Chapter 11: A Mutual Understanding
The village of Konoha was only a few decades old. Before its founding, the shinobi world was a bloody, fractured landscape of feuding clans during the Warring States Period. This relatively recent unification meant a mosaic of different cultures and appearances coexisted within the village walls. Jiraiya's own genin team, as depicted in the tales of Minato Namikaze, had included a member with dark skin and distinct features. Such diversity was not uncommon.
"Takumi," the man named D said, his voice low and earnest, "your blood is, and will always be, tied to Kumogakure."
He paused, letting the weight of the statement hang in the secret room's damp air before continuing. "If you are willing, we can extract you during your first mission outside the village after you graduate. You will be brought to the Hidden Cloud, where you will receive the finest training our village has to offer." The timing was critical. With the Third Great Shinobi War simmering on the horizon, the ensuing chaos would provide the perfect cover for such an operation.
"You could be the founding patriarch of the Uchiha branch within Kumogakure!" D proclaimed, a spark of fervent ambition in his eyes.
Takumi, however, remained unmoved. He had heard empty promises before. Grand titles meant nothing without tangible power.
"The Uchiha have treated me fairly," Takumi countered, his voice carefully neutral. "They are providing me with an education and will, in time, teach me the clan's ninjutsu." He let the implication hang in the air—he needed a reason to switch allegiances, and that reason had a price.
D understood immediately. A smirk touched his lips. This was a negotiation. "The Raikage has great expectations for you. He authorized us to provide… an advance." He produced a scroll from within his vest and handed it over.
Takumi took it and unsealed it. It contained a D-rank Lightning Release technique called "Lightning Finger." The rank of a jutsu referred not to its raw power, but to the complexity of learning it. E-rank for Academy students, D-rank for genin, C-rank for chunin, and B-rank for jonin. Beyond that, A-rank techniques were considered forbidden, requiring immense chakra reserves or carrying severe risks, and S-rank stood as the pinnacle of jutsu, legendary and devastating. A higher rank didn't always mean more destructive force, but it invariably signified greater difficulty and, typically, greater utility.
A quick scan of the "Lightning Finger" scroll revealed its limitations. It merely stimulated the cells of the index and middle finger to produce faint, almost invisible arcs of electricity. It was a parlour trick, a test.
D watched Takumi's underwhelmed reaction. "We have our sources within Konoha," he said smoothly, his eyes narrowing. "You've received no such ninjutsu from the Uchiha. Why cling to a clan that withholds its knowledge? They do not acknowledge your potential. We do. If you desire true power, the path leads back to Kumo."
His tone was slick, persuasive, framing the offer as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
"I'll need some time to consider it," Takumi said finally, rerolling the scroll and tucking it into his own pouch. He turned and left the secret room without another word.
Kumogakure was not foolish enough to hand over significant power all at once. This was merely the first lure, a small fish to hook a bigger one.
"Lord D," Samui said, her voice cool and analytical, after Takumi had departed. She stood with him on the third floor of the shop, looking down at the sparse evening foot traffic. The other "staff" were closing up for the night. "Yotsuki Takumi… I do not believe he has any real intention of returning to Kumo."
She was a pragmatist. While D had spun a tale of Uchiha rejection, it was clear this was likely a temporary state of affairs. Once the clan deemed him trustworthy, they would undoubtedly share their techniques. She doubted Yotsuki Takumi would abandon that future for the uncertain promises of a foreign village. In her view, their efforts here were likely a waste of time.
"No," D countered, a confident smile playing on his lips. "He will come around." His brother was a prominent member of Kumo's hawkish faction, and he was privy to information Samui was not. The entire shinobi world was a powder keg. The war hawks were waiting for the right spark, and when war erupted again, everything would change. An isolated Uchiha boy would have no better option.
Takumi, now a block away, melted into the flow of pedestrians. His face was a mask of calm in the dim evening light. When he was certain he was unobserved, he focused, and the single tomoe in his left eye began to spin slowly.
The unique chakra of the Sharingan, his pupil power, flooded his ocular nerves. The world sharpened, details leaping into hyper-clarity. The distant sushi shop, which should have been a blur, was now as clear as if he were standing in front of it. He could see the staff wiping down counters and stacking chairs.
He focused on the third-floor window. Though he couldn't hear them, the enhanced visual perception of the Sharingan allowed him to read their lips with terrifying accuracy. He watched the entire exchange between D and Samui, catching every subtle shift in their expressions.
In the future, a three-tomoe Sharingan user would be able to see individual viruses. Takumi's single tomoe was more than sufficient to read lips from a hundred meters away.
He lowered his head, a faint, cynical smile touching his lips. "The Uchiha don't acknowledge me? But when has Kumogakure ever truly acknowledged me as anything other than a asset?"
He raised his eyes again, his gaze sweeping over the sushi restaurant before settling once more on Samui's distinctive silhouette. Neither the Uchiha nor Kumogakure was his home. The Uchiha's caution was a political necessity, a way to manage a delicate situation without alienating other potential lost bloodlines. And Kumo? They saw him as a breeding stud, a resource to be exploited and controlled to enhance their military might. It would be a life of endless, draining servitude.
He ran his fingers over the edge of the D-rank scroll in his pouch, feeling the coarse texture of the paper. His eyes, still fixed on Samui, glinted with a cold, calculating light.
If that was the game, then he would play it his own way. It was only reasonable to use their offers to his own advantage.
For the next several days, Takumi fell into a monotonous routine: Ninja Academy, afternoon training, home. He was a model student, quiet and focused. On the sixth day, he returned to the sushi restaurant.
Samui approached him, her expression professionally neutral. "Yots— Sir, would you care to try the grilled squid sushi today?"
But Takumi's response was not what she expected. He met her gaze directly, his single visible eye holding an unnerving intensity.
"Miss Samui," he began, his voice low enough that only she could hear, a subtle threat woven into his polite tone. "You wouldn't want to be the reason for a… permanent breakdown in relations between myself and Kumogakure, would you?"
(End of Chapter)