Repetition is the key to mastery.

Kichiro brought the axe-head down with perfect form, cleaving the wood block in half. With one robotic motion, he brushed the wood off the chopping block and set another in its place. After almost 30 years of cutting firewood he could do it without thinking, which was good, because there were a lot of other things on his mind that day.

"It's a little late in the game to be asking this of me, don't you think? If you were still a child, maybe, even 12 or 13..."

Thwack!

Another piece for the pile, another on the block.

"Things have changed, Dad. Seeing what they did to those traders... I can't just sit by and watch anymore."

They were in the garden. It wasn't anything special, a row of fruit trees and some vegetable patches, but it was Chikaku's favorite place to be with her father around the house. They had spent countless hours there together, especially after Mom died. Today, she had picked a shady spot beneath an apple tree for her blanket to go. She laid up against the trunk, nibbling periodically on a piece of jerky.

"Besides, aren't you always going on about how I inherited mom's strength?" She pointed out. "I already know how to summon the chains- I'm not helpless."

"Granted." Kichiro conceded. He wasn't sure where exactly Chikaku and her mother had gotten their unnatural body strength from, but it made the most sense for it to have come from those Uzumaki genes somehow. It was the only reasonable explanation.

Thwack!

"But natural power is not the same thing as skill." He insisted. "Skill comes from practice, and training. Shinobi and Samurai train nearly from birth. I was five when I first started my regimen."

"So train me." She shrugged. "Better late than never, right?" Kichiro sighed. He set the axe down and met his daughters gaze. He didn't like what he saw in her eyes, that stubbornness. Her mother often had the same look. Chikaku had somehow adopted his dark brown hair instead of the customary Uzumaki red, but aside from that the two women were a spitting image of each other.

"Better late than never won't save you from the blade of a elite samurai, or a Jounin's fireball." He paused. Maybe a different approach was necessary. "Besides, violence has never solved anything. I train you to throw a punch, okay now what? You're going to go take on the entire Empire by yourself?"

"It's better than sitting around here."

"You haven't been sitting around here." Kichiro said. "The work you've done... you've helped so many people, Chikaku. You've done more than any sword or jutsu could do for our people."

Chikaku scowled. "Tell that to those traders!" She exclaimed, standing up. "What's the point of building a village when someone's just going to come later and tear it down? I could build a hundred houses. One day the War will come for them too." She looked down. "That innkeeper was so scared... I could see her shaking, holding her baby. Waiting for a savior. Maybe if she had been stronger, she could have saved herself. Someone has to hold these savages to justice, Dad!"

"You aren't talking about justice, you're talking about vengeance."

"I'm talking about duty." She countered. "If we don't protect our own, who will? Otogakure doesn't care. They're basically just as bad! The Hokage would sacrifice a thousand trading posts to win a single battle."

"That isn't true. The Village doesn't have enough shinobi to guard every settlement at once, but that doesn't mean they don't care. Fighting invaders is what the Sound Shinobi are for, leave it to them."

"Like you did?"

Kichiro fought back his anger at the sudden attack. It was a low blow. "I left the Shinobi world behind because I loved your Mother. She made me see that a life of peace was worth something. If you had a lick of wisdom you would see the same. Go start a family, while you still can. Learn to fish, and sow. These revolutionary ideas in your head are doomed to disappoint you.

"Maybe." She looked up, and Kichiro could see that there were tears in her eyes. "But I would rather try and fail then wait for someone else to solve my problems. Talk all you want about families and peace. Those without swords can still die to them."

"Chikaku..." He took a step toward her.

She wiped away her tears with a sleeve, sniffling. "If you don't want to train me, that's fine. I'll find someone else to do it, or I'll just use what I already know. But either way, I'm going. There's rumors that the Empire is marching on us with a whole army. I'll fight them with my teeth and fists before I let them walk into another village and burn it to the ground." She was going to keep going, but suddenly she found herself in her father's embrace. He held her tightly, so tight she almost couldn't breathe. It was a strange sensation- Kichiro wasn't known for his sentimentality.

"I believe you, and that's what scares me." He said, softly. They held each other in silence for what felt like a eternity, then he stepped back and placed his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her eyes. "You are my only child, Chikaku. My only connection to your Mother. If I lost you... I would have nothing left." She looked away. Almost immediately, Chikaku felt all the anger and bitterness drain out of her. It was replaced with shame.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

He sighed and stepped back again, letting her go. He stared at her for several heartbeats, then turned away. "If I can't stop you, then I have no choice but to help you."

Chikaku blinked. "You mean...?"

He put his back to her. "We will start tomorrow, at sunrise. Go to bed early." Without another word, he trudged back toward the house. For the first time, Chikaku could see the age in his step, the weariness. He looked defeated. The guilt gnawed at her as she realized the burden she was putting on her old Dad. Maybe she wasn't being fair with her demands.

As quickly as her resolve dipped, though, it returned as fast. Maybe it wasn't fair, but did anyone ask the Innkeeper's wife what was fair before they burnt down her home and slaughtered her family? Life wasn't fair.

Chikaku's hands balled into fists. She was strong, and smart. With her father's training, she would make the world fair, or die trying. She had no delusions of being invincible- death was always a possibility. But Chikaku reasoned that fighting was worth the risk. There had to be others who felt the way she did, and if her actions were the spark that ignited the common People of Hi no Kuni into action, her death would have a purpose.

Chikaku wiped the tears from her eyes one more time and headed back to the house. A storm was coming. When it arrived, she would be ready.