Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

Time passed quickly when Tonbo had a problem to solve. 

Chōza’s advice did not resemble Tonbo’s own methods. The Akimichi clan built its secret techniques upon Yang Release, the conversion of stored energy, and generations of practical knowledge about bodies forced beyond their ordinary proportions. Tonbo worked through Yin Release, genjutsu, and temporary structures woven from chakra. The foundations were different; the problem of force remained the same. 

Chōza was the fifteenth head of the Akimichi family. His guidance gave Tonbo ideas that would prove valuable as the work continued. 

The lesson left Tonbo impressed and faintly dissatisfied with himself. Inoichi had provided the same kind of guidance when Living Weave was young: not a completed technique, but a structure of knowledge broad enough to reveal where Tonbo’s reasoning had become narrow. The major clans did not produce capable jōnin merely because they guarded one powerful secret. Their real inheritance lay in everything surrounding that secret—training progressions, failed experiments, diagnostic methods, and answers accumulated over generations. 

The Izuno and Fūma families possessed valuable techniques, yet lacked that depth in unrelated fields. Tonbo had read the memories of enemy shinobi and considered himself an able researcher. Neither advantage gave him an organized foundation he could hand to his children. 

Someday Tenyu and Maki might inherit Living Weave, his genjutsu, or only an interest in neither. If he left behind techniques without the knowledge needed to grow into them, he would merely create another small family dependent upon the appearance of a rare genius. Correcting that would take years of recording and instruction. 

For now, becoming stronger himself came first. However talented his descendants might be, he did not expect them to surpass him. He had little time to arrange his knowledge for anyone else. 

Ayame received him at home with Maki in her arms and displeasure in her eyes. Tonbo’s right arm remained bound across his chest. 

”Are you injuring yourself to avoid caring for the children?” 

”That would be an inefficient plan,” Tonbo said. ”The hospital is less restful than this house.” 

Maki answered with an indignant noise. Tenyu, seated in a woven cradle beside Ayame, struck both hands against its rim and joined her. Their sounds lacked words but not accusation. 

Tonbo touched the bridge of his nose with his left hand. Since returning from Amegakure, he had spent too much of his recovery studying, resuming command, and damaging himself. Ayame had endured his absence for months and had received only fragments of an ordinary marriage before his research claimed him again. 

”Soon,” he promised. ”Once the first stage is complete, I will stop injuring myself.” 

Self-Repair could accelerate his recovery, but it consumed a great deal of physical energy and hastened cell aging. There was no reason to pay that price outside battle. 

He had hoped to develop a technique that created new cells from chakra. He remembered Tsunade taking inspiration from Kabuto’s Yin Healing Wound Destruction and finding a way to use Creation Rebirth without excessive cell division. Tonbo had thought he could do the same. Now he suspected his medical talent fell short even of Sakura’s. He was better than many, but nowhere near the best. 

Ayame shifted Maki against her shoulder. ”You said another assignment begins soon.” 

”Inside Konoha. I am teaching the daimyō’s guards, not leaving the village. It will be closer to office work than a mission.” 

”Then you can still come home with both arms intact.” 

”That is the plan.” 

The twins made another pair of doubtful noises. 

Over the next few days, Tonbo spent more time with the children. With one arm unavailable, he shaped simple creatures through Living Weave and let them carry the twins behind him as he moved through the house. The children grabbed at ears, tails, and wings that bent harmlessly beneath their fingers. He took them to Ichiraku to see Teuchi, visited Tōsei, and on clear afternoons raised them above the rooftops upon a broad woven bird. Konoha spread beneath them while their small hands clutched the supporting feathers. 

Naruto began appearing every few days after learning the location of Tonbo’s home. He arrived eager to see the twins, played until Ayame called for supper, and left looking pleased by the visit and painfully aware that no similar household waited for him. 

The ANBU assigned to watch Naruto could only follow. Had Tonbo not held a senior post and been recognized by Hiruzen as an inheritor of the Will of Fire, they would have suspected designs upon the Nine-Tails. 

Several days later, an injured column approached Konoha’s main gate. 

Asuma walked at its head, cigarette smoke trailing behind him. The sash at his waist marked him as one of the Guardian Twelve. Ten members of the daimyō’s protective service followed, each wearing the same fire-marked armband. Torn clothing, splinted limbs, and stained bandages made it clear that their journey had not been peaceful. 

Izumo looked up from the entry ledger. ”Asuma?” 

Kotetsu was already studying the wounded. ”Send word to the Hokage.” 

A nearby shinobi vanished to carry the report while the gate guards moved forward. 

”It has been a long time,” Izumo said. His attention settled upon the sash. ”You actually joined the Guardian Twelve.” 

”The work is less enviable from inside it.” Asuma offered the group’s travel authorization. His own injuries were shallow, but fatigue showed around his eyes. 

Kotetsu checked the seal and returned the document. ”Who attacked you?” 

”Rogue shinobi.” Asuma glanced back at his people. He still wondered who had sent attackers strong enough to come so close to killing several of his companions, despite the whole guard unit and a member of the Twelve traveling together. 

”Your quarters are prepared,” Kotetsu said, ”but the hospital comes first.” 

Asuma nodded. Whatever reunion awaited him could wait until his people received treatment. 

Hiruzen listened to the gate report from behind his desk. He ordered ANBU to investigate the attack. Only after the messenger departed did the Hokage allow himself a small smile. 

Four years had passed since his son left in anger. Hiruzen intended to see what service beyond Konoha had made of him. 

At Konoha Hospital, one of the wounded guards thanked the medic who finished binding his side. He waited until the room stood empty. Then his pupils shifted, his expression changed, and the thing wearing his face smiled. 

Zetsu had entered Konoha without resistance. 

Tonbo was summoned to the Hokage’s office. Hiruzen studied the sling before speaking. 

”The daimyō’s guards have arrived. Be ready to begin when the hospital releases them.” 

”I have been ready for days,” Tonbo said. ”They will learn why Konoha is trusted to teach genjutsu release. The daimyō should also learn that his military payments were well spent.” 

The subject required no clan secrets. Tonbo had taught genin, academy students, jōnin, and specialists with widely different foundations. Release methods were among the first tools he had built against powerful illusion, long before he possessed techniques capable of threatening the Sharingan himself. 

He could prepare students to identify false sensory input, interrupt their chakra flow, exploit a partner’s assistance, and establish safeguards before exposure. Mangekyō techniques remained less predictable. Tonbo had never tested his defenses against Kotoamatsukami and would not pretend certainty where none existed. 

Hiruzen nodded. ”Watch their conduct. Some come from noble houses and may object to taking instruction from a civilian-born shinobi. If arrogance interferes with the course, demonstrate your qualifications.” 

Tonbo raised an eyebrow. The wording was courteous; the permission beneath it was not. 

”Understood,” he said. 

If the visitors wanted proof before accepting a lesson, he would provide it.