Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

Tonbo sensed three children hiding in the bushes near Training Ground 98. He pretended not to notice them and began his usual physical training. 

Two hundred one-finger handstand repetitions came first, followed by two thousand push-ups, several one-handed sets, and repeated movement drills. Physical and mental development determined chakra reserves, so Tonbo had never allowed genjutsu research to replace taijutsu. 

He lacked Might Guy’s extraordinary physical aptitude. Technique, analysis, and consistency compensated for what natural talent did not provide. 

The one-finger balance strengthened wrists and shoulders while forcing precise chakra control through a narrow point. Push-ups built endurance without damaging the field, and the movement drills linked physical conditioning to combat patterns. Tonbo chose exercises that served several purposes rather than copying Guy’s volume for its own sake. 

Inuzuka Hana watched from the bushes with open admiration. Her clan emphasized taijutsu and trained beside ninken from childhood, giving her enough experience to understand the difficulty of Tonbo’s routine. Even her father could not perform the exercises with such apparent ease. 

She swallowed. Their planned attack seemed less promising. 

”That is Iruka-sensei’s teacher?” whispered the thin boy beside her. His hair was parted in the middle, and suspenders held up his trousers. ”If we hit someone that strong, will he strike us back?” 

The heavier boy, whose cheeks bore marks resembling whiskers, refused to retreat. ”We are children. The psychology book said adults forgive children unless they do something truly terrible.” 

”Are you certain that book applies to attacking jōnin?” 

Hana steadied them. ”If he becomes angry, we say Iruka-sensei encouraged us. Then he will direct the anger toward Iruka instead.” 

Their teacher had told the class he hoped someone would strike Tonbo several extra times. The children interpreted that invitation as proof of an existing dispute and a ready-made method for shifting blame. 

”Hana-nee is right,” both boys agreed. 

At the Academy, Iruka sneezed while organizing assignments. He wiped his nose and wondered whether the changing season had given him a cold. 

The completed homework pleased him. Eightfold Flavor had transformed the class into diligent students, and Iruka considered his first week an undeniable success. 

He had not yet learned that silence could conceal a different kind of misbehavior. The same children who completed their assignments now used Academy lessons in observation, planning, and misdirection to organize revenge. In its own way, the technique had motivated practical study beyond the curriculum. 

At Training Ground 98, Tonbo continued his routine while listening to the children discuss him. 

Why did they want to strike him? Why did they believe Iruka would accept responsibility? What exactly had his former student done at school? 

Tonbo’s hands and feet continued moving while the questions accumulated. 

He practiced the taijutsu system developed for his own body. Elements taken from Iwagakure’s stability, Kumogakure’s explosive entries, and Konoha’s adaptable forms had been rebuilt into transitions suited to Tonbo’s sensory fighting style. The result was not universally stronger than any source. It was stronger in his hands because every movement supported the way he perceived and planned combat. 

His covered eyes made opponents expect defensive hesitation. Tonbo instead positioned himself through chakra signatures and air movement, keeping his torso aligned with threats he never appeared to watch. Short steps preserved balance for seals, while compact strikes left one hand free for genjutsu or a prepared tool. 

His fists struck the training post in a steady rhythm. 

Then Tonbo stopped and looked directly toward the bushes. 

The three children emerged. Hana led with the triangular markings on her cheeks and an expression of perfect innocence. 

”Mister, are you a shinobi?” 

Her eyes widened with rehearsed admiration. The boys behind her struggled not to react. Their leader could imitate sweetness far better than they expected. 

”I am,” Tonbo said. ”Should you not be in class?” 

”You are amazing,” all three said at once. 

”Do you want to become Hokage?” 

”We have the day free and came to practice. Could you teach us?” 

Tonbo knew the performance was false. It remained effective. They were small, earnest in their conspiracy, and far more carefree than Itachi had been at the same age. Their attempt made Tonbo feel briefly younger himself. 

”I do not want to be Hokage,” he said. ”One of you can inherit that burden. Tell me what you have learned, and I will teach you something useful. I am exceptionally qualified.” 

The children exchanged glances. Becoming a Hokage candidate sounded attractive, but revenge came first. 

Hana opened her arms. ”I want to become strong too. Could you hold me so I can understand what a great shinobi feels like?” 

”Introduce yourselves first.” 

”Inuzuka Hana.” 

”Fūma Shikun.” 

”Izuno Saiji.” 

Tonbo recognized only Hana as Kiba’s older sister. Her remembered personality was not nearly this gentle, confirming the act, yet he lifted her anyway. 

The boys exchanged their signal and kicked at Tonbo’s legs. 

”Now!” 

Hana’s innocent expression vanished. She punched him in the face while he loosened his grip, landed beside her companions, and fled along the route they had prepared. 

Tonbo covered his cheek and pretended to suffer. 

Then he smiled. 

The children had gathered information, selected an approach, exploited an expected social response, and arranged an escape. He appreciated thought applied to action. Their only failure was assuming that whispering within a sensor’s range counted as secrecy. 

They had also underestimated the gap between executing a plan and controlling what followed. Landing the first strike accomplished nothing if the target remained capable of pursuit. Their escape route contained no obstacles, alternate branches, or method of hiding their chakra. Success had made them celebrate before reaching safety. 

If they wanted to learn what successful tactics felt like, Tonbo could also let them experience what it meant to challenge a teacher. 

He formed seals. 

”Earth Release: Earth-Style Wall.” 

The children ran at full speed. 

”We did it!” one boy shouted. ”We struck Iruka-sensei’s teacher.” 

”Hana-nee’s acting was perfect.” 

”Acting?” Hana demanded. ”Are you saying I am not naturally charming?” 

”You are. Completely natural.” 

Their celebration ended when the path disappeared. 

A cliff opened directly ahead. All three stopped at the edge and stared down at ground dozens of meters below. The boys collapsed backward, dizzy from the sudden height. 

The earth had risen without the violent impact they expected from a technique of that size. Soil compressed into sheer sides, carrying grass, roots, and the children upward as one block. Their speed had hidden the motion until the new edge filled their vision. 

”What happened?” 

”Genjutsu?” 

Hana inspected the distant forest and Konoha beyond it. Cliffs surrounded them on every side. They stood atop a massive square column of raised earth. 

”Not genjutsu,” she said. ”Earth Release.” 

The scale of the wall silenced them.