his nephew's green eyes.
"Because you've reached a point in your development where external instruction has its limits, Gaara," Daigo explained in a paternal yet firm tone. "Your fundamentals are flawless; I've taught you the foundation of elemental control, crystal density, and tactical reading of the battlefield. But true mastery of your style won't come from following my orders—it will come from understanding yourself, just like you did when you created your own sand control style."
Gaara listened to every word intently, feeling the weight of the responsibility his uncle was placing upon him.
"At the stage you're in now," Daigo continued, "the only way to progress is by experimenting on your own. You need to discover how your chakra flows when there's no one directing your path, test your limits, create your own variations, and train whatever you feel you need to win in the final phase. Autonomy is what separates a good ninja from a true master."
Gaara lowered his gaze to the scroll in his hands. He tightened his grip around it and let out a long exhalation, feeling his initial hesitation turn into solid determination.
"I understand..." Gaara said, looking up at Daigo with conviction. "I'll read it right away and work on my own. I promise I won't waste this month."
Daigo smiled warmly and gave him two reassuring pats on the shoulder.
"I know you won't," the Kazekage replied. "Remember, if a truly critical question comes up or you need specific resources for your practice, you can find me at the Kazekage Tower. I'll be there attending to the village's affairs."
Without another word, Daigo turned around, took a couple of steps, and dissolved into thin air, leaving Gaara completely alone in the vastness of the training ground.
Gaara stared at the empty space where his mentor had been just a second ago. Then, he sat cross-legged on the hard earth, broke the seal, and unrolled the scroll before his eyes—ready to take his first step on his own autonomous path of training toward the finals of the Chūnin Exams.