"They're back! Look, the Fourth Division is back!"
"That's my brother! He made Chunin!"
"Where's my dad? Has anyone seen Squad Seven?"
The massive wooden gates of Konoha were thrown open, and a sea of villagers pressed against the cordon lines. The air buzzed with a mix of jubilation and anxiety. For every cheer of reunion, there was a silent, suffocating dread in the eyes of those who couldn't find the face they were looking for.
The returning army was a patchwork of exhausted men and women. Some limped, supported by comrades. Others marched with the thousand-yard stare of survivors.
"Once you complete registration, you are dismissed," Captain Inoichi announced, his voice projecting clearly over the crowd. "Go home. Rest. But keep your gear ready. The war isn't over yet."
"Sir!"
Tonbo stood at the edge of the formation, observing. He saw Inoichi break rank and hurry toward a pregnant woman with long black hair. Her face lit up with relief. Inoichi caught her hands gently, his usually stoic expression melting into tenderness.
That must be Inoichi's wife, Tonbo noted. She's carrying Ino.
He scanned the crowd, looking for his own reception.
A middle-aged man with a kind face and an empty right sleeve pushed through the throng. He was about thirty, handsome despite the wear of time.
"Good work, son. You look like you've grown a few inches."
Tosei Tobitake smiled warmly at Tonbo.
"Dad. Are you looking down on your son already?" Tonbo grinned, the tension of the last few months finally draining from his shoulders. "I'm part of the Analysis Team now. I'm even studying directly under Lord Inoichi."
Tosei laughed, clapping his remaining hand on Tonbo's shoulder. "That's my boy. You didn't get chewed out by your superiors, did you?"
This was Tosei Tobitake. Once a classmate of the legendary White Fang, Sakumo Hatake, until a mission cost him his arm and his ability to weave hand seals. He had retired to raise a family, feeding Tonbo stories of the shinobi world instead of milk.
"Funny," Tonbo retorted. "Do you think I'm like you? I heard you fainted the first time you used the Mind Transmission technique. Your son is already a Chunin."
"Hah! That's my genes at work," Tosei sniffed, pretending to be offended. "Back in the day, I was only a step behind Sakumo... and now my son is only a step behind his son?"
They walked home together, bickering affectionately.
The Tobitake residence was a modest two-story wooden house in the older district of Konoha. It smelled of cedar and dried herbs.
As they stepped onto the porch, Tonbo noticed them—dozens of small, woven grass dragonflies hanging from the eaves. They spun gently in the breeze.
He counted them quickly. One hundred and twenty-five.
One for every day he had been gone.
Tonbo felt a lump in his throat. He tossed his gear into his room, collapsed onto his bed, and fell into a sleep so deep it felt like a coma.
Tosei didn't wake him. He sat on the porch, weaving one final dragonfly with his single hand, and hung it with the others.
"Ah... morning already?"
Tonbo stretched, his joints popping. He hadn't slept that well in months. No screams, no exploding tags, no blood.
After a breakfast that was arguably too large, Tonbo grabbed his gear and headed for Training Ground 98.
The stream there was quiet, perfect for concentration.
"Do fish have sad memories?" Tonbo murmured, crouching by the water.
He held a small fish in his hand. His chakra flared, subtle and invasive.
Psycho Mind Transmission: Despair Pulse.
The fish's eyes, usually blank, seemed to dim. It stopped thrashing. It floated listlessly in the water, as if it had lost the will to swim.
But a second later, it shook its tail and darted away.
"It needs work," Tonbo sighed, scribbling notes in a small book.
Since developing "Trauma Spike" on the battlefield, Tonbo had become obsessed with the intersection of biology and Genjutsu.
His theory was simple: Emotions were just chemical signals. If he could hijack the neural pathways responsible for depression and lethargy, he could create a jutsu that didn't just trick the senses, but physically shut down the body's will to move.
"Trauma Spike" targeted pain receptors. This new technique, "Despair Pulse," targeted the serotonin and dopamine regulators.
But the fish recovered too fast.
"Yo, kid. Are you practicing Genjutsu on a fish?"
Thump.
Tonbo's heart nearly exploded. The voice was right in his ear.
He spun around, ripping the bandages from his eyes, a kunai already in his hand.
"Who—"
He froze.
An old man in white robes stood there, smoking a pipe. He had a small, goatee beard and eyes that crinkled with amusement.
Hiruzen Sarutobi. The Third Hokage. The Professor.
"Lord Third!" Tonbo gasped, dropping to one knee. "Forgive me! I didn't sense you!"
"Hahaha, don't be so stiff," Hiruzen waved a hand, chuckling. "Did I scare you?"
"Scare me?" Tonbo said, his voice trembling slightly. "I'm a Sensor Type, Lord Hokage. And you were breathing down my neck before I even knew you were there. I feel like I should hand in my forehead protector."
"Well," Hiruzen puffed on his pipe, "I am the Hokage. If a fresh graduate could spot me that easily, I'd be the one failing the test."
You old monster, Tonbo thought, sweating. Is this what the strongest Kage looks like? He feels like a void in the sensory field.
"Tell me," Hiruzen said, sitting on a rock. "Are you stuck on your jutsu? I might be old, but I can still offer a tip or two."
Tonbo hesitated. This is a golden opportunity.
"Actually, yes," Tonbo admitted. "I'm trying to develop a variant of the Yamanaka clan's Mind Transmission. Instead of reading thoughts, I want to project a specific neural signal to inhibit motor function."
He explained the theory of "Despair Pulse"—using chakra to mimic severe chemical depression, causing the enemy to simply give up mid-fight.
Hiruzen listened intently, his eyes sharpening.
"Fascinating," Hiruzen murmured. "You're applying medical theory to Genjutsu. But you're failing because a fish's brain is too simple. It operates on instinct, not emotion. To perfect a technique that targets the psyche... you need a human subject."
Tonbo nodded. "I figured. My 'Trauma Spike' only worked after I tested it on... enemy combatants."
"It's been a while since I stretched my legs," Hiruzen said, standing up and dusting off his robes. "I've been stuck behind that desk signing papers for weeks."
He smiled at Tonbo.
"Why don't you try it on me?"
Tonbo's jaw dropped. "Lord Hokage... that seems inappropriate. And dangerous."
"Hah! Dangerous to whom?" Hiruzen's eyes twinkled with a hint of steel. "Where the leaves dance, the fire burns. That is the Will of Fire my teachers entrusted to me. I see that fire in you, Tonbo. Don't hold back."
Tonbo swallowed hard.
"Understood."