Chapter 40: Training.

Author Note: Nothing of importance, just enjoy the chapter, and if you have any questions, make sure to comment!

And like always, remember if you want to read up to 13-15 chapters ahead go to https://www.patreón.com/cornbringer

I'm currently updating the novel 2-8 chapters a day in patreeeeon. On chapter 51 so far, though by the end of today it will be chapter 53-55.

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Enjoy you sexy bastards.

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[Arata Takeshi - POV.]

Today was my day off—well, my team's day off, per Mr. Yamato's orders. He had said, "A shinobi has to find the balance between work and relaxation." However, despite the rare opportunity to do nothing, I decided to head to the training grounds to practice for a few hours by myself.

Normally, I would've asked Itachi or Shisui to come with me, but they had other plans. Itachi had planned to spend the day with his younger siblings, Mito and Sasuke, and Shisui had to take his father to the hospital for some treatment for a recurring infection in his leg, which he had lost during the war.

So, I was training alone today.

As I arrived at the training grounds, I felt a familiar presence in my mind come forth—Teresa, the voice and guide who had been helping me for the last few years of my life. She would take form to help me train.

"It's been a while since we trained alone. Let's focus on your Claymore techniques today," Teresa suggested, her voice calm and composed. "You still need to perfect your movements."

This was something I really liked about Teresa, and it was one of the reasons I didn't mind that her consciousness or soul lived inside me. She wasn't one to intrude. More often than not, she would wait for me to be completely alone or for me to call her before making her presence known, allowing my contact and training with her to be on my terms.

"Well, the chores of a genin—I mean, missions—have gotten in the way of my training schedule," I replied, scratching the back of my head.

"I have noticed," Teresa replied, a faint smile on her face. "From painting houses to babysitting, I have to say, I'm honestly intrigued about how these so-called shinobi go from that to becoming professional killers. By now, the organization back in my world would've put you in multiple life-and-death situations to test your worth. Then again, I can't say that method was as successful as they wished, seeing they rarely produced powerful warriors, and the ones they did were hardly thanks to their training and methods."

"As much as I hate cleaning houses and babysitting, I understand the reason behind these missions," I replied with a soft chuckle. "Those missions serve as a bridge of sorts between the shinobi of the village and the civilians, reminding both parties that we are human and that we care for them, that we are part of them."

"You, human? Hardly. Now, don't confuse my question for lack of understanding. I understand very well what these missions you do are supposed to accomplish," Teresa replied, crossing her arms. "Only a fool wouldn't see the obvious approach your leaders are trying to take with them. What intrigues me is not that, but how it goes from that to killing, seeing most C-rank missions involve killing bandit groups, thieves, sexual predators, and the like."

That was a good question.

Now that I think about it, Teresa is right—there's no in-between or middle ground in the mission categories.

You jump from doing what most would consider nothing but chores to killing without an adaptation process.

C-rank missions were low-risk missions because they had little to no chance of combat against other ninja, which is where the real risk usually is. But don't be mistaken, not even for a second, in thinking there isn't blood in them.

These missions were almost always about dealing with civilian-grade criminals, and the parameters were more often than not, complete elimination of the threat.

"That's a good question, but to be fair, I don't think the answer to this question is one worth investing time in," I replied, giving Teresa a shrug. "Perhaps a few years back, before we met, I would've cared to know why it works the way it does. But the thing is... I already killed someone—Mito's kidnapper—and to be completely honest, I felt nothing but satisfaction."

Teresa chuckled at my response, the corners of her lips pulling into a smirk. "Is that so?" she mused, her eyes gazing into mine for a moment before continuing. "You really are a peculiar one, Takeshi. Few find such comfort in the act of killing, especially so young. But I'm glad you think this way. There's no point in feeling remorse for what had to be done."

I shrugged again, offering her a faint smile. "Peculiar or not, I like the way I am."

Teresa chuckled once more. "Very well, enough talk. Let's train. We've wasted enough time as it is. We can catch up after your training for the day is complete."

Nodding, I drew my claymore and assumed the starting stance. By now, the weapon felt natural in my hands, an extension of my body. "Ready when you are."

"Remember, fluidity is key," Teresa began, walking around me as she spoke. "Your movements should be like water, adaptable and relentless."

Wasting no time, I began my practice, swinging the claymore with precision and control, practicing one of the latest Claymore techniques she had taught me—the Windcutter. Each movement was deliberate, with the intent to reach a higher level of speed with my blade.

"Good," she praised, leaning against a tree. "Now, try combining it with the Phantom Mirage, multiple times without stopping."

Taking a deep breath, I focused my chakra, allowing it to flow through me. With a burst of speed, I moved, creating afterimages as I swung my claymore using the Windcutter after every step. The ground beneath me blurred as I shifted positions, striking at invisible opponents.

"Not bad, but you need to be faster," Teresa advised. "Your enemies won't wait for you to finish your technique or to become stronger. Remember, if you aren't the one to dictate the flow of the fight, someone else will."

Nodding, I pushed myself harder, increasing my speed and intensity to my absolute limit. Soon enough, sweat dripped down my face as I began to exert myself, but I didn't let this deter me. Each swing of the claymore was accompanied with a single purpose: becoming stronger than I was today.

"That's it," Teresa encouraged. "Don't waste any movements. Make every breath and movement count."

Taking her advice to heart, I continued to practice, losing myself in the rhythm of the training, as I continued cutting down invisible enemies. The world around me faded, leaving only the sensation of the claymore in my hands and Teresa's voice in my mind.

"Your form is improving at an acceptable rate," Teresa remarked as I paused to catch my breath. "But remember, strength alone won't be enough. You must also anticipate your opponent's moves, to the point it becomes second nature to you."

Nodding, I resumed my practice, focusing on my surroundings as I imagined an enemy coming at me from different angles, their movements swift and unpredictable. My goal was to read their intentions, their chakra, to be one step ahead.

"Use your sensing," Teresa reminded me. "It's one of your greatest assets, and quite possibly the strongest asset you inherited from me."

Kind of hard to read the chakra of something that doesn't exist, but I will try for the sake of trying.

Closing my eyes, I extended my senses, feeling the ebb and flow of chakra around me. I could almost visualize my imaginary opponent's movements, their intent clear in the energy they emitted. With this heightened awareness, I dodged and countered, my claymore slicing through the air with deadly precision.

However, before I could really start pushing myself, I felt a familiar chakra signature approaching my location. I stopped mid-swing, holding my claymore steady as I sensed the presence getting closer. It was Anko. She was coming fast, her energy radiating determination and frustration.

Well… it seems my day off won't be as boring and lonely as I originally imagined it would be.