Chapter 22: CHAPTER 22
As the crushing aura finally dissipated, Haneda loosened his grip on the wooden tantō. The weapon slipped from his hand with a dull thud, and he dropped to the ground, chest heaving.
That pressure… too much.
He had faced countless dangers in his previous life, but never had he felt this kind of overwhelming helplessness. Sakumo's killing intent wasn't something one could measure by strength alone—it was the embodiment of experience, honed in blood and war.
After a few deep breaths, Haneda managed to steady his voice. Sakumo's calm tone broke the silence:
"Haneda, did you feel it? The will of the sword?"
Haneda's brows furrowed slightly. He thought back to that moment—the sensation of time slowing, his mind freezing, his body refusing to move.
"…It was like an illusion," Haneda admitted slowly. "My thoughts were tangled, my body locked up. It felt like a genjutsu… but different."
Sakumo nodded approvingly. "Not bad. You're close to the truth."
Kakashi, standing at the edge of the clearing, added quietly,
"It didn't feel like a normal killing intent. It… pressed down on everything."
Sakumo's lips curved faintly. His voice grew solemn, carrying the weight of countless battlefields:
"This is no illusion. Illusions manipulate the senses—sight, sound, touch. But this… this is pure will, projected through intent. A force born from life-and-death resolve."
Suddenly, his chakra flared, and that suffocating presence returned for an instant—sharp and lethal, like the gleam of an unsheathed blade. Even the sparrows in the nearby trees fell silent.
"This is the first form of will: raw killing intent. Most seasoned shinobi can unleash it once they've faced enough bloodshed. I've seen Tobirama-sama himself release such pressure—when he did, few dared to breathe."
Then, just as quickly, the weight vanished. Sakumo's demeanor softened again, his presence shrinking until he seemed almost ordinary—yet Haneda's Sharingan still glimpsed the truth: his blade was drenched in silent menace.
"The second form," Sakumo continued, "is control. Channeling that killing intent into your weapon—concealed until the moment of impact. No wasted movement. One strike… one kill."
His voice lowered.
"For samurai, battle is a duel of wills. For shinobi? It's survival."
With that, Sakumo drew the famed White Fang tantō from his back. Chakra surged to the blade's edge with a faint hum, forming a shimmering aura. He swung casually—
Ssssshhht!
The earth split open, a long scar marking the ground.
"This is pure chakra enhancement. No nature transformation. Now…"
He inhaled, and the chakra shifted—dense and cutting, almost tangible. His next swing tore through the air.
A boulder five meters away split cleanly in two with an almost surgical precision. Haneda stared, eyes wide.
"Wind chakra," Sakumo said calmly. "Perfect for close- to mid-range. Sharpness unmatched."
The blade crackled suddenly, arcs of blue lightning dancing across the steel.
"And this—lightning."
He swung once more. The sound of splitting wood cracked the silence.
A massive tree trunk, ten meters away, sheared in half. Jagged scorch marks crawled along the raw edges, sparks still flickering.
BOOM! The tree crashed to the earth, dust billowing.
Root operatives hidden in the treeline froze, sweat dripping under their masks.
If that blade touches us… we're corpses.
Sakumo slid the blade back into its sheath and turned toward the two boys.
"Hatake swordsmanship isn't about flourish. It's the union of three elements: will, steel, and chakra. Lightning for speed and force—perfect for assassinations. Wind for sharpness and precision—cutting through armor, even steel."
Haneda's fists clenched unconsciously. Incredible…
Sakumo's voice softened slightly:
"But Haneda… techniques like this aren't mastered overnight. Even the strongest warriors of the Land of Iron spend decades to grasp the true will of the blade. Few succeed."
He studied the boy for a moment, then smiled faintly.
"That's why I told you—learn the Uchiha style if you want efficiency."
Haneda grinned, eyes bright with stubborn confidence.
"Uncle Sakumo, you said once that advanced swordsmanship shares the same essence, right? Then why settle? I'll learn both. Besides…" His Sharingan gleamed, a spark of defiance in his voice.
"I have both wind and lightning affinity. Isn't that perfect for the Hatake style?"
Sakumo chuckled softly at the boy's audacity.
"Bold words… Good. Let's talk more over food. If we wait too long, there won't be any seats left at BBQ Q."
---
BBQ Q – Private Room
The three of them sat in a modest tatami-lined booth. A grill hissed at the center of the low table, glowing embers radiating warmth.
A waitress entered, smiling brightly—but her eyes lingered a fraction too long on Sakumo.
"Welcome! May I take your order?"
Sakumo passed the menu to Haneda.
"You first. Don't hold back."
Haneda skimmed the options briefly, shrugged, and said,
"Pork belly set with lettuce wraps… and an orange juice with ice. Thanks."
Kakashi shot him a look.
"…Didn't you say kids don't need drinks?"
Haneda grinned. "Orange juice isn't alcohol. Besides, I am a kid."
Sakumo laughed quietly and handed the menu back.
"Two BBQ C sets. And two more orange juices."
Kakashi rolled his eye heavenward.
So much for me deciding anything…
When the waitress left, conversation picked up again. Haneda glanced at Sakumo curiously.
"Uncle Sakumo… don't you drink?"
Sakumo's smile was mild.
"A shinobi must always be ready for deployment. Alcohol dulls the mind and slows the hand. Rule of three: no overindulgence, no arrogance, no carelessness."
Kakashi blinked slowly, then gave his father the most exaggerated eye-roll imaginable.
Haneda caught it and raised a brow. …Does this man drink every night?
Sakumo coughed lightly, a faint flush rising on his cheeks.
"Ahem. Exceptions… happen."