Tobirama had barely set foot back into the village when Hashirama practically dragged him across Konoha. His elder brother had barely let him breathe, much less process his return, before launching into an excited rant.

"You're going to love this, Tobirama!" Hashirama beamed, leading him toward the training fields. "Hana has improved so much while you were gone!"

Tobirama frowned slightly, keeping pace.

"She was already progressing under my guidance," he stated his tone even.

Hashirama waved him off. "Oh, sure, sure—but this is different!"

Tobirama arched an eyebrow. "Different how?"

Hashirama simply grinned.

"You'll see."

Tobirama sighed. This can't be good.

The moment they arrived at the edge of the clearing, Tobirama stopped sharp red eyes took in the scene before him—And for the first time in a long while, he was completely caught off guard.

Hana stood at the centre of the battlefield, her stance poised, three massive feline summons prowling at her sides, chakra radiating in controlled waves.

Opposing her?

Madara Uchiha, standing atop his towering, skeletal Susanoo, had a manic look on his face even from a distance.

Tobirama's jaw tightened.

His student, his responsibility—was currently in the middle of a full-scale battle with Madara Uchiha.

What.

Hashirama clapped a hand on Tobirama's shoulder.

"Cool, right?!"

Tobirama slowly turned his head.

"…Are you insane?"

Hashirama laughed. "She's doing great!"

Tobirama exhaled sharply, forcing himself to observe rather than react. Despite the absolute insanity of the situation, Hana was… holding her own. More than that—she was adapting.

Her chakra control, once unstable, was now refined, sharpened like a blade. Her summons, are now humongous, towering over Madara's susanoo.

And Madara? He wasn't going easy on her. Tobirama narrowed his eyes. Madara was testing her, truly testing her. And she was keeping up.

His irritation at Hashirama's recklessness aside—Tobirama felt a rare flicker of something he hadn't expected.

Pride.

Hana's breath was steady, her focus unwavering.

The battlefield trembled as her summons lunged toward Madara's Susanoo, their chakra-infused claws clashing against the ethereal armour.

Madara grinned, his Sharingan gleaming.

"Good," he mused. "You're finally taking this seriously."

Hana exhaled sharply. "I've always been serious."

Madara chuckled.

With a flick of his wrist, Susanoo's blade came crashing down.

Hana moved instantly. Her chakra surged outward, her summons responding to her will.

The three great felines leapt forward—one intercepting the attack, the others moving in for a counterstrike. The air hummed with energy.

Tobirama watched, his mind calculating. Her reaction speed—faster. Her chakra output—controlled. Her strategy—sound. This wasn't the same woman he had left three months ago.

And that realization was both shocking and gratifying.

Madara's smirk widened as he adjusted his stance.

"Let's see if you can handle this."

Hana tensed. She knew what was coming. The next attack would be decisive.

She steadied herself—And then—A third presence entered the battlefield.

The very air shifted. And in a blink, a familiar white-haired figure was standing between them.

Tobirama had seen enough. One moment, he was at the edge of the field. The next—he was there, standing between Hana and Madara. His sudden arrival sent a shockwave of chakra rippling through the air, a silent declaration of authority.

Hana barely had time to react before she felt a firm grip on her wrist.

"Tobirama—"

His crimson gaze bore into her, assessing, measuring.

"You're done for today."

Hana stiffened. "But—"

"No."

His voice left no room for argument.

Madara, still atop his Susanoo, let out a low chuckle.

"Well, well," he mused. "Look who finally decided to return."

Tobirama's jaw tightened.

"I leave for three months, and you decide to turn Hana into your punching bag?"

Madara smirked. "It wasn't my idea."

Tobirama turned his gaze to Hashirama.

The First Hokage simply whistled innocently.

"…I should have expected this," Tobirama muttered.

As the energy of the battle settled, Hana swallowed, unsure of what to expect. Tobirama finally released her wrist, his gaze cool but unreadable.

She opened her mouth—to explain, to defend herself—But he beat her to it.

"You've improved."

Hana froze. It wasn't just an observation. It was an acknowledgement.

Her throat tightened slightly. "I—"

Tobirama tilted his head.