Back in the village, Mū wasted no time. He arranged quarters for the Fūma Clan immediately, housing them close to the village center.
There were two reasons for this.
First, it was a gesture of respect. By placing them in the heart of Iwagakure, it showed the clan that their contribution would be valued, and that they were to become part of the core.
Second, it was surveillance. Mū trusted their oath, but trust alone was never enough. His cautious nature demanded they remain where his eyes could always find them.
"Lord Mū, your immigration policy is showing results!"
One of the village officials beamed. "Already, many civilians and wandering ninja have joined us. The village is expanding rapidly, our population has grown by over three thousand!"
The officials themselves were glowing; between fees and permits, their own coffers were filling nicely.
"Good," Mū said coolly, "but we cannot accept everyone. Character matters. On my way here, I saw drifters, thugs and loafers, squatting in our free housing and doing nothing. Such people only bring instability. They must be purged."
"Yes, Lord Mū!" the officials chorused, bowing deeply.
"Enough. Return to your posts and do your duties well." Mū flicked his wrist dismissively, and they scurried out.
Another officer lingered nervously. "Lord Mū, the ninja academy site still needs your decision."
Mū's eyes narrowed in thought, then he nodded. "Very well. I'll choose the location myself."
When the office was finally empty, Mū cast a transformation jutsu and slipped out of the Tsuchikage's tower.
Walking among the crowded streets, he blended in as just another villager. He wanted to see the truth of his policies, without his title tilting the scales.
The village was humming with life.
He caught snippets of conversation as he passed.
"The village's grown so much lately. So many new things to buy."
"Yeah, and more people moving in every day."
"All thanks to Lord Mū. They should make him Tsuchikage already!"
Mū allowed himself a faint nod. The immigration initiative was working.
Without realizing it, he found himself on the busiest street in Iwa.
Shops lined the way, grilled meat stalls, flower vendors, tailors. The bustle was alive, vibrant, and the shinobi were no longer hoarding their wages.
They were spending. Prosperity was taking root.
He ducked into a teahouse and ordered a cup.
No sooner had he sat down than the stage curtains parted. A storyteller began his performance.
"Today, I shall recount the tale of Lord Mū's battle against Uchiha Madara!"
Mū nearly choked on his drink. 'What? Already?'
Applause and cheers erupted, residents pounding the tables with excitement.
For them, it was a rousing epic, a story that made them proud to be Iwa.
Mū sipped his tea, sweat prickling under the bandages.
If Madara ever hears this nonsense, he'll come straight back to kill me.
Still… exaggerated or not, it was good for morale. Pride mattered as much as coin.
He stood, muttering under his breath, "So now we even have rakugo comedians in Iwa. Hmph… not bad."
Leaving the teahouse, he wandered the length of the street. Yes, the village was stable, growing, and gaining wealth. What it needed now was patience and capital.
His inspection done, Mū turned to the task of selecting a site for the new academy.
Mū walked until he came across a wide, open space.
The sun shone freely here, the view was clear, and it was close to both the residential districts and the heart of the village.
"…Here. This will do."
Without hesitation, he decided this spot would be the site of Iwagakure's first shinobi academy.
On the way back, Mū made a detour to the back mountain. He recalled that Ōnoki often trained there.
No matter how busy he was with the affairs of Iwa, he was still a teacher. He would not neglect his student.
In the back mountain, Ōnoki was sweating and straining, trying to master control over chakra. He was attempting to balance wind, fire, and earth, the foundation for Dust Release.
But no matter how many times he tried, the three natures refused to combine.
Mū, hidden under his camouflage technique, watched silently.
After repeated failures, Ōnoki collapsed onto the ground with a groan.
"Ugh! Why can't I do it? Maybe… maybe I don't have the talent for Dust Release at all?"
The boy lay flat on the earth, his confidence fraying with every failed attempt.
Mū finally dispelled his jutsu and revealed himself.
The shadow looming overhead startled Ōnoki. He opened his eyes, and when he saw who it was, he shot upright instantly.
"Sensei! What are you doing here?"
Scratching his head awkwardly, Ōnoki looked embarrassed.
"As your teacher, it's my duty to watch over your training." Mū sat beside him, his voice calm.
"Don't be disheartened. Dust Release was never something easily mastered."
Ōnoki sighed. "I've tried so many times, and still I can't fuse the three natures together…"
Mū thought for a moment, then explained, "Fusion requires balance and precision. Instead of forcing them together, first focus on controlling each one separately, make each stable on its own. Then attempt the fusion slowly."
Ōnoki's eyes lit up at the advice, only for doubt to creep back. "But I've already tried so many times… I just can't get it right."
Mū rose to his feet, smiling faintly. He could see it clearly, Ōnoki wasn't defeated by the training, but by his own loss of confidence.
"Listen well," Mū began, his tone steady, "the greatest wound failure inflicts is not in missing the goal once or twice. It's when repeated setbacks convince you that you can't, until you finally give up."
"That moment is called the barrier of self-confidence."
"Every shinobi must pass through it. Don't measure only by results. Look at your growth. Build layer upon layer of progress, and that foundation will one day carry you to success."
As he spoke, Mū placed a firm hand on Ōnoki's head. His words rang like iron in the boy's heart.
Ōnoki's doubts began to dissolve. If his teacher, the founder of Dust Release, one of the strongest shinobi alive, believed in him, then how could he not believe in himself?
Mū patted his shoulder and smiled.
"Have faith. You are my student, Ōnoki. Do not belittle yourself."
The words struck deep. Ōnoki felt his blood ignite, like he had been injected with fire.
"Yes, Teacher! I'll master control over the three chakras, I swear it!"
Ōnoki returned to his training immediately, repeating each exercise, practicing each nature separately before considering fusion.
Mū watched silently, satisfied.
This was the truth: the surest way to help someone break through doubt was not more training, but the encouragement of authority.
If the one they respected most said, "You can," then the heart would believe it.
And with belief came strength.
Exactly as Ōnoki now believed, If my teacher, the man who created Dust Release, says I can do it, then I will.