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Hidden Leaf, Hidden Talents 37
🕑 Added 2025-07-06 04:57:41 +0000 UTCThe moon hung outside my window like a drunk trying to find his keys, casting pale silver light across the kitchen table where I'd spread ou
The moon hung outside my window like a drunk trying to find his keys, casting pale silver light across the kitchen table where I'd spread out the Kage Bunshin scroll. A single candle flickered beside me, adding just enough warm glow to read the cramped handwriting without squinting myself blind.
Kushina had passed out about an hour ago, her head pillowed on her arms right next to her fuinjutsu materials. My jacket was draped over her shoulders like a blanket, and every few minutes she'd make these tiny sleep sounds that were way too adorable for someone who could probably punch through solid rock when she was awake.
I turned back to the scroll, scanning the technical details. The first thing that jumped out at me was how different this was from regular clone jutsu. Normal clones were just illusions—smoke and mirrors designed to confuse your opponent for a few seconds. But this was different. According to the scroll, shadow clones were actual bodies made of chakra, somehow transformed into something that could mimic flesh and matter.
‘Chakra constructs,’ I read, raising an eyebrow. Shape transformation, also known as Keitai Henka, was apparently the key to the whole thing.
I'd heard the term before, but seeing it written out like this made it sound way more complicated than just "make your chakra look like stuff." The scroll went on to explain that it was an advanced form of chakra control, something about controlling the form, movement, and potency of your chakra to determine the size, range, and purpose of a technique.
I kept reading, trying to wrap my head around the mechanics. Apparently, the chakra somehow "hardened" into a stable form that could mimic the user's physical structure down to cellular details. The clones could bleed, sweat, and physically interact with the environment as if they were actual living bodies.
"Cellular details," I whispered, staring at the scroll. "It's not just making a copy—it's making a perfect biological replica using nothing but chakra."
That was... actually terrifying when you thought about it. The level of control required to replicate every cell, every organ, every tiny detail that made a human body function? No wonder this was classified as a forbidden jutsu.
And no wonder it required massive chakra reserves.
I glanced at Kushina again, remembering our conversation about her "absurdly large chakra reserves." Yeah, she'd probably love this jutsu. Probably create an army of herself just to get her chores done faster.
The thought of multiple Kushinas running around made me smile. The village probably couldn't handle one of her, let alone ten.
I turned back to the scroll, looking over the hand seal sequence. Just one seal—a simple cross with both hands. Hell, it was easier than half the Academy jutsu I'd learned.
The scroll had basic step-by-step instructions that were pretty straightforward: form the seal, split your chakra evenly, push it into the technique framework. Simple enough that you could probably brute-force it without really understanding what was going on.
'If Naruto can eventually pull this off, he's basically just running the Second Hokage's program,' I thought. The guy had already figured out all the impossible stuff—how to make chakra turn into actual living tissue. All you had to do was dump enough chakra into it and not screw up the trigger.
But being me, I couldn't help trying to reverse-engineer what was actually happening. The scroll only gave basic instructions - form the seal, split your chakra, push it into the technique framework. But there had to be underlying principles at work. Shape transformation theory, cellular replication matrices, energy-to-matter conversion ratios.
Naruto could eventually brute-force his way through the basic instructions with raw chakra reserves. But if I could figure out the technical framework behind it? That would let me modify the technique, optimize it, maybe even create my own variations.
Like knowing how to use a phone versus actually knowing how to build one. Except I was trying to figure out the code just by watching the thing work.
But whatever. That was a problem for later. Right now I had other stuff to deal with.
I set the scroll down carefully, making sure not to disturb any of Kushina's fuinjutsu materials. Her brushes were arranged in perfect order, and there were neat little piles of paper covered in her attempts at the storage seal modifications.
Standing up slowly, I moved to the center of the room where I'd have space to work. The hand seal was simple enough—just crossing my fingers in front of me.
I took a breath and pushed chakra into the jutsu, trusting the Second Hokage's framework to handle all the impossibly complex stuff. It was like running a program someone else had written—I didn't need to understand how chakra transformed into living matter, I just needed to provide the chakra and let the jutsu do its thing.
The chakra flowed through the technique, shaped itself into something recognizable through whatever brilliant mechanisms Tobirama had built into it, and suddenly there were two of me standing in my kitchen.
"Well, shit," I said.
"Yeah," my clone said, looking down at his hands. "That actually worked."
We stared at each other for a moment. It was like looking in a mirror, except the reflection was scratching its head independently.
"So," I said. "You're me."
"Yep. And you're... also me." He paused. "This is weird."
"Super weird. Do you remember everything I remember?"
"Up until you made me, yeah. After that..." He shrugged. "I'm thinking my own thoughts."
"Huh." I walked around him, checking him out from different angles. "You look exactly the same. Even got the stupid cowlick in the back."
"Hey, we have great hair."
"We really do."
The clone glanced toward the table where Kushina was still sleeping. "Think we should wake her up? Show her the jutsu worked?"
"Nah, let her sleep. Besides, two of me might be more than she can handle right now."
"Fair point. She'd probably make some crack about there being twice as much ego in the room."
I snorted. "She absolutely would."
My clone wandered over to the window, peering out at the moonlit street like he was getting used to having his own perspective on things.
"So," my clone said, "what now?"
"Now we experiment."
I had him sit down at the table while I grabbed a spare kunai from my gear pouch. The clone watched me with interest that felt both familiar and strange.
"You're not seriously going to stab me, are you?"
"Just a little," I said reassuringly. "For science."
"I don't like this plan."
"Neither do I, but we need to test the limits."
I made a small cut on the clone's arm—just deep enough to draw blood. He winced and cursed under his breath.
"Okay, that's... unsettling."
The cut bled real blood. It looked real, felt real, and when the clone touched it, he came away with red fingers.
"The scroll wasn't kidding about the cellular detail thing," he said, examining the blood. "This is actual hemoglobin."
I was about to test something else when Kushina shifted in her chair, making a sleepy sound. My clone suddenly went poof and turned into a scroll that clattered onto the table.
I stared at the scroll. "What the hell?"
She lifted her head, blinking sleepily. "Shinji? What time is it? Did something fall?"
"Late," I said, still staring at the scroll. "And yeah, just... knocked something over."
"Mmm." She rubbed her eyes, my jacket slipping off one shoulder. "Did you say something? I thought I heard voices."
"Just talking to myself," I said, which was technically true. "You know how I get with this stuff."
"You're so weird," she mumbled, but she was half-smiling. "Figure out the clone thing yet?"
I glanced at the scroll, which had somehow managed to look smug despite being an inanimate object. "Yeah, actually. Got it working."
"Really? That's amazing!" She stretched, then seemed to realize how late it was. "I should probably head home, but..." She yawned widely. "Actually, you know what? I'm exhausted, and it's the middle of the night. Mind if I crash here? I can take the couch."
"You can have the bed," I said. "I'll take the couch."
"Are you sure? I don't want to impose."
"It's fine. Besides, you promised to help with the seal work, remember?"
"Mmm, right. The explosive clone research." She stood up, swaying slightly from tiredness. "That's gonna be fun."
I got her settled in the bedroom, and when I returned to the kitchen, my clone had transformed back and was sitting at the table like nothing had happened.
"Okay," I said. "What was that about?"
He shrugged. "Felt like it."
"Felt like it," I repeated. "You just randomly decided to become a scroll."
"Hey, you made me. Blame your own weird brain."
I sat down across from him, suddenly aware of how surreal this whole situation was. Having a conversation with myself about my own motivations was definitely going on the list of 'Things I Never Expected To Do.'
"Whatever." I leaned back in my chair. "Back to business. How much damage can you take before you dispel?"
"Only one way to find out."
What followed was probably the weirdest twenty minutes of my life. We tested the clone's durability with increasingly creative methods—punches, cuts, blunt force trauma from falling off chairs.
The clone could take a surprising amount of punishment, but there were definite limits. A solid punch to the gut made him wheeze but didn't dispel him. A kunai thrust to the shoulder made him curse colorfully but kept him standing.
It was when I accidentally put a little too much force behind a punch to his gut that finally did him in. He flew back a couple feet, still airborne, when—poof. Smoke.
The memories hit me like a freight train.
Everything the clone had experienced flooded back in vivid detail. The memory of pain from the cuts I'd given him. The weird disorientation of being a copy. The way Kushina's fuinjutsu notes had looked from his perspective.
But more importantly—and more alarmingly—I could feel exactly how much chakra I'd lost the moment I created him.
Half. Half of my total reserves, gone the moment the clone formed.
"Well," I said to my empty kitchen, "that's a problem."
The Kage Bunshin was incredibly powerful, but it was also incredibly wasteful. In a real fight, you'd burn through your chakra reserves just making the clones, never mind what happened when they got taken out.
I picked up the scroll again, scanning for any mention of chakra conservation. Maybe there was a way to create clones with smaller chakra investments—ten percent instead of fifty.
But this scroll only contained the basic user instructions—how to trigger the Second Hokage's jutsu, not the underlying framework he'd built. It was like having a user manual for a computer without access to the source code.
The real research notes are probably locked away somewhere I'll never get access to,' I thought. No way Hiruzen's handing over classified jutsu development materials to a genin, even if I did get this as a mission reward.
I'd have to experiment on my own, try to reverse-engineer what the Second Hokage had built.
I spent the next few hours doing exactly that—poking at the jutsu's framework, trying to understand how Tobirama had structured the chakra transformation process. It was like trying to debug someone else's code without comments or documentation. I'd make tiny modifications to how I channeled chakra into the jutsu, looking for variables I could adjust, then watch as my attempts either failed completely or produced horrifying malformed clones that dispelled immediately.
Most of my notes were just frustrated scribbles about how the jutsu seemed to resist any modifications. The candle burned lower as I worked, casting shifting shadows across pages of increasingly illegible theories about chakra compression ratios and structural integrity thresholds.
By the time exhaustion finally caught up with me, the eastern horizon was starting to lighten.
I must have dozed off at the table, because the next thing I knew, I was jerking awake to the sound of movement from my bedroom. My hand was already reaching for a kunai before my brain caught up—old habits from sleeping in hostile territory.
Just Kushina getting up.
I quickly gathered the scattered scrolls and notes from the table, shoving them onto a nearby bookshelf between some cooking manuals and sake guides.
A few minutes later, she appeared in the kitchen doorway, hair sticking up at odd angles and eyes still heavy with sleep.
"Morning," she mumbled, rubbing her face. "You look terrible."
"Thanks. Coffee?"
"Please."
I moved to the stove, going through the familiar motions of grinding beans and heating water. The routine was oddly comforting after a night of experimental jutsu work.
"Sleep okay?" I asked, measuring out the grounds.
"Better than I have in weeks. Your bed's way more comfortable than mine." She stretched, yawning. "What time is it?"
"Early. Sun's barely up." I poured hot water over the grounds, watching them bloom. "And yeah, I may have splurged a bit on the mattress. Life's too short for sleeping on what feels like a wooden board with delusions of comfort."
She snorted. "Is that why half the Academy thinks you're secretly rich? Because you actually invest in things like decent bedding?"
"Hey, I like being comfortable. Call me crazy, but I believe sleep should involve actual rest, not endurance training." I grinned. "You don't have to be anywhere, do you?"
"Not until this afternoon. Grandma Mito's got me scheduled for more seal practice, but that's not till later." She slumped into a chair at the table. "What about you? When do you leave for your mission?"
"Couple hours." I handed her a steaming cup. "Plenty of time."
She wrapped her hands around the mug, inhaling the steam. "Thanks."
I leaned against the counter, sipping my own coffee. "So what's been happening around the village? I've been on mission for over a week, feels like I'm out of the loop."
"Not much, honestly. Everyone's a bit on edge about the war, but it's not like Suna's knocking on our gates."
"Yeah, that makes sense. Any actual changes, or just people being nervous?"
"Mostly just nervous. More patrols, I think, but nothing dramatic." She took a careful sip. "Oh, we got a new neighbor though. Some girl named Fuwa moved into the Senju compound a few houses down from Grandma Mito's place."
I raised an eyebrow. "Senju or Uzumaki?"
Kushina scrunched up her face. "That's the weird part. I have no idea if she's actually Senju, but she's definitely not Uzumaki. Trust me, I'd know."
"Huh. Random civilian getting housing in the Senju compound seems unlikely."
"Right? That's what I thought too." She shrugged. "Maybe she's some distant cousin or something. The Senju family tree's pretty sprawling."
"Yeah, I've noticed that about them," I said, taking another sip. "Unlike other clans, they seem pretty relaxed about intermarriage. Uchiha keep it in the family, but Senju marry whoever they want."
"True. Grandma Mito always says the clan's strength comes from diversity, not purity." Kushina tilted her head thoughtfully. "Why, you think that's a problem?"
"Not a problem, just… a bit outside the box, I guess." I leaned back against the counter. "Spreading the bloodline around means more people with Senju traits, but it also means those traits get diluted over generations. Eventually you might have hundreds of distant cousins with maybe a tiny bit of Senju chakra, but no real connection to the clan."
"Huh." She frowned slightly. "You think they could actually die out that way? By spreading too thin?"
"Maybe. It's like..." I gestured vaguely with my coffee cup. "If you pour a bucket of water into a lake, the water's still there, but good luck finding it."
"That's kind of depressing," she said. "Though I guess it depends on whether you care more about the name or the legacy."
"Fair point. Maybe having your influence spread everywhere is better than keeping it concentrated in one small group."
"Maybe," she said, stretching and looking more awake, "So, ready for our cooking lesson? I've been thinking about it all week."
I set down my coffee cup. "Definitely. How about dashimaki tamago? It's basically a rolled omelet, but fancier than regular scrambled eggs."
"Sounds complicated."
"Nah, just requires a bit of technique. Good for building confidence without too much risk of setting things on fire." I moved toward the pantry. "Plus, if you screw it up, we can still eat the evidence."
"Very reassuring," she said, but she was already rolling up her sleeves. "Oh, before I forget, I finished working on your glove."
"Really? What did you change?"
"Try it. See those smaller marks around the main seal? Each one's a separate compartment now."
I looked down at my glove, noticing for the first time that there were indeed several smaller seal marks arranged around the central design.
"Just focus a bit of chakra on whichever mark corresponds to what you want," she continued. "Top left is where I put your spare kunai."
I pressed my thumb lightly against the indicated mark and channeled a small pulse of chakra. Only the kunai appeared in my palm.
"Holy shit, that actually works."
"Of course it works. I know what I'm doing. Each compartment's got limited space though, maybe enough for a few kunai or some shuriken, but you're not fitting a full weapon rack in there."
"This is incredibly useful." I tested another mark, retrieving a single shuriken. "How many compartments are there?"
"Six total. Should be enough for basic gear organization." She picked up one of the eggs, examining it like she was planning its demise. "Took forever to get the seal matrix right, but the theory was sound."
"You're a genius."
"I know." She cracked the egg with entirely too much force, sending shell fragments flying. "Oops."
"Okay, lesson one," I said, moving to stand beside her. "Eggs are not your enemies. You're not trying to execute them."
"They feel like enemies. They always break weird when I do it."
"Here, like this." I demonstrated with another egg, tapping it gently on the counter edge. "Just enough force to crack the shell, then use your thumbs to open it cleanly."
She tried again, more carefully this time. Better, though she still managed to get a piece of shell in the bowl.
"Close enough. We'll fish that out later." I started whisking the eggs with dashi and seasonings. "So this compartment thing..."
"I tried to think about what you'd actually need to carry around. Kunai, shuriken, some coins, emergency stuff." She was watching me whisk like she was studying for a test. "Left space so you can organize it however you want."
"Good. I'm sick of having to dump everything out just to find one thing."
"Yeah, that was the main improvement. You get a little more storage overall, but the real thing is being able to grab what you need without messing up everything else." She picked another bit of eggshell out of the bowl. "Way better for actual missions."
"This is gonna be so useful." I heated the pan, adding a thin layer of oil. "Okay, here's where it gets tricky. You want the pan hot but not smoking. Too hot and the eggs cook too fast to roll properly."
"How do you know when it's ready?"
"Test drop." I flicked a tiny bit of egg mixture into the pan. It sizzled gently without spattering. "Perfect. Now watch this part carefully."
I poured in just enough egg mixture to cover the bottom of the pan in a thin layer. "The key is working in thin layers. Let each one set just enough to hold together, then roll it toward you."
"That looks impossible."
"It's not, just takes practice." I used chopsticks to gently roll the cooked egg into a loose cylinder, pushing it to the far end of the pan. "See? Now you add more mixture, lift the cooked part so it flows underneath, and repeat."
"Damn, you're good at that," she said, watching me work. "Makes it look way easier than it actually is."
"Just practice. Same as your seal work, once you get the muscle memory down, it becomes automatic." I added another layer, repeating the process. "The goal is building up layers until you get a nice thick roll."
She leaned closer to watch. "It's like... folding the egg onto itself?"
"Exactly. Each layer adds to the roll." I finished the third layer, the omelet now a proper golden cylinder. "Want to try the next one?"
"You sure? I'll probably mess it up."
"It's just eggs. We've got plenty." I handed her the chopsticks. "Pour in another layer, thinner than you think you need."
She did, tongue poking out slightly in concentration. The layer was a bit thick, but not terrible.
"Now wait for it to set. See how the edges are firming up but the center's still wet? That's when you roll."
Her first attempt at rolling was... a little aggressive. The egg folded over itself in a way that defied geometry.
"Well," I said, "that's... interesting."
"It looks like I killed it."
"It's not that bad. Kind of abstract." I grinned. "Besides, ugly food can still taste good. Here, try once more. Gentler this time."
The second attempt went better. Not perfect, but recognizable as an actual roll instead of an egg crime scene.
"Not bad," I said as she carefully transferred it to a plate. "A few more tries and you'll have it down."
"This is way harder than it looks." She poked at her creation with a fork. "How do you make it look so easy?"
"Practice. And a lot of ugly first attempts."
She took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Okay, that's actually really good. Even if it looks weird."
"See? Doesn't matter what it looks like." I started cleaning up the pan for another round. "Want to try again? Or we could do something easier."
"One more try. I think I'm getting it."
"Cool. Though we should probably wrap this up soon, don't you have training with Mito-sama later?"
"She'll be fine with it. This is educational." Kushina grinned. "I'm learning life skills. That counts as training, right?"
"I'm sure she'll see it that way."
"She will once I bring her some of these. Grandma Mito's got a serious sweet spot for good food."
"Smart. Bribe her with breakfast."
"It's not bribing, it's... sharing. Educational sharing."
"Right. Educational."
Twenty minutes and two slightly lopsided but edible omelets later, Kushina was wrapping her creation in a bento box.
"Thanks for this," she said, heading toward the door.
"Yeah, thanks for the upgrade. This is going to make missions way easier."
"Just... don't do anything stupid out there, okay?" She paused at the door. "Seriously. Come back in one piece."
"I'll do my best."
After she left, I spent the next hour cleaning up my apartment. Dishes went in the sink, all my scattered notes got filed where they belonged, gear got checked and put away properly. I loaded up my new seal compartments one by one—tanto in the top left, extra kunai and shuriken in their own spots, emergency stuff spread across the other slots. The shadow clone scroll and my research notes went into the bottom right.
Much better than the old system.
With my gear sorted, I headed back to the kitchen. Team meals on missions were usually terrible—travel rations, whatever we could scrounge, maybe some sad campfire cooking if we were lucky. Most missions stretched on for days, sometimes weeks, with barely enough downtime to heat up a can of something, let alone prepare an actual meal. We'd be moving constantly, sleeping in shifts, living off protein bars and whatever field rations command had deemed "nutritionally adequate." But I had time to prepare something decent, and my teammates had earned a proper meal after our last assignment.
I started with the rice, washing it until the water ran clear—three rinses minimum for good texture. While that soaked, I began prep work for tempura. The key was keeping everything cold and not overworking the batter. Cold ingredients, cold oil, minimal mixing. Most people ruined tempura by treating it like regular frying.
For vegetables, I selected what would travel well—sweet potato, eggplant, bell peppers, shishito peppers. The sweet potato needed to be cut thin enough to cook through but thick enough to hold its shape. Eggplant in half-inch rounds, bell peppers in strips, shishitos left whole with just a small slit to prevent bursting.
The batter came together with ice water, flour, and just a touch of cornstarch for extra crispness. I mixed it with chopsticks in broad, gentle strokes, leaving it lumpy. Smooth batter was overworked batter, and overworked batter meant tough, chewy tempura.
Oil temperature was critical—340 degrees, hot enough for immediate bubbling but not so hot it burned the batter before the vegetables cooked through. I tested with a drop of batter, watching it sizzle and rise to the surface immediately.
Perfect.
The vegetables went in one by one, each piece carefully coated but not drowning in batter. Sweet potato first since it took longest, then eggplant, peppers, and finally the delicate shishitos. I turned each piece once, watching for that pale golden color that meant done without being greasy.
While the tempura drained on a wire rack, I moved on to the dipping sauce—a simple blend of dashi, soy sauce, and mirin in a 4:1:1 ratio. The proportions mattered. Too much soy and it overpowered the vegetables. Too much mirin and it became cloying.
Rice went into the pot with the proper water ratio—one part rice to 1.2 parts water. Bring to a boil, reduce to low, cover, and don't touch for eighteen minutes. The hardest part of cooking rice was resisting the urge to check on it.
Miso soup was straightforward but required timing. Kombu kelp steeped in hot water for the dashi base, then removed before it made the broth bitter. Wakame seaweed rehydrated separately, tofu cut into neat cubes. The miso paste went in at the very end, whisked gently to dissolve without boiling—boiling killed the beneficial bacteria and turned the flavor harsh.
Daikon radish grated fine, squeezed lightly to remove excess moisture, then formed into small mounds. A few drops of soy sauce on each portion, ready for mixing with the tempura at serving time.
Finally, the tea. Good sencha leaves, water heated to 175 degrees—hot enough to extract flavor but not so hot it pulled out excessive tannins. Steep for ninety seconds, no longer.
I packed everything in containers designed to keep hot food hot and cold food cold. The tempura went into ventilated containers to prevent steaming and sogginess. Rice and soup in insulated thermal containers. The tea in a proper flask that would keep it at drinking temperature for hours.
By the time I finished, I had enough food for six people. I sealed the containers into my storage compartments—they'd stay fresh until we were ready to eat. The upgraded glove made packing so much easier; everything I needed fit into the six compartments without any bulk or weight.
I was doing a final check of my gear when my ear twitched. Familiar footsteps on the stairs outside—quick, light, with that particular rhythm I'd learned to recognize over the past few weeks.
Kushina.
Sure enough, my door opened without a knock. She poked her head in.
"Forgot something," she said, stepping inside and pulling a thick book from her seal. "Figured you might want this since I can't teach you Fuinjutsu while you're gone."
The book was clearly well-used, pages marked with dozens of small tabs covered in her neat handwriting. Fuinjutsu Theory and Applications.
"This is..." I flipped through a few pages, seeing detailed diagrams with her notes explaining everything. "You sure about this? This looks like some pretty heavy stuff."
"All my notes from the past year are in there too." She grinned. "Consider it a loan."
"Thanks. This is perfect."
"Just don't blow yourself up experimenting." She was already heading back toward the door. "And bring it back in one piece."
"I'll guard it with my life."
"You better."
After she left, I stored the book in one of my seal compartments, then moved back to the center of the room. Time to put the shadow clone jutsu to practical use.
The first clone materialized with that now-familiar puff of smoke.
"Scouting mission," I told him. "Head to the rendezvous point ahead of schedule. Get a feel for the area, check for anything suspicious. Standard reconnaissance."
"Got it." The clone headed for the window. "Anything specific I should watch for?"
"Just get the lay of the land. I'll be along in a few hours with the team."
He nodded and disappeared into the morning light.
I took a moment to gauge my remaining chakra reserves—still plenty, but creating clones was expensive. The second clone cost me another significant chunk, but it was worth it for what I had planned.
"Different job for you," I told the new clone. "Meditate, build up chakra, then start making more clones. Have them henge and spread out around the village."
[AN: Just in case anyone's wondering, Shinji's clones being able to regenerate chakra isn't a plot hole. It's connected to his mother's side of the family and some shenanigans that'll be explained properly later. For now, just know there's a reason his shadow clones don't follow normal rules.]
"What am I looking for?"
"Root operatives. Anyone who doesn't belong, weird patrol patterns, general suspicious stuff." I scratched my head. "Just keep your eyes open. See what's happening while we're gone."
The clone was already settling into a meditation pose. "How many clones we talking?"
"As many as you can manage without burning through everything. But here's the important part—every clone dispels before twenty-four hours. Set a mental timer or something."
"Memory overload concerns?"
"Yeah. Twenty-four hours of memories dumping back all at once sounds like a recipe for a massive headache." I headed toward the door. "I don't want to find out what happens when too much gets dumped back at once."
"Fair enough. Brain damage from jutsu experimentation isn't exactly on my bucket list either."
"Oh, and set aside a few clones for research. Have them work on the kage bunshin modifications and study that fuinjutsu book Kushina gave me."
"Already thinking the same thing. Separate the intelligence gathering from the technical work." The clone cracked his knuckles. "I'll call it the research division. Sounds official."
"Four or five should cover it. Two for clone jutsu, two for the fuinjutsu, maybe a backup in case someone screws up and dispels accidentally."
"I'll find them a quiet spot where they won't get interrupted by curious neighbors." He was already planning locations. "Your apartment should work for most of it."
"Perfect. Try not to burn the place down while I'm gone." I stepped outside, already planning my next stop. The weapons shop would have what I needed before meeting up with the team.
…..
I stepped out of my apartment, squinting slightly as the early sun hit my face. Already mentally cataloging what I needed from the market—kunai, shuriken, maybe some wire if they had the good stuff in stock. The upgraded storage seal meant I could actually carry a decent arsenal without looking like a walking armory.
But first things first.
Hanako's dango shop sat on the corner where my street met the main market road, and the sweet smell of grilled rice dumplings was already drifting from her tiny storefront. The old woman had been running that place since before I was born, and her dango was legendary among anyone with functioning taste buds.
"Morning, Hanako-san," I called out as I approached her stall.
"Shinji-kun!" Her wrinkled face creased into that perpetual smile that made her look like someone's favorite grandmother. "Off on another adventure?"
"Something like that." I leaned against her counter, watching her expertly flip skewers over the small charcoal grill. "How's business?"
"Can't complain. Though with all this war talk, people are buying more sweets. Nothing like impending doom to make folks crave comfort food." She chuckled, pulling a fresh batch of mitarashi dango from the grill. "These just finished. Want some for the road?"
"Always."
She handed me three skewers, the dumplings still steaming and glazed with that perfect sweet-salty sauce that somehow made everything else in life seem manageable. I paid her with exact change and took a careful bite, savoring the way the soft rice flour melted against the tangy glaze.
"Mmm. Still the best in the village."
"Flatterer. Now get going before you're late for whatever trouble you're planning to get into."
I waved goodbye and headed toward the market proper, working my way through the first skewer as I walked. The dango was perfectly chewy, with just enough char from the grill to add complexity to the sweetness. Some people rushed through food like it was an inconvenience, but good dango demanded proper appreciation.
The shopping district was already bustling despite the early hour. War had a way of making everyone suddenly interested in sharp objects. I made my way to Tsumura’s shop—not the fanciest place in the district, but the owner kept quality gear and didn't try to sell you garbage just because you looked young.
"Shinji," he nodded as I approached, barely glancing up from the kunai he was sharpening. "Heard you made chunin pay on your last mission."
"News travels fast."
"Good news travels fast. Bad news travels faster. And gossip about genin teams making A-rank pay? That's practically breaking news." He set down his sharpening stone. "What do you need?"
"Standard resupply. Kunai, shuriken, whatever throwing weapons you've got in good condition."
"Planning to fight an army?"
"With my luck? Probably." I took another bite of dango, chewing thoughtfully. "Better to have too many than not enough."
He started pulling weapons from his organized displays, setting them on the counter for my inspection. The steel was clean, the edges properly maintained, the balance points where they should be. Tsumura knew his business.
I was testing the weight of a particularly nice kunai when familiar voices drifted over from the next stall.
"—don't see why we need so many ration packs. It's just an escort mission."
"Because you never know how long these things will actually take, Noboru. Better to have too much food than not enough."
I turned, spotting a head of pale blonde hair that I recognized immediately. Miyabi stood with her back to me, examining travel supplies while her teammates clustered around her, fidgeting with gear and asking way more questions than normal. Definitely gearing up for something longer than their typical missions.
'Well, well. Fancy meeting Team 4 here.'
I paid Tsumura for my weapons, sealing them into the appropriate compartments of my glove, then wandered over with my remaining dango skewers.
"Morning, Miyabi. Getting ready for a big adventure?"
She turned, amber eyes taking in my appearance with that calculating look she'd perfected during our Academy days. "Shinji. I should have guessed you'd be haunting the shopping district."
"Nice to see you too, Miyabi." I took a bite of my dango. "Always such a warm welcome." I nodded toward her team. "Speaking of which, hey there Spy-boy, Yua. Still letting your fearless leader drag you into trouble?"
Noboru—the civilian-born kid who'd tried to spy on my flag during the survival exercise—scowled. "It's Noboru."
"Right, sure." I took another bite of dango, not looking particularly apologetic. "Though judging by the amount of ration packs you're stocking up on, this isn't a day trip. What's the mission?"
Yua snorted quietly. "He only remembers girls' names."
"That's not—" I stopped. "Okay, maybe there's some truth to that."
“Unbelievable,” Miyabi shook her head with obvious exasperation. "Anyway, it's an escort assignment. Small merchant caravan heading to the Land of Hot Water, then back to the Fire Country capital."
I nearly choked on my dango.
"Escort mission? For merchants? Right now?" I swallowed carefully, my brain immediately jumping to all the intelligence reports I'd been reading. "That's... interesting timing."
"What do you mean?" Yua looked up from the pack she'd been examining.
"Well..." I tried to sound casual. "I don't want to freak you out, but merchant caravans haven't exactly been having the best time lately."
Miyabi's eyes sharpened. "Explain."
"Foreign shinobi have been hitting trade routes all over the neutral states. Coordinated attacks, professional operations. We ran into some of them on our last mission." I let that sink in, watching their expressions shift from curiosity to concern. "Apparently it's been getting worse."
"How much worse?" Noboru's voice had gone up half an octave.
"Bad enough that most merchants are pooling resources for large caravans with heavy security. The ones still trying to make small runs..." I shrugged, taking another bite of dango. "Well, let's just say the casualty reports make for depressing reading."
Yua shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe we should ask for backup."
"Backup? For a C-rank escort?" Miyabi sounded almost offended. "We can handle some bandits."
"These aren't bandits." I dropped the casual act. "These are trained shinobi from other villages. We're talking chunin-level operatives with mission parameters that go way beyond simple robbery."
The mood shifted instantly. Noboru went pale. Yua's eyes went wide, like she was trying not to panic.
Miyabi, to her credit, didn't flinch. "You're saying this is connected to the war."
"I'm saying merchants getting hit by coordinated attacks from foreign shinobi during a time when supply lines are critically important probably isn't a coincidence." I finished the second skewer and started on the third. "Could be Suna trying to strangle our resource flow. Could be other villages taking advantage of the chaos. Either way, it's not the kind of thing you want to walk into with just a three-man genin team."
"So what, we just bail on our mission?" Miyabi's voice had an edge to it.
"I'm saying maybe you want some backup who actually know what they're doing." I grinned. "And as it happens, my team is heading to the same general area. Investigating these attacks is literally our assignment."
Noboru perked up immediately. "You mean you could come with us?"
"Well, I'd have to check with my team, but if we're going to be operating in the same area anyway..." I spread my hands. "Makes sense to coordinate our efforts."
"That's..." Noboru started, then caught Miyabi's look and shut his mouth.
Miyabi was staring at me with her usual drill-right-through-you stare, probably trying to figure out if I had some angle or if I was actually being helpful. Smart of her. With me, it was usually both.
"Your team," she said after a moment. "That would be Team 7? Tsunade's students?"
"Yep. Just got back from an A-rank, we've all seen real combat, and we've got one of the best medics in the village." I took another bite, looking way too casual. "But hey, if you'd rather take on foreign shinobi with just your genin squad, totally up to you. I'm sure it'll work out great."
The silence stretched for several seconds. I could practically hear the gears turning in their heads—especially Noboru and Yua, who were probably calculating their survival odds with and without backup.
"What exactly are you proposing?" Miyabi asked.
"Pretty simple. You're escorting merchants through dangerous territory. We're investigating attacks on merchants in dangerous territory." I waved my skewer around. "We travel together, watch each other's backs, everyone makes it home. Plus if we do hit trouble, you get an extra genin who actually knows what he's doing instead of just hoping teamwork saves the day."
"And what's in it for you?"
I could see her trying to figure out my angle - she knew me well enough to know there had to be one. "Other than the warm fuzzy feeling of helping my fellow Konoha shinobi?" I grinned. "Look, I know you think I'm an ass, but this makes sense. We need intel. If someone's hitting merchant caravans, having an actual caravan to observe gives us better data than just investigating crime scenes."
Miyabi was quiet for a long moment, amber eyes flicking between her teammates and me. Noboru was practically vibrating with nerves, like he was trying to sink into his own shoulders. Yua was squinting so hard I was worried she'd give herself a headache.
"When do you leave?" I asked finally.
"Tomorrow morning. Rendezvous at the main gate, then pickup our caravan and head out," Miyabi said, then gave me a knowing look. "And your sensei is okay with this arrangement?"
"She's on the frontlines, so as long as we get the job done, she won't complain."
Miyabi nodded slowly, like she'd been expecting that answer. "Frontlines. Yeah, figured as much."
"Your sensei too?"
"Also deployed. All the experienced jonin are getting pulled away. Leaves us genin to handle the 'routine' missions."
"Routine," I said with a laugh. "Right. Because escorting merchants through hostile territory is super routine."
"Exactly." Her eyes had that grim look, but then she was studying my face again. "Still doesn't explain why you're suddenly so helpful though."
"Miyabi," Noboru said quietly, "maybe we should—"
"I'm thinking," she cut him off, still staring at me. "This feels like you're not telling me something."
"I'm not scheming anything." I tossed the empty skewer into a trash bin. "Just makes sense for our teams to work together."
"Just makes sense," she repeated, like she didn't buy it.
"Shinobi's honor."
"You don't have any honor."
"Wow. Rude."
Despite herself, I caught the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth that might have been amusement. "Fine. But we keep separate command. You don't boss around my team, I don't mess with yours."
"Wouldn't dream of it. You're way too scary when you're angry."
"Good." She turned to her teammates. "Finish getting supplies. Main gate tomorrow at two."
"Yes, ma'am," they chorused, though Noboru looked significantly more relieved than he had five minutes ago.
"Excellent," I said, already planning how to break this news to my own team. "This should be fun."
Miyabi's expression hardened. "Fun? This isn't a game, Shinji. I've got three teammates depending on me to keep them alive."
"Right, sorry. Poor choice of words." I held up my hands. "I meant it should work out well for everyone involved."
"It better. Because if your 'fun' gets any of my team hurt..." She didn't finish the sentence.
"Hey, I have a decent track record for keeping people alive."
"Decent isn't good enough. These are my teammates, not expendable resources." She turned back to examine their packs, clearly done with the conversation. "Get going, Shinji. Don't be late."
"Right. See you at the gate."
I headed back toward the market proper, feeling like I'd just stepped on a landmine. Okay, lesson learned, Miyabi took the whole 'team leader' thing way more seriously than I'd given her credit for.
But honestly, having Team 4 along might not be the worst thing. Miyabi was competent and more eyes meant better security. Plus, if things went sideways—and knowing my luck, they probably would—having extra backup never hurt.
More importantly, having an actual merchant caravan could be useful for our investigation. Nothing like live bait to draw out whatever foreign shinobi were hitting trade routes. If we could capture some of these "bandits" and send them back to T&I for questioning, we'd get a lot more intel than just examining crime scenes.
I finished grabbing the last few things and started heading back to the apartment, mentally checking off my shopping list.
Comments
Ulthor
I will play the Devil's advocate here and say that Miyabi is letting her anxiety do the thinking. It was but before the mission and then Shinji all but invited himself and his team to join them. I think Shinji might be unaware exactly how much influence Team 7 has with a Sannin as the teacher. For all intent and purpose Miyabi couldn't really refuse and tell him to go take a hike. She did come off as a bit insecure and confrontational but hell that's some decent character building. Shinji also shared the intelligence about foreign chunnins masquerading as bandits but he also came of as just a tiny bit patronizing. Yeah, I'm looking forward to seeing this next mission. Also, I'm hoping for Tsunade to make a return as a teacher.
Aeden Emrys
Thanks for the chapter! Love the homely interactions between our MC and Kushina 😍! I'm looking forward to reading much more of this greatly interesting story!
Middlemoe2
Okay, I feel like Miyabi I needs a reality check. This is war and their Genin, where what only she actually brings something to the table cause shes a mini Tsunade that doesn't want to follow her footsteps? Ya he messed with her, but news flash girl! Schools over and war is right in your face, take the help without being a bitch. You're all allies here trying to survive, only ones you gotta watch out for are the actual traitors in your village because they're retarded old ppl and their sycophants. Lol didn't mean to rant. Kushina time and clone stuff was good tho!
Orchamus
Hhmm, I'm getting vibes that the Elders and Co are make ng even more shady moves in the background. Could be the number of of fics I've read but him meets my a Senju getting sent out like that makes me feel something be fishy
