Naruto: Being a Shinobi with no System But...

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Deep beneath the Hokage Building.

This was not the Forbidden Jutsu Chamber where dangerous scrolls were sealed away—this place felt more like a silent, ancient archive. Rows of reinforced metal cabinets stretched into the darkness, each marked with complex numbered sequences and sealed with complicated seal matrixes.

Tsunade stopped before one of the heavier cabinets. Her hands moved in a series of seals, and she pressed her palm to the glowing runes on the door.

A muted click echoed, and the cabinet slowly opened.

”My grandfather’s Chakra was monstrous,” Tsunade said as she reached inside, pulling out several scrolls. ”According to Tobirama-jiji, Hashirama-jiji was already strong in his youth—but nowhere near what he eventually became.”

She tapped the top scroll lightly.

”It was the awakening of Wood Release that marked the turning point.”

”The more he developed it, and the more he clashed with Madara, the more his strength grew. Almost… without limit.”

She gave a faint, nostalgic exhale.

”Tobirama-jiji once described that rise as if it were ’destiny’ itself tightening around Hashirama.”

She handed Roshi one of the scrolls and leaned back against the cabinet, arms folded, silently watching as he unrolled the scroll.

”To be honest,” she added, ”Tobirama-jiji had countless theories about Hashirama-jiji’s cells. He even ran some early experiments. But with the limited technology of that era… nothing truly substantial ever came of it.”

Roshi listened, but his focus was quickly swallowed by the data inside the scroll.

The early sections contained simple records—cell activity measurements, chakra absorption curves, and fluctuations in vitality. As he read further, the experiments became more technical: natural energy affinity tests, Wood Release Chakra reaction models…

But the latter half held the real revelations.

”…The abnormal activity of elder brother’s cells shows a high correlation with the manifestation of Wood Release Chakra. It is unlikely that special cells existed first and produced Wood Release.

Rather, Wood Release—once awakened—reshaped the bearer’s body at a fundamental level.

This is not a one-way cause and effect.

It is a cycle of mutual transformation.”

”The cells display overwhelming devouring and fusion properties, capable of assimilating foreign Chakra to an extraordinary degree…”

The rest was a series of hypotheses—extensions of these conclusions—but notably absent were any references to old-world myths: Kaguya, the Sage of Six Paths, or other godlike figures whispered across the continent.

Perhaps Tobirama, ever the hard realist, had dismissed such tales as superstitions.

Or perhaps the era after Hashirama’s death—the wars, the political crises, the birth of the village system—simply left no time for deeper investigation.

Roshi slowly closed the scroll.

Most of what he read aligned with his personal experiences… but Tobirama’s perspective, paired with the details from Orochimaru’s scroll, allowed several pieces of the puzzle in his mind to finally click into place.

When Tsunade saw his expression shift subtly, she asked,

”Well? What do you think?”

”Tobirama-sama’s conjectures are… very precise.”

”I thought so.” Tsunade nodded. She hadn’t expected him to fully digest everything in one sitting. ”These records are accessible to you anytime. You memorized the unlocking seals?”

After Roshi confirmed, she added sternly:

”You may read them here, but the scrolls themselves cannot leave this room. Everything related to Hashirama-jiji cells is still classified at the highest level.”

”I understand.”

After carefully returning the scrolls and resealing the cabinet, Roshi followed Tsunade back through the long, dim corridor leading out of the underground archive.

Just as he reached the exit, Tsunade called after him.

”Ah—one more thing.”

”When you left yesterday, I briefed Itachi on the situation.”

She paused.

”That child… volunteered to join Anbu.”

”You should already understand his reasons.”

Her amber eyes settled on Roshi.

”But he’s your direct subordinate. Before I approve anything, I need your judgment.”

Roshi considered it.

”In terms of ability, temperament, and loyalty, Itachi is absolutely suited for Anbu work.”

He paused.

”As for the rest… I’ll speak with him personally before making a decision.”

—

After the failed raid, Ao returned to the Land of Waves forward camp. He had barely finished reorganizing the teams when an urgent encoded order arrived.

The moment he read the scroll, a rare look of relief crossed his usually stern face.

The instructions were brief and clear:

All harassment operations against the Fire Country border are to cease immediately.

Front-line forces are to withdraw in an orderly fashion to the preset defensive lines within the Land of Water.

”…Has the Fourth Mizukage finally come to his senses?”

Ao muttered under his breath. The sudden shift was puzzling, but ending this pointless war of attrition was undoubtedly a blessing.

Without hesitation, he ordered all units to pack up and prepare to retreat.

The Hidden Mist would finally breathe again.

Meanwhile, in Kirigakure itself, Elder Genji stared at a copy of the same order, deep wrinkles carving into his brow.

This directive hadn’t passed through the Elder Council.

No prior notification. No strategic meeting. Nothing.

It had been issued directly—signed in the name of the Mizukage’s office.

But border friction with Konoha was not something handled so casually.

Even if Genji personally disapproved of these harassment missions, the abrupt start and sudden termination—both executed unilaterally by Yagura—was unacceptable. The aftermath alone required massive coordination: reclaiming equipment, reorganizing supply lines, reassigning troops…

Yet the front-line had been given the order without any preparations in place.

Unsettled, Genji did something he seldom did—he went straight to the Mizukage’s office and requested an audience.

Yagura was seated behind his desk, shadowed by the Mizukage hat, voice emotionless.

”It is not a cessation,” Yagura said flatly, ”but a reassignment of the unit responsible for the operations.”

”What?” Genji was even more confused. ”The order mentions nothing about a replacement unit. And as an Elder, I have not received any discussion outlines or notifications.”

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He couldn’t shake the uneasy thought creeping up his spine.

Did the Three-Tails’ Chakra finally begin affecting his mind?

Yagura had been a promising young leader… until he became Mizukage. Since then, he had changed—withdrawn, unpredictable, colder.

Genji never even considered the possibility of control.

Kage—especially perfect Jinchuriki—might be killed, but not controlled. Such a thing was unthinkable.

Yagura spoke again, tone smooth and disturbingly calm:

”Given the low morale among our Ninja, I have decided to secretly hire rogue Ninja and mercenary groups to continue the harassment missions.”

Genji almost dropped his snake staff.

”Mizukage-sama, hiring outsiders requires vast funding,” he said, voice trembling. ”Their loyalty is questionable at best. And more importantly… how will the villagers react? How will the Daimyo react?”

”Funds will be drawn from the year’s military budget and commission reserves,” Yagura replied. ”As for public opinion and political matters, I will handle them myself. You need not concern yourself with these matters.”

His tone was final.

Genji stared at the Mizukage for a moment, then bowed stiffly.

”…Yes. I understand.”

He left the office, descending the steps of the Mizukage Building and stepping into the mist-laden streets of the Village Hidden in the Mist.

As he walked, a single conclusion formed—heavy and certain—in his heart.

There is something wrong with Yagura Karatachi.

Whether it was the influence of the Tailed Beast or a deeper, more sinuous threat… the man was no longer fit to sit in the Mizukage’s chair.

But Yagura was a perfect Jinchuriki—his strength was monstrous. Some of the Anbu remained fiercely loyal to him alone.

This could not be handled rashly.

Genji tightened his grip on his staff.

He would need to contact those he trusted most, prepare quietly… and wait for the moment when Hidden Mist could reclaim itself from whatever shadow had taken hold of its leader.

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