Inoiki immediately began executing his plan. First, he channeled lightning chakra into each of the short swords hovering in the sky. In seconds, the blades crackled with electricity—hundreds of them suspended in midair, wreathed in arcs of lightning. It was a sight both awe-inspiring and dangerous, a storm frozen in place and waiting for release.
Once every blade was fully charged, Inoiki focused on the next step: connection.
From the first sword, a bolt of lightning leapt to its nearest neighbor. When the two made contact, they remained linked by a steady current. The lightning continued—jumping from blade to blade, spreading out in all directions. Front, back, left, right—each sword connected with the ones closest to it, forming a network of crackling energy.
Bit by bit, a glowing grid emerged in the sky, with the short swords acting as nodes—interlocked, synchronized, and charged like a living circuit.
Everything was going smoothly. Lightning arced from one short sword to the next, the grid steadily expanding across the sky. But maintaining the connection required immense concentration, and Inoiki's focus was stretched thin.
Then it happened.
Just as the twentieth blade linked into the growing network, a spark jumped toward the next sword—and failed. The current broke. In an instant, the entire grid unraveled, collapsing in a cascade of flickering disconnections.
"Damn," Inoiki muttered, frustrated. "I lost focus for a second... messed it up. Alright—calm down. Try again."
He exhaled, steadying his breath, and started over. One by one, the swords lit up again. Lightning flowed between them, the grid reforming in the air. But this time, the failure came sooner. At the eighteenth sword, the current faltered, and everything fell apart again.
Still, he didn't stop. He knew this technique couldn't be perfected in a single attempt. It would take patience—more than he was used to. So he kept at it, again and again. Sometimes he managed to link forty swords. Other times, only fifteen. But each time, the mistakes came later. The disconnections were fewer. The rhythm of the grid was becoming more stable.
The failures were frustrating—but the progress was real.
Inoiki continued the exercise for nearly two hours, pushing himself to the edge of his limits. By the end, his chakra reserves were nearly depleted, and his best attempt had connected sixty short swords in a single grid—his personal record so far.
Now, breathing heavily, he stood amidst a field of fallen blades. The short swords, once hovering in the sky like charged stars, now lay scattered across the training ground.
Too exhausted to move right away, Inoiki sat down and let his body rest. For half an hour, he stayed there—breathing, recovering, letting the tension drain from his muscles. When he felt stable enough, he raised his hand and began reassembling the sword.
One by one, the short blades floated up, locking into place like pieces of a massive puzzle. When the last blade clicked into position, the giant sword was whole again.
He unrolled the sealing scroll, performed the hand signs, and with a flash of light and a burst of smoke, the weapon vanished back into storage. It drained a lot of his chakra, but he didn't mind. Training was done for the day.
Without another word, Inoiki turned and began the slow walk home—tired, but satisfied.
----
The next morning, after completing his usual physical training, Inoiki resumed work on his new ninjutsu. He didn't hold back. Focused and determined, he pushed through failure after failure—and by the end of the session, he had made real progress. His best attempt connected 80 short swords, and even his lowest score was 40. It was a clear and significant improvement over the previous day.
Another day passed, and with it came more progress. On the following morning, Inoiki trained again. This time, his maximum score reached 95, and his minimum held steady at 70. That consistency marked a breakthrough—linking 70 blades at his lowest meant his control wasn't just improving; it was stabilizing.
Each day, the gap between his best and worst attempts narrowed. The technique was no longer just an experiment. It was becoming reliable.
----
The next morning, Team Kakashi and Team Guy returned from their mission to Sunagakure. Without delay, they made their way to the Hokage's office.
Tsunade looked up as they entered. "It's good to see you all back," she said, her tone warm. "I'm glad none of you were injured."
The members of both teams nodded respectfully.
Kakashi stepped forward. "We owe that to Inoiki. If he hadn't been there, the situation could have gone much worse."
Tsunade nodded, her expression shifting from relief to focus. "I see. Now—did Sunagakure uncover anything new during their interrogation of Sasori?"
Kakashi's face grew grim. "No, Lady Hokage. Sasori refused to reveal anything. Several techniques were attempted to access his memories, but none succeeded. Before any progress could be made… he destroyed his own core. He's dead."
Tsunade's eyes narrowed. "So he took the truth with him."
Kakashi gave a slight nod. "Yes. Whatever he knew—it's gone."
Tsunade let out a slow breath, her voice tinged with regret. "It's unfortunate, but it seems Sasori took most of his secrets to the grave. Still, the information we obtained from Deidara's interrogation has been more than useful. After further questioning by our intelligence division, the core details remained consistent—no new revelations, but we did gain more in-depth insight into the abilities of some Akatsuki members."
Kakashi nodded. "True. But it's not as if we got nothing from Sasori. Before he died, he gave us one crucial piece of information. He knew we were searching for Orochimaru and told us he had arranged to meet one of Orochimaru's subordinates—exactly one week from the day he gave us that intel. That puts the meeting on February 4th."
From the side, Naruto's eyes lit up. "That's huge! If we can track down Orochimaru, we'll be one step closer to finding Sasuke."
His voice was full of hope and urgency. For Naruto, bringing Sasuke back wasn't just a mission—it was personal.
Tsunade looked at him, then sighed quietly.
----
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