After a long exhale, Anko rubbed the back of her neck and forced a strained smile. "Hinata… can we steer the ship toward the Land of the Sea next? The Hokage assigned me this mission—but, honestly, I also have a personal reason."
Hinata didn't pry. She simply nodded. "Alright."
"Thanks," Anko said gratefully.
Seeing how exhausted Anko looked, Hinata let her rest in the cabin. She then went out to brief Kiba and Shino on their new course. Neither objected—after all, towing the ship was the same no matter the direction.
"What are they doing?" Ino asked curiously, watching Kiba and Shino from afar.
"Training," Hinata replied simply.
"Training? On a boat?" Ino looked incredulous. She quickly realized they were using the ship's resistance as weight training—but still, it seemed excessive.
Of course, the training alone wasn't what made it effective. The key was how it combined with constant sparring. As Ino would soon witness, Hinata's method was as brutal as it was efficient.
That evening, before dinner, a sparring session began—Hinata against both Kiba and Shino together.
It had become a routine on their journey: two-on-one matches, relentless repetition, survival of the fittest. Anyone who couldn't adapt would be left behind.
Under Hinata's relentless guidance—and frequent beatings—Kiba and Shino had grown tremendously. Their teamwork, timing, and precision had become seamless.
"Fang Over Fang!" Kiba roared, spinning forward at high speed.
Shino's insects swarmed immediately after, filling the opening in Kiba's attack pattern. Their combined strike left not even a breath of space between moves.
Ino's eyes widened. "W-Wow… unbelievable," she murmured. In just a few months, their progress was astounding—a complete transformation from the teammates she once knew.
Sakura watched silently, clenching her fists. Compared to Hinata's calm ferocity, she felt her own weakness all too clearly.
When the spar ended, she took a deep breath and stepped forward. "Hinata," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "could you… could you teach me? I want to become stronger!"
Hinata smiled gently. "Of course."
Naruto, squinting, crossed his arms. "Hold on! You beat Sasuke, right? Then fight me next! I'm not weaker than him!"
Hinata blinked, looking flustered. "Eh? N-No… I can't fight you, Naruto-kun."
Her tone softened. Even though her feelings had changed since childhood, a part of her still admired him. The thought of hurting him—even in sparring—made her heart flutter uncomfortably.
"No way! I'll fight you!" Naruto insisted.
Kiba sighed and gestured toward himself. "How about you fight me first?"
Naruto hesitated. "Fine. But if I win, Hinata—you fight me next!"
Hinata thought for a moment, then nodded with a smile. "Alright."
The match began.
It ended almost immediately.
Naruto, though strong and determined, lacked systematic training. His shadow clones were no match for Kiba's stamina, honed through months of grueling resistance work and combat drills. His Rasengan, though powerful, couldn't land against Kiba's reflexes—reflexes forged from being beaten by Hinata countless times.
Naruto poured all his strength into the fight, even tempting the Nine-Tails to lend its power. But the beast refused.
In the end, Naruto collapsed, drained of chakra, battered, and barely able to stand on the sea's surface. Kiba, while panting, had suffered only minor scrapes.
Both were stunned by the result.
Kiba blinked in disbelief. "Am I… really that strong?"
He had sparred against Hinata for so long that he'd come to see himself as perpetually weak. Being on the receiving end of her strength day after day had warped his perception.
Sakura watched the match quietly, determination flickering in her eyes. She clenched her fists. Before this mission ended, she would train under Hinata. She refused to fall behind. She wanted to catch up—to stand beside them, not behind them.
Seeing Sakura's resolve, Ino sighed softly, then smiled. "Count me in too."
Naruto, though defeated, simply grinned. Deep down, he understood—this was what strength meant.
For those aiming to become Hokage, power was not optional—it was essential.
From that day forward, the number of "tugboat trainees" increased from two to five. No more taking turns.
When Anko finally recovered enough to go up on deck, the scene that greeted her was both bizarre and amusing.
Naruto, Sakura, Ino, Kiba, and Shino were all tied to thick ropes, their faces flushed red as they struggled to pull the massive ship forward across the water.
Anko raised an eyebrow. "...Did I miss something?"
There wasn't much difference between one person tugging the boat and five people doing it together—except for the total weight.
Judging by their performance, Hinata had apparently taken something heavy from her scroll and added it to the ship's cargo, adjusting the load so that all five had to give their full effort just to move it an inch. It was her way of ensuring no one slacked off.
When faced with something truly difficult, perseverance was rare when alone—but with companions, the situation changed. The presence of others fostered competition, pride, and the simple refusal to be the one who gave up first.
Ino had wanted to quit barely ten minutes into the "tugboat training." Her clan's secret techniques specialized in support and mental control—not physical endurance. Why, she wondered miserably, did she have to suffer through this?
In contrast, Sakura's entire body trembled with exertion. Muscles strained, veins bulged across her forehead, yet her teeth remained clenched. The word quit didn't exist in her vocabulary.
At that point, Kiba and Shino, who had grown accustomed to the exercise, started offering advice.
"Don't force it," Kiba said between breaths. "You'll burn out too fast."
"Regulate your breathing," Shino added calmly. "Match it to your heart rate. Control the rhythm, not the rope."
Anko watched the scene for a while, an amused smile tugging at her lips. She turned to comment to Hinata—only to realize the girl was no longer there.
"Already gone, huh?" Anko chuckled softly. "So young, yet so full of herself. Guess a little arrogance comes naturally when you're that strong."
She leaned on the railing, gazing out at the horizon. "Still… she's just a kid."
The fable of the tortoise and the hare drifted through her mind. To Anko, Hinata was the hare—brilliant, confident, perhaps a bit too sure of herself. With power rivaling Orochimaru's at her age, who could blame her? If she had possessed such strength at twelve, Anko mused, she would have been proud too.
…
By midday, Isaribi returned from the sea, dragging in a fishing net brimming with deep-sea fish.
When Anko and her team saw the half-human, half-fish girl for the first time, they froze in shock. Anko's reaction was especially sharp—something about Isaribi's appearance stirred old, unpleasant memories.
But their surprise soon turned into astonishment of another kind.
Few people had ever witnessed Hinata's frightening appetite—and Anko's team was certainly not among them. When they saw the enormous catch Isaribi brought back, they assumed it was for sale or trade.
That illusion shattered the moment Hinata sat down to eat.
As dish after dish disappeared, the four newcomers stood dumbfounded. Only Kiba, Shino, and Isaribi remained unperturbed.
Once the meal ended, Hinata quietly excused herself and returned to her cabin. She never performed her more dangerous training in front of her teammates, aware that they might try to imitate her—and without the Ten-Tails' chakra or proper medicine, self-harming training would destroy their bodies rather than strengthen them.
"What does Hinata do in there all day?" Anko asked curiously later that night.
Kiba and Shino exchanged glances, then shrugged. "She doesn't say," Kiba replied.
"And we don't ask," added Shino.
Even Isaribi shook her head, equally in the dark.
Seeing their responses, Anko came to her own conclusion: Hinata's grown complacent. A genius who had reached her peak too early—and now saw no need to push further.