Sasuke stared at the cutting board, the knife held awkwardly in his grip. He had trained his hands to wield kunai with precision, to carve through enemies with ease, yet here he was, struggling to cut a simple vegetable.
"I know... I wanted to learn how to cook," he muttered, his voice steady but uncertain. "Maybe not to make anything too fancy, but enough to... well, enough to survive."
Mikoto Uchiha smiled warmly, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "That's a good goal, Sasuke."
Sasuke nodded, though the weight of his mother's words didn't settle properly. He tried to mirror her movements, slicing through a tomato with precision. But no matter how carefully he followed her instructions, the results were never quite the same. His slices were uneven, his seasoning lacked balance, and the consistency was far from what his mother effortlessly achieved.
Tatsuya observed from the corner, arms crossed, unmoving. He made no move to assist, nor did he correct Sasuke's errors. He merely watched.
Sasuke sighed and set the knife down. "This is harder than I expected."
"Of course it is," Tatsuya finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "If it were easy, everyone would be good at it."
Sasuke frowned. "I know that. I just thought... since it's something my mother does every day, I'd have a natural knack for it."
Tatsuya scoffed lightly. "That's not how skill works. If you want to get better, train. Cooking is no different from swordsmanship. You keep at it until your hands remember what your mind struggles to copy."
Sasuke let out a breath, staring at the half-prepared meal before him. Maybe Tatsuya was right. He'd faced grueling battles, survived deadly encounters, and endured harsher training than most shinobi his age. Cooking shouldn't be any different.
But deep down, he knew—it was different.
After Tenten's departure, Sasuke's usual sparring partners had become obsolete. His skill had surpassed theirs, making each match nothing more than a repetitive exercise. There was no growth in defeating an opponent who could no longer push him to his limits.
Tatsuya, ever the observer, noticed this and took action.
"From now on," Tatsuya instructed, "you'll train with these."
He dropped a set of iron plates onto the ground with a heavy thud. Sasuke arched an eyebrow.
"Weights?" he asked, picking one up. "You think this will help?"
Tatsuya's eyes remained sharp. "Strap them to your arms and ankles. If your body moves more slowly, your mind must sharpen to compensate. You will learn to fight not by speed alone, but by instinct, precision, and awareness. Even the strongest Taijutsu user in the world uses the same equipment to push their limits."
Sasuke frowned but did as he was told. The moment he fastened the weights, his limbs felt leaden. When he moved into his usual combat stances, they were sluggish, his attacks lacked their usual sharpness.
It was frustrating. He had spent years honing his technique, yet now he could barely keep up with his movements. The village's young warriors—those who once trembled at the thought of sparring with him—were now landing blows they never could before.
"Tch," Sasuke clicked his tongue, dodging an incoming strike just in time. The weights were making him sloppy.
From the sidelines, Tatsuya remained unfazed. "Good. You're struggling. That means you're improving."
Sasuke shot him a glare but held his tongue. He knew better than to argue. If discomfort were the path to strength, then he would endure it.
Tatsuya's training ground had become a center of attention. The children of Konoha's warriors flocked to it, eager to test themselves against Sasuke. Coins found their way into Tatsuya's hut—donations from the parents who saw the value in their children training under the watchful eye of Konoha's Black Fang.
The young shinobi trained relentlessly, each match against Sasuke ending in their defeat. Yet, instead of discouragement, their failures only fueled their determination. If they could surpass Sasuke, perhaps Tatsuya would acknowledge them. Perhaps he would take them under his wing.
What they didn't know, however, was that Sasuke's training wasn't funded by his generosity. It was funded by his resources—the Uchiha clan's money. If the village parents knew, they would likely do whatever it took, even selling iron pots, to have their children trained under Tatsuya's discipline.
But Tatsuya never accepted students out of convenience. Strength was earned, never given. And Sasuke, through trial and hardship, was proving himself worthy.
Days passed, and then, suddenly, Tsunade appeared in front of the hut. Tatsuya, who usually preferred to lounge in his rocking chair, sat up at the rare sight of her. It had been some time since they had last seen each other.
Last time, Tsunade had stormed off in anger due to some misunderstandings. Soon after, rumors began circulating about her and the casinos. Though the gossip painted a picture of Tsunade enjoying herself, carefree and content, Tatsuya saw it differently—he knew she was simply venting her inner frustration. After all, the Tsunade who could never bring herself to stand up to debt collectors was now going around beating up anyone who dared to collect debts.
"So, you're back? No more gambling halls?" Tatsuya cleared his throat, breaking the silence.
Tsunade's reputation had taken a hit. Anyone who ran a gambling establishment knew that the place would shut down for the day if Tsunade showed up. These days, she wasn't just a nuisance—she was a force to be reckoned with. Anyone who dared to cross her would regret it.
Tsunade chuckled, the playful tone in her voice matching the mischievous glint in her eyes. "A peaceful day... then all these bastards show up." She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.
She hadn't expected the quiet cabin to be so lively now. If she hadn't recognized the familiar faces, she might have thought she had wandered into the wrong place altogether.
At that moment, Sasuke was in the middle of a sparring match in the rudimentary martial arts arena, too engrossed in his fight to greet Tsunade. But Tsunade, ever curious, took an interest in the sparring session.
Sasuke and his opponent were locked in a fierce battle, and Tsunade couldn't help but notice the small openings in the other fighter's movements. She could spot their weaknesses instantly. Sasuke, though, didn't seem to take advantage of those flaws right away. He hesitated just a fraction too long, and by the time he went for the opening, his opponent had already reacted.
Tsunade, having mentored Sasuke in the past, knew that his reaction time should have been faster. The sluggishness was unusual.
As Sasuke took a brief break, retreating to the side to catch his breath, Tsunade noticed the iron plates strapped to his arms and legs. Tatsuya had mentioned before that it was a way to accelerate Sasuke's growth.
"Are those...?" Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "Those weights... those are the same ones Might Guy uses, aren't they?"
Tatsuya smirked. "Sharp as ever, Tsunade. Yes, they are. I figured if the strongest Taijutsu user in the world swears by them, they'd be good enough for Sasuke."
Sasuke wiped the sweat from his forehead, overhearing their conversation. "Good enough? These things are a nightmare," he muttered, flexing his sore arms.
Tsunade folded her arms. "If you think it's bad now, just wait until you get used to them. That's when we'll double the weight."
Sasuke groaned. "You two enjoy my suffering way too much."
Tatsuya chuckled. "Pain is growth, Sasuke. Might Duy and Might Guy didn't didn't surpass everyone else in Taijutsu just by being a genius."
Tsunade smirked. "Well, at least you're in good company. If you can move at full speed with those on, I might start taking your Taijutsu seriously."
Sasuke sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Great. Just what I needed—more expectations."
Tsunade clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him forward. "Welcome to the world of real training, kid."
"For sword users, speed is everything," Tatsuya had explained. "The speed of drawing the blade, moving it, and swinging it—those are all crucial. If you want to unlock the true power of the sword, you can't overlook these factors."
Sasuke frowned as he adjusted the iron plates strapped to his limbs. "Easier said than done," he muttered, flexing his fingers. "These weights are making it impossible to move like I used to."
"That's the point," Tatsuya replied, his voice steady. "You need to learn how to be fast even under pressure. When you take them off, your body will feel lighter, and your speed will increase dramatically."
Sasuke let out a frustrated sigh. "I get it. That doesn't mean it's not annoying."
Tatsuya smirked. "If training were comfortable, everyone would be strong."
Tatsuya was simply passing on his training methods to Sasuke. How far Sasuke would be able to go with this, Tatsuya couldn't yet say. After all, even the original commander had been incredibly powerful.
To thwart Obito and Madara's plan, Sasuke's power is crucial. And the Sasuke of today is far different from the one in the original timeline. While his heart still carries the weight of hatred, he no longer seeks power at any cost.
Tatsuya couldn't be more pleased with this change. In the original story, Sasuke had turned against Konoha, and Tatsuya had been left with a sense of helplessness. Naruto and Sakura, desperate to bring Sasuke back to the fold, had tried—and failed—to set him on the right path. But now, Sasuke was far more reasonable when it came to distinguishing right from wrong.
Had Sasuke remained the way he was, torn between good and evil, he would have quickly become nothing more than cannon fodder in the larger scheme of things.
As for the martial arts arena that had naturally come to form, Tatsuya had given Tsunade a brief rundown. To ease Tatsuya's burden, the children gladly volunteered to serve as sparring partners for Sasuke. Since they were so eager, Tatsuya had no reason to stop them. And the extra income from the competition was certainly a welcome bonus.
Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "You're actually making money off this? Well, well, Tatsuya. I never took you for the entrepreneurial type."
Tatsuya crossed his arms. "It's just a byproduct of the training."
"A byproduct, huh?" Tsunade smirked. "And where exactly are you keeping all these 'byproducts'?"
Tatsuya's eye twitched. "Don't even think about it."
But when Tsunade heard about the money, her expression shifted from her usual stoic demeanor to a wide, playful grin. The sight of it instantly raised a warning flag in Tatsuya's mind.
After all, Tsunade had a much deeper love for money than Tatsuya ever would. If she discovered that Tatsuya had been storing all the competition earnings in the cabin, he had no doubt she would try to make off with it all.
Having lived with her long enough, Tatsuya knew Tsunade's nature all too well. So, when Tsunade made a move to head back to the cabin, Tatsuya instinctively followed.
Meanwhile, the sparring session on the field continued. Sasuke and his opponent were locked in a fierce battle, oblivious to the growing tension elsewhere.
"Come on, is that all you've got?" Sasuke taunted, dodging a strike and countering with a precise slash. "You're too slow."
His opponent gritted his teeth and lunged forward, but Sasuke sidestepped with ease. Even with the extra weight slowing him down, his technique was improving.
However, Tatsuya's concern was now focused solely on Tsunade. Each step she took toward the cabin only added to his anxiety. As a medical ninja, Tsunade's perceptive senses were sharp. Tatsuya's attempts to follow her would be useless in the end.
Tsunade glanced back with a knowing smile. "Relax, Tatsuya. I'm just looking around."
Tatsuya narrowed his eyes. "Like hell you are."
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