Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

”Brother, who was that bad man?” 

Sasuke rode on Itachi’s back as they crossed Konoha’s main street, the woven figure clutched tightly in one hand. Mikoto followed behind them, privately sharing some of her younger son’s suspicion. A shinobi with Tonbo’s peculiar humor might be a dangerous influence on Itachi. 

Itachi smiled. ”Tobitake Tonbo is a special jōnin and a respected senior of the village. He is not a bad man.” 

”He is. He made me cry.” 

”A special jōnin?” Mikoto asked. She had not realized Hiruzen assigned two jōnin-level shinobi to the same patrol. Seeing Itachi return without a serious wound had already relieved her; learning the strength of his teammates made the result easier to understand. 

”He is a powerful genjutsu specialist,” Itachi said. ”I think his skill can compare with Shisui’s.” 

Mikoto concealed her surprise. Fugaku considered Shisui the greatest Uchiha prodigy of the last decade, and perhaps the clan’s strongest living genjutsu user. If Tonbo earned such an estimate from Itachi after three months beside him, the special jōnin rank hid far more ability than it revealed. 

She also heard no resentment in Itachi’s comparison. Clan pride often taught young Uchiha to treat outsiders’ genjutsu as inferior imitations, yet her son spoke with uncomplicated respect. Whatever Tonbo’s odd behavior at the gate, the mission had given Itachi a teacher beyond the clan whose strength he could acknowledge. 

Sasuke turned the little figure over in his hands. ”What is genjutsu?” 

Elsewhere, Tonbo had already reached home. 

”The petals filled the air,” he told Ayame, gesturing broadly. ”The enemy believed he had escaped, but every retreat carried him toward my trap. The pangolin struck, and I completed the fight without a wound.” 

He leaned toward her belly. ”Did you hear that? When you grow up, you will be even stronger than your father.” 

Ayame stroked the curve of her stomach and laughed. ”Your father is very strong. You must grow into someone just as dependable.” 

”Stronger,” Tonbo insisted. ”Our child will not lose to anyone.” 

His imagination ignored all reasonable limits. Under perfect guidance, his son or daughter would exceed Kakashi, Sakumo, Orochimaru, Tsunade, Hashirama, and Madara. Such confidence required no evidence; it was simply part of becoming a father. 

Hayama was responsible for the formal mission report, so Tonbo had returned to Ayame as soon as the team was dismissed. His senses found the steady life within her and released a worry he had carried throughout the journey. The messages from home had been accurate. Mother and child were healthy. 

He embellished his victories partly for the unborn child’s education and partly to reassure Ayame. Border missions carried risk, but he wanted her to understand that he had returned unharmed because his strength and caution were real, not because fortune had spared him. 

After spending the afternoon with her, Tonbo began organizing his next period of research. Setting an example for his child required strength, and his current ability remained far below the figures who would one day threaten the entire shinobi world. 

He wrote the major branches on separate sheets and marked their dependencies. Memory work needed safer methods of entry. Phantom beasts needed structures capable of shaping chakra. Sensory manipulation required delivery mechanisms that could survive real combat. Treating every ambition as one project had obscured which experiments could produce immediate results. 

Psycho Mind Transmission would remain a priority. Tonbo intended to turn the family of memory techniques into a decisive weapon rather than a specialized intelligence tool. 

The Living Weave had reached a bottleneck. It could animate powerful phantom beasts and fill them with combat memories, but appearance did not grant ability. A construct shaped like an imagined legendary warrior became only a physically strong fighter; it could not reproduce powers that its body and chakra system did not possess. The creations also remained unable to cast ninjutsu independently. 

For now, the technique produced varied bodies guided by experience implanted through Psycho Mind Transmission. Tonbo had an early idea for pushing illusion into reality by combining the Living Weave with sealing and barrier ninjutsu, but the theory lacked enough structure to pursue immediately. 

Rumors spoke of a shinobi family capable of influencing and even selling weather. Finding them might eventually provide the missing practical knowledge. 

His Five Senses Manipulation research offered a clearer path. Visual genjutsu had advanced far enough to challenge a shinobi of Shisui’s caliber, and Shape Manipulation was stable. Sound, touch, smell, perceived substance, and broader form remained open fields. 

Auditory genjutsu came first. It promised wide range, fewer obvious defenses, and lower initial difficulty than several alternatives. The Fourth Shinobi World War lay years ahead, assuming the future Tonbo remembered remained recognizable. He had time to develop each branch properly. 

At the Hokage’s office, Hiruzen opened Hayama’s report. 

The document recorded the operation in exacting detail: engagements, changes in border terrain, merchant traffic, weather patterns, intelligence recovered from the enemy, and the condition of each team member. Hayama’s evaluation of Tonbo repeated one word across nearly every category. 

Excellent taijutsu. Excellent ninjutsu. Excellent perception, genjutsu, analysis, and cooperation. 

The report concluded with a recommendation that Tobitake Tonbo be promoted to full jōnin. 

Hiruzen read the supporting incidents twice. Tonbo had identified infiltrators through behavior, detected two enemy leaders, killed one without sacrificing his team, recovered intelligence from several minds, and recognized the economic value of reassuring the Iron merchants. None of those achievements stood alone; together they showed a shinobi capable of shaping an entire mission. 

Special jōnin occupied the same broad organizational level but possessed exceptional ability in a narrower area, with weaknesses that could become decisive if an enemy obtained accurate intelligence. A full jōnin needed enough breadth that no single countermeasure could neutralize him. Hayama believed Tonbo had demonstrated that breadth against Kumogakure. 

Hiruzen agreed. Tonbo’s personal strength, leadership, and judgment now compared favorably with Kakashi and Hayama. Leaving him at special jōnin no longer reflected his actual ability. 

The appointment still required administrative work. Full jōnin received a monthly stipend from the Land of Fire in addition to mission pay, so the village had to report the promotion through formal channels. Hiruzen summoned Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane, explained the recommendation, and assigned them to handle the civil and governmental process. 

The title also changed expectations. A full jōnin could command more dangerous operations, train teams, and represent Konoha in situations where personal judgment carried political weight. Hiruzen would not grant it as a reward for one successful battle. Hayama’s report mattered because it confirmed a pattern already visible across Tonbo’s previous service. 

Both advisers accepted without objection. 

”Hiruzen,” another voice said, ”a shinobi with that talent belongs in Root. Give Tonbo to me, and I will refine him properly.” 

Danzō stood nearby with folded arms, the cross-shaped scar on his chin tightening with his expression. 

”Tonbo requires no training from Root,” Hiruzen replied. ”His loyalty, ability, and judgment are already proven. Interfere with him, and I will reconsider whether Root has any reason to continue existing.” 

A shinobi whose Will of Fire included a pregnant wife and future child had no place in Danzō’s machinery. Families were Konoha’s future; Root treated attachments as defects to be cut away. 

”You will regret this,” Danzō said. 

He knew Hiruzen would never agree. The demand existed only to preserve his claim over any promising shinobi who came within reach.