4 years

I leaped to the side in order to dodge the kunai thrown at me while rolling to gain more distance from my father. Coming to a stop, I got ready to make another quick dodge while holding up a kunai as if I had a chance to hit this monster.

He blurred, and then I sensed him right behind me the next second. Responding quickly, I threw my kunai back while jumping forward. Of course, he easily batted my kunai out of the air with his blade, but I just needed him distracted for a second.

Mid-air before I hit the ground, I grabbed another kunai from my waist and threw it at him. This one had an explosive tag attached to it, and right as it reached my father, it exploded. As I came to a rolling stop, I grabbed some shuriken from my waist in preparation for what would come next.

A dozen shuriken came from the smoke cloud of the explosion, all coming at a fast speed. Well fast for a genin, at least. My instincts screamed at me to respond. Listening, I threw two shurikens, one in each hand, at the center of the 12 incoming projectiles. I hit both of my targets, sending two of the shuriken in the middle, off course.

Using this opening, I leaped through the storm of metal. I was beginning to grow tired. We had been training like this for 30 minutes now. I would continuously have to dodge when my father speed-blitzed me, and when I responded, he would send a wave of shuriken or kunai at me.

Basically, he was working on building up my instincts and my reaction speed. While also working on endurance. It was excellent training, but sadly my body felt like It was about to give up on me. As I landed on the ground, I sensed my father appear next to me with speed so fast it felt more like teleportation to my admittedly young senses.

Before I could respond, my father grabbed my arm and threw me high into the air. My arm immediately felt like it was on fire. It was dislocated, or something worse happened to it. This caught me off guard, but I quickly reoriented myself mid-air and landed in a rolling crouch.

Although one of my arms was useless, I pushed through the pain and held a kunai up, getting ready for anything. Which proved to be the correct choice when my father's fist appeared before my face with enough strength to either knock me out by giving me brain damage or shatter the front of my skull into a thousand pieces.

All my instincts flared to life, and time seemed to slow down. I remembered how I had gathered a lot of memory fragments from people who had been in war zones and those who had near-death experiences.

I knew the war was coming, and when I began training seriously with my father, I decided to prepare the best I could. I didn't have a lot of room in this small brain of mine, but I crammed it full of those memories. Just for these types of moments.

Where an instant decides the rest of one's life. I used all my strength in my 4-year-old body and wrenched my neck to the side, ignoring the searing pain that came with the motion while lunging forward with my kunai right at his thigh. After all, my dumb little body wasn't big enough to aim for his chest.

My father responded by pulling his sword out with his other arm in a movement so smooth. It took another instant for me to notice how my kunai had been cut in half. The handle of my kunai hit him in the thigh, and while I tried to jump away to gain some time to think, my father reached out with his free hand and patted me on the head.

My father stopped and said, "Now that's my son." He actually showed a full smile, which I admit totally shocked me. Not to say he never smiled, but my father always gave smaller restrained smiles.

Never ones that seemed to radiate pride like the sun. Honestly, I would think about this more, but I blacked out as my adrenaline wore off and realized I had nothing left in me.

(Haruto POV)

As I looked at my son's unconscious form, I couldn't help but feel a level of pride I had never felt before. I loved my son, and as he continued to grow, I knew he was meant for great things. This moment, after all, proved it.

That last sequence of attacks had been meant for a high-level genin who had already experienced battles and had slain their first enemies. If he hadn't dodged, he probably would have died. Of course, I would've stopped right before hitting him if he froze or made sure to miss the strike if he didn't dodge fast enough.

All these thoughts were drowned out by the fact that my four-year-old son did all this while exhausted from half an hour of training. That thought made me giddy, and I felt like I couldn't stop smiling even if I wanted to. This had been the final test to see if I could bring him with me to the front lines. Everyone, by now, knew that war was on the horizon.

At most, we had only a year left before full-scale battles started. Minor skirmishes on the border had already begun, and everyone was sending waves of spies into everyone else's villages.

I walked over to my son and picked up his unconscious form. He had passed out from exhaustion, and his arm was dislocated. He had also messed up his neck pretty bad from the last action of his. This, however, only proved he was ready.

A 4-year-old being able to push through the pain and continue on is nothing short of immersive. I immediately started body flickering to the Konoha hospital. As I made my way over, I pondered on how much my son had grown.

He had taken to his training like a prodigy, however… He had natural instincts that put his learning abilities to shame. Although being a prodigy and learning things fast was impressive. Being born with such keen instincts, as if you were born for the battlefield, was just as amazing or even better in my mind.

After all, what good is a prodigy if they die young from a slow reaction on a bad day? Survivors who can make it through battles are the ones who live long enough to become strong. My son had both the talent and instincts which would allow him to become great if he reached adulthood.

He would reach adulthood, and I'd make sure of it. Even though we were going to the front lines, I wouldn't allow my son to be sent anywhere without me by his side. This conflict will refine his already impressive instincts and force him to push his talent to its max.

As I reached the hospital. I couldn't help but think that the future was bright. This war was just a stepping stone. A dangerous stepping stone, but still something to help my son and I continue on our journeys to greatness. I couldn't wait to push my limits and see how far my son could go.