Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

”Dragonfly, I hear you’ve got a team now. Anything dangerous in it?” Teuchi asked, setting down a bowl of ramen. Tonbo watched the steam rise and let its familiar scent settle him.

”Just a squad of genin, not an S-rank posting. Nothing to worry about.” Tonbo accepted the bowl.

Teuchi nodded, satisfied, though he pressed further. ”You’re not even with them right now?”

”They’re on D-rank labor. A Shadow Clone’s more than enough supervision for that.”

He wanted to see Ayame today, and there was nothing wrong with that. Let anyone try to object.

Ayame laughed from the back. ”That’s a little shameless, Dragonfly. Other captains actually stay with their teams.”

”I take it plenty seriously! Every mission the Village hands me gets finished clean, no complaints.” Tonbo slurped his noodles, unbothered.

It wasn’t even a lie, not really. He’d put real thought into the three of them, more than anyone watching him wolf down ramen might have guessed — this was his actual job now, after all, and he intended to be good at it. Even so, half a month in, Iruka and the others were still burning at the same pitch they’d started with. The smallest D-rank chore, one mention of the Will of Fire, and they lit up like they’d been wound tight and let loose.

He probably could have saved himself the trouble of inventing so many other tricks. The Will of Fire alone would have carried the whole month.

To keep things running smoothly, he’d studied the angle properly, and after half a month of minor missions, the three had finally begun cementing what the Academy had only handed them in theory.

Before he had lived through these years himself, he’d never understood why Konoha started its graduates on chores instead of something worthy of their chakra. Now, leading a team himself, the reasoning made sense. These small assignments built patience, discipline, tracking, analysis — every piece of what the Academy had taught, given its first real test outside a classroom. Just as he’d concluded long ago on the battlefield, the true core of shinobi work wasn’t ninjutsu at all, but intelligence and analysis — down to the basic arithmetic of a thrown kunai’s arc, without which a shinobi couldn’t reliably hit anything at all, however impressive the technique behind it looked on paper.

”Ayame. Let’s talk about when we’re getting married. I want two boys with you, both sturdy, and I’m going to raise them to outclass the God of Shinobi himself.”

The thought had passed through him unbidden, and he said it plainly.

Ayame’s hands stilled. Color rushed to her face, and it suited her.

”You — what did you just say?”

”Marriage. Let’s set a date.”

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Teuchi’s eyes narrowed. ”You’re both still young. Wait two more years, at least.”

”I know we’re young. I just want it settled so I can prepare properly.” Tonbo scratched his head, though he meant every word. This mattered to him more than almost anything.

”Hmm. I’ll find you a good day for it. Not here, though — customers are watching. Come by the house tonight and we’ll talk properly,” Teuchi said, glancing at the nearby tables and their poorly hidden interest.

The flush hadn’t left Ayame’s face, though the shock had softened into something warmer.

I’m usually so composed, she thought. Why does he undo me so easily?

”Understood,” Tonbo said, grinning hard enough to strain his own face.

There was no doubt left in it now. This was happening.

”Go find your team before the Hokage catches you slacking,” Teuchi said, ushering him out before the conversation could draw any more attention.

Tonbo finished his bowl and headed north, toward Training Ground 98.

”First: never act on impulse. Second: never do anything that harms the Village. Third: never abandon the Will of Fire.”

”Yes, Captain!”

His main body arrived just in time to hear his Shadow Clone deliver that little creed to the three of them in a tone far too dramatic for its own good, and his feet froze mid-step.

Do I actually sound like that?

He dispelled it at once.

Iruka and the others, mid-swell of enthusiasm, watched their captain simply vanish and reappear, and the mood curdled instantly.

”A clone?”

”Ha — just the clone having some fun. Ignore whatever it said.” Tonbo stepped out of the shadows, laughing it off.

Iruka wasn’t having it, jaw set. ”How could we forget that, Captain? And it wasn’t a joke — we’ll carry those three lines with us. I think they’re exactly right. We understand what it means to you, to pass on the Will of Fire, and we believe you carry it as truly as anyone. We’ve still got a long way to go, but don’t mistake that for a lack of resolve.”

Tessen Togekei and Mibu Shinobu nodded along with real conviction.

How could they not feel it? They’d scored well in the Third Hokage’s own lessons on the subject — of course they recognized the weight behind their captain’s three lines, crude as they were next to the genuine article. If anything, the roughness made it feel more sincere. A captain worth following.

Tonbo studied Iruka’s face and could already picture, uncomfortably, what this boy might sound like standing in front of a young Naruto one day, reciting some earnest little creed of his own devising. Worse, if Sasuke ever caught the habit too, in whatever strange way a rival’s influence tended to spread between children — Tonbo shut that thought down before it went any further. Some futures weren’t worth imagining in detail.

”Right. Good that you understand my resolve. Just — keep those three lines between us. Moving on: today I want to start teaching you something that’ll actually improve your strength.”

He changed the subject fast. People who could be talked into half a month of tedious chores without losing their fire were beyond further discussion on the matter. The Third really did have a gift for this.

That got their attention properly.

”Is it the realistic genjutsu, Captain?”

They’d been bored too, in truth, if he was honest — they’d simply told themselves the boredom was part of understanding the Will of Fire, and kept going.

”Over these two weeks you’ve built up real mental reserves, gained some practical intelligence work, and your patience has come a long way. Your fundamentals are improving fast, across the board, faster than I expected from a fresh team. But intelligence and resolve alone aren’t enough — you need individual strength to put that information to use once you actually find something worth acting on. So I’ve put together a proper training program, step by step, to build the three of you into shinobi who can carry their own weight.”

The three straightened, satisfied that their half-month of grinding had led somewhere after all.

What came next pleased them even more, right up until —

”As for the realistic genjutsu — that’s well beyond brand-new genin. Don’t get ahead of yourselves.”