Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

Training Ground 45 rang with the clash of steel. Tessen Togekei caught Kamano Kisa’s descending sickle on his kunai, stepped inside the chain’s reach, and stopped the point against his former classmate’s throat.

”You lose.”

Kisa stared at the blade for a moment before lowering his weapons. ”When did you get this strong?”

The entire fight had been maddening. Every feint had failed. Tessen seemed to anticipate each attack before Kisa committed to it, and every counter had found the weakest point in his stance.

Tessen withdrew the kunai with a grin. ”Our captain is incredible.”

”That’s your explanation?”

”He put us through real combat exercises every day, and he never used the same conditions twice. Compared with the things he made us face, your taijutsu is simple. I’ve already learned how to deal with it.”

He made no effort to hide his pride. Tessen had known Tonbo was strong from the first time their captain defeated the three of them. During their journey, that impression had only deepened. Yet it was not until he used Tonbo’s lessons against someone who had once been his equal that he understood how great the difference truly was. Their captain had to rank among Konoha’s finest shinobi.

Elsewhere, Mibu Shinobu had chosen a former classmate of his own. He ended their contest with the simplest genjutsu in his repertoire: Tonbo’s modified Hell Viewing Technique—Release.

Like Tessen, he had returned eager to measure the results of his training. Unlike Tessen, he refused to explain precisely what Tonbo had taught him. A shinobi did not casually disclose information, especially when it concerned the methods of his captain. When the defeated student pressed him for details, Mibu merely raised a thumb.

”Captain Tonbo is an excellent teacher.” That was both true and sufficiently vague.

He shuddered as he remembered the training itself. ”I never want to experience Captain’s Hell Viewing Technique—Release again.”

All three genin had endured it often enough. Tonbo possessed an unsettling talent for inventing unpleasant incentives, and he always looked far too satisfied when one worked.

Iruka, meanwhile, had no interest in showing off. He stood beside a quiet river on the outskirts of Konoha and practiced Water Release. A narrow dragon rose from the current and twisted unsteadily through the air. It had horns and a long body, so its intended form was recognizable, but only in the way a child’s drawing resembled the real thing.

Iruka grimaced. ”Shape transformation is much harder than it looks.” He wanted to master Tonbo’s lessons as quickly as possible. According to his captain, reducing the time needed to form the Water Dragon Bullet required more than memorizing hand seals. He needed to understand how the water took shape, then maintain that shape through chakra control.

Rat. Horse. Tiger.

The water dragon collapsed with a splash.

”Again.”

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it’s taken without the author’s consent. Report it.

Iruka did not notice Hiruzen Sarutobi watching from behind him. The Third Hokage had arrived quietly and remained out of sight long enough to observe several attempts. A genin capable of producing even an imperfect Water Dragon Bullet was impressive. Tonbo’s standing rose another measure in Hiruzen’s estimation.

When Iruka stopped to catch his breath, Hiruzen stepped onto the riverbank. ”Is the technique too difficult?”

Iruka spun around. ”Third Hokage-sama!”

”You look discouraged.”

”Not discouraged,” Iruka said quickly. ”Captain told us ninjutsu can’t be mastered in a day. It takes practice, over and over. I can perform the hand seals and release the technique, but my dragon forms too slowly, and it isn’t nearly as powerful as his.”

He remembered Tonbo’s demonstration: a majestic water dragon nearly thirty meters tall, complete down to its whiskers. It had possessed enough force to devastate its target, yet Tonbo had controlled it delicately enough to carry the team through the air.

That was what the Water Dragon Bullet was supposed to look like.

Tonbo claimed Iruka could reach that level once he mastered the fundamentals. Looking from the Hokage to his own distorted creation, however, Iruka felt his confidence falter.

”Hokage-sama, is my talent poor? Tessen can already apply Wind Release nature transformation to his weapons, but I’m still struggling with shape transformation.”

Hiruzen blinked, then understood the source of the boy’s frustration. ”Iruka, shape and nature transformation are skills expected of jōnin. It is far too early for you to judge yourself by that standard.”

Iruka’s expression brightened. ”For now, practice,” Hiruzen continued. ”Your control will improve gradually. Most jōnin begin by learning techniques developed by those who came before them. Few shinobi can manipulate shape or nature directly without a great deal of work.”

So Captain really does expect a lot from us, Iruka thought. He was teaching genin principles normally reserved for jōnin.

”Everyone has different strengths,” Hiruzen said. ”You are patient, observant, and methodical. Those qualities suit the study of fundamentals—and, one day, the ability to explain those fundamentals to others. I struggled with difficult techniques too when I was young.”

He smiled beneath his hat. ”Besides, they call me the Professor. I can offer you some guidance.”

”Really?”

”A Hokage does not take back his word.”

At Ichiraku Ramen, Tonbo knew nothing about his students’ separate demonstrations. He had finished reporting to Hiruzen and come directly to see Ayame. After so many meals on the road, the familiar broth alone felt like a homecoming.

”Ayame’s ramen is still the best,” he declared between mouthfuls. ”Nothing outside the village even comes close.”

Ayame’s cheeks colored, but Teuchi gave him an unimpressed look. ”Boy, I learned my craft in the capital before improving it here. Don’t think I can’t tell when you’re flattering my daughter.”

”You’ve surpassed every teacher you ever had, Father-in-law. How can anyone compare?”

”Smooth-talker.”

Ayame leaned across the counter. ”That mission kept you away a long time. It must have been exhausting.”

”Not at all. Knowing you were waiting in Konoha made every day easy.”

”You weren’t injured?” Tonbo set down his bowl and patted his chest. ”I’m the finest sensory shinobi in the Analysis Team. Who could possibly hurt me? Absolutely impossible.”

He wanted Ayame to feel secure whenever he left the village. Boasting was a small price to pay, especially when much of it happened to be true.

”I believe you,” she said. The ramen immediately tasted even better.

After letting them talk for a while, Teuchi finally sent the couple away to walk through the village. Tonbo considered this further proof that his future father-in-law possessed excellent judgment.

He and Ayame wandered hand in hand, trading stories. Tonbo described the capital’s crowded streets, its barriers and unfamiliar technology, even its theaters. Konoha did not yet have a proper movie theater, though he suspected that would change in a few years.

Ayame answered with stories from the ramen shop and neighborhood. Most were harmless bits of gossip. One was not.

There was a blond boy in Konoha, she said, no more than two years old. Lately, villagers had begun calling him the reincarnation of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox. The rumor had spread so widely that adults grew uneasy whenever the child appeared.

Tonbo’s steps slowed. Naruto Uzumaki was only two years old, and the village had already begun to turn against him.