Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

”Be careful.” 

Tonbo stepped forward and cut toward Itachi with the katana in his right hand. His left hand disappeared behind his torso, fingers closing into a one-handed genjutsu seal. 

Itachi’s Sharingan tracked the blade. Tonbo moved slowly enough that its path was obvious; Itachi could have followed the strike without activating his dōjutsu. The restraint differed so sharply from their earlier spar that it became suspicious. 

Then he noticed the hidden hand. 

Tonbo specialized in illusions and could form seals with one hand. Itachi abandoned his intended block and tried to retreat, but the warning came too late. His senses placed the blade ten centimeters from his arm when cloth tore along his sleeve. 

He jumped back and examined the katana. Had it extended without any visible change? 

Anko frowned from the edge of the training ground. ”What happened? That strike entered a difficult defensive angle before Itachi even raised his blade. He does not make mistakes like that.” 

Two months at the border had shown her the boy’s capabilities. Tonbo was expected to win, but an ordinary Academy graduate should have reacted better to such a simple cut. 

Hayama considered the exchange. ”Did you see Tonbo’s other hand? He concealed a seal behind his body.” 

Anko replayed the motion and realized she had never seen his left hand. A hidden genjutsu explained the unnatural delay far better than carelessness from Itachi. 

”What technique was that?” she asked. ”Every time I think we have seen all his illusions, he produces another.” 

During the quiet weeks, the team had sparred regularly to preserve combat readiness. Anko and Itachi admired Tonbo’s control even while detesting his taste-based genjutsu enough to forbid it during practice. 

”He is not hiding his full strength,” Hayama said. ”We simply have not forced him to reveal it.” 

Anko scowled. She knew that, which only made the reminder worse. Recognizing that an opponent used genjutsu and still being unable to release it offended her professional pride. 

Itachi reached the same answer. Tonbo’s blade had not grown. The illusion altered its position or dimensions in his perception. 

He disrupted his chakra. 

The weapon seemed to lengthen by approximately ten centimeters, although nothing had physically changed. The false image had been shorter than the actual blade. 

He compared the corrected weapon with the memory preserved by his Sharingan. Tonbo had not distorted the entire scene or interfered with Itachi’s sense of balance. The trees, the man’s body, and even the reflection along the steel had remained consistent. Only the boundary of the cutting edge had moved. Such precision demanded less spectacle than a complete illusion and far more control. 

Itachi looked at the torn sleeve. If Tonbo had not stopped the cut, the error would have cost him an arm. 

Traditional illusions announced themselves through impossible events or complete false environments. Once a victim recognized the deception, release became possible. Tonbo’s technique concealed itself inside a small, plausible mistake. A shinobi might blame distance, timing, or his own movement and die before realizing his senses had been altered. 

”You found it already?” Tonbo asked. Disappointment crept into his smile. ”I hoped for a more dramatic reaction.” 

”It is new,” Itachi said. 

”Genjutsu: Shape Manipulation. I developed it during this patrol. It changes how the target perceives the shape of an object. The object itself remains unchanged; only the information reaching your mind is rewritten.” 

Itachi felt an uncomfortable flicker of inadequacy. People called him a prodigy, yet Tonbo had created a subtle battlefield genjutsu while carrying out routine patrols. 

”Now that you understand it,” Tonbo continued, raising the katana, ”you should be able to devise a response. Show me.” 

Itachi, Anko, and Hayama all recognized the difficulty hidden inside the invitation. Information did not neutralize the technique. A warned opponent had to divide attention between the physical weapon and the possibility that its perceived dimensions were false. That suspicion slowed every choice even if Tonbo never cast the illusion again. 

Ignorance created a fatal misjudgment. Knowledge created a second invisible opponent. 

The principle extended beyond swords. A kunai could appear too narrow to strike, a doorway too small to cross, or a hand seal subtly incomplete. Tonbo could alter the perceived shape of a trap trigger, disguise the reach of a wire, or make a foothold seem stable. None required the target to accept anything impossible. Each converted a fraction of uncertainty into hesitation. 

Only a mind incapable of doubt would ignore both effects. 

Itachi formed seals and exhaled a Great Fireball. Flame filled the space between them, breaking line of sight before Tonbo could apply another visual genjutsu. At the same time, Itachi threw kunai in several directions. Fine steel wire trailed behind each weapon and crossed through the smoke in a tightening pattern. 

”Good,” Tonbo called. ”You denied me sight quickly. But you also denied yourself sight.” 

His katana collapsed into a palm-sized blade and disappeared into a pouch. Tonbo formed seals with both hands. 

”Earth Release: Hiding Like a Mole Technique.” 

The ground swallowed him. Tonbo’s sensory field allowed him to navigate without vision, so the fire blocked his genjutsu but not his movement. He passed beneath the flames and surfaced directly in front of Itachi with an exaggerated grin. 

Kunai converged from every direction. 

The wires Itachi had placed were not a blind attack. He adjusted their paths through finger movements while his Sharingan watched Tonbo emerge. Blocking the original line of sight had created time to establish a cage rather than merely protecting him from illusion. 

Itachi had predicted that Tonbo would refuse to remain behind the fireball. An aerial approach would expose him to the kunai lines, while circling the flames would take too long. The ground was the most efficient route for a sensor who did not need sight. Itachi had arranged the wire pattern around the point where that route was most likely to end. 

”Ambushing a defenseless old man of seventeen,” Tonbo complained. ”Shameless.” 

His expression remained calm as he formed seals. 

”Wind Release: Pressure Damage.” 

Compressed air expanded around him like an invisible wall. The kunai stopped, wires snapped taut, and the entire formation blew outward. Steel buried itself in surrounding trunks with a series of heavy impacts. 

Itachi released the wires before the force could drag his arms forward. He retreated two steps, ready for Tonbo to exploit the opening, but the senior shinobi lowered his hands instead. The exchange had already proved what both of them needed to know. 

Tonbo clapped twice. ”Enough. That was a good answer. You have improved.” 

Anko approached and pointed at him. ”You went underground so Itachi could not use his own visual genjutsu. That was unfair.” 

”If the enemy can counter your strength by closing his eyes, learn another method.” 

His satisfaction made her want to strike him. Experience warned her that attempting it would produce another humiliating lesson, so she settled for clenched fists and a glare. 

Itachi said nothing. He moved through the trees and collected every scattered kunai, considering both the weakness he had exposed and the weakness Tonbo had exposed in return. 

He had answered the new genjutsu without attempting to overpower it, exactly as Tonbo’s earlier lesson advised. Tonbo had then answered his counter by changing the field of engagement. Neither solution remained permanent. Combat was a sequence of information, adaptation, and renewed uncertainty, and the shinobi who stopped after finding one correct answer would lose to the next question.