Hey guys, here is the new chapter hope you will liked and read thru everything.
If we hit 200 PW I post a extra chapter
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Enjoy the chapter!
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Five years had passed like a sigh over the great oasis of the desert. Under the towering dome of glass, steel, and reinforced alloys that protected Sunagakure, the village was no longer a simple military fortress of clay and rock exposed to the elements; it had become a vanguard, semi-industrialized metropolis. The giant steam chimneys whispered day and night, expelling rhythmic columns of condensation into the desert sky, while complex systems of gears and pipes regulated subterranean pressure.
However, on the outskirts of the urban area, in a private training field surrounded by dunes stabilized by barriers of artificial vegetation, the echo of blunt strikes, swift footsteps, and the clashing of feints served as a reminder that, despite the comforts of the modern era, Suna remained, in its deepest soul, an untameable land of warriors.
"Don't let your guard down, Daiku!" shouted Sunae, lunging forward with impressive agility for her mere five years.
Little Sunae moved with a wild, feline grace inherited directly from her mother, Pakura. Her bright orange and green hair fluttered with the wind generated by her own speed, while her intense pink eyes shone with an indomitable competitive spark.
Daiku, her twin, was not left behind at all. With his characteristic bicolor hair—half slate gray and half orange—he planted his feet firmly in the loose sand, crossing and tensing his forearms to block the rapid sweep of kicks his sister dealt him in quick succession.
The taijutsu combat was remarkably even, a true spectacle of coordination that defied the logic of their age. Both children had been personally trained by Daigo since they had the strength to stand, and they already displayed a technique, posture, and physical control that would embarrass any senior academy student or even an average twelve-year-old genin from other nations.
Daiku, seeing a gap in his sister's guard, launched a direct, linear strike aimed at Sunae's chin. However, the little girl, reacting with superhuman instinct and taking advantage of the dense, burning chakra flowing naturally through her veins—a subtle remnant of the presence of the Seven-Tails sealed within her—accelerated her speed at the very last millisecond.
Ducking with flawless dexterity, she swept her brother's legs and, applying a slight push of chakra into the palm of her hand, sent Daiku crashing straight into the sand with a single impact.
Daiku fell onto his back, kicking up a small cloud of golden dust, but his face did not reflect the slightest hint of frustration or defeat. With a defiant grin and a smile full of childish pride, he pressed his hands against the ground and sprang backward to immediately stand back up, roughly wiping the sand from his right cheek.
"That's not fair, you used the insect's chakra," Daiku complained, though his eyes gleamed with the burning desire to fight again. "Again! You won't throw me down this time, I promise!"
"The chakra is mine, Daiku. A real ninja uses everything at their disposal to win," Sunae replied, crossing her arms and puffing out her chest with the same haughty pride that characterized her mother on the battlefield.
"So get ready, because I'm going to beat you again, even if you cry."
The twins got back into their stances, lowering their center of gravity and building tension in their legs to clash once more, when a calm, mature, and extremely serious voice interrupted the heated atmosphere from the shadow of a massive nearby limestone rock.
"That is enough. You must return to school right now."
From the shadow emerged Kimimaro, who at seven years old already wore the formal military attire of Sunagakure. His two characteristic circular eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his green eyes denoted the massive responsibility he carried on his young shoulders as the eldest of the group.
"Oh, please, nii-san! Just one more round," Sunae pleaded, clasping her hands together in a gesture of entreaty she rarely used.
"Theory classes at the academy are so boring. The teachers explain such basic things, and no one there is strong enough to help us actually improve."
"No," Kimimaro replied, stepping in front of them and crossing his arms with unyielding firmness.
"You have been out here too long. I have been hiding your absence from the instructors using basic shadow clones, but I won't be able to cover your tracks any longer if the director general decides to report this directly to Father."
Daiku and Sunae exchanged a sidelong glance, sharing a complicity that only blood twins could understand. An identical, highly mischievous grin played on the faces of both children. Without a word or a single sound, they lunged simultaneously at their older brother, attempting to flank him from both sides.
"If you beat us, we'll go back without complaining!" they yelled in unison.
Kimimaro didn't even blink at the coordinated offensive. With absolute calm and astonishing speed, the seven-year-old began to dodge the twins' strikes with minimal, highly precise feints. Sunae tried to strike him from the left with a high kick, and Daiku went for a low sweep to destabilize his stance, but Kimimaro immediately proved why he was considered an indisputable prodigy and the older brother of the house.
With an elegant twist of his hips, he dodged Sunae's kick, gently caught Daiku by the shoulder using the boy's own momentum, and, applying a light pulse of his chakra without hurting them, pushed both siblings back a few meters, depositing them extremely gently onto the sand dune.
"That's enough," Kimimaro repeated calmly, without his breathing pattern changing in the slightest. "It's time to go."
The twins pouted in unison, ready to completely ignore the warning and launch themselves back into the fight, when a massive, dense, and incredibly heavy presence made the air in the training field turn suffocating all at once.
Shunshin!
A swirl of crystal materialized with a dull thud right in the middle of the three children. As the dust and heat cleared, the imposing figure of Daigo stood revealed. His serious gaze, firm posture, and crossed arms made Daiku, Sunae, and Kimimaro immediately stand at attention out of pure survival instinct, aligning their heels and keeping their backs perfectly straight like recruits before their supreme commander.
"May I know what you are doing here?" Daigo asked in a slow voice that rumbled with unquestionable authority.
"I was informed at my office that the academy classrooms were unusually empty today. And you, Kimimaro... you were supposed to bring them back instead of participating in their games."
Daiku swallowed hard but kept his gaze locked on his father, inheriting his stubbornness.
"It's just that the academy is so boring, Dad. The teachers are teaching us chakra theory that you already taught us at home two years ago. We want to train for real and get strong to protect Suna!"
Kimimaro, for his part, simply lowered his gaze to the sand with an expression full of guilt and respect.
"I am very sorry, Father. It is entirely my responsibility for not being firm enough with them and allowing them to leave the classroom."
Daigo stared at little Kimimaro for a few seconds. The silence that fell over the training ground was tense, but finally, the Kazekage let out a long sigh, relaxing his shoulders and losing much of his military rigidity. In a tactical blur, he appeared beside the seven-year-old and placed a large, warm hand on his head, gently patting his hair.
"Don't be sad, Kimimaro. You did a good job keeping an eye on them so they wouldn't wander outside the safe limits of the village," Daigo said with a warm smile that disarmed the tension.
"I'm not mad at you at all. I know very well that these two hurricanes are extremely difficult to control when they set their minds to something."
Kimimaro's face lit up instantly, and he nodded eagerly, visibly relieved not to have disappointed his father. Seeing their father's soft, parental side, the twins Daiku and Sunae wasted no time; they broke ranks immediately and threw themselves into a hug around Daigo, making the formidable Kazekage completely lose his rehearsed posture of an implacable leader.
"Though..." Daigo added, looking at the twins with a raised eyebrow and a half-smile,
"you still have a long way to go in your taijutsu if you honestly thought you stood a chance against Kimimaro. He held you off and neutralized you without even activating his bloodline limit or breaking a sweat."
"That's not fair!" Sunae protested, gently tugging at her father's robe. "Kimimaro has more years of training! He only won by luck this time!"
"Yeah, next time we'll work better as a team and beat him!" Daiku seconded, crossing his arms with childish indignation.
Daigo let out a soft laugh, genuinely enjoying that peaceful family moment, until a highly important and alarming realization crossed his mind. His smile froze instantly, and a subtle drop of cold sweat slid down his neck. The three children, highly observant, noticed the drastic change in their father's expression and looked at him with deep curiosity and sudden dread.
"Dad? Is something wrong with the village?" Daiku asked, turning serious.
Daigo scratched the back of his neck nervously, looking at his three children with a mixture of pity, resignation, and solidarity.
"Well... let's just say the academy teacher didn't just look for me at the office to complain about your absence. He also went straight to the house to talk to Pakura to inform her about your little escape... and that Kimimaro helped you cover it up."
In an instant, what little color remained in the faces of Daiku, Sunae, and Kimimaro seemed to vanish, leaving them completely pale. Cold sweat began to visibly roll down their backs. As the young princes of Suna and the children of the Kazekage himself, the three knew very well that they could get away with almost any political, military, or academic trouble in the village.
They could bend the rules, but there was one single person in the entire shinobi continent against whom they had absolutely no defense or influence: Mom.
Pakura never let a single lack of discipline slide at home. And even Daigo, the man who controlled the desert and was feared by the great ninja nations, found himself in the exact same situation of total vulnerability before his wife's firm, protective nature.
The Kazekage looked at them in silent, complicit solidarity. Knowing that Pakura knew and was angry meant only one thing: today would be a catastrophic day for all the boys and the girl of the Kanzaki household.
And so it was.
The three children returned to the academy immediately to finish their remaining hours under the direct supervision of the director. When school hours finally ended, they decided to take the longest possible route back home, bypassing the commercial districts and industrial zones, delaying the inevitable as they dragged their feet along the paved metal streets of the village.
When they finally opened the main door of the private residence, the usual cheerful, bright, and warm atmosphere of the house was completely absent. The silence ruling the lobby was sepulchral and heavy. The only sign of activity in the home was the delicious, comforting aroma of cooked meat and spices coming directly from the kitchen.
The children walked in at a snail's pace, holding their breath. The moment the last of them crossed the threshold of the foyer, the door behind them closed shut with a sharp click, making them jump in terror at the sound.
Meanwhile, at the Kazekage's Tower, Daigo stared at his office wall clock with absolute mental exhaustion. Having finished signing the last industrial export reports of the day to avoid any delays, he stood up from his comfortable ebony desk to head home. However, as he approached the entrance of his property, his acute seismic sense and highly developed ninja intuition activated simultaneously, sending him a clear warning of danger.
Feeling a premonition of domestic disaster looming over him, Daigo let out a long sigh, prayed silently to whatever deity was listening, and opened the door. The moment he entered, the door closed firmly behind him, sealing his fate.
Upon reaching the spacious dining room, Daigo found everyone sitting at the table, waiting for him in an absolute silence that could almost be cut with a kunai. Daiku, Sunae, and Kimimaro were completely mute, stiff as stone statues, staring intently at their empty plates with a concentration worthy of a ninja exam. At the head of the table, presiding over the family gathering, Pakura watched them all with a highly pleasant, sweet, and peaceful smile... an expression that seemed infinitely more dangerous to Daigo than an entire S-rank army marching toward his borders.
"It's so good you're finally home, dear. We were waiting for you to have dinner as a family," Pakura said in a melodic, soft, and measured voice that chilled the blood of everyone present.
Daigo swallowed hard, glanced at his three children who were desperately begging for help with their eyes, and finally sat down in his respective chair at the head of the table, completely surrendering to the imminent domestic trial. The scolding began immediately. And there was no mercy or leniency for anyone in the room.
For one long, endless hour, Pakura unleashed a flawless, highly structured lecture on the importance of discipline, respect for institutions, the example they had to set for the village as heirs of the Sand, and Daigo's absolute duty as a father not to cover up or encourage the children's rebellious behavior. Even the mighty Kazekage had to bow his head, keep his gaze lowered, and nod obediently to every single one of his wife's reprimands, sharing the punishment of silence and no dessert alongside the three little ones.
In the middle of the night, silence and peace finally returned to the family's private residence. Daigo opened his eyes slowly, looking at the polished wooden ceiling of the master bedroom, which was illuminated by the dim, silvery light of the full moon filtering through the window. Beside him, Pakura slept peacefully, breathing with a tranquility so angelic and soft that it made the psychological terror she had unleashed just a few hours earlier in the dining room hard to believe. Daigo smiled with infinite tenderness, leaned slightly over the bed to give her a soft kiss on the forehead, and got up with utmost care, using his weight control to avoid making the slightest creak on the wooden floor.
Stepping out onto the wide backyard to get a glass of fresh water and enjoy the night breeze perfectly regulated by the great glass dome, Daigo leaned against the terrace railing. Almost automatically, he subtly expanded his sensory perception range through the ground, utilizing the vibrations of the earth. To his surprise, his seismic sense detected a small, rhythmic fluctuation of chakra in the center of the yard's private training field.
Curious and keeping his stealth at the highest level so as not to alert anyone, Daigo used a subtle Shunshin to materialize silently at the edge of the training area, blending into the shadows of the artificial palm trees. Looking toward the center of the loose sand area, his pink eyes widened in surprise when he discovered who it was.
There, sitting in the middle of the fine sand under the starlight filtering through the dome, was Gaara, nearly five years old. The little red-haired boy, wearing simple two-piece pajamas, was completely focused on building a detailed, beautiful castle with his own hands, molding the sand with infinite patience and delicacy that contrasted with the wild nature of the desert.
Seeing that solitary image, Daigo couldn't help but feel a torrent of nostalgic memories from the original anime flood his mind with force. In that other timeline before he changed things, Gaara at this tender age was already treated by everyone as a feared monster, an unstable weapon that had to be eliminated, and an extremely lonely child who cried in the absolute darkness of the desert, unable to comprehend why no one loved him.
Here, fortunately thanks to his actions, everything was radically different. Gaara had a happy childhood, the unconditional love of his parents Rasa and Karura, and older siblings who watched over and adored him. Yet, despite all that material and family well-being, Daigo could detect a deep, silent, and data-proven sadness in the boy's small shoulders as he worked on his sculpture.
Approaching with slow, rhythmic steps so as not to startle him or seem like a threat, Daigo walked across the sand until he sat down in a relaxed manner right next to him on the ground.
"What is a little ninja doing building fortresses at this hour of the night?" Daigo asked in an extremely gentle, brotherly tone.
Gaara gave a small jump of surprise, startled by the sudden and unexpected interruption in his solitude, but turning his head and recognizing the familiar, calm, and safe face of his uncle Daigo, his shoulders completely relaxed and he let out a sigh of relief.
"Uncle Daigo..." Gaara murmured shyly, lowering his gaze to the towers of his sandcastle. "I couldn't sleep well."
"Did you have a nightmare?" Daigo asked, looking at him with genuine attention, respect, and fatherly empathy.
Gaara shook his head slowly, pressing his small hands against the base of his construction to make it firm. "No, it's not that... it's just... I've been thinking a lot about what happened this week. My dad took Temari, Kankuro, and me to train in the outer desert. We practiced for hours to discover and mold our wind affinity for combat. Temari managed to move leaves and cut things right away, and Kankuro could make small, stable gusts of air... but I couldn't do absolutely anything with my chakra. I tried really hard, Uncle Daigo, I really tried until my head hurt... but the wind simply won't listen to me. I feel like... I'm not as strong as my siblings and that maybe I don't have the talent to be a real Sand ninja. That makes me really sad."
Daigo listened to his little nephew's frustrated words with undivided attention and patience. In his mind, the pieces of the genetic puzzle of Rasa's family fell into place with complete clarity. It was highly logical that Gaara couldn't mold the wind element with the ease of his siblings; in the original canon of his past life, Gaara's power was never truly tied to gusts of air, but to the massive manipulation of sand, the Magnet Release, and yet his affinity was wind.
With a spark of curiosity and inspiration lighting up his pink eyes, Daigo gave the little redhead a warm, friendly pat on the shoulder.
"Wait here a second, Gaara. Don't move from the sand."
In a swift blur of speed that didn't raise a single grain of dust, Daigo disappeared in a flawless Shunshin, slipping silently into his private study inside the residence to grab a special chakra-conducting paper from his oak desk, returning to the training ground in less than three seconds flat. He sat back down on the sand next to the startled Gaara and held out the small, rectangular white piece of paper.
"Do you know what this is?" Daigo asked in a teaching tone.
Gaara shook his head, looking at the mysterious piece of paper with a curiosity that replaced his sadness.
"It's a special chakra-conducting paper. It is used to reveal a ninja's exact elemental affinity so they know which direction to train in. If your primary affinity is fire, the paper will burn instantly; if it is wind, it will split cleanly in half; if it is lightning, it will wrinkle up completely; and if it is water, it will become damp to the touch. I want you to hold this paper firmly, concentrate some of your energy into your fingers, and send it directly into it. Let me see what happens."
Gaara nodded shyly, taking the paper between his small fingers with utmost care, as if it were a fragile treasure. He closed his eyes tightly, concentrating to the maximum to send a steady flow of his chakra into the object, just as his father had taught him to do during the week in the desert.
At first, for several seconds that felt like an eternity to the boy, absolutely nothing visible happened to the paper. The conducting paper remained completely intact and flat in the five-year-old's hand, causing Gaara to begin to lose all hope, thinking that he truly had no energy inside his body. However, just as he was about to lower his hands and apologize, an extremely unique, strange physical phenomenon occurred.
The paper did not split in half, nor did it burn with fire, nor did it show any sign of dampness in its fibers. In a flash of silent energy, the very structure of the paper began to rapidly crumble from the exact center of the sheet, disintegrating into an extremely fine, dense, and dry earth dust that scattered gently with the night breeze, completely vanishing from Gaara's hands as if it had never existed.
Gaara opened his eyes wide, startled by the sudden and destructive reaction of the material, but turning his head to look at Daigo, he realized that his uncle was completely frozen, staring at the empty space with an expression of absolute astonishment and revelation in his eyes.
Daigo knew that physical reaction better than anyone in the entire shinobi world. He himself had been the first person in Suna's recorded history to disintegrate a chakra paper in that exact manner during his own youth. That reaction did not represent a simple, low-level common affinity; it was the physical and tangible manifestation of an extremely strong, massive, pure, and uncontrollable affinity with the Earth Element (Doton), a genetic and spiritual trait identical to the one he possessed inside himself.
The Kazekage observed the little redhead with a mixture of surprise, respect, and an absolute fascination he hadn't felt in a very long time. His own biological children, Daiku and Sunae, had not inherited his characteristic Crystal element, manifesting instead Pakura's Scorch element (Shakuton) and basic earth control. But Gaara... Gaara had just revealed a massive earth elemental connection identical to his own.
"The destiny of this shinobi world is truly uncontrollable, wonderful, and full of surprises," Daigo thought to himself, a large smile of genuine pride and excitement slowly forming on his face as he looked at the little boy. His nephew was not destined to be a feared monster in this life, but the ultimate disciple and the heir to the power of crystal under the Kazekage's tutelage.
End of Chapter