"Damn, she really didn't hold back." After my morning training and a shower, I took a closer look at my shoulder and saw a yellowish spot. It was just a simple poke with a finger, but yesterday there'd been a pretty big bruise there. Overnight, it had faded to yellow and shrunk a bit. Luckily, I wasn't feeling any pain or discomfort anymore.
Fighting a Hyuga means not caring about your own body. Now I finally understood that saying firsthand - I'd overheard it once from two med-nin while getting my arm treated after that run-in with Asuma. In close combat, they're insanely dangerous opponents - I'd say even for Uchiha. Their only real weakness in a brawl is Guy. He probably wouldn't even feel those finger jabs - honestly, he could probably poke a hole through anyone with just one finger.
Leaving the bathroom and getting dressed, I found Aika peacefully snoozing on my bed.
"She's getting used to the good life way too fast." Looks like Aika can be left home alone just fine. I'd left for training this morning without waking her, and instead of wondering where I'd gone, she'd decided it was more interesting to see what it was like to lounge on my bed.
"What should I do today?" I definitely wasn't planning on leaving the house. It's always safer to stay home - the moment I step outside, something always happens.
Well, I could have my clones work on chakra control training. The old leaf-on-the-body exercise wasn't doing much for me anymore - I could stick leaves all over myself and walk on the ceiling at the same time. Unfortunately, the only idea I had left for improving my control was learning the Rasengan. Of course, the best thing would be to take a med-nin course - I'm sure just learning the Mystical Palm would boost my chakra control a ton. Too bad the next round of student admissions isn't for another month.
I didn't see any real problem with learning the Rasengan itself - the only issue would be if I ever had to use it in public. No, I wasn't planning to go around showing off like an idiot, bragging about knowing such a technique. It's just that, if I ever really needed to defend myself, I might have to use it, and there's no way to predict when or where that might happen.
So the odds of someone seeing me use it are pretty high. And then, explaining with a kunai at my throat where I'd learned such a flashy jutsu - I doubt I'd be able to talk my way out of that. I only dared to use the Shadow Clone Technique because I figured the village leadership already knew I could do it - I just couldn't believe Itachi hadn't reported it.
On the other hand, if I ever got cornered, the Rasengan could save my life more than once.
But… I can weigh the pros and cons all I want, but my subconscious already made the decision for me a long time ago. The dozens of packs of balloons are proof enough. And when I bought them, I definitely wasn't thinking about throwing anyone a birthday party.
Sighing, I went to the bathroom and created four clones - my current mental limit. Physical training and frequent chakra use definitely help increase my reserves.
I remember when I first started using clones for long-term tasks, I could only make two - the information load was just too much for me. For short-term stuff, my chakra was barely enough for four. Now, I can summon more, but using more than four at once is still tough.
No idea how long it'll take for my brain to adapt to the current load, but using five clones at once isn't that far off.
Hmm… am I sure it's my chakra reserves that have increased? I basically built my control up from scratch to genin level. Maybe my reserves only grew by a few percent, and the increase in clone numbers is actually thanks to better control. Yeah… I'm still missing a lot of theory on chakra. I'm sure I could find the right books at the hospital if I trained as a med-nin, but as for open access… no chance.
"All right, you guys know what to do." Tossing a pack of balloons to one of the clones, I left the bathroom and closed the door behind me.
Now, I needed to figure out what to do with myself.
My hands were itching to grab a brush and some ink, but unlike the clones, my self-preservation instinct wasn't dulled. If I made a mistake experimenting with fuinjutsu, best case, nothing would happen - worst case, I'd blow up my room with myself in it. So, anything involving experiments should be left to the clones, and preferably not in my bathroom, but in some basement, far from me and any random people.
Of course, setting up a lab under the restaurant would be the height of stupidity. I'd need a storage space, or maybe rent a place for my projects. But I didn't want to advertise my progress in fuinjutsu - in Konoha, people will definitely ask why I need a warehouse or another house if I'm not living there. The restaurant doesn't need a warehouse - the pantry is enough for food.
Hmm, if I think about it, I was planning to start another business, but… with the possibility of Pain attacking in the future, I have to factor in potential losses… Well, I've got plenty of time for now. If things start going like in canon, worst case, I'll just sell all my property in Konoha.
Glancing at the corner of the table, where a small stack of papers lay, I sighed.
"At least I could work on the second part of my book."
****
After tossing the last soggy piece of balloon into the trash, Akira headed to the kitchen to make some tea, hoping to finally relax on the living room couch after five hours at the desk and all the information his poor brain had to process after the clones dispelled.
"All I'm missing is some classical music and a cool breeze," he thought wistfully, gazing through the open window at the red-orange sun slowly sinking behind the roof of the neighboring apartment building.
"And who the hell is that?" he wondered, seeing a man's figure slip past his window.
"A friend of Kushina's?" he frowned, trying to figure out who it could be, but when he heard steady knocking at his own door, he got even more confused.
"Weird, I wasn't expecting anyone today, and he doesn't look like ANBU." Forming a hand sign and waiting for the smoke from the jutsu to clear, he nodded to his clone, while Akira himself headed to his bedroom. The window there faced the back of the house, and if trouble came knocking, it was the best escape route. Of course, it depended on who he was running from.
Until recently, nobody but the village leadership had any reason to be interested in him, and he didn't have much money to his name. Now, things had changed a bit. Sure, nobody would come demanding his hard-earned cash in broad daylight, but someone could easily find out where he lived and come by quietly to "negotiate like gentlemen." Even in a place as safe as Konoha, there are always ways for shady types to get what they want - competition never sleeps.
When Akira was about to lose patience, the door slowly opened.
"It was a messenger. He brought an invitation from the clan head," his exact double announced, waving an envelope.
"Damn, even when I'm home, people still manage to bother me. Who was it? Shikaku? Maybe Choza?" he asked, taking the envelope from the clone.
"Oh, you'll be surprised," the clone smirked, jumping onto the bed to cuddle with Aika.
There was nothing on the envelope but the recipient's name. Out of kindness, the clone had already carefully opened it with a knife.
"Well, let's see who it was." Pulling out the folded letter, he started reading, admiring the beautiful, precise handwriting. But as he finished the greetings and apologies for possibly interrupting something important, his expression changed dramatically.
"Yeah, that's unexpected. And very interesting." Setting the letter in the bowl where he sometimes burned incense, he lit it with a lighter and watched it burn.
"Shame to burn something like that. People here write every letter like they want you to frame it and hang it on the wall."
"So, are you going to go?" the clone asked, poking Aika's teeth with a finger.
"Like I have a choice"
"The letter gave a specific time for tomorrow. Sure, it says if you can't make it, you can reschedule, but I doubt many locals would dare inconvenience the head of the Uchiha clan."
"Oh, well, good luck, man. Oh, and…" Whatever else he was going to say, Akira never found out - Aika bit his finger, making him vanish before he could finish the thought.
"Tyav?" she looked at the cloud of chakra smoke, then at me, confused.
"Yeah, Aika, good job," Akira sighed.
"This isn't a great situation. Honestly, I wanted to keep my contact with that clan to a minimum. Give Danzo any excuse and he'll start suspecting me of everything, and now here I am, heading straight to the clan he openly hates."
"And all this over a single book. Unbelievable," he sighed again.
****
"If the Nara clan's district felt more like a quiet residential neighborhood where only clan members lived, the Uchiha territory was more like a small town inside another city." That was Akira's impression of the place.
Before, he'd only ever visited the police station at the entrance, so he hadn't really formed any opinion about the district, never having been to its center. [ image ]

"And this time, they let me in without even asking why I was here… Were they warned in advance? Whatever… but where am I supposed to go?" he wondered, looking at the tailor's shop and listening to the quiet conversations around him, which sounded more like whispers.
"Ah, excuse me, you must be Akira-san?" he heard a cheerful voice behind him.
Turning around, Akira saw a young man with the telltale signs of a police officer, his face a mix of relief and happiness.
"That's right. Is something wrong?" The guy put a hand behind his neck and started talking.
"Ahem, actually, I was supposed to meet you at the entrance and escort you to Fugaku-sama's house, but something urgent came up. Sorry if I caused you any trouble." He bowed his head slightly.
"Did that urgent matter have anything to do with your sleepy eyes?" Akira smiled, shaking his head.
"No worries, I would've found my way eventually. And you are…?" The guy seemed amusing, so Akira wanted to at least learn his name.
"Uchiha Saito." The young man straightened up, trying to look serious - and failing.
"Well then, nice to meet you, Saito-san." The respectful address made Saito's face light up.
"Oh, no, Akira-san, I'm much younger than you," he said, suddenly waving his hands as if remembering something. "Ah, let's not waste time."
As they walked through the residential area where the clan head and his inner circle lived, Saito pointed out various places, explaining what was sold or made there.
"That way is the clan park, which is part of the northwestern forest stretching several kilometers beyond the village."
"I've never met such a chatterbox," Akira thought, impressed by his guide.
In just ten minutes, they reached their destination.
"This place actually looks a lot like the Nara district - the same wooden houses in Japanese style, a neat garden, even a small decorative pond. They live well. Now I kind of want to see how the Hyuga clan head's place is set up," Akira thought, eyeing the bamboo.
As soon as Mikoto stepped out of the house, Saito said goodbye and left.
Akira did his best to keep a smile from breaking out as he approached the house.
"Good afternoon, you must be Akira-san?" she began, acting every bit the proper hostess. Mikoto had powdered her face a little and put on a yukata for the official meeting.
"Wants to play strangers? All right," he thought, and said,
"That's right. And you must be Fugaku-san's eldest daughter?" Akira smiled slightly.
"Ahem, no, not at all. My name is Mikoto, I'm his wife." She smiled back, glancing away for a moment.
"Heh, compliment landed. Should I push a little more?" Akira put on a look of surprise and quietly exclaimed,
"Oh, forgive me, I must have mixed something up. Then, judging by your age, you must have only recently gotten married." Akira "showed off" his analytical skills.
"Not quite. I already have children - my eldest daughter is fourteen, and my youngest is in the academy now." At the end, Mikoto silently mouthed, "Stop it."
"Haha, all right, I've embarrassed Mikoto. What's next?" Akira mentally pumped his fist in victory.
After a few standard pleasantries, Mikoto invited Akira inside and led him down the hallway, hands behind her back, making small talk along the way.
"…so, even though we were relocated from the center to the northwest district, thanks to the community's open land, we were able to build this wonderful house."
"Now's a good time to hand her the picture," Akira thought, and, pulling a scroll from the depths of his kimono sleeve, quickly and discreetly placed it in Mikoto's palm, which peeked out from her yukata.
Mikoto didn't miss a beat in her story, only briefly bringing her hands in front of her before returning them behind her back - now without the scroll.
"Very smooth!" Akira thought, impressed by her speed.
Five minutes later, Mikoto brought him to a room that looked more like a study.
"Bring us some tea," Fugaku said after the initial greetings, inviting Akira to sit at a small table by the bookshelf.
Fugaku wasn't much different from his anime version, except now he was 3D and not drawn. Well, and the anime never showed that he had a particular sense of humor:
"You described torture so vividly and in such detail - have you already visited the interrogation department?" His humor wasn't exactly top-tier, but you could work with it.
"Yes," I nodded seriously and continued, "Once, at our market, instead of fresh local beef, I decided to buy some dried imported stuff from Suna. The guy next to me, all bandaged up with a scar on his chin, immediately accused me of being a spy and a traitor. I don't remember what happened next, but I woke up at home - I guess my brain couldn't handle the torture and decided to forget it." If I hadn't seen his cheeks puff out a little, I'd have thought he didn't get the joke, and I might have felt awkward in the sudden silence.
A few seconds later, he picked up his teacup and took a sip, coughing a few times.
What's funnier than a joke about your enemy's paranoia? Only a joke that dumps on him, but since Fugaku was doing his best to keep things proper, I held back from showing off my sense of humor any further.
"And you know the village's chief advisor well," he cast a line into my pond.
"I'm good at observing and analyzing. Since I sometimes visit the administration, I've seen him, and I can't form any other opinion about a man who suspiciously glances around every few steps," I shrugged slightly.
"I see. From your book, I already got that impression, and that's why I wanted to hear your thoughts on some changes I'm planning for the police."
For the next hour, I basically worked as a free consultant. I'd never worked in the police, but as a kid I'd watched hundreds of movies about them, so I had a few ideas - especially since Konoha's military police force had only existed for about twenty years.
Active use of the criminally underutilized radio communication technology, splitting staff into patrol officers, detectives, and rapid response specialists, equipping patrols with first aid and temporary restraint tools, bribing bar owners to increase the number of informants - and much more. I suggested all this, and Fugaku considered it all.
"Oh, and you should add an extra protocol for arrests or detentions, to reduce public distrust of the police and your clan in particular." As I said this, I drained my third cup of tea, which, as the guest, was immediately refilled.
I could feel I'd need a bathroom break soon.
"What kind of protocol?" he asked right away.
"Let's say, a phrase to be said just for the record, so there are no later accusations of abusing your dojutsu. For example, if a patrol officer urgently needs to know if someone's telling the truth, he should say something like, 'To avoid any misunderstandings or wrong decisions, I have to ask for your cooperation. We can go to the station for questioning, or you can allow me to use my dojutsu to determine if you're telling the truth.' And then somehow reassure them that the Sharingan won't be used for anything else. Of course, if the situation doesn't allow for it, you make an exception."
"We'll lose a lot of time if we bring everyone to the station," Fugaku frowned.
"Yeah, but people are lazy. If they realize that just letting you look at them with your special eyes will save them an hour or two, they'll gladly agree. Then the police won't seem like monsters peering into their minds, but polite people you can work with to save time. It might seem like a small thing, but I think it'll have a big positive impact on the police's reputation." Fugaku looked at me intently - honestly, it was hard not to look away. Even without the Sharingan, it felt like he was staring right into my soul.
"That does sound reasonable." In the end, he was the first to look away, glancing at the sheet of paper in front of him and jotting down a few words. "Thank you, Akira-san, you've been a great help to our clan." He looked back at me and bowed thirty degrees.
For someone of my status - basically a nobody - a bow like that from the head of a great clan was like a deep bow from a regular person.
"No need, Fugaku-san, I just shared a few random thoughts," I said modestly.
"If only my elders had such random thoughts. Still, I'm convinced - you're a pretty smart guy, maybe even smarter than some Nara. But you didn't have to help me."
"Fugaku-san, intelligence isn't a privilege, it's a gift - and it should be used for good."
But first, for my own good.
The quote from Doctor Octavius in Spider-Man really struck a chord with Fugaku - I could tell by how his eyes lost focus for a few seconds and his lips twitched.
"And yet…" he continued, coming back to reality, "whether you meant to or not, you've already helped us improve our reputation among the villagers. That means the Uchiha clan owes you twice now," he said calmly.
"Hm? Maybe I missed something?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
"Your book," he said, pointing to a specific volume on the shelf. "The strong resemblance between the main character and members of my clan has had a big impact on how people see us - at least, among those who've read it."
"Ahh," I waved it off, "the book isn't that widespread - I doubt even ten percent of the village has heard of it. So it's not really worth mentioning."
"You're mistaken," he smiled slightly. "You're probably judging by the number of copies sold, but that's not quite right."
"Could you clarify?" Did I miss something? Or is someone else printing them in the village?
"Your book, let's say, is making the rounds all over the village. Someone lends it to a neighbor, who gives it to his wife, who passes it to her friends, and so on."
Ah… right… Damn, that's true! I forgot this is a different world - here, everyone shares books, just like people used to back in my world, before there were hundreds of TV channels and the internet took over.
Meanwhile, Fugaku continued:
"Your book has spread so much that some of my clan's members get random kids asking to see their dojutsu."
I immediately pictured a stern Uchiha being approached by a kid with a candy stick, begging to see his magic eyes, and the man, offended, walking off into the sunset, grumbling that he can't because he hasn't awakened them yet.
Fugaku, watching my face, smiled and said,
"Yes, it's funny - and the fact that this happens means people at least don't fear us anymore, just treat us with caution. That's had a positive effect on the younger minds in our clan. So, to sum up, I just want to ask: Akira-san, is there anything the Uchiha clan can do for you?"
Whoa, heavy words. He just offered me any wish I wanted, and right now it'd be really smart to ask for something, instead of trying to build a relationship with him - after all, there's still a chance of a massacre, maybe not a full one, since a total massacre is a pretty dumb, illogical move the Naruto author made for the plot. And if I don't ask for anything now, just to improve my relationship with his clan, that's also illogical - who needs good relations with a destroyed clan? So, there's no real point.
But what could I ask for? Kill Danzo? If he could, he'd have done it himself. Money? I'm already making decent cash. Power? He's not going to make me an elder - wrong blood, and I don't want to die young. Ask for his daughter's hand? Do I really want to tie myself down that fast? And would he just throw me out of the house for that? So many questions, but only one answer keeps coming to mind. I'd better answer quickly, or I'll look like I'm seriously considering an offer that's hard to refuse.
"Oh, I just thought of something," I said, drawing all of Fugaku's attention. "I really like your district and the people here. Maybe I'm asking too much, but I'd like to be able to visit your territory in my free time."
Stupid? Definitely. And I'm not even mentioning the extra attention from Danzo. Maybe this is my subconscious trying to prevent the massacre in some weird way, or maybe it's just a bit of altruism. Or maybe I just want to feel like I'm not being watched all the time - at least here, ANBU-NE won't get in, not during the day anyway.
Fugaku straightened up and started tapping his finger on the table. From what I'd noticed, he did that when he was deep in thought.
After about ten seconds, the tapping stopped, and Fugaku looked at me and nodded.
"I see no problem with that. From now on, the gates of our clan are always open to you - you have my word. And… to make you feel more comfortable here, I'll arrange for you to have a nice house. I think, as a writer, you'll find more inspiration if you can see our forest park from your window."
Wow. That's what they mean by "ask for a lot, get a little." Honestly, I wasn't expecting that.
Well, what can I say? You don't turn down gifts like that. And it looks like I just found the perfect place for my clones to experiment with fuinjutsu, away from prying eyes.
[ Fugaku ]

🔥~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🔥
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