The moon hung outside my window like a drunk trying to find his keys, casting pale silver light across the kitchen table where I'd spread out the Kage Bunshin scroll. A single candle flickered beside me, adding just enough warm glow to read the cramped handwriting without squinting myself blind.
Kushina had passed out about an hour ago, her head pillowed on her arms right next to her fuinjutsu materials. I'd draped my jacket over her shoulders like a blanket, and every few minutes she'd make these tiny sleep sounds that were way too adorable for someone who could probably punch through solid rock when she was awake.
I turned back to the scroll, scanning the technical details. The first thing that jumped out at me was how different this was from regular clone jutsu. Normal clones were just illusions, smoke and mirrors designed to confuse your opponent for a few seconds. But this was different. According to the scroll, shadow clones were actual bodies made of chakra, somehow transformed into something that could mimic flesh and matter.
Shape transformation, also known as Keitai Henka, was apparently the key to the whole thing.
I'd heard the term before, but seeing it written out like this made it sound way more complicated than just "make your chakra look like stuff." The scroll went on to explain that it was an advanced form of chakra control, something about controlling the form, movement, and potency of your chakra to determine the size, range, and purpose of a technique.
I kept reading, trying to wrap my head around the mechanics. Apparently, the chakra somehow "hardened" into a stable form that could mimic the user's physical structure down to cellular details. The clones could bleed, sweat, and physically interact with the environment as if they were actual living bodies.
"Cellular details," I whispered, staring at the scroll. "It's not just making a copy, it's making a perfect biological replica using nothing but chakra."
That was... actually terrifying when you thought about it. The level of control required to replicate every cell, every organ, every tiny detail that made a human body function? No wonder this was classified as a forbidden jutsu.
And no wonder it required massive chakra reserves.
I glanced at Kushina again, remembering our conversation about her "absurdly large chakra reserves." Yeah, she'd probably love this jutsu. Probably create an army of herself just to get her chores done faster.
The thought of multiple Kushinas running around made me smile. The village probably couldn't handle one of her, let alone ten.
I turned back to the scroll, looking over the hand seal sequence. Just one seal, a simple cross with both hands. Hell, it was easier than half the Academy jutsu I'd learned.
The scroll had basic step-by-step instructions that were pretty straightforward, form the seal, split your chakra evenly, push it into the jutsu framework. Simple enough that you could probably brute-force it without really understanding what was going on.
'If Naruto can eventually pull this off, he's basically just running the Second Hokage's program,' I thought. The guy had already figured out all the impossible stuff, how to make chakra turn into actual living tissue. All you had to do was dump enough chakra into it and not screw up the trigger.
But being me, I couldn't help trying to reverse-engineer what was actually happening. The scroll only gave basic instructions, form the seal, split your chakra, push it into the framework. But there had to be underlying principles at work. Shape transformation theory maybe?
Naruto could eventually brute-force his way through the basic instructions with raw chakra reserves. But if I could figure out the technical framework behind it? That would let me modify the jutsu, optimize it, maybe even create my own variations.
Like knowing how to use a phone versus actually knowing how to build one. Except I was trying to reverse-engineer it just by watching it work.
But whatever. That was a problem for later. Right now I had other stuff to deal with.
I set the scroll down carefully, making sure not to disturb any of Kushina's materials. Her brushes were arranged in perfect order, and there were neat little piles of paper covered in her attempts at the storage seal modifications.
Standing up slowly, I moved to the center of the room where I'd have space to work. The hand seal was simple enough, just crossing my fingers in front of me.
I took a breath and pushed chakra into the jutsu, trusting the Second Hokage's framework to handle all the impossibly complex stuff. It was like running a program someone else had written, I didn't need to understand how chakra transformed into living matter, I just needed to provide the chakra and let the jutsu do its thing.
The chakra flowed through the jutsu, shaped itself into something recognizable through whatever brilliant mechanisms Tobirama had built into it, and suddenly there were two of me standing in my kitchen.
"Well, shit," I said.
"Yeah," my clone said, looking down at his hands. "That actually worked."
We stared at each other for a moment. It was like looking in a mirror, except the reflection was scratching its head on its own.
"So... you're me," I said.
"Yep. And you're—yeah, you're also me." He paused, frowning a little. "This is really weird."
"Super weird. Do you remember everything I remember?"
"Up until you made me, yeah. After that..." He shrugged. "I guess I'm thinking my own thoughts now."
I walked around him, checking him out from different angles. "You look exactly the same. Even got the stupid cowlick in the back."
"Hey, our hair's not that bad."
"I mean, it's fine. Just saying."
The clone glanced toward the table where Kushina was still sleeping. "Should we wake her up? Show her it worked?"
"Nah, let her sleep." I shook my head. "Besides, I think two of me might be a bit much for her to deal with right now."
"Yeah, probably. She'd make some crack about there being twice as much ego in the room or something."
I snorted. "She definitely would."
My clone wandered over to the window, peering out at the moonlit street like he was getting used to having his own perspective on things.
"So... what now?" he asked after a moment.
"Now we experiment, I guess."
I had him sit down at the table while I grabbed a spare kunai from my gear pouch. The clone watched me with interest that felt both familiar and strange.
"Wait, you're not seriously going to stab me, are you?"
"Just a little," I said. "For science."
"I really don't like this plan."
"Yeah, me neither. But we need to test how this works, right?"
I made a small cut on the clone's arm, just deep enough to draw blood. He winced and let out a curse under his breath.
"Okay, that's... unsettling."
The cut bled real blood. It looked real, felt real, and when the clone touched it, he came away with red on his fingers.
"So the scroll wasn't kidding about that whole cellular detail thing," he said, examining the blood on his hand. "This is actual hemoglobin."
"Or a damn good simulation," I said.
I was about to test something else when Kushina shifted in her chair, making a sleepy sound. My clone suddenly went poof and turned into a scroll that clattered onto the table.
I stared at the scroll for a second. "What the hell was that?"
Kushina lifted her head, blinking sleepily at me. "Shinji? What time is it? Did something just fall?"
"It's pretty late," I said, still looking at the scroll. "And yeah, I just... knocked something over."
"Mmm." She rubbed her eyes, and my jacket slipped off one shoulder. "Were you talking to someone? I thought I heard voices."
"Just talking to myself," I said, which was technically true. "You know how I get when I'm working on this stuff."
"You're so weird," she mumbled, but there was a half-smile on her face. "Did you figure out the clone thing yet?"
I glanced at the scroll, which somehow managed to look smug despite being an inanimate object. "Yeah, actually. Got it working."
"Really? That's great!" She stretched, then seemed to realize how late it actually was. "I should probably head home, but..." She yawned widely. "You know what? I'm exhausted, and it's the middle of the night anyway. Do you mind if I crash here? I can take the couch or whatever."
"You can have the bed," I said. "I'll take the couch."
"Are you sure? I don't want to impose."
"It's fine. Besides, you promised to help with the seal work, remember?"
"Mmm, right. The explosive clone research." She stood up, swaying slightly from tiredness. "That's gonna be fun."
I got her settled in the bedroom, and when I returned to the kitchen, my clone had transformed back and was sitting at the table like nothing had happened.
"Okay," I said. "So what was that about?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Felt like it, I guess."
"You felt like it," I repeated. "You just randomly decided to turn into a scroll."
"Hey, you're the one who made me. Blame your own weird brain for this."
I sat down across from him, suddenly aware of how surreal this whole thing was. Having a conversation with myself about my own motivations was definitely going on the list of things I never thought I'd be doing.
"Yeah, okay, whatever." I leaned back in my chair. "Let's get back to it. How much damage do you think you can take before you dispel?"
"I mean, there's only one way to find out."
What followed was probably the weirdest twenty minutes of my life. We tested the clone's durability with increasingly creative methods, punches, cuts, blunt force trauma from falling off chairs.
The clone could take a surprising amount of punishment, but there were definite limits. A solid punch to the gut made him wheeze but didn't dispel him. A kunai thrust to the shoulder made him curse colorfully but kept him standing.
It was when I accidentally put a little too much force behind a punch to his gut that finally did him in. He flew back a couple feet, still airborne, when—poof. Smoke.
The memories hit me like a freight train.
Everything the clone had experienced flooded back in vivid detail. The memory of pain from the cuts I'd given him. The weird disorientation of being a copy. The way Kushina's fuinjutsu notes had looked from his perspective.
But more importantly, and more alarmingly, I could feel exactly how much chakra I'd lost the moment I created him.
"Well," I said to my empty kitchen, "that's a problem."
The Kage Bunshin was incredibly powerful, but it was also incredibly wasteful. In a real fight, you'd burn through your chakra reserves just making the clones, never mind what happened when they got taken out.
I picked up the scroll again, scanning for any mention of chakra conservation. Maybe there was a way to create clones with smaller chakra investments.
But this scroll only contained the basic user instructions, how to trigger the Second Hokage's jutsu, not the underlying framework he'd built. It was like having a user manual for a computer without access to the source code.
The real research notes are probably locked away somewhere I'll never get access to,' I thought. No way Hiruzen's handing over classified jutsu development materials to a genin, even if I did get this as a mission reward.
I'd have to experiment on my own, try to reverse-engineer what the Second Hokage had built.
I spent the next few hours doing exactly that, poking at the jutsu's framework, trying to understand how Tobirama had structured the chakra transformation process. It was like trying to debug someone else's code without comments or documentation. I'd make tiny modifications to how I channeled chakra into the jutsu, looking for variables I could adjust, then watch as my attempts either failed completely or produced horrifying malformed clones that dispelled immediately.
Most of my notes were just frustrated scribbles about how the jutsu seemed to resist any modifications. The candle burned lower as I worked, casting shifting shadows across pages of increasingly illegible theories about chakra compression ratios and structural integrity thresholds.
By the time exhaustion finally caught up with me, the eastern horizon was starting to lighten.
I must have dozed off at the table, because the next thing I knew, I was jerking awake to the sound of movement from my bedroom. My hand was already reaching for a kunai before my brain caught up.
Just Kushina getting up.
I quickly gathered the scattered scrolls and notes from the table, shoving them onto a nearby bookshelf between some cooking manuals and sake guides.
A few minutes later, she appeared in the kitchen doorway, hair sticking up at odd angles and eyes still heavy with sleep.
"Morning," she mumbled, rubbing her face. Then she squinted at me. "Ugh, you look terrible."
"Yeah, thanks for that." I stretched, feeling my neck crack. "Want some coffee?"
"God, yes please."
I moved to the stove, going through the familiar motions of grinding beans and heating water. The routine was oddly comforting after a night of experimental jutsu work.
"Did you sleep okay?" I asked while measuring out the grounds.
"Better than I have in weeks, actually. Your bed's way more comfortable than mine." She stretched and yawned. "What time is it anyway?"
"Pretty early. Sun's barely up." I poured hot water over the grounds, watching them bloom. "And yeah, I maybe splurged a little on the mattress. I figured life's too short to sleep on something that feels like a wooden board, you know?"
She snorted. "Is that why half the Academy thinks you're secretly rich? Because you actually buy things like decent bedding?"
"Hey, I like being comfortable. Sue me." I shrugged. "I mean, call me crazy, but I think sleep should actually involve rest, not some kind of endurance training."
She laughed a little at that. "Fair enough."
I took a sip of my coffee. "So you don't have to be anywhere today, right?"
"Not until this afternoon. Grandma Mito's got me scheduled for more seal practice, but that's not for a while yet." She slumped into a chair at the table. "What about you? When do you have to leave for your mission?"
"Couple hours." I handed her a steaming cup. "So we've got time."
"Thanks." She wrapped her hands around the mug, inhaling the steam with a contented sigh.
I leaned against the counter with my own coffee. "So what's been going on around the village? I've been on mission for over a week, feels like I'm kind of out of the loop."
"Honestly? Not that much. Everyone's a little on edge about the war, but it's not like Suna's actually knocking on our gates or anything."
"Yeah, makes sense." I nodded. "Has anything actually changed, or are people just being nervous?"
"Mostly just nervous, I think. There might be more patrols or something, but nothing too dramatic." She took a careful sip of her coffee. "Oh, we did get a new neighbor though. Some girl named Fuwa moved into the Senju compound a few houses down from Grandma Mito's place."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is she Senju or Uzumaki?"
Kushina scrunched up her face, thinking about it. "Well, I have no idea if she's actually Senju, but she's definitely not Uzumaki. Trust me, I'd know that."
"Huh. That's kind of weird though, right? I mean, a random civilian getting housing in the Senju compound?"
"Right? I thought so too." She shrugged. "I don't know, maybe she's some distant cousin or something. The Senju family tree's pretty big."
"Yeah, I've noticed that about them," I said, taking another sip. "Unlike some of the other clans, they seem pretty relaxed about the whole intermarriage thing. The Uchiha like to keep it in the family, but the Senju will marry basically whoever they want."
"True. Grandma Mito's always saying the clan's strength comes from diversity, not purity." Kushina tilted her head thoughtfully. "Why, do you think that's a problem or something?"
"I mean, not a problem exactly, just... a bit different, I guess." I leaned back against the counter. "Spreading the bloodline around like that means more people with Senju traits, but it also means those traits get diluted over time. Eventually you might end up with hundreds of distant cousins who have maybe a tiny bit of Senju chakra, but no real connection to the clan anymore. At some point, does the clan even exist?"
"Huh." She frowned slightly. "Do you think they could actually die out that way? By spreading too thin?"
"Maybe. It's kind of like..." I gestured vaguely with my coffee cup, trying to think of how to explain it. "If you pour a bucket of water into a lake, the water's still there somewhere, but good luck actually finding it again."
"That's kind of depressing when you put it that way," she said. "Though I guess it depends on whether you care more about the name or the legacy, right?"
"Yeah, that's true. Maybe having your influence spread everywhere is better than keeping it all concentrated in one small group."
"Maybe." She stretched, looking more awake now. "So, are we doing that cooking lesson? I've been thinking about it all week."
I set down my coffee cup. "Yeah, definitely. I was thinking we could start with dashimaki tamago. It's basically a rolled omelet, but a bit fancier than regular scrambled eggs."
"That sounds complicated."
"Nah, it's not that bad. Just requires a bit of technique. It's good for building confidence without too much risk of setting things on fire." I moved toward the pantry. "Plus, if you mess it up, we can still eat the evidence."
"Very reassuring," she said, but she was already rolling up her sleeves. "Oh, before I forget, I finished working on your glove."
"Really? What did you end up changing?"
"Here, try it on. See those smaller marks around the main seal? I made each one a separate compartment now."
I looked down at my glove, noticing for the first time that there were several smaller seal marks arranged around the central design.
"Just focus a bit of chakra on whichever mark corresponds to what you want," she continued. "I put your spare kunai in the top left one."
I pressed my thumb lightly against the mark she indicated and channeled a small pulse of chakra. Only the kunai appeared in my palm.
"Holy shit, that actually works."
"Of course it works. I know what I'm doing." She looked a little pleased with herself. "Each compartment's got limited space though, maybe enough for a few kunai or some shuriken, but you're not fitting a whole weapon rack in there or anything."
"This is really useful though." I tested another mark, retrieving a single shuriken. "How many compartments did you make?"
"Six total. Should be enough for organizing your basic gear, at least." She picked up one of the eggs, examining it like she was planning its demise. "It took me forever to get the seal matrix right, but the theory was sound enough."
"You're a genius, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know." She cracked the egg with way too much force, sending shell fragments everywhere. "Oops."
"Uh-huh. Real genius-level egg work there."
She shot me a look. "Shut up."
"Alright, alright." I stepped closer, still grinning. "See, the trick is, you crack them gently, not like you're breaking into an enemy compound."
"They feel like enemies though. They always break weird when I try to do it."
"Here, watch." I demonstrated with another egg, tapping it gently on the counter edge. "You just need enough force to crack the shell, then use your thumbs to open it cleanly. See?"
She tried again, more carefully this time. It was better, though she still managed to get a piece of shell in the bowl.
"That's closer. We can fish that piece out later." I started whisking the eggs together with some dashi and seasonings. "So this compartment thing you did..."
"I was trying to think about what you'd actually need to carry around on missions. You know, kunai, shuriken, maybe some coins, emergency stuff like that." She was watching me whisk like she was studying for a test. "I left some space so you can organize it however makes sense to you."
"Good thinking. I'm getting tired of having to dump everything out just to find one thing."
"Yeah, that was kind of the main improvement I was going for. You get a little more storage overall, but the real benefit is being able to grab exactly what you need without having to mess up everything else." She picked another bit of eggshell out of the bowl. "Should be way better for actual missions."
"This is gonna be so useful." I heated the pan, adding a thin layer of oil. "Okay, so here's where it gets a bit tricky. You want the pan hot, but not so hot that it's smoking. If it's too hot, the eggs cook too fast and you can't roll them properly."
"How do I know when it's ready?"
"You do a test drop." I flicked a tiny bit of egg mixture into the pan. It sizzled gently without spattering everywhere. "Yeah, that's perfect. Now watch this part."
I poured in just enough egg mixture to cover the bottom of the pan in a thin layer. "The important thing is working in thin layers. You let each one set just enough to hold together, then you roll it toward you."
"That looks impossible."
"It's really not, it just takes some practice." I used chopsticks to gently roll the cooked egg into a loose cylinder, pushing it to the far end of the pan. "See how that works? Now you add more mixture, lift the cooked part a little so it flows underneath, and you just keep repeating."
"Damn, you make it look easy," she said, watching me work. "I feel like it's way harder than you're making it seem."
"It's just practice, really. Same as your seal work, once you get the muscle memory down, it kind of becomes automatic." I added another layer, repeating the process. "You're basically just building up layers until you get a nice thick roll."
She leaned in closer to watch. "So you're making it roll up like a little sleeping bag?"
That got a small laugh out of me. "Sure, let's go with that."
"Are you sure? I'll probably just mess it up."
"It's just eggs. We've got plenty more." I handed her the chopsticks. "Just pour in another layer, but thinner than you think you need to."
She did, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration. The layer was a bit thicker than it should be, but it wasn't terrible.
"Okay, now you wait for it to set a little. See how the edges are firming up but the center's still kind of wet? That's when you want to roll it."
Her first attempt at rolling was... well, it was aggressive. The egg tore in half, folded back on itself, and somehow ended up looking like it had been in a fight.
"Well," I said, staring at the wreckage, "that's definitely a shape."
"It looks like I killed it."
"Little bit, yeah." I couldn't help laughing. "You went full combat mode on that thing. It never stood a chance."
She groaned. "How do you make it look so easy?"
"I mean, I'm not treating it like a training dummy or something." I nudged the pan toward her again. "Come on, give it one more shot. Just pretend it's something fragile that you actually like this time."
The second attempt went better. Not perfect or anything, but at least it was recognizable as an actual roll instead of some kind of egg crime scene.
"That's not bad," I said as she carefully transferred it to a plate. "Do that a few more times and you'll probably have it down pretty well."
"This is way harder than it looks though." She poked at her creation with a chopstick. "Seriously, how do you make it look so easy?"
"Lots of practice. And I made a lot of ugly ones when I was starting out too."
She took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Okay, this is actually really good. Even if it does look kind of weird."
"See? It doesn't really matter what it looks like." I started cleaning up the pan for another round. "You want to try again? Or we could switch to something easier if you want."
"No, I'll do one more. I think I'm starting to get the hang of it."
"Sounds good. Though we should probably wrap this up soon, right? Don't you have training with Mito-sama later?"
"Yeah, but she'll be fine with it. I mean, this is educational." Kushina grinned. "I'm learning life skills and stuff. That counts as training."
"I'm sure she'll totally see it that way."
"She will once I bring her some of these. Grandma Mito's got a serious sweet spot for good food."
"So you're bribing your grandmother."
"I prefer 'positive reinforcement.'"
"That's literally the same thing."
"Shh."
Twenty minutes and two slightly lopsided but edible omelets later, Kushina was wrapping her creation in a bento box.
"Thanks for this," she said, heading toward the door.
"Yeah, and thanks for the upgrade on the glove. This is going to make missions way easier."
"Just... don't do anything stupid out there, okay?" She paused at the door, looking back at me. "I mean it. Come back in one piece."
"I'll do my best."
After she left, I spent the next hour cleaning up my apartment. Dishes went in the sink, all my scattered notes got filed where they belonged, gear got checked and put away properly. I loaded up my new seal compartments one by one, food in the top left, extra kunai and shuriken in their own spots, emergency stuff spread across the other slots. The shadow clone scroll and my research notes went into the bottom right.
Much better than the old system.
With my gear sorted, I headed back to the kitchen. Team meals on missions were usually terrible, travel rations, whatever we could scrounge, maybe some campfire cooking if we were lucky. Most missions stretched on for days, sometimes weeks, with barely enough downtime to heat up a can of something, let alone prepare an actual meal. We'd be moving constantly, sleeping in shifts, living off protein bars and whatever field rations command had deemed "nutritionally adequate." But I had time to prepare something decent, and my teammates had earned a proper meal after our last assignment.
I started with the rice, washing it until the water ran clear. While that soaked, I began prep work for tempura. The key was keeping everything cold and not overworking the batter. Most people ruined tempura by treating it like regular frying.
I selected vegetables that would travel well and cut them appropriately. Sweet potato thin enough to cook through, eggplant in rounds, peppers in strips, shishitos left mostly whole.
The batter came together with ice water and flour, mixed gently with chopsticks until it was properly lumpy. Smooth batter meant overworked batter, and overworked batter meant tough tempura.
I heated the oil to the right temperature and tested it with a drop of batter. Perfect. The vegetables went in one by one, each piece carefully coated. I turned them once, watching for that pale golden color.
While the tempura drained, I made the dipping sauce with dashi, soy sauce, and mirin in the right proportions. Rice went into the pot with proper water ratio, brought to a boil, then reduced and left alone for the appropriate time.
Miso soup came together with kombu for the dashi base, rehydrated wakame, cubed tofu. The miso paste went in at the very end, whisked gently without boiling.
Daikon radish grated fine, squeezed lightly, formed into small mounds with a few drops of soy sauce.
Finally, the tea. Good sencha leaves, water heated to 175 degrees, hot enough to extract flavor but not so hot it pulled out excessive tannins. Steep for ninety seconds, no longer.
I packed everything in containers designed to keep hot food hot and cold food cold. The tempura went into ventilated containers to prevent steaming and sogginess. Rice and soup in insulated thermal containers. The tea in a proper flask that would keep it at drinking temperature for hours.
By the time I finished, I had enough food for six people. I sealed the containers into my storage food compartments, they'd stay fresh until we were ready to eat. The upgraded glove made packing so much easier; everything I needed fit into the six compartments without any bulk or weight.
I was going through my gear when someone started up the stairs outside. The footsteps were familiar enough that I didn't reach for a kunai. Years of training your paranoia into recognizing friendly targets.
Kushina.
Sure enough, my door opened without a knock. She poked her head in.
"Hey, I forgot something," she said, stepping inside and pulling out a thick book. "I figured you might want this since I can't really teach you the basic of fuinjutsu while you're gone."
The book was clearly well-used, pages marked with dozens of small tabs covered in her neat handwriting.
"This is..." I flipped through a few pages, seeing detailed diagrams with her notes explaining everything. "Are you sure? I mean, these look like your study notes."
"That's why they'll actually help." She grinned. "Just think of it as a loan, okay?"
"Thanks. This is really perfect, actually."
"Just try not to blow yourself up experimenting with anything." She was already heading back toward the door. "And bring it back in one piece when you get back."
"I'll guard it with my life."
"You better."
After she left, I stored the book in one of my seal compartments, then moved back to the center of the room. Time to put the shadow clone jutsu to some practical use.
The first clone materialized with that now-familiar puff of smoke.
"I need you to do some scouting," I told him. "Head to the rendezvous point ahead of schedule, get a feel for the area, check if there's anything suspicious. Just standard reconnaissance stuff."
"Alright, got it." The clone headed for the window. "Is there anything specific I should be watching for?"
"Just see if anyone from other villages is poking around. Kumo's the obvious concern, but stay alert."
He nodded and disappeared into the morning light.
I took a moment to gauge my remaining chakra reserves, still plenty left, but creating clones was definitely expensive. The second clone cost me another significant chunk, but it was worth it for what I had planned.
"You've got a different job," I told the new clone. "I want you to meditate and build up some chakra, then start making more clones. Have them use henge and spread out around the village."
[AN: Just in case anyone's wondering, Shinji's clones being able to regenerate chakra isn't a plot hole. It's connected to his mother's side of the family and some shenanigans that'll be explained properly later. For now, just know there's a reason his shadow clones don't follow normal rules.]
"What am I looking for?"
"Root operatives, anyone who doesn't seem like they belong, weird patrol patterns, just general suspicious stuff, basically." I scratched my head. "Just keep your eyes open and see what's happening while we're gone."
The clone was already settling into a meditation pose. "How many clones are we talking about here?"
"As many as you can manage without burning through all your chakra. But here's the important part, make sure every clone dispels before twenty-four hours. Set a timer or something."
"You worried about memory overload?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Twenty-four hours of memories all dumping back at once sounds like it'd give me a massive headache." I moved toward the door. "I really don't want to find out what happens when too much information gets dumped back all at once like that."
"That's fair. Brain damage from jutsu experimentation isn't exactly on my bucket list either."
"Oh, and set aside a few clones for research too. Have them work on the kage bunshin modifications and study that fuinjutsu book Kushina gave me."
"Yeah, I was already thinking the same thing. We should probably separate the intelligence gathering from the technical work." The clone cracked his knuckles. "I'll call it the research division. Sounds more official that way."
"Start with four or five clones. Maybe two for the clone jutsu work, two for the fuinjutsu stuff, and a backup. You can always make more if you need them."
"I'll find them a quiet spot somewhere where they won't get interrupted by curious neighbors." He was already planning out locations in his head. "This apartment should work for now. If we need more space or privacy later, I'll figure something out."
"Yeah, that sounds good. Just try not to burn the place down while I'm gone." I stepped outside, already thinking about my next stop. I needed to hit the weapons shop before meeting up with the team.
…..
I stepped out of my apartment, squinting a bit as the early sun hit my face. I was already mentally cataloging what I needed from the market, more kunai, shuriken, maybe some wire if they had the good stuff in stock. The upgraded storage seal meant I could actually carry a decent arsenal without looking like a walking armory.
But first things first.
Hanako's dango shop sat on the corner where my street met the main market road, and the sweet smell of grilled rice dumplings was already drifting from her tiny storefront. The old woman had been running that place since before I was born, and her dango was legendary among anyone with functioning taste buds.
"Morning, Hanako-san," I called out as I approached her stall.
"Shinji-kun!" Her wrinkled face creased into a smile that made her look like someone's favorite grandmother. "Off on another adventure today?"
"Yeah, something like that." I leaned against her counter, watching her expertly flip skewers over the small charcoal grill. "How's business been?"
"Oh, I can't complain. Though with all this war talk going around, people have been buying more sweets lately. Nothing like impending doom to make folks crave comfort food, I suppose." She chuckled, pulling a fresh batch of mitarashi dango from the grill. "These just finished cooking. Want some for the road?"
"Yeah, I'd love some."
She handed me three skewers, the dumplings still steaming and glazed with that perfect sweet-salty sauce that somehow made everything else in life seem manageable. I paid her with exact change and took a careful bite, savoring the way the soft rice flour melted against the tangy glaze.
"Mmm. Still the best in the village."
"You're such a flatterer. Now get going before you're late for whatever trouble you're planning to get into today."
I waved goodbye and headed toward the market proper, working my way through the first skewer as I walked. The dango was perfectly chewy, with just enough char from the grill to add some complexity to the sweetness. Some people rushed through food like it was an inconvenience, but good dango deserved proper appreciation.
The shopping district was already pretty busy despite the early hour. War had a way of making everyone suddenly interested in sharp objects. I made my way to Tsumura's shop—not the fanciest place in the district, but the owner kept quality gear and didn't try to sell you garbage just because you looked young.
"Shinji," he said with a nod as I approached, barely glancing up from the kunai he was sharpening. "I heard you made chunin pay on your last mission."
"Yeah, news gets around fast, I guess."
"Well, good news travels fast around here. Bad news travels even faster. And gossip about genin teams making A-rank pay? That's practically breaking news." He set down his sharpening stone and looked up at me. "So what do you need today?"
"Just a standard resupply, mostly. Kunai, shuriken, whatever throwing weapons you've got that are in good condition."
"Planning to fight an army?"
"With my luck? Probably." I took another bite of dango, chewing thoughtfully. "Better to have too many than not enough."
He started pulling weapons from his organized displays, setting them on the counter for my inspection. The steel was clean, the edges properly maintained, the balance points where they should be. Tsumura knew his business.
I was testing the weight of a particularly nice kunai when familiar voices drifted over from the next stall.
"—don't see why we need so many ration packs. It's just an escort mission."
"Because you never know how long these things will actually take, Noboru. Better to have too much food than not enough."
I turned, spotting a head of pale blonde hair that I recognized immediately. Miyabi stood with her back to me, examining travel supplies while her teammates clustered around her, fidgeting with gear and asking way more questions than normal. Definitely gearing up for something longer than their typical missions.
I paid Tsumura for my weapons, then wandered over with my remaining dango skewers.
"Hey, Miyabi. Getting ready for something big?"
She turned, those amber eyes taking in my appearance with that calculating look. "Oh. Shinji. I should have guessed you'd be around here somewhere."
"Yeah, good to see you too." I took a bite of my dango. "You're always so welcoming." I glanced at her teammates. "Hey there, Grumpy, Yua. Still letting your fearless leader here drag you into all kinds of trouble?"
Noboru the civilian-born kid who'd tried to spy on my flag during the survival exercise scowled at me. "It's Noboru."
"Right, that's what I said," I replied, not looking particularly apologetic about it.
Yua snorted. "He only remembers the girls' names, I swear."
"That's not—" I stopped myself. "Okay, you know what? Maybe there's a little truth to that."
"That's just unbelievable," Miyabi said, shaking her head with obvious exasperation. "Anyway, we're doing an escort assignment. There's a small merchant caravan heading to the Land of Hot Water, and then they're coming back through to the Fire Country capital."
I nearly choked on my dango.
"Wait, an escort mission? For merchants? Right now?" I swallowed carefully, my brain immediately jumping to all the intelligence reports I'd been reading. "I mean... that's interesting timing, I guess."
"What do you mean by that?" Yua looked up from the pack she'd been examining.
"Well, I don't want to freak you guys out or anything, but merchant caravans haven't exactly been having the best time lately. Like, at all."
Miyabi's eyes sharpened a bit. "Okay, what are you talking about? What do you know?"
"Foreign shinobi have been hitting trade routes all over the neutral states. Like, coordinated attacks, professional operations. We actually ran into some of them on our last mission." I let that sink in for a second, watching their expressions shift from curiosity to concern. "From what I've been hearing, it's been getting worse too."
"How much worse?" Noboru's voice had gone up half an octave.
"Bad enough that most merchants are pooling their resources for large caravans with heavy security now. The ones still trying to make small runs..." I shrugged. "Let's just say the casualty reports aren't great reading."
Yua shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe we should see about getting some backup or something."
"Backup? For a C-rank escort?" Miyabi sounded almost offended by the suggestion. "I think we can handle some bandits."
"Yeah, but these aren't really bandits." I dropped the casual tone a bit. "These are shinobi from other villages. Chunin at least. They're here to kill people and get paid well for it.
The mood shifted pretty quickly after that. Noboru went pale. Yua's eyes went wide, like she was trying really hard not to panic.
Miyabi, to her credit, didn't flinch at all. "So you're saying this is connected to the war."
"I'm saying that merchants getting hit by coordinated attacks from foreign shinobi during a time when supply lines are really important... probably isn't just a coincidence. Could be Suna trying to mess with our resource flow. Could be other villages just taking advantage of the chaos. Either way, it's not really the kind of thing you want to walk into with just a three-man team, you know?"
"So what, we're just supposed to bail on our mission?" There was an edge to Miyabi's voice.
"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying maybe you'd want some backup from people who actually have experience with this kind of thing." I grinned a little. "And it just so happens that my team's mission is basically to help other teams deal with exactly this problem."
Noboru perked up immediately. "Wait, so you could come with us?"
"I mean, I'd have to check with my team first, but if we're going to be operating in the same area anyway..." I spread my hands. "It would make sense to coordinate what we're doing, right?"
"That's..." Noboru started, then caught Miyabi's look and shut his mouth pretty quickly.
Miyabi was staring at me with that usual look of hers, probably trying to figure out if I had some kind of angle or if I was actually just being helpful for once.
"Your team," she said after a moment. "That would be Team 7, right? Tsunade's students?"
"Yeah, that's us. We just got back from an A-rank mission, we've all seen actual combat at this point, and we've got one of the best medics in the village on our team." I took another bite of dango, keeping my tone pretty casual. "But hey, if you'd rather take on foreign shinobi with just your genin squad, that's totally up to you. I'm sure it'll probably work out fine."
The silence stretched out for several seconds. I could practically hear the gears turning in their heads, especially Noboru and Yua, who were probably doing some quick math on their survival odds with and without backup.
"Okay, so what exactly are you proposing here?" Miyabi asked finally.
"Pretty simple, really. You're escorting merchants through dangerous territory. We're investigating attacks on merchants in dangerous territory." I waved my skewer around a bit. "We travel together, watch each other's backs, and everyone makes it home. Plus if we do run into trouble, you get an extra genin who's actually been through this kind of thing instead of just hoping teamwork saves the day."
"And what's in it for you?"
I could see her trying to figure out my angle. "Other than the warm fuzzy feeling of helping out my fellow Konoha shinobi?" I grinned. "Look, I know you think I'm kind of an ass, but this actually makes sense. We need intel, right? If someone's hitting merchant caravans, having an actual caravan to observe gives us way better data than just showing up to investigate crime scenes after the fact."
Miyabi was quiet for a long moment, those amber eyes flicking between her teammates and me. Noboru looked like he was practically vibrating with nerves, trying to sink into his own shoulders. Yua was squinting so hard I was worried she'd give herself a headache. Both of them wanted her to say yes, that much was obvious, but they weren't about to speak up and risk getting scolded for questioning their team leader's judgment."
Finally, she let out a breath. "Fine. We'll work together on this."
"So when do you guys leave?" I asked.
"Tomorrow morning. We're meeting at the main gate, then picking up our caravan and heading out," she said, then gave me a look. "And your sensei is okay with this arrangement?"
"She's on the frontlines right now, so as long as we get the job done, she's not going to complain about it."
She nodded slowly, like she'd been expecting that answer. "Yeah, the frontlines. I figured as much."
"Yours too?"
"Yeah, also deployed. All the experienced jonin are getting pulled away for that. It's leaving us genin to handle the 'routine' missions."
"Routine," I said with a small laugh. "Right. Because escorting merchants through hostile territory is totally routine stuff."
"Exactly." She glanced at me again. "This still doesn't really explain why you're being so helpful all of a sudden though."
"Miyabi," Noboru said quietly, "maybe we should just—"
"I'm thinking," she cut him off, still staring at me. She paused, then sighed. "Just show up on time tomorrow."
"I'll be there," I said. "Probably even awake."
She shot me a look but didn't take the bait. "Finish getting your supplies. We're meeting at the main gate tomorrow at two," she told her teammates.
"Yes, ma'am," they both said, though Noboru looked significantly more relieved than he had five minutes ago.
I watched them head back into the crowd, Miyabi already listing off things they still needed while her teammates nodded along.
That could have gone worse.
I headed back toward the market proper. Still had my own shopping to finish.
But honestly, having Team 4 along might not be the worst thing that could happen. Having an actual merchant caravan could be really useful for our investigation. Nothing like having some live bait to draw out whatever foreign shinobi were hitting these trade routes. If we could actually capture some of these "bandits" and send them back to T&I for questioning, we'd get a lot more intel than just showing up to examine crime scenes after everything was already over.
I finished grabbing the last few things I needed and started heading back toward the apartment, mentally checking off my shopping list as I walked.