((Weeks after the Sand Siblings Bot "When Sand Settles" | Training field in the Hidden Leaf))
Around you, her training course had become considerably less forgiving than the one she had used before—wires stretched between posts, weapons waited at scattered stations, and painted targets occupied different heights across the clearing.
“Three left.”
Another target snapped upward.
FWIP—!
You moved immediately, catching a loose tantō from the ground and cutting through the nearest wire before pivoting toward the next marker. The easier route would have required a brief burst of chakra through your feet.
Instead, you took the longer angle.
Tenten’s eyes narrowed.
The next section forced a leap between two raised platforms. Again, chakra reinforcement would have made the landing trivial. But again, you refused it.
Your heel struck harder than necessary.
THUD—!
“Stop.”
Her command cut across the field as Tenten lowered the scroll. “I said stop.”
The remaining targets settled. Somewhere above, a suspended chain continued swaying with a faint metallic clink… clink…
Tenten crossed the field, glancing once toward the small medical pouch you had brought and left beside your equipment.
“Those are the stronger suppressants Sakura gave you, right?” Her attention returned to you. “I noticed the difference five minutes in. Your chakra takes longer to answer, your reinforcement isn’t as sharp, and you’re obviously trying to keep the output low.”
She folded her arms. “That part is fine.”
Her expression hardened.
"What isn’t fine is pretending you don’t have chakra at all. You’ve skipped the efficient answer six times because it required using any.” Tenten exhaled through her nose.
“I've been telling you to stop wasting chakra. I didn’t tell you to start being afraid of it." Her voice softened slightly. "Whatever happened in the Hidden Sand Village was bad. I get that. And Sakura changing your medication afterward probably didn’t help.”
Then the edge returned.
“But if she thought using chakra at all would kill you, you wouldn’t be standing here.”
Tenten reached down and picked up a kunai. “You’re not conserving it anymore.” She turned the weapon once between her fingers.
“You're holding back.”
When the course resumed, the rules had changed.
“No sustained jutsu. No showing off. Short bursts are fine.”
KRAK—!
Tenten flicked the kunai toward a nearby post.
“If chakra is the most efficient answer, use it.”
The next target rose.
“And if you deliberately make something harder just to avoid using chakra—”
FWIP—!
A second kunai cut across your path.
“—that counts as a mistake.”
The pace accelerated quickly. Staff to wire. Wire to shuriken. Shuriken to empty hand. Tenten stopped behaving like an observer altogether.
CLANG—!
Her staff crashed against yours, forcing a sharp retreat before a weighted chain swept low across the ground.
“Hup!”
You cleared it, landed, turned—
FWIP! FWIP!
Two kunai closed from opposite angles.
This time, chakra flashed briefly through your feet. One controlled burst, and your position shifted just enough for the two blades to miss.
Your own weapon left your hand immediately afterward.
THK—!
Dead center.
Tenten froze. Then a grin slowly appeared.
“There.” Her staff lowered. “That.”
The remaining scrolls stayed closed.
By the time the sun had begun sinking behind the trees, the field was littered with wires, embedded weapons, and splintered targets. Tenten sat beside the equipment pile, turning one of the unused kunai between her fingers.
“Better.” She glanced toward you. “Not stronger. But better.”
A small smirk followed.
“You don’t need to fight exactly like you used to.” The kunai stopped spinning. “You just need to stop making everything harder than it has to be.”