Chapter 202: Chapter: 200

Hey guys, here is the new chapter hope you will liked and read thru everything.

If we hit 200 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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Inside the kitchen, an almost strange stillness hung in the air, standing in stark, profound contrast to the chaos, the roar of jutsus, and the smell of smoke that the Village Hidden in the Sand had been forced to endure during the dramatic days of the combined invasion.

Daigo sat quietly at the main wooden table, holding a ceramic mug in his hands that emitted the gentle steam of freshly brewed coffee.

His posture was relaxed, but his gaze, fixed on the small whirlpool formed by the dark liquid as it was stirred, betrayed that his mind was miles away, navigating through thoughts and things that came and went.

The clean bandage covering the right side of his face accentuated the sharpness of his features, while his single exposed eye reflected a weary yet infinitely serene glint.

Just a few feet away, resting comfortably on the spacious living room sofa, Pakura was enjoying the same morning peace.

She wore a loose house robe that draped elegantly over her figure and held her own mug between her fingers.

With her other hand, she casually flipped through a scroll filled with medical reports and damage assessments from the village. However, no matter how hard she tried to focus on the supply figures and first-responder reports, her attention kept drifting toward her husband sitting at the table.

She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye—once, twice, three times—noticing the unusual silence in which Daigo was immersed.

Finally, unable to contain her curiosity at seeing her husband so lost in thought so early in the morning, Pakura slowly lowered the scroll onto her knees and broke the silence with a soft voice, laced with a touch of playful warmth.

"What's on your mind so early in the morning, Dai? If you keep staring at that cup so intently, you're going to end up freezing the coffee with your gaze."

Daigo seemed to snap out of his trance all at once. A slow blink from his left eye marked the return of his awareness to the present.

He turned his head slowly toward the sofa, fixing his attention on Pakura. Looking at her there, bathed in the warm morning light, a sincere, deep smile—completely free of any military pretense—formed on his lips.

"I was thinking about how lucky I am," Daigo replied in a low, velvety tone.

"How lucky a man is to wake up every morning, in the middle of a world as chaotic as this one, and realize that the very first thing his eyes see is the most beautiful woman in the whole world sitting in his living room."

The response caught Pakura completely off guard. Despite having shared battles, victories, defeats, and more than a decade of life together, the spontaneity of the compliment caught her utterly defenseless.

Her cheeks, usually weathered by the harsh desert sun, flushed a vivid and lovely shade of crimson within seconds. Instinctively, she raised the scroll in her hands to cover the lower half of her face, trying in vain to hide the embarrassed smile that threatened to give her away.

Daigo let out a low chuckle as he witnessed the scene. The satisfaction he derived from seeing that reaction hadn't faded with the passage of time.

He found it fascinating how, even after nearly thirteen years together, raising three children, and carrying the political destiny of Sunagakure on their shoulders, small and unexpected gestures of affection still had the power to draw a youthful blush from the fearsome Scorch Style heroine.

Regaining control of her emotions and shooting him a look that was equal parts indignant and amused, Pakura folded the scroll and set it on the coffee table beside her mug.

She rose from the sofa with her characteristic fluid elegance, walked slowly toward the kitchen table, and without asking for permission or hesitating for a single second, sat directly on Daigo's lap, wrapping one arm around his neck as she adjusted her position.

"You're shameless, Kazekage," Pakura murmured, raising an eyebrow playfully while looking at him from just inches away.

"Since you're in such a suspiciously romantic mood... shouldn't you already be at the main office supervising the reconstruction of the outer walls or attending to the trade delegations?"

Daigo placed his mug on the table to avoid any accident and wrapped a firm arm around Pakura's waist, securing his hold and enjoying her closeness.

"Not today," he answered with absolute tranquility, leaning back slightly.

"Before sunrise, I sent two Shadow Clones with a ridiculous amount of chakra straight to my office. One is signing minor administrative files and the other is coordinating the reconstruction of the remaining damaged buildings. Today, I decided to take the day off. I have infinitely more important matters to attend to right here, in my own home."

Pakura narrowed her eyes, knowing him well enough to realize that behind this apparent laziness hid a much deeper and intentional reason.

"And may I know what those top-priority matters are for the great leader of the Sand?"

Daigo's smile softened, growing more sober and reflective. He let out a slow sigh before answering, allowing the atmosphere between them to turn intimate and serious.

"Yesterday afternoon I spoke with Sunae," Daigo began to explain, retracing the images of that conversation in his memory.

"She came looking for me at the office after the council meeting. She was completely broken, Ura-chan... overwhelmed by pain, by what she saw in the medical tents, by the useless guilt of not having been able to do more during the invasion, and by the frustration she's been carrying since the tournament finals. Seeing her cry in my arms like that hit me like a bucket of cold water. I realized that I've been so submerged in the village's problems, in repairs, resources, and the Akatsuki threat, that I set aside what matters most. I didn't stop to see how our children were truly doing on the inside."

Pakura listened to every word carefully, nodding with deep empathy. Her fingers gently stroked the long hair at the nape of Daigo's neck.

She had also noticed the shift in Sunae's attitude over the past two days; the young girl used to fill the house with laughter and boundless energy, but lately she had been walking around in silence, with a distant look and shoulders weighed down by a bitterness unsuited for her age.

However, Pakura had chosen not to push her, waiting for her to find the right moment to vent on her own.

"Our three children witnessed a real war for the first time in their lives, Dai," Pakura said in a calm, reflective voice.

"It wasn't an academy practice or an escort mission against roadside bandits. They saw buildings collapse, heard people scream, and felt the presence of true monsters. It's only natural that their minds and hearts are trying to process the impact of what it means to be a shinobi in this world."

"I know," Daigo agreed. "But I won't allow them to drown in that guilt or helplessness. They are my children, and if the world around them is growing darker and more dangerous, my duty as a father isn't just to protect them, but to give them the tools so they can crush any threat that tries to hurt them."

Before the conversation could go any deeper, the clear sound of firm footsteps descending the wooden staircase echoed in the adjacent hallway. The wood creaked in a steady, calculated rhythm, betraying the discipline of the person coming down.

Pakura adjusted herself slightly on Daigo's lap, though she didn't get up, as Kimimaro appeared in the archway of the living room.

The youth was dressed in his full tactical gear: fitted dark pants, a light tunic with slits for easy deployment of his Kekkei Genkai, and the Sunagakure forehead protector tied neatly across his brow.

He appeared completely ready to go out for his daily training routine. However, upon entering the room and encountering his parents in such an affectionate, domestic scene, he stopped in his tracks. A quick blink was the only sign of surprise that crossed his usually expressionless face.

"Good morning, Dad. Good morning, Mom," Kimimaro greeted with a respectful nod of his head, maintaining his usual tone of voice.

"Good morning, son," Daigo and Pakura replied almost simultaneously.

"Kimimaro," Daigo called out, gesturing briefly with his free hand.

"Before you step out that door and go off to your usual routines, sit down at the table for a moment. I want to talk to you."

The young man asked no questions and showed no objection. He stepped forward in silence, pulled out one of the wooden chairs, and sat bolt upright, hands resting on his thighs and eyes fixed on his father, waiting for his words.

Daigo locked his single pink eye onto Kimimaro's calm gaze. For a few seconds, Daigo said nothing, simply analyzing his son's posture, breathing, and the aura of chakra surrounding him.

"What is truly going through your mind regarding everything that happened in the village during the attack, Kimimaro?" Daigo asked seriously.

"Is there anything you can't understand, any doubt eating away at you from the inside, or any question you can't find an answer to?"

The question seemed to hang in the air for a few moments. Kimimaro didn't answer hastily; he processed his father's words, weighing his own experience during the crisis.

"To be honest, Dad... I don't have any doubts or confusion in my head about what happened," Kimimaro answered with an extraordinarily firm and mature voice.

"Seeing the scale of the attack, witnessing how the Iwa troops and the members of Akatsuki tried to reduce our village to ashes, and then seeing you enter the battlefield to crush the Tsuchikage all by yourself... made things completely clear to me. I understood my place and my path. I only have one goal: I must become as strong as you, or even stronger, so I can be a true shield for this family and an unwavering pillar for the village. The only thing currently occupying my head in a negative way... is the slow recovery of Temari and Kankuro from the injuries they sustained in the tournament."

Daigo listened to every word with a mix of pride and deep satisfaction. Kimimaro's emotional maturity had always been beyond boys his age—he never quite knew where he got it from, since he and Pakura had showered him with all the love possible.

"Of the three, you've always been the one with the most centered and analytical mind, Kimimaro," Daigo expressed, nodding his head.

"It brings me great joy to see that your vision hasn't been clouded by fear or trauma. Precisely because of that determination you have, I'm going to personally take charge of helping you take the next big leap in your development as a shinobi."

A spark of curiosity immediately gleamed in Kimimaro's dark eyes. He leaned his torso forward slightly.

"How will we do that, Dad? If I'm being honest... over the past two months I've felt that my mastery over my Shikotsumyaku and my physical speed have hit a ceiling. I feel like I've stalled."

Daigo flashed a mysterious, confident smile.

"Don't worry about that. That 'ceiling' you speak of will break soon," Daigo assured him.

"For now, I want you to head to the central hospital. Visit Temari and Kankuro, check on their condition with your own eyes, and give them a message from me to get well soon. While you do that, your two sleepyhead siblings will finish waking up and coming down to reality. I want us all to meet at my Training Ground in two hours."

"Understood, Dad," Kimimaro replied, standing up from his chair immediately. He gave a brief bow to both parents and left the house with a decisive stride, fueled by a renewed sense of expectation.

Barely ten minutes after the front door closed behind Kimimaro, a heavy, clumsy commotion began echoing from the upper floor. The shuffling of slippers and a loud yawn announced the arrival of the second sibling. Daiku came down the stairs disheveled, shirt slightly crooked, rubbing one eye with the back of his hand—the spitting image of someone who had just been dragged out of a deep sleep.

Upon reaching the living room and seeing his father still seated at the table with Pakura, Daiku stopped, blinked a few times to clear his vision, and greeted them in a lazy voice.

"Good morning... strange seeing you at home at this hour, Dad."

Daigo let out a light laugh and gestured for him to come over.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. Come here for a second."

Daiku obeyed, stepping toward the table while fixing his messy hair. Daigo didn't beat around the bush and asked him the exact same question he had posed to Kimimaro moments earlier, wanting to gauge his youngest son's state of mind.

Upon hearing the question, Daiku's carefree expression vanished completely, replaced by a scowl of obvious frustration. The young boy clenched his fists at his sides and cast his gaze down at the wooden floor.

"I feel weak, Dad," Daiku confessed with a brutal honesty that bordered on anger at himself.

"I know Naruto is strong because he has the Nine-Tails, but getting defeated that easily didn't sit right with me. All I want right now is to get infinitely stronger. I know my swordsmanship still has giant flaws and I lack the speed to react against higher-level ninjas. I want to master the blade once and for all."

Daigo observed the spark of rage and ambition in Daiku's eyes. Unlike Kimimaro's cold composure, Daiku possessed a more visceral, passionate fire that he tried to hide from others—one that mirrored the great swordsmen who constantly sought to push past their physical limits.

"Frustration isn't a flaw, Daiku; it's the most powerful fuel that exists for a warrior, as long as you know how to channel it properly," Daigo told him in a firm, motivating tone.

"Your path with the sword is just beginning. Don't despair. Go to the kitchen, eat something nutritious to build up your energy, and I want you at the Training Ground in a couple of hours. Today, you start a different kind of training."

Daiku's eyes lit up instantly upon hearing his father's words. His morning laziness evaporated like water in the desert.

"Alright!!" the boy exclaimed, grabbing a couple of apples from the counter before running out the back door toward the courtyard to start stretching.

Pakura and Daigo were left alone once again in the dining room. The conversation between them flowed naturally as they commented on the stark contrast in personalities between Kimimaro and Daiku. However, their quiet moment was broken drastically just fifteen minutes later.

A stampede of hurried footsteps echoed down the upstairs hallway, followed by the sound of someone leaping over the last four steps in a single bound. Sunae burst into the living room like a gust of wind, wearing her spotless training uniform, hair tightly tied back, and an energy that seemed to have swept away all the shadows from the previous day.

Without warning or slowing down, the young girl launched herself in an acrobatic leap straight toward the table, opening her arms to wrap Daigo and Pakura in a group hug.

"Good morning, you two!" Sunae shouted with a radiant smile that lit up the entire room.

Pakura and Daigo shared a laugh at the sudden onslaught, wrapping their arms around their daughter to make sure she didn't fall or knock over what was left on the table.

"Good morning, hurricane," Pakura said affectionately, gently ruffling her bangs. "Looks like you woke up with fully charged batteries today."

"I sure did! I talked to Dad yesterday, and I don't have time to be sad or doubt myself anymore!" Sunae declared with contagious pride, puffing out her chest.

"I'm so happy to hear that, my princess," Daigo said, giving her a loving kiss on the forehead. "Now go get a quick breakfast. Your mother and I were just talking about you three. Get your gear ready because you need to be at the training ground shortly."

"A training session for the three of us?" Sunae asked, eyes wide with wonder. "Are you going to teach us a new jutsu?"

"It's a surprise," Pakura chimed in with an indulgent smile. "So don't waste time asking questions and go get ready."

Sunae nodded with boundless enthusiasm, spun on her heels, and dashed off to the kitchen to devour her breakfast, humming a cheerful tune that thoroughly cleared away any remaining tension in the house.

Two hours later, the midday sun fell relentlessly over the vast expanse of sand and rock that formed the Training Ground. It was a remote terrain, surrounded by tall natural rock formations that acted as windbreaks and shielded the area from prying eyes.

The three siblings—Kimimaro, Daiku, and Sunae—were lined up in a perfect row, backs straight and eyes fixed on Daigo, who stood about five meters away, hands patiently folded behind his back and his official robe fluttering gently in the dry breeze.

Daigo observed them in silence for several minutes. Despite being only thirteen years old, the volume of chakra accumulating in their bodies, the density of their presence, and the tactical maturity they had acquired on the village streets far surpassed the abilities of most Chunin and even several experienced Jonin in the Sand.

However, Daigo knew perfectly well that the shinobi world was about to enter an era of unprecedented hardship. With the shadows of Akatsuki moving and the major nations realigning their pieces after the invasion, his children's current level would not be enough to guarantee their survival. They needed to make a quantum leap forward.

"Alright," Daigo broke the silence, raising his voice enough for it to echo across the entire field.

"Before we begin with any physical instruction, I want to ask you three a very simple question. What do you really know about the Summoning Jutsu?"

Sunae was the first to react. She took a step forward with her characteristic energy and raised her hand.

"It's a high-level space-time jutsu!" she answered confidently.

"It allows you to form a blood contract with an animal species or creature to summon them anytime, anywhere. They're used for transport, medical support, tracking, or fighting side-by-side in full-scale battles."

Daiku chimed in next, crossing his arms and adopting a more analytical stance.

"They aren't just simple pets or randomly summoned creatures," the swordsman added.

"They're real allies with their own society, hierarchy, and jutsus. A summoner has to earn the respect of the tribe they sign with; otherwise, the creature can refuse to obey or even attack its own summoner."

Kimimaro looked at his father and concluded the explanation with his usual composure.

"Dad, you hold an active summoning contract with the impressive elephant leader who lent us her strength during the attack, right?"

Daigo nodded approvingly, pleased with the theoretical knowledge the three displayed.

"Flawless answers from all three of you," he praised.

"The one you saw is named Matangi. She isn't just a powerful summon; she's the matriarch of the Elephant Valley tribe, an ancient line of sacred beasts that rarely accept alliances with humans. Last night, I took the time to communicate directly with her and Daisen. We spoke at length about the future of the village, the impending war, and the three of you. After considering it, both leaders have made an extraordinary decision: they have granted their consent for the three of you to sign the summoning scroll."

A collective gasp of astonishment escaped the throats of the three siblings. Sunae and Daiku's faces lit up with unbridled excitement, while Kimimaro opened his eyes in visible surprise, instantly grasping the magnitude of the gift their father was bestowing upon them.

Without wasting a single second, Daigo formed a fluid sequence of hand seals.

*Summoning Jutsu!*

*BOOM!*

A massive curtain of white smoke erupted right in the center of the training ground, kicking up a gust of wind that swept the sand in all directions.

As the dense smoke began to clear, it revealed a large, weathered scroll of dark leather, standing nearly two meters tall. The structure rolled across the surface until it unfurled completely over the sand, exposing a column designated for contract signatures.

At the top of the scroll, written in firm strokes with blood that retained an eternal sheen, a single name stood out: *Daigo*.

"Step forward," Daigo commanded in a grave voice. "Bite the tip of your finger. Write your full name in your own blood beneath mine, and press the five-finger mark of your dominant hand right beside it. From that second on, your lives and chakra will be spiritually bound to the Elephant Valley."

Daiku didn't wait to be told twice. He was the first to step forward, drew a short kunai from his thigh, made a small cut on his thumb, and with absolute concentration, traced his name in decisive strokes across the ancient leather, leaving his right handprint embedded on the surface.

"Done!" Daiku exclaimed with a fierce smile.

Kimimaro stepped forward next with calm strides. With a subtle movement of his Kekkei Genkai, he sprouted a small, sharp bone spur from the tip of his index finger, pricking himself with precision to draw the necessary blood. He wrote his name in spotless, clean calligraphy beneath his brother's, sealing the pact with his palm.

Finally, Sunae hopped over in excitement. She brought her thumb to her mouth, bit the skin without a moment's hesitation, and traced her name in large, firm letters, pressing all five fingers onto the scroll with contagious resolve.

"It's done, Dad!" Sunae called out, turning around with her eyes beaming with pride.

However, at the exact instant the last drops of Sunae's blood settled on the paper, the scroll began to emit a blinding flash of light. A high-pitched, vibrating hum hummed through the air, drastically altering the chakra density across the entire training field.

Before any of the three youths could react, ask a question, or take a step back...

*POOF! POOF! POOF!*

Three simultaneous explosions of snow-white smoke completely enveloped the three siblings. A powerful reverse air current generated at the center of the ground, vacuuming up the light and presence of the kids in a fraction of a second.

When the wind finally dispersed the smoke, the Training Ground was left in absolute, total silence.

The three youths had vanished without a trace.

Daigo remained standing in the same spot, gazing at the massive surface of the scroll unfurled at his feet, where all four names now glowed in perfect harmony. A soft, measured chuckle escaped Daigo's chest.

He adjusted his robe over his shoulders, looked up at the clear blue desert sky, and smiled with pride and amusement.

"Let's see how they handle realizing that signing activates an immediate reverse-teleportation straight to the sacred territory of the Elephant Valley..." Daigo muttered to himself, imagining the chaos his three children were about to witness.

"Make good use of your time, kids... because in three years, the world is going to need the strongest warriors the Sand has ever seen."