Tonbo Tobitake's aptitude exceeded Mawari Dokuraku's expectations. The boy wasn't just a sensor; he was a sponge.
The second day arrived with the grey, oppressive dawn typical of the war zone.
Tonbo was immediately assigned to active mind-reading duty. And through the fractured psyches of captured enemy shinobi, he truly learned what the Third Great Ninja War looked like.
It was a meat grinder.
The Northern Front was currently commanded by Lord Orochimaru, one of the Sannin. While Jiraiya and Tsunade were engaged elsewhere, Orochimaru held the line against the combined pressure of other Great Nations. The "White Fang," Sakumo Hatake, had committed suicide years prior, leaving a void in Konoha's morale that had yet to be filled.
This was Konoha at its most brittle.
Yet, hope flickered in the form of a blonde blur. Minato Namikaze was carving his name into history. In the memories of the enemy captives, the moniker "Yellow Flash" was synonymous with death. The "Flee on Sight" order wasn't just a rumor; Tonbo saw the terror etched into the neural pathways of Iwa shinobi who had merely glimpsed a flash of gold before their squads were wiped out.
"War is terrifying," Tonbo whispered to himself, rubbing his temples after a particularly grueling session. "I'm definitely staying in the Analysis Team. Let the heroes save the world."
Wandering through the borrowed memories of dying men only solidified his resolve. He would be a cog in the machine, safe behind the walls of logistics.
Time passed in a blur of blood and ink.
As the body count rose, so did Tonbo's proficiency. He became a master locksmith of the mind, prying open secrets with a finesse that even Captain Inoichi began to notice.
But Tonbo didn't rest. In his downtime, he drilled. Taijutsu, shurikenjutsu, kunai handling—the bread and butter of survival. For a Genin without a bloodline limit, these basics were the only thing standing between life and a shallow grave.
He wasn't alone in the rookie pool.
"Man, I hate this war," sighed a boy next to him.
Seishi. Another fresh graduate assigned to Intel. He wiped sweat from his forehead, looking miserable.
"I hate it too," Tonbo replied, checking the edge of his kunai. "But we're Konoha ninja now. We do the job for the village."
It was a rehearsed line. Tonbo knew that displaying a "Will of Fire" facade was essential for survival in a military dictatorship. It kept the superiors happy and the suspicion low.
Their assignment today was light: perimeter patrol around the Analysis Team's mobile base.
"Two-man cells. Stay alert," Mawari had ordered.
It was mostly a training exercise. The real security was handled by the ANBU Black Ops stationed in the shadows. But Tonbo took it seriously. He always took survival seriously.
Swish! Swish!
They leaped through the dim canopy of the forest, the leaves damp with morning mist.
Tonbo kept his sensory field active, pulsing his chakra at regular intervals. He wasn't just patrolling; he was processing. The memories he had stolen from Stone and Sand ninja were integrating into his muscle memory.
He adjusted his grip on a shuriken. An Iwa Chunin he'd interrogated yesterday had a unique way of curving his throws. Tonbo tested the motion. Flick. Snap.
It felt natural.
He realized that theoretical knowledge was often more lethal than flashy jutsu. Codes, tracking signs, ambush patterns—he was downloading the collective wisdom of his enemies.
"Wait."
Tonbo skidded to a halt on a thick branch. Seishi stopped beside him, tense.
"What is it?"
Tonbo formed the Tiger seal, pushing his sensory range to the limit. A map of chakra signatures bloomed in his mind.
"One kilometer east. A small unit just materialized," Tonbo whispered, his voice tight. "Judging by the density of their chakra... this is an elite squad."
Twelve signatures. They had bypassed the outer perimeter. The smallest signature felt as dense as Mawari's.
"We need to report. Now."
Seishi performed his own check, his face paling as he confirmed the reading. "How did the ANBU miss them?"
"Doesn't matter. Move."
They sprinted back to base, abandoning stealth for speed.
"Report!" Tonbo shouted as they burst into the command clearing.
Mawari Dokuraku looked up from a map, his expression sharpening instantly. He listened to the coordinates, nodded once, and turned to the main tent.
Inoichi Yamanaka emerged seconds later, flanked by four combat squads. The transition from administrative calm to lethal readiness was instantaneous.
"Good work," Inoichi said, his voice hard. "Follow me."
Eh?
Tonbo froze. Follow you? The Analysis Team is fighting?
He swallowed his panic. Of course. They were the inner net. If the enemy was fleeing, the main force would flush them out, and the perimeter teams—Tonbo included—were the catchers.
Inoichi led the main force to intercept, coordinating with the hidden ANBU. Mawari signaled for Tonbo and Seishi to hold a defensive line in the brush.
"Stay hidden. Breathe," Mawari instructed, crouching in the shadow of a tree.
"Are you nervous, Tonbo? It's your first real combat," Seishi whispered, his kunai trembling slightly.
"No," Tonbo said. "It's a ninja's duty."
It was a lie, but also the truth. He wasn't nervous because he had lived through a hundred battles in his mind. He pulled a spool of wire from his pouch.
While Seishi prayed, Tonbo set traps.
He strung high-tensile wire between the trees at throat level, angled to catch a runner. He placed explosive tags in the blind spots of the root systems. He placed them exactly where an Iwa ninja would instinctively step to pivot. He knew their training. He knew their habits.
"Good kid," Mawari murmured, eyeing the complex web of death Tonbo had constructed in under a minute. "You've got a knack for this."
Tonbo offered a tight smile. In his head, he felt like Urahara Kisuke, preparing the board for a game he had already won.
Clang! Boom!
The forest to the east erupted.
Flashes of Fire Release lit up the canopy. The ground shook. Inoichi and the ANBU had engaged.
Tonbo felt the chaotic dispersal of chakra signatures. The enemy unit was shattering, scattering like roaches.
"One incoming," Tonbo hissed.
A single signature was tearing through the underbrush, heading straight for their ambush point.
"Positions!" Mawari ordered.
They formed a standard triangle formation.
The foliage burst open. An Iwa ninja, his flak jacket scorched, barreled into the clearing. He was a Chunin, desperate and dangerous.
Tonbo moved first.
He threw three shuriken. It wasn't a kill shot; it was a probe. He curved them, cutting off the escape route to the left.
The Iwa ninja sneered. He twisted mid-air, dodging two and deflecting the third with a kunai. His momentum didn't slow.
Earth Release: Falling Rock.
A massive log, reinforced with stone, dropped from the canopy—Seishi's trap. The enemy didn't panic. He coated his arm in rock and punched through the wood, sending splinters flying.
"Now!" Mawari shouted, launching a volley of kunai.
The enemy landed, his boots skidding on the dirt. He saw the wire trap Tonbo had laid a split second too late. He jerked back, the wire slicing a shallow line across his cheek, but he managed to avoid decapitation.
His expression twisted into a snarl. He slammed his hands onto the ground.
"You brats think you can stop me?"
His body seemed to melt into the soil.
"Mole Hiding Technique!" Seishi yelled, panic rising in his voice.
The enemy vanished underground, moving beneath the surface like a shark in water. He was bypassing their line.
Tonbo's eyes narrowed behind his bandages.
Iwa Style. Underground movement. I know this jutsu.
And more importantly, he knew the counter. He had seen it in the memories of a Konoha Jonin who specialized in Earth Release.
He had practiced the hand seals only a few times, but his hands moved with the assurance of a veteran.
Snake. Ox. Clap.
Tonbo slammed his palm onto the earth directly above the tunneling chakra signature.
Earth Release: Earth Flow Spears (Hardening Variation)!
Usually, this was a C-rank technique used to create obstacles. But Tonbo poured his chakra into the soil, changing its density. He didn't create spears; he solidified the medium.
The soft earth instantly calcified into rigid steel-like rock.
CRUNCH.
A muffled scream echoed from below.
The ground heaved. The tunneling ninja had slammed into an immovable wall at full speed, the earth crushing in around him as it hardened.
The ground cracked open as the enemy forced his way out, gasping for air. He was a mess—blood streaming from his nose, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle. The sudden compression had ravaged his internal organs.
He glared at Tonbo, raising a kunai for a final, desperate strike.
He collapsed before he could take a step.
Thwack!
Mawari appeared behind him, driving a kunai into the base of the man's skull to sever the motor nerves.
"Clean kill," Mawari said, looking at Tonbo with a new level of respect. "That was an excellent counter."