Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

”You do need further study,” Tonbo said. ”None of you could release a fairly simple genjutsu.” 

He relaxed the technique as he approached. The false pressure thinned, the guards recovered control of their limbs, and several staggered when muscles answered faster than expected. Their fear remained. Had Tonbo thrown a handful of shuriken while they stood helpless, the entire formation might have died before its members understood that the lesson had begun. They were not weak. That made the failure more useful. 

Tonbo’s technique borrowed principles from several immobilizing genjutsu without copying any one of them. Demonic Illusion: Shackling Stakes convinced a victim that spikes had pinned the body. Tree Binding Death concealed the caster while a false tree restricted the target. Bringer-of-Darkness maintained a field that replaced sight through continuous chakra. 

His own version spread across an area and interfered with the victim’s interpretation of touch, muscle control, and reaction time. The body remained capable of movement. The brain received a convincing report that every attempt had failed before it began. Like Bringer-of-Darkness, it required continuous output across the affected area. 

Kurenai and Murakumo had broken it sooner than he expected. Still, neither was an ordinary genjutsu user. 

One of the guards opened his mouth, but Asuma stepped between him and Tonbo. 

”You always did enjoy an entrance,” Asuma said. 

”An entrance? This course exists to discover how well your people recognize and release genjutsu. I assessed them.” Tonbo turned his covered gaze toward the formation. ”You remained conscious and capable of thought, yet ordinary release methods failed. That proves the daimyō was correct to send you.” 

The explanation was honest enough to be irritating. Tonbo had reached the field well before the appointed time and concealed himself while the guards complained. Their arrogance gave him both the best moment to appear and a weakness worth demonstrating. 

Kurenai approached with an appreciative smile. ”It has been a while, Tonbo. Your control has improved.” 

”And you have grown even more beautiful.” He tilted his head toward Asuma, whose attention had followed her. ”Would you like me to introduce you to someone?” 

Asuma caught the front of Tonbo’s flak jacket. ”Introduce yourself, you mean?” 

”The daimyō entrusted his safety to someone this impulsive? How have you survived so long?” 

”Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

”Asuma,” Kurenai said, ”Tonbo has a wife and two children.” 

The grip loosened. 

Asuma stared. ”You are married?” 

”Happily. I recommend it.” Tonbo straightened his jacket. ”You would first need to stop being alone, of course.” 

The best part of life here was not fighting wars or defeating Pain. It was having something these familiar people did not, and reminding them of it. Tonbo found that far more satisfying. 

Asuma’s jaw tightened, but the anger had lost its purpose. Relief replaced it so quickly that Tonbo needed no genjutsu to read the result. 

Murakumo laughed. ”Youth is energetic. It is also wasting our morning.” 

”Quite right.” Tonbo looked to the two other instructors. ”You and Kurenai should begin. I will take the final portion. Once the students understand our separate methods, we can combine them.” 

The visiting guards returned to formation without further complaint. Tonbo’s covered face and mild voice now carried more authority than their captain’s threats. 

Zetsu studied him from the rear rank. A terrifying genjutsu specialist. Had Tonbo possessed a Sharingan, Zetsu might have thought his genjutsu surpassed even Madara’s—and this was only a fraction of his ability. 

The course continued for almost a month. 

The three instructors cast genjutsu, explained how to release it, and answered the guards’ questions. Their students had been selected for aptitude in this field. They learned quickly. 

Kurenai’s and Murakumo’s exercises were bearable. Tonbo attacked through sight, sound, and chakra spread through the air. He immobilized the guards, pulled their awareness into genjutsu spaces, controlled them, and hypnotized them. Whatever the method, he found ways to make them experience revolting flavors. Even after release, the remembered taste could make them gag. 

The flavors changed every day. None improved. 

By the second week, even the sight of Tonbo reaching toward his instrument case made several students swallow uneasily. 

Their questions also improved. What if the daimyō himself was controlled? How could guards test him without insulting their lord or revealing suspicion to an enemy? Did they first identify the type of genjutsu, interrupt the caster, isolate the protected person, or call for a specialist? 

The questions covered identification, recognition, release, and ways to prevent an attack. Each kind of genjutsu raised different problems. 

Asuma watched another student retch after escaping another taste illusion. ”Is this necessary?” 

”This is child’s play. I have not used the real forbidden techniques; they could not endure those. They only need to know how to release them.” 

Even released, his genjutsu left people thoroughly miserable. Tonbo was not worried that someone would learn his methods and turn them against him. He taught older versions and kept his newest work to himself. No shinobi willingly revealed every trump card. 

Zetsu listened to every explanation and practiced each release with the borrowed body. He had entered Konoha seeking better counters to genjutsu. The course provided them. It also taught him how much Tonbo had chosen not to reveal.