195

Hisato stood in the old training grounds, his breaths steady but deep as he moved through a series of slow, deliberate motions. It had been over a decade since he had trained like this, and his body protested with each movement. His peg leg thumped softly against the earth, a constant reminder of the past. But something had changed within him. After all these years, he had found a spark again—one that he hadn't felt since his sons were alive.

And the catalyst for this change? That damn kid, Haruto.

Haruto's use of his genjutsu had been different, unique even. It wasn't just the boy's raw ability that impressed Hisato—it was the way Haruto had approached the genjutsu with a mind of his own. The kid had taken Hisato's teachings and twisted them slightly, finding new ways to use the technique. It had stirred something in Hisato. He could feel it every time Haruto used the genjutsu. There was potential, yes, but there was something more. Haruto was learning to multitask in a way that Hisato had never managed. It was that realization that sent Hisato back into training.

For the first time in years, Hisato found himself experimenting with his own technique. He had spent decades refining his version of False Surroundings, and yet, Haruto's approach had made him question his own limits. Over the past week and a half, while Haruto had buried himself in his experiments with seals and poisons, Hisato had gone back to the basics—testing and pushing himself in ways he hadn't thought possible at his age.

The old man had made a breakthrough. He could now maintain his genjutsu for a full three seconds after capturing a target, without having to fully concentrate on it. It didn't sound like much, but for a genjutsu of his complexity, it was a monumental shift. In those three seconds, he could move, think, or even cast another jutsu without breaking the illusion. He had never believed it possible before—his sons hadn't been able to do it, and neither had he.

But Haruto had opened a door.

As he stood, sweat trickling down his scarred face, Hisato's mind drifted to darker thoughts. Thoughts he had tried to bury for years. His sons. He had tried to move on from their deaths, but the reality was, it had broken him. His eldest son had died on a mission—one he knew about, one that he had accepted. It was the nature of their work. But his second son… that death had been different. The mission had been classified, and every time Hisato asked for details, he was stonewalled.

His second son's death had always lingered in the back of his mind. Something didn't add up. And Hisato had never been able to shake the feeling that there was more to it. For years, he had told himself that it didn't matter—that he couldn't handle the truth. But now, after seeing the fire in Haruto, after finally feeling like he had an inheritor who would carry on his legacy, Hisato realized he had to know. He had to find out what happened to his son before he died.

Hisato had spent the last week preparing, improving his genjutsu, to confront an old teammate of his son's—someone who had been on the classified mission with him. Hisato knew where he lived. He had been keeping tabs on him for years but never had the nerve to confront him.

But things were different now.