Chapter 7: I see you, dattebayo
Explaining to Naruko that the reason the village hated her was because one of her idols sealed a literal demon inside her to protect that same village was… an involved process. First, I had to explain how fūinjutsu worked to her so there'd be no misunderstanding the difference between her and her tenant. Surprisingly, that part was easy.
Suspiciously easy.
I smell bullshit. Sorcerer bullshit, to be specific. But that was a problem for later.
After laying out the basics of fūinjutsu, I told her about the seal on her stomach and what it most likely contained. Most people who'd met Naruko would expect an explosive reaction—loud, emotional, irrational. And sure, Naruko could be all of those things. But I'd also learned that when something cut through her facade, when a feeling really touched her, she went silent as the grave.
Like now.
My cup of tea sat on the table between us, long since gone cold. Naruko's eyes were hidden by her bangs as she stared into her glass of mango juice. She did that a lot, I'd noticed—hid her face whenever she felt something other than happiness or annoyance. Like feeling was something to be ashamed of.
No doubt she had learnt that no amount of crying would get her comfort. I didn't like the thought of that so I did something about it.
I stood from my seat across from her and sat down by her side, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her close. It wasn't long before her shoulders began to tremble and her silent tears soaked into my shirt, snot and all. She didn't wail; she just took deep, practiced breaths. The kind that told me she'd been keeping her cries quiet for a long, long time—long enough to have down to process.
I felt my own eyes sting at the thought.
Man, people sucked.
"It's not my fault," she muttered as her breathing calmed.
"No, it's not," I answered.
"They never hated me. It wasn't me they hated. They didn't even see me," she said softly.
I didn't know what to say to that. But I tried anyway.
"They don't know you," I said after some thought.
That got a reaction. She raised her head off my shoulder and looked at me. She flinched when our eyes met, already bracing herself for rejection—for being weak, for being sad.
I took great joy in disappointing her.
I leaned forward and rested my forehead against hers. Naruko's eyes widened at the intimate gesture. I stared into her red-rimmed eyes, willing her to believe every word I was about to say.
"They don't know you," I repeated, firm. "They don't know how brave you are, how kind. How strangely smart you can be. Most of all, they don't know what they're missing out on. Because I know—and I wouldn't want to live in a world where I didn't."
Naruko stared back at me, wide-eyed. Then her face broke into a brilliant smile and our half-hug turned into a full-on embrace as she squeezed the life out of me. It was hard to breathe, but I didn't care.
Abruptly, she let go of me and sprang to her feet. Not even bothering to wipe her face. It did nothing to detract from the newfound determination that gleamed in her eyes.
"You're right! They don't know me! They have no idea how great I am—how great I'm gonna be!" she yelled, hands on her hips. "But I'll show them! I'll show them all! Dattebayo!" she shouted, jumping onto my table.
My smile stretched so wide it hurt.
We met eyes again—me, relaxed and reclined on the floor; her, standing tall above me, the sun's dying rays painting her gold. In that moment, I realized I could spend the rest of my life just like this—leaned back, watching Naruko be great.
Thump!
We both jerked at the sound, yanked out of our little world and back into reality as my neighbor banged on the connecting wall.
"Keep it down, brats! Other people are tryin' to get some fuckin' sleep!" a woman's voice yelled from the other side. My neighbour. I didn't know her name. I didn't even know what she looked like.
I don't think I'd ever seen her so… Shinobi? Most likely.
I stared at the wall that had rattled under her fist.
Yeah. That's a shinobi.
Naruko looked sheepish and climbed down from the table to sit beside me. Her fingers twitched, reaching out hesitantly. I was confused for a moment and then I noticed how her eyes wandered over my arms.
Ah. So that's what that was.
I scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her again, pulling her against me like I did earlier. This time she didn't even pretend to be flustered. Her face split into a smile that hid her eyes as she snuggled up to me, and we just sat there together. Taking comfort in each others' presence.
But eventually, we had to move on. The world wouldn't stop—and neither should we.
"Soooo… you said you have a problem with clones?" I asked. Naruko's smile melted into the cutest pout at the mention of her struggles with the jutsu.
I couldn't help but laugh, which earned me a shove. I shoved her back. She poked me in the stomach, so I tickled her side.
Before long, we were just two rowdy kids play-fighting on the floor.
I don't think I had a happier memory. And I doubted I'd have one for a long while.
We didn't end up working on the Bunshin that day.
Instead, we wasted the afternoon doing stupid kid stuff—telling lame jokes, poking and prodding each other, sprinting around my apartment while screaming our heads off. I think my neighbor gave up at some point and just left. I'd have to apologize for that later.
Regardless, no clone training got done.
We agreed to meet again tomorrow instead. That would also be the day I was supposed to check in with Team 10 and see how Lee was progressing with the seals I'd transcribed for him. Honestly, I was sure it was just an excuse for Guy-sensei to arrange a playdate for his student.
He was a jōnin after all—taijutsu specialist or not, I'd be a fool to think I knew more about jutsu theory than him. There was nothing I could figure out that he couldn't… apart from my little niche in hand seals and fuinjutsu for crafting personalized seals. But at this point, I was confident Lee didn't really need me anymore.
Still, Lee didn't seem to have many friends. Neither did I. So I didn't object.
I was happy to hang out with him. I had even intended to meet up with him today, but Naruko was with me.
She'd been hearing me rave about Lee's strength for weeks and had finally declared, with her usual grin.
"I gotta see what all the hype around Bushy Brows is about."
So after another harrowing day surviving the vultures and harpies who were, ostensibly, my peers, I met up with Naruko and we headed to the training grounds where Team 10 was waiting.
I did my best to ignore the sting of Hidachi still not speaking to me.
That's how I found myself seated in the shade under a broad tree, watching as Lee beat Naruko up and down the field.
Not that Naruko was weak or anything—but I was pretty sure Lee could wipe the floor with any chūnin in a pure taijutsu fight.
Part of me envied his prowess. But it was well-earned.
Unbelievably impressive, how strong he'd gotten without even using chakra enhancement. I could only imagine how much stronger he was going to become now that he could.
I caught myself suppressing the urge to strap on some leg warmers and start running laps around Konoha on my hands.
That kind of strength was tempting, and undeniably worth the hard work…
But no. I was going to be a wizard.
A kung fu wizard—so there was some leeway—but why train to punch harder when I didn't even know a first circle spell yet?
While the fight between Lee and Naruko raged on—Naruko putting up more of a fight than I'd expected—Guy-sensei coached the rest of his team.
By kicking them up and down the field.
I was beginning to see a pattern.
Meanwhile, I sat cross-legged, chewing over a puzzle that continued to elude me.
The Transformation Jutsu.
It still wasn't working properly.
I flexed my chakra exactly as I'd been taught. I mimicked all the right flows. I wrapped the appropriate layer of chakra around my body.
So why was it failing?
I could cast it perfectly with hand signs—but trying to trigger it mentally, without seals? Failure.
I could feel my chakra, almost like muscle memory, trying to snap into the shape of the jutsu I'd practiced… but I kept suppressing it.
If I couldn't consciously command a technique, without hours and hours of rote repetition…
My dream of kung fu wizardry was going to stay just that—a dream.
I fell into a trance, chasing the shape of what I was missing.
A voice snapped me out of it.
"Oi! What're you doin', spacing out like that?" Naruko stood over me, wiping sweat off her forehead.
I blinked, startled. "I'm working on the Transformation Jutsu," I said, brushing dirt off my pants. "Trying to master it without hand signs."
Naruko's face softened. "Ugh, I feel that pain. I had tons of trouble with it at first too. But after enough practice, I got it down. You want me to show you?"
I nodded. Even if I didn't learn anything new, observing how someone like her—someone with her unique chakra condition—handled jutsu might be informative.
I formed the Ram sign. My perception of chakra sharpened. Naruko inhaled, grinned, and flashed through her hand signs.
Except—she didn't actually use the Transformation Jutsu.
I felt the familiar shape of the jutsu begin to form… but it was swept away in a tsunami of her chakra. The delicate structure of the technique was overwhelmed—drowned beneath sheer volume.
Yet somehow, the jutsu didn't fail.
Her chakra, wild and shapeless, simply rolled over her body… and before my eyes, she became a perfect replica of Guy-sensei.
My breath caught. "Do that again."
"Sure!" Naruko beamed. She did it again, faster this time.
I focused harder—and caught it.
It was like what I'd felt when I mastered the Ram sign. The texture of her chakra shifted.
Instead of carefully weaving the jutsu structure and filling it with chakra…
She was somehow altering her chakra's nature itself, embedding the transformation effect directly into it.
It wasn't even the Transformation Jutsu anymore, not technically.
I reached out and touched her shoulder. Solid.
My eyes widened.
I closed my eyes, ran through the hand signs mentally again…
But this time, when I reached Ram, I didn't just stop at making my chakra pliant.
I sharpened my intent.
I bent the nature of my chakra itself, nudging it toward transformation—shaping it the way Naruko had.
It wasn't as smooth, not as refined…
But when I fired off the jutsu and opened my eyes—I was staring down at Naruko's orange jumpsuit.
My own fingers, Naruko's.
Her hands clapped excitedly.
"Hey! Nice! You got it!"
It wasn't solid like hers yet—but it was a start.
I had uncovered a whole new dimension of jutsu control.
I still had a long road ahead of me to reach my dream—but today, I'd taken one step closer.
And that made it a very good day.
Chapter 8: project and proposals
Creating seals to record information was relatively simple. It was essentially just storing data, and fūinjutsu did that best—storing things, I mean. With the ability to store information, the next logical step was manipulating it. That would mean creating fūinjutsu processors, the first step of which would be building circuit boards. And to do that, I would need to start with logic gates.
I watched the diagrams and schematics for my future projects pinned to the walls around me, the symbols dancing across the paper, propelled by the chakra flowing through my fingers.
One big problem, though: the seals were too damn big!
I'd managed to craft an analogue for transistors, but the seal for one transistor was way too large. I could cover an entire wall and barely have a couple hundred bytes of processing power.
Not even enough to run a game of pacman.
The only way to make this work was either to miniaturize the seals significantly or figure out how to store parts of a seal within itself. The latter option seemed like the more feasible one, but I had no real idea how to accomplish it beyond the vague notion that it would require an absurd amount of chakra control.
I hadn't learned fuinjutsu with the intention to make a computer analog, that just seemed to be the way things were progressing. I know having to parse through all the data I got from Lee would have been easier with something to process it.
But those plans were dead in the water, for now.
So, I left that on the back burner for the moment and turned my focus to something I'd been waiting for—a challenge that I now had the tools to tackle: creating my own jutsu.
Naruko's rendition of the transformation jutsu had shown me a whole new dimension of chakra manipulation—character imbuement, attribute manipulation, whatever you wanted to call it. It was the missing puzzle piece, the key to unlocking my own potential in jutsu creation. But I wasn't getting ahead of myself. I was still a beginner, with only a grasp of the basics.
But I was making progress, and Now that I understood the factors that went into making a jutsu, it was time to start creating my own spells.
The first ones I had in mind were the basic spells every aspiring acolyte learned—Magic Missile, Mage Hand, and Mage Armor.
Of the three, Mage Armor had the closest analogue in the form of the Transformation Jutsu. Transformation already formed a shell around the body. I just had to make that shell more durable. Instead of changing its attributes to facilitate transformation, I could alter them to create a chakra-based armor.
I needed to study how each hand sign contributed to the jutsu and how I needed to reconstitute my chakra to make it work. This was going to be an ongoing project, but at least I could start putting together a project board. I pulled out some parchment and ink, pinned it to the wall, and began sketching ideas for hand sign replacements.
That's how I spent my early morning before heading to school.
After my training session, I was off to Konoha's premiere learning institute to begin another day of fruitful edification.
Is what I would have said if they had anything to teach me.
I was painfully ahead in every class except for etiquette and history. Those I paid attention to with laser focus. Thankfully, the teachers for those classes didn't seem to care about my less-than-noble birth, unlike my homeroom teacher.
Mei Tsumigi.
It took a lot for me to hate someone, but despite Mei's consistent pettiness, I was nowhere near hating her. That would require giving her time, attention, and space in my heart and mind. She wasn't worth that, but damn, she was annoying.
Especially when she got into one of her moods, where she decided to humiliate someone lower than her just to feel better. Like today.
Mei—I was not calling that bitch sensei, not even in my head— entered the classroom with all the grace and poise of someone who believed the world should revolve around her. Her high heels clicked sharply against the floor as she glided toward the front, her confident smile flashing at the class. Almost every boy—and a few girls—blushed.
She cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention as she stood in front of the chalkboard.
"Alright, everyone," Mei began, her voice smooth and sweet, like honey dripping from a spoon. "Today we have something special to discuss. A little project to test your creativity, business acumen, and teamwork skills."
She paused, watching as the class buzzed with curiosity, some kids already whispering excitedly among themselves. I could see the tension building—everyone was eager to impress her.
"As of today, you will be working in pairs to create a business pitch. You will design a business concept from scratch and prepare a presentation to the Hokage. The winner—" she paused dramatically, letting her words hang in the air like a weight, "—will have their business sponsored by the village, and retain full ownership."
The class exploded into whispers at that, and kids scrambled to pair up. I could already hear the mutters, the excited chatter, the desperate attempts to find the perfect partner.
Mei looked pleased, watching the chaos unfold. "Remember, this isn't just about a good idea," she added, glancing around the room with an almost predatory gleam in her eye. "It's about selling that idea. Presentation is key. If you can't sell your vision, you're not going to make it."
She paused again, her gaze sweeping across the room, lingering just a little too long on me, as if trying to gauge my reaction.
I just stared back, not giving her the satisfaction of looking intimidated.
"Now, I expect you all to put your best foot forward," Mei said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, "and remember, the Hokage himself will be judging your ideas. So, no slacking off, got it?"
The class nodded, but I could already tell some of the students were too busy eyeing their potential partners to pay much attention.
Mei's eyes flicked toward me for a moment longer, a small, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She didn't say anything, but the look spoke volumes. She knew I'd be the last to be picked.
"You have until the end of class to find your partner," she continued. "Now get to it."
With that, she turned on her heel and made her way back to her desk, the soft swish of her skirt filling the silence left in her wake.
The classroom was a flurry of movement as students rushed to pair up. And, predictably, no one picked me.
I felt isolated. Alone. And pissed that they all looked down on me without even knowing me.
It was not a nice feeling.
Then I saw Hidachi in a corner, staring ahead with a furrowed brow. I had no clue what she was thinking, but I was tired of the silent treatment. I walked up to her desk and stood in front of it.
She looked up, eyes wide.
I did my best to channel my inner "shinobi," drawing on every bit of that detached, aloof attitude I could muster. I didn't expect her to say yes, but at least then I could stop holding out hope that her distance was some kind of misunderstanding.
"We're meeting after school to work on the project," I said flatly.
To my surprise, she nodded, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks, contrasting with her dark makeup and clothes.
"Okay… I guess I'll see you after school," she murmured, voice soft.
I did my best to keep my surprise off my face, nodding casually.
Holy shit, that worked?!
"Cool." I said with an easy shrug.
I turned and walked back to my seat, but as I passed, I caught a glimpse of Mei's face. She looked mildly annoyed. Good. I hoped she choked on it.
Sitting down, I put both feet up on my desk and leaned back just to see how the class would react. A flash of disgust crossed Mei's face, but she quickly hid it, doing her best to ignore me. Many of the stuck-up kids shot me looks of disgust, but I noticed that more than a few of them seemed… interested. Like I was some kind of zoo exhibit. A strange and unknown creature.
That's when it hit me.
This was my in.
They didn't want to accept me as the peasant boy aping nobility. It was clear being nice isn't working. So why not lean into the bad boy shinobi image?
I met up with Hidachi again at the same spot we'd made our deal before—behind the hedges near the school courtyard. Only this time, I had to be the one to drag her there. She followed, face blushing so hard it looked like she might combust, barely able to look at me.
I'm such a dumbass.
Her crush was obvious now. Painfully obvious, in hindsight. Why else would the rebellious goth girl—the one who normally sneered at preppy snobs and didn't give a damn about anything—get all flustered because I put one of those snobs in their place? She'd probably be high-fiving me for it… if she could manage to look me in the eye without going all gooey.
Still, I had to ask. As a matter of courtesy, if nothing else. You know what they say about assuming.
"So… is there a reason you've been avoiding me the past few days?" I asked, gently taking her chin to make eye contact.
It might've been too much.
Her eyes went glassy, her jaw hung open, and her breathing grew a little ragged. I started to pull back, give her space to cool down—but then her hands shot out and grabbed mine in a crushing grip.
"Oh, don't mind all that!" she said with a nervous laugh. "Sorry for being weird, that's just… how I am sometimes. Weird."
She giggled and leaned in.
Now I was the one blushing.
"So there's no reason?" I asked.
She tilted her head thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin as she gazed up at the sky.
"Well…" she began after a moment of silence.
"There is a reason, but—" she paused, and her eyes—those deep, pitch-black orbs—locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a chill through me. Just for a moment… I couldn't explain it, but I felt genuine fear. Like prey under a predator's gaze.
She leaned in until our faces were mere inches apart.
"It's a secret," she whispered.
Then she leaned back and giggled at whatever expression I was making. I'm sure it was priceless—somewhere between arousal and existential terror.
"We'll meet up tomorrow," she said cheerfully. "You'll show me ninja stuff, and we can work on our project!"
She rested her face in her palms, sighing dreamily.
"Bye, Izuku-kun," she added sweetly, then skipped off, leaving me standing there utterly confused.
What… was that?
For a second there, I thought—
Part of me wanted to chalk it all up to a hallucination or a moment of temporary insanity. But the more cautious part—the part that had learned to be wary in a world where magic was real—reminded me that I might have just agreed to spend considerable time with something… not entirely human.
A demon, maybe.
Could be a problem. Or maybe not.
I could be wrong.
Either way—I'd prepare.
A wizard was always prepared.
I straightened my back, cleared my throat, and walked out of the school grounds with purpose.
I had a blonde and a brunette to entertain, after all.
Naruko was waiting for me at the entrance of the Academy, bouncing from one foot to the other, practically buzzing with excitement.
"Izuku!" she exclaimed the moment she saw me. "Guess who?!" She held her arms out to the sides like she was presenting something grand.
It was adorable.
"Hey, Hinata," I said with a smile, which the shy girl hesitantly returned.
I hadn't seen her in a few days—apparently, her family had some kind of gathering after her cousin told them about her new friends. I guess they were happy she was coming out of her shell. Not exactly what I expected from the Hyuuga clan, but who knows what they're like behind closed doors. For all we know, they could be throwing ragers and smoking riffer.
As I got close enough, Naruko rushed forward and wrapped me in a hug. I chuckled and hugged her back, lifting her off the ground and spinning us around.
The gentle smile I caught on Hinata's face when I set Naruko down transformed her entire expression. She gained a quiet, striking beauty that was far more captivating than her usual wallflower demeanor.
I shook myself out of my hormone-induced staring before she noticed.
"I'm heading to see Lee and Gai-sensei. Wanna come?" I asked.
"Do I?!" Naruko shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Ano... will Neji-nii-san be there?" Hinata asked, pressing her fingers together nervously.
It was clear that this Neji guy made her uncomfortable, and I didn't blame her. With all his glaring and polite vitriol, even I'd be uneasy. If I were an eleven-year-old princess, he'd probably terrify me.
Or I'd order his execution.
I wasn't a princess, so I guess we'll never know.
"Izuku?" Hinata's voice pulled me out of my fantasy of enacting capital punishment on edgy preteens.
"Probably," I replied. "They're a team."
Hinata seemed to shrink into herself at that.
"Don't worry, Hinata! If he talks trash, I'll just kick him in the nuts!" Naruko said far too cheerfully.
I mean, having him executed is one thing—but kicking him in the nuts? Let's have some decency.
Hinata seemed to share my sentiment, judging by how pale she turned.
I shook my head and gave Naruko a light karate chop.
"Bad Naruko, bad. No nut-kicking our friends' family members," I said, mock-stern.
"Not even when they're a dick?" she pouted, rubbing her head. The drama queen—I was sure she barely felt that.
I paused to consider.
"You make a valid point," I admitted with a sage nod.
Hinata sighed in fond exasperation, and I had to suppress a grin. It seemed our little comedy routine had calmed her nerves. A glance at Naruko showed she was trying—and failing—to hide her conspiratorial smile.
Mood suitably set, I led our party toward the grounds where Team Gai usually trained. They should've finished their missions by now and started their evening practice.
We arrived to find Lee and Neji sparring. Lee wasn't doing so well.
As much as I disliked Neji's attitude, I had to admit—he really was a prodigy.
Gai greeted me the only way he knew how—like a thunderclap wrapped in spandex.
"Izuku-kun!" he boomed, appearing in a blur and striking a heroic pose. "I can feel your flames of youth from across the training field!"
Tenten followed at a more sedate pace and gave a more subdued wave. "Hey, Izuku. Good to see you again."
Naruko grinned and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Yo! Bushy Brow Sensei!"
Rather than take offense, Guy clapped his hands together, eyes sparkling. "A title of honor! I shall bear it with pride!"
Hinata bowed slightly. "Good afternoon, Gai-sensei."
Guy placed a hand over his heart, deeply moved. "So polite… truly a blossom of springtime grace!"
My eyes turned to the sparring match between Lee and Neji. Lee was quick—faster than I remembered. His strikes were sharper, his footwork tighter.
"Lee's gotten better," I said, watching closely. "Faster, too."
Guy beamed, clearly bursting with pride. "Yes! He pushes himself every day, burning with youthful determination! And you—Izuku—you were the one who sparked that flame! Your guidance meant everything to him!"
"He is welcome to it" I scratched the back of my neck, trying not to be overly humble and get all flustered but only halfway succeeding.
"Wonderfulwonderful! For such selflessness, you have my gratitude as well, young Izuku" Guy said, placing a hand firmly on my shoulder. Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he added, "Which is why you must not hesitate if you ever need help."
Really?
I opened my mouth to say something but paused.
Guy's eyes narrowed. "Did you just hesitate? After I explicitly told you not to?"
I blinked. "I mean… I was just thinking—"
"Don't look down on my youth, Izuku!"
I stared at him. "What does that even mean—?"
"Means if you need help, say it!" he demanded, grinning wide now.
I sighed. "Okay, fine. I could use some help with my taijutsu. I don't really need it in my day to day life, but I enjoy training. I would be grateful for any advice from a master like you."
Guy's face lit up like a sunrise. "Such unwavering commitment to self improvement! What else can I do but answer in kind!"
He turned to the sparring duo. "Lee! Neji! Cease your match!"
Lee skidded to a halt and ran over, practically vibrating with energy. "Sensei?"
"Izuku here seeks guidance! We shall assess his form!"
Lee turned to me, eyes wide. "You want to spar?! That's amazing! I'll do my best!"
Neji scoffed. "This will be brief."
I gave Guy a look. "You're sure this is necessary?" I asked, watching as Lee begin a set of stretches warming up for our spar even though he should still be limber from his fight with Neji.
I tried not to gulp in trepidation as his muscle flexed through his shirt.
"Absolutely," Guy said. "It's not about victory. Show me what you've got, and I'll know how to guide you."
Naruko grinned. "Give 'em hell, Izuku!"
Hinata looked between us nervously. "Please be careful…"
I stepped onto the field, drawing a slow breath. Lee took his stance opposite mine.
"I believe in you, Izuku!" he called.
I gave him a respectful nod. "Thanks. Let's keep it clean."
I wasn't physically built like most shinobi. But I had chakra control, and I'd made it my weapon.
Lee moved first—too fast to track. A blur of motion, and he was suddenly in front of me with a punch coming straight for my ribs. But I was already gone.
A blur of my own. My chakra-enhanced sidestep shot me to the side, no muscle—just push.
The leaf sticking exercise was very educational.
It taught that chakra—expelled just right—could create push or pull, depending on how much you are releasing. I'd trained for weeks on those two forces, perfecting how they gave me leverage, how they could hold me fast to a tree or send bark splintering.
Not to mention the benefits of perfect leverage from any position regardless of my centre of gravity. I could stick to the ground, twist from any position, move in ways no muscle could allow.
Lee didn't even pause, instantly adapting to my blurring speed. Able to match my chakra enhanced lunges with sheer physicality.
I couldn't keep up physically—heck, I couldn't even keep up with myself. I was using chakra to throw myself out of Lee's range whenever he got to close. . I wasn't reacting to his movements. I was predicting, then committing.
As the superior fighter, Lee adapted quickly. His instincts were too good. He began cutting off my bursts, intercepting me mid-move.
Eventually he had me cornered.
The moment came. Lee snapped a roundhouse toward my head—fast, clean, brutal. I couldn't block it, not head on, not without breaking something.
So I parried, swinging my forearm into his leg with chakra pulsing out of my tenketsu, generating force to cancel the impact. The shock displaced air and left my arm numb, but it worked.
Then he came again, and again, and again.
He was relentless, but I kept meeting every blow.
I was slipping into a flow. I couldn't think—only act. I wasn't fast enough to see him coming. I could only react to the split second before the blow landed. It was like I was dancing for my life.
But if I wanted to win—I had to break that rhythm.
And I wanted to win. Regardless of how unlikely my victory was, I wanted to at least try.
I'd been working on a new jutsu that morning: Mage Armor. I hadn't perfected it yet—I wasn't even close. I'd worked out the hand seals, but the visualization—the chakra shaping—wasn't there yet.
Now, under pressure, it clicked.
The way my chakra pushed up against Lee's strikes. The way it negated his force. Defended me, protected me. It was starting to fall into place.
I ran the seals in my mind. Failed.
My hands creaked under the force of Lee's blows.
Did it again. Still not right.
One more time—and suddenly, I felt it: my chakra thickened, reshaped. It layered across my arm like flowing stone. Only enough for my hand—but that was enough.
Lee lunged with a rising kick.
I caught his leg. Not parried—caught.
His eyes widened in shock. I hadn't shown that kind of strength or resilience.
Because it wasn't mine. It was the armour.
For a split second, he was airborne, unbalanced—completely open.
I didn't let that opening go.
I drove chakra into my right fist, pushed my control to the absolute limit, and launched a straight punch at his gut with everything I had.
My entire body moved in harmony, breath and chakra synchronized into unstoppable momentum. The exhilaration of casting my first successful spell and the burning desire to win surged through me, fueling a battle frenzy that culminated in a strike carrying the full force of my will.
A blow intended for Lee.
But just before I could land it—a hand caught mine.
Stopping my fist cold, then….
The world exploded.
The ground cracked, turf ripped, and Lee was thrown backward by the shockwave.
Standing in his place, holding my fist in a palm that felt as hard as steel, was Might Guy.
His expression was deadly serious.
"…Uh," I said, breathing hard.
Guy slowly released my hand, still staring.
"...it seems young Izuku, that there is someone you need to meet," he said quietly, his usual genial expression nowhere in sight.
Chapter 9: Cryptic Gods
Sarutobi Hiruzen—the Third Hokage, the God of Shinobi, Commander-in-Chief of Konoha's military, and the man who trained the legendary Sannin. A survivor—and arguably the victor—of not one, not two, but three world wars. A man who could only be described as the GOAT: the Greatest of All Time.
And now, I was standing before him.
Terrified.
I admired him deeply, but I feared him just as much—not because of his immense strength, but because of his office and everything it represented. Among those responsibilities was maintaining the strength and security of Konoha's military. I had always assumed I was far beneath his notice, but the very fact that I was here told me otherwise.
It meant I wasn't beneath notice at all.
It meant I was worthy of his attention. A potential asset.
Was I about to be conscripted?
"Guy?" Hiruzen asked.
"Izuku used a technique today," Guy began. "I've never seen it before—never even heard of anything like it. I assume it's self-created."
The Hokage leaned back in his chair, and the room fell into a contemplative silence.
"Izuku-kun," Hiruzen said as he leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "The technique you used—did you create it?"
"Yes, Hokage-sama," I replied. There was no point in lying. I doubted I could deceive the Fire Shadow himself even if I tried.
"I see," he said thoughtfully. "Do you understand how this might pose a problem, Izuku-kun?"
"Hokage-sama…" I faltered, scrambling for something to say—anything to avoid a forced enlistment into the military.
"The creation of jutsu is a dangerous discipline," he continued. "Far more dangerous than the early stages of fuinjutsu. You could have died."
I blinked at the genuine concern in his voice. Then again, he was a shinobi—he could have been faking it.
"I was very cautious, Hokage-sama, and made sufficient preparations," I replied respectfully.
"Oh? Such as?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"I memorized the effects of each hand seal by monitoring my chakra carefully. Then I practiced until I could execute them without the physical gestures. This gave me an…. Intuition for what would work and what wouldn't"
I hadn't planned on revealing that, not yet—but I assumed I wasn't the first to try it. The brief flash of astonishment on the Hokage's face said otherwise.
"To master the individual seals themselves… how novel," he murmured, letting out a soft chuckle.
"That's unique?" I asked, not bothering to hide my skepticism. "I assumed every skilled ninja would do the same."
"Perhaps unintentionally," he said. "As a side effect of mastering many jutsu. But to deliberately master each individual hand seal? That's completely unintuitive. It runs contrary to what most ninja strive for—getting a jutsu off as fast as possible, by speeding through hand signs with maximum efficiency. Your approach—slowing down, deconstructing the jutsu, mastering its components—that's the opposite of what we're taught."
He took a puff of his pipe, then continued.
"Brilliant."
I… I was speechless. A blush crept up my cheeks.
"Hokage-sama," I said after composing myself, "I just did the best I could with what I had."
"Indeed," he replied with a smile—one that quickly faded. "But there are repercussions."
I swallowed hard.
"Am I being conscripted?" I asked.
"No," he said. "Not right now. But if you continue progressing at this rate, I will have little choice."
Of course he wouldn't have a choice. I didn't doubt the Third's power as the undisputed leader of the village, but even from that position, there was only so much he could do if his entire administrative body pushed for something. Denying them would risk appearing tyrannical—which might be acceptable in other villages, but not in Konoha. Especially not now, with the blood purge in Kiri making Konoha's clans more than a little uneasy.
The funny thing was, most of those advocates wouldn't even see it as conscription. They'd see it as placing a young man where he was "supposed" to be—where his talents could serve Konoha best.
Forcing me into a life of murder and espionage.
With the best intentions of course.
I wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.
"There must be a solution, Hokage-sama," Guy said, surprising me. I knew he'd grown fond of me over the time I'd spent with his team, but I hadn't expected him to speak for me in front of the Hokage.
Even if it changed nothing, I was deeply grateful.
The Hokage leaned back in his chair.
"There is a possible solution," he said, then reached for a pen and began writing. When he finished, he held out the paper—and it vanished from his palm.
I blinked.
Some kind of jutsu?
Moments later, an ANBU appeared at his side—seemingly from thin air—and offered him a sheath of papers before disappearing just as suddenly. Sheesh. I knew I was weak compared to actual ninja, but not even being able to see them?
My musings were interrupted as the Hokage placed the freshly delivered papers in front of me. He gave me a reassuring, grandfatherly smile and a slight nod.
I glanced down.
My eyes widened as I read the contents.
After reading it again—and then a third time to be sure—I slowly set the papers down and looked up to meet the amused, knowing gaze of the God of Shinobi.
It was a contract.
It offered me something called proxy status. In effect, I would receive a great number of privileges in exchange for granting Konoha the right of first refusal on any jutsu I created, as well as the ability to classify those jutsu as confidential. Naturally, there was a clause allowing me to share my creations with a future spouse or children—got to keep the clans happy, even here.
In return, I would gain access to resources, and security from the village, all scaled according to my contributions and how valuable I was deemed to be. It was a sweet deal.
But I didn't understand how this would protect me.
"I'm grateful to be considered for such a prestigious position, Hokage-sama," I said, frowning slightly. "But how exactly does this prevent conscription?"
"The proxy position was created by Hashirama-sama," the Hokage began, "to maintain political ties with external organizations—financial firms, artisan guilds, and others who, for one reason or another, had no interest in coming under Konoha's authority. It allowed for formal relations without binding their fates to the rise or fall of the village."
He paused, then continued with measured calm.
"The bylaws governing the treatment of proxies were written specifically to avoid political entanglements. By design, a Proxy cannot hold any official rank within Konoha's military. Signing this contract will legally bar you from joining the shinobi forces."
My eyes widened. At that point, I was already sold.
But Lord Third wasn't finished.
"You will also be entitled to compensation proportionate to your contributions, a permanent shinobi escort, and favorable trade agreements with village suppliers."
"This…" I whispered, stunned. "Lord Hokage… it's generous."
Far more generous than I expected—more than I'd even hoped for. I would have been grateful just for protection from political entanglements. But this? Complete separation from Konoha's military infrastructure, plus privileged treatment?
It was almost too much.
And yet, if I wanted to continue as I had—if I wanted to pursue my goals without interference—I couldn't refuse. I could only accept it with sincere gratitude and a determination to repay the kindness shown to me.
Still, part of me couldn't help but wonder if that was the true play: to bind me in unseen chains of reciprocity, ensuring my loyalty without the need for force. It was clever. Subtle.
But for that kind of ploy to work, the Hokage would need to understand me well—intimately well.
Was his intelligence network truly so capable?
Or was I just that easy to read?
By the God of Shinobi?
I looked into his ancient eyes—grandfatherly, kind, but sharp with layers of calculation. Calculation I could only perceive because he allowed me to.
There was no doubt in my mind that this was the game—and that he had revealed just enough of it to me on purpose. Not as a threat, but as a gesture of transparency.
My gratitude deepened once more.
I bowed where I sat.
"Thank you, Hokage-sama."
Lord Third accepted my thanks with a nod, acknowledging it in the spirit it was given.
"Now, onto the matter of your shinobi escort," he said with a smile—but said nothing further.
As the silence stretched, his smile gradually became strained, brittle even, until he finally turned and glared at the seemingly empty space to his right. A moment later, that space was no longer empty.
Standing there was an ANBU operative, wearing a dog-painted mask and sporting gravity-defying silver hair. He stood at attention beside Lord Third, seemingly oblivious to the Hokage's growing annoyance.
"This," Lord Third began with a sigh, "is Dog."
He gestured toward the masked figure with something between resignation and exasperation.
"He will be your ANBU escort."
My eyes widened in shock.
"Hokage-sama, this is too much," I said.
ANBU were the elite of the elite. Assigning one as my personal guard—especially when I wasn't even leaving the village—was complete overkill.
"I have faith in your ability to live up to my expectations," he said with a smile. "Besides, this decision serves multiple purposes. Dog will be taking on a genin team soon, and he could use the experience of interacting with younger shinobi."
I tried to suppress my reaction to being called a shinobi, but judging by the twinkle in Lord Third's eye, I failed.
"He will also be giving you an education in jutsu—its theory and application. The more you know, the more jutsu you can create to enrich the village."
I doubted I'd be taught anything truly classified, but even access to standard shinobi techniques could accelerate my development by years.
"Thank you, Hokage-sama," I said, bowing once more.
Then, as if perfectly timed—though for all I knew, it was—Naruko came hurtling through the window.
"Jiji! Izuku is innocent!" she shouted, landing in a dramatic superhero pose before rushing to stand between me and Lord Third, who raised an amused brow.
"Izuku-kun is not in trouble, Naruko-chan. Quite the opposite, in fact," he said with a chuckle.
"Really?" she asked skeptically.
"Really," he confirmed.
She didn't look convinced.
"Is this like the fox thing? Are you keeping more stuff from me, Jiji?" she asked, sounding genuinely upset as she glared at the commander-in-chief of the most powerful village in the world. Miraculously, the old man wilted under her gaze.
I, on the other hand, was still trying to process the fact that Naruko's so-called Jiji was the actual freakin' Hokage.
Lord Hiruzen had me wait outside while he spoke with Naruko alone. A private, heart-to-heart conversation, he'd said. I tried to keep an open mind, but the pieces I was putting together in my head didn't paint a pleasant picture.
A child sealed with a living natural disaster. Isolated from the rest of the village. Kept in the dark, by law, about the reason for that isolation. And one of the only people she seemed to admire—maybe even love—just so happened to be the military dictator of the very village that shunned her.
It was… convenient.
Too convenient.
Raise the container with affection. Make her love the village that fears her. Ensure her loyalty before she ever learns the truth. Then recruit her into the very machine that created her suffering.
It was bleak. A disturbing picture of a system far more calculated—and colder—than I had expected.
I told myself I was being paranoid.
But it made too much sense.
Naruko's chakra reserves were absurd. Some of it could be a kekkei genkai, maybe. But more likely, it was the fox. The Nine-Tailed Fox. Sealed tight, but still there. How powerful could she become if she ever accessed it?
A living weapon. A military asset.
"That's quite an intense look, ne?"
A voice broke me out of my spiral, and I flinched. Dog stood beside me, relaxed and unreadable beneath the porcelain mask. His posture was loose, almost lazy, despite the flawless ANBU uniform.
I shot him a glare, but before I could respond, another voice cut in.
"Dog-san! Izuku-kun is a boy of deep thought and intense reasoning!" boomed Guy, appearing suddenly at my side like some kind of loud, green ghost. I had almost forgotten he was there."Traits that will serve him well under your tutelage!"
He grinned at me, all gleaming teeth and sincerity.
Dog didn't even blink. He pulled out a bright orange book and started flipping through it casually.
I recognized that cover. I had seen it at some of the bookstores I frequent.
It was smut.
He was reading smut.
On duty.
In front of the Hokage's office.
Guy slumped with a theatrical sigh, staring at Dog like he was the pinnacle of cool.
"So hip… so effortlessly aloof…" he whispered in awe.
I looked at both of them, feeling my brain begin to fray at the edges. Was psychosis a prerequisite to becoming an effective ninja?
The office door creaked open.
Naruko stepped out alone.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she was smiling. Wide. Genuinely happy.
I exhaled in relief. Though a part of me couldn't help but wonder…..
Was Naruko being manipulated towards some nefarious purpose?