Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

The search consumed Amegakure. Tonbo crossed district after district under Hayakawa’s face, leading patrols through warehouses, drainage channels, abandoned rooms, and crowded shelters. He used the work to observe Konan and the movements of Pain’s bodies without ever approaching the central tower. Any intelligence gathered now had to look accidental. Hayakawa could be diligent; he could not become curious about his own rulers overnight. 

Root operatives continued to die. Some hid well enough to evade ordinary units for days, only for Konan or one of the Paths to find them. Others attempted to flee and vanished before reaching the outer districts. Nagato maintained the pressure with a patience that suggested he cared less about immediate disruption than about ensuring no foreign report escaped. 

Tonbo sent nothing to the underground chamber. A message, construct, or pulse might reveal the very people he wanted to warn. Togekei knew the withdrawal signals and had enough judgment to stay concealed. 

That did not make waiting comfortable. Tonbo reviewed possible exits: through the sky, through water, underground, even openly through the main gate. He wanted a way out ready before some unexpected technique exposed him. 

Borrowed Signature had survived the rain. He did not assume it would survive everything Amegakure could invent. 

”Prepare to run,” Tonbo told his reflection in Hayakawa’s mirror. The borrowed face showed no fear. 

Far below, Murakumo examined the information carried back by his mice through Super Beast Imitating Drawing. Several animals had not returned. The survivors reported sealed roads, patrols at every major junction, and summons moving through districts that ordinary scouts once crossed safely. 

”We would be dead if we had gone outside,” he said. 

Togekei sat opposite him beside the concealment seal. ”Any sign of Teacher?” 

”None. If he is still operating, he cannot risk contact.” 

”Then we continue waiting.” 

Iwao leaned against the earthen wall. ”Then we have lost contact?” 

Murakumo ate sushi he had stolen earlier. ”The captain’s barrier deserves respect. My scouts barely escaped three sensory sweeps today. We have sat beneath the village throughout the alert, and no one has touched this chamber.” 

Togekei took little comfort from the praise. Tonbo had entered Amegakure alone because none of them could reproduce his deception. Months earlier, Togekei had wanted to prove that his former teacher no longer needed to protect him. Now his greatest contribution was preventing two Root agents from making the situation worse. 

In Konoha, Danzō struck his desk after receiving another casualty report. 

”They possess more than one detection method,” he said. ”The rain was only the outer layer.” 

A masked Root operative waited without movement. 

”Send word. Even if there are sacrifices, they must uncover all the enemy’s other sensory methods.” 

The operative disappeared. 

Danzō returned to the map. Sacrifices were acceptable if they brought the Rinnegan within reach. 

The alert continued for half a year. 

”Training again, Captain Hayakawa?” 

Tonbo lowered the umbrella weapon in an Amegakure practice yard. He had recently completed another B-rank assassination under the dead man’s name. Refusing missions would have invited scrutiny; succeeding at them strengthened the identity and exposed more of the village’s external network. 

”God and Lady Angel have restored our work,” he replied. ”I would be ungrateful if I allowed my skills to dull.” 

The other shinobi nodded approvingly. ”Praise God and Lady Angel.” 

”I only wish the alert would end,” Tonbo said. ”Every time I leave on a mission, I worry one of our own will stab me in the back.” 

”Foreign villages sent too many infiltrators. There was no choice. But most have been eliminated now, and things should return to normal soon.” 

”That is good news.” 

Tonbo hoped so, though he no longer needed them to. Months of mobilization had forced Amegakure to reveal personnel, command relationships, patrol reserves, summons, and response times that peacetime observation might never have exposed. 

He estimated roughly thirty jōnin, more than five hundred chūnin, and a much larger genin force. Their standards were looser than Konoha’s, but the numbers could not be ignored. He reckoned he had gathered eighty percent of the village’s general intelligence. 

Information about Konan and Nagato remained scarce. Pursuing more would mean approaching the one area where Hayakawa had no reason to go. Hiruzen had sent Tonbo to determine whether civil conflict threatened the region, not to gamble his life on knowing every secret of the Rinnegan. 

The mission was complete. 

His twins were nearing their first birthday. He missed them terribly. It was time to go home. 

At Hayakawa’s house, he formed seals and released a small woven pangolin into the floor. The construct burrowed toward the hidden chamber. 

Togekei placed a shōgi piece with quiet satisfaction. ”Checkmate.” 

Iwao stared at the board. Six months beneath Amegakure had given the three men time to exhaust nearly every game they knew, and Togekei had become intolerably good at this one. 

The earthen floor shifted. All three reached for weapons before a woven pangolin emerged and opened its mouth. 

”Mission complete. Withdraw.” 

Relief broke their discipline for a moment. Murakumo laughed; Iwao swept the pieces into their case; Togekei closed his eyes and released a breath he seemed to have held for months. 

They packed the scrolls, dismantled sensitive portions of the chamber, and entered the escape tunnel without looking back. 

After they left, a figure rose silently from the earth. He wore a black cloak, with a white spiral wrapped around his head and one Sharingan visible through the mask. 

Two voices spoke from the same form. 

”Half a year beneath Nagato’s search,” the lighter voice said. ”They are better at hiding than they look.” 

”We do not need to stop them,” the other answered. ”Their mission is finished, and their intelligence can become leverage. Proof that I understand Konoha’s intrusion will make Nagato more willing to trust my strength.” 

”Why not catch them and make them poop?” the lighter voice asked. ”I want to know what that feels like. I hear it feels wonderful afterward.” 

”Boring.” 

Space warped around the figure, and he vanished before the rain above could register that anyone had been there.