Yuto smiled slyly, staring at Suigetsu dangling in his grip.
At his words, the half-liquefied Hozuki jolted, body snapping back to normal.
"T-that wouldn't be good… Yuto-dono."
Suigetsu's laugh was nervous. Now that the Mist Seven Swordsmen belonged directly under Yuto, if he lost his candidacy, he would never leave the Hozuki compound again.
And his dream was to restore the Seven Swordsmen's glory.
"What do you think?" Yuto arched a brow.
Suigetsu straightened instantly, eyes sharp, voice firm:
"I was caught off guard. This time, I'll show them the real me!"
Yuto's cold look lingered on him a beat before Suigetsu charged back into the melee.
The clash of steel and explosions of ninjutsu echoed across the training ground.
Each of the fighters was strong, their styles distinct. Such brutal free-for-alls sharpened power and, more importantly, honed awareness.
Especially for Ranmaru and Suigetsu, who lacked polish.
Ameyuri and Kimimaro already had set styles; they only needed refinement and counters for varied foes.
As for Chojuro—his raw strength lagged, but none could match his tactical sense. That, more than power, was why he would one day sit as Mizukage.
Like Jiraiya against Pain, even if defeat awaited, his analysis could pierce the foe's secrets.
Of course, tactics mattered only if the gap wasn't too wide.
Yuto stretched lazily. Beyond Kimimaro, this was about giving the Seven Swordsmen candidates perspective.
Learning when to support, when to lead, so they wouldn't be wiped out in one strike when the time came.
...
Days passed quietly. The shinobi world seemed calm.
Yuto spent the time training his new swordsmen and sparring with Utakata—or more precisely, with the Six-Tails.
...
Konoha.
Inside the mission hall.
"I don't want this! These missions are lame! Give me something tougher!"
Naruto Uzumaki, whisker marks on his cheeks, blond hair spiking wild, shouted in protest.
"You idiot! Everyone starts from the bottom. Even great shinobi built skill on small tasks!"
Iruka snapped, standing up beside Hiruzen.
"Listen, Naruto. Missions are ranked by difficulty. Genin only qualify for D-rank."
Hiruzen exhaled smoke, speaking mildly.
"Old man, you always say that! I'm not a kid anymore! Stop treating me like some prankster brat!"
Naruto puffed his cheeks, glaring.
Hiruzen paused, then smiled faintly. His gaze drifted to a scroll on the desk.
"In that case, how about a C-rank?"
The door creaked open. A drunk old man staggered inside.
...
Hidden Mist.
"Yuto-dono, Hatake Kakashi has left Konoha with three genin and a client. The exact mission remains unknown."
An ANBU knelt before him.
"Oh? So the play begins at last."
Yuto's smile curled.
"Understood. You may go."
Clap. Clap.
He turned to the training ground, where the melee still raged.
At once, the fighters froze, looking at him in surprise. Training had only just begun—why stop now?
Suigetsu sighed in relief. Any reason to pause was a blessing.
"Ameyuri. Suigetsu. Come here."
Both stepped forward. Ameyuri beamed, eager—her growth under Yuto was tangible.
Suigetsu, however, grimaced. When Yuto called him, it rarely meant anything good.
"Prepare yourselves. We're leaving the village."
"Leaving? A mission?" Ameyuri blinked, curious.
"Not quite. I'll take you to meet one of the former Seven—Zabuza Momochi, wielder of the Executioner's Blade."
Yuto's smile deepened.
"Zabuza Momochi!"
Suigetsu's eyes lit up, voice rising in excitement.
"You've always wanted that blade, haven't you? Here's your chance. Whether you claim it… depends on you. Just don't die."
Yuto smirked.
"Heh, I'm Hozuki Suigetsu!" Suigetsu scoffed, though joy sparked in his face.
Ameyuri arched a brow, pressing her crackling blade against him.
ZAP!
Sparks flew, and Suigetsu shrieked, collapsing in spasms.
"Will Yuto-dono go himself?" Ameyuri asked, eyes respectful.
"How could I miss such a fine show? This will be theater worth watching."
His eyes narrowed, gleaming with mystery.
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