The girls patched us up.
Eventually.
After they finished calling us idiots.
Repeatedly and with passion.
Kushina had a lot to say about the state of her snacks, which apparently counted as civilian casualties. Minato apologized with the solemn dignity of a man who had accepted full responsibility for the death of several bags of chips and sweets.
Yukino, meanwhile, examined my injuries with the exact same expression Lady Tsunade used whenever I claimed I was "mostly fine."
Which was unfair.
I was mostly fine.
The bleeding had stopped.
Probably.
"Hold still," Yukino said.
"I am holding still."
"You moved."
"I breathed."
"That counts."
"Since when?"
"Since you decided to get launched across a training ground by a Rasengan."
Fair.
I sat on the ground while Yukino wrapped my arm. Minato sat a few feet away while Kushina poked at a bruise on his forehead with absolutely no mercy.
"Ow," Minato said.
"Good," Kushina replied.
"You know, usually people try not to hurt injured people."
"Usually injured people don't try to blow up their best friend with an exploding chakra ball."
"He also tried to blow me up."
"That's not helping your case."
Minato looked at me.
I looked at him.
We both wisely said nothing.
Yukino finished tying the bandage around my arm and gave it one firm tug.
"Ow."
I had to work on fixing that pain point quick, especially since in a week we were supposed to be deployed, Minato probably had to return sooner than that too.
After the girls patched us up, it took me about a minute to get enough chakra back to actually work properly. My reserves were tapped, sure, but the Strength of a Hundred Seal on my forehead was full of two month's worth of channeled chakra. Using a little here didn't hurt.
This diamond brand funnily enough made people think I was related to Tsunade.
I pressed my palm to my own ribs and poured chakra from the seal inward. The bruises slowly vanished. Next was Minato. He didn't even as much as hiss when I pressed my hand against his battered shoulder and began healing him. Guess he couldn't in front of Kushina, the show off.
By the evening, we were in better shape. Still needed a proper night's rest, but we weren't bleeding or broken anymore, which was a major improvement. I'm uncertain whether the speed of recovery was due my own innate talent as a medical nin, the seal's work, or just me and Minato having weird physiques.
Mine in particular never made sense. At this point, I didn't even feel like I'd used the fifth gate earlier, normally there ought to be at least some sort of backlash, even if minor, but... I feel fine. It was the same after fighting Hanzo with the sixth gate too, though it took a little longer to recover then. Still no after effects though.
Weird.
As if to affirm my suspicions, Yukino spoke up. "This isn't natural," Yukino said with mock sternness as she watched us heal at a rate that would make a slug jealous. "It took me two months. You idiots are gonna get up and start running again in a day."
"You were stabbed through the stomach and nearly poisoned to death," I reminded her. "Plus, I dragged you across enemy territory for like a week before you could get proper treatment."
"True," she sighed. "But still. Can't you stay injured for a week? For my sanity?"
"Nope," I said cheerfully. "Medical ninjutsu go brr."
Kushina and Minato laughed, Yukino pouted at me. I wasn't sure what that was about but she flicked my forehead.
"Ouch!"
"If your Medical Ninjutsu can go brr or whatever, then just make sure you always stay healthy. Okay?"
I held my forehead where she flicked me and smiled. "I'll do my best, Yuki."
Kushina grinned. "Awww, how cute."
"What?" Me and Yukino said collectively.
The night passed. The lingering ache faded. By morning we were sore, hungry, and a little embarrassed that our supposed friendly spar had ended with half the training ground in ruins. Minato left early to report to Jiraiya. I stayed long enough to check the crater we'd created and to scribble an apology note for whoever had to fix the gouged-out hillside.
Around noon, we met up again. It was supposed to be a lazy day in the village, so we ended up sprawled in the shade of a tree not far from the training grounds, with Kushina recounting how she'd beat up two thugs for trying to steal from an old lady that morning. Minato listened politely while also leaning on his arms like an old man. Yukino's hair was down again, that by now iconic twisted strand on the left side catching the sunlight.
We dissolved into casual banter. We talked about Kushina's newly obtained obsession with Ichiraku ramen as today she'd swore she'd make Teuchi serve ramen at her and Minato's wedding, which shockingly got the guy to blush. I didn't know he had it in him. He even diverted the conversation elsewhere, mentioning the newest seals Kushina taught him.
I did sometimes take pointers from them about finer points of fuinjutsu, as it was a useful skill to master. Perhaps I'd give it more focus now that I'd gotten the Rasengan down.
Minato showed me a very electrifying use of it after all...
Plus, the Seal on my forehead was fuinjutsu. An insane one at that. If I could do more things of similar caliber I'd get even more weapons, so I'd ought to steal what I can from these two lovebirds.
Yukino seemed to enjoy their company too, though I sometimes felt their love birdie-ness was a bit much...
Then an ANBU appeared in front of me. Fox mask. Tall. Broad shoulders. He didn't speak immediately. He just looked down.
I sighed. "Let me guess. Hokage's office?"
He nodded. "Shirokumo is to go see the Lord Hokage." The anbu said and then his head tilted ever so slightly toward Minato, like he was acknowledging him too, before vanishing as quickly as he'd arrived.
"Not even letting you rest," Kushina said.
I stood and stretched, "I mean we did blow up a training ground, could be getting punished for that."
"It's probably because of the jutsu you made, else I'd be summoned too," Minato said, brow furrowing. "I showed it to Jiraiya sensei recently, and he later mentioned that Lord Hokage wanted to see it."
Kushina leaned forward, eyes wide. "Ooh, he's going to give you a reward for inventing a new Ninjutsu."
"Maybe he wants to confiscate it," I deadpanned. "'Hand over your Rasengan, boy. It's too dangerous to be left in your hands alone.' or the sort."
Yukino smacked me on the arm. "Don't. You know he wouldn't."
"Okay, okay," I said, grinning. "I'll go. Don't blow up the village while I'm gone."
"I'm not you..." Yukino said and sighed. "Since you'll be busy, I guess I'll go check up on Yahiko and Konan."
"I'm going to Ichiraku," Kushina announced. "Minato, you're buying me ramen."
He looked at her like he wanted to protest, then sighed and nodded.
...
The Third Hokage's office was as intimidating as ever. An enormous window overlooked the village. The three Hokage Mountain heads stared back at you when you walked in. Files and scrolls lay stacked in neat piles all around Hiruzen's desk. The man himself sat behind it in his robes and hat, pipe dangling between his fingers. Smoke drifted up in lazy curls. He looked up as I entered and gave me a warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Shirokumo," he said.
"Lord Hokage." I bowed.
"Thank you for coming on short notice."
"Lord Hokage," I said, and bowed. "I heard you wanted to see a jutsu."
"I have been hearing very interesting things from my ANBU," he said, eyes twinkling. "One of them described it as 'a ball of spinning chakra'. Another said you launched chakra like a ball of lightning and it blasted a crater in Training Ground Seven. Then, of course, there was the fight there yesterday." He chuckled softly. "You young people. Always trying to one-up each other."
"I mean hey, it was about time I put Minato in the dirt," I said. "We're rivals after all."
He laughed, actually laughed. "Yes, a healthy rivalry is good for the youth. When I was your age there were quite a few other lads my age who called themselves my rivals. But enough about that."
Hiruzen took a puff from his pipe. "It is no small thing to invent a technique. Both Jiraiya and Tsunade told me you were attempting something unusual with chakra control some time ago. At the time, I thought perhaps you were aiming for a high-level medical ninjutsu. Imagine my surprise when I see my ANBU reports that you have re‑created, no, created something akin to the Bijūdama in scale but on a human level."
"It's smaller," I argued. "And it doesn't explode. Normally."
He tapped his pipe against a small ashtray. "Show me."
I glanced at the walls of the office. There were scrolls, paintings, a map of the Fire Country, and one entire corner filled with stacks of paperwork. There was also, notably, a ceramic tea set perched perilously close to the edge of the desk.
"You want me to show you here?" I asked.
He raised an eyebrow. "You think you will level my office?"
"Not intentionally," I said. "But also, yes. I think the walls might not like it."
He hummed. "We will go to the forest, then. Come."
Hiruzen moved like he could teleport when he wanted to. One moment he was behind his desk; the next he was walking past me with the ease of a cat. I did follow his movements, but he was probably even faster than Minato. Unsurprising, given his Hokage status, but also shocking to see in person!
We walked out of the village proper and into the forest. Leaves rustled overhead. Sunlight filtered down in shafts. It was quiet save for birdsong. Hiruzen stopped in a clearing. He turned and held his hand out, palm up.
"Rasengan, it's called, I believe? Let's see it." he said.
I took a breath. My chakra flowed easily, swirling in my right palm. The steps were ingrained now: create rotation, add power, contain. The ball formed – dense, humming, a perfect sphere of spinning chakra. It glowed faintly blue in the afternoon light.
Hiruzen's eyes widened. "Such control," he murmured. "No hand signs. No leakage, pure shape transformation. High-density chakra rotation contained in a stable sphere." His eyes narrowed slightly. "The control required is extraordinary. If I hadn't seen it myself, I would not believe someone your age could manage this."
I shrugged, trying not to beam like an idiot. "It took me a while to develop, I admit."
"I imagine it did." He gestured. "Let me see its effect."
"Right."
I lowered my stance, then moved. Not full speed. No Gates. No lightning. Just normal Shirokumo. I drove the Rasengan forward into the first tree. The moment it connected, the bark twisted inward. Then exploded.
The Rasengan tore through the trunk, shredding wood into spiraling fragments. I pushed forward. The technique drilled through the first tree, then the second, then the third, carving a straight path through the line like a giant invisible auger had been dragged through the forest.
By the time I stopped, several trees lay shattered or split open, and a narrow clearing had been carved through the woods.
Wood chips rained down as leaves drifted through the air and I let the Rasengan disperse.
For a moment, Hiruzen simply stared at the path. Then he exhaled. "An A-rank technique at minimum."
I turned back. "At minimum?"
"Yes." His tone was firm now. Professional. "In destructive power, difficulty, and control requirements, it qualifies easily. Its lack of hand signs increases practical value significantly. Its flexibility may be even more important."
Hiruzen puffed on his pipe thoughtfully. "I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that, that's for sure."
"It can be quite the knock out maker, that's for sure."
He nodded. "Fascinating. And the other technique?"
I looked at the line of trees I'd felled. "I would prefer you stand back. Far back," I said. "It's…temperamental."
Hiruzen looked at me.
"How much farther?"
I glanced toward the newly formed clearing.
"More."
His expression did not change.
But he did take several steps back.
Smart man.
I formed a hand sign. "Shadow Clone Jutsu."
Two clones appeared beside me.
One clone raised his hand and began forming the Rasengan.
The other took position beside it, hands flickering through the signs for the Railgun technique.
Hiruzen's eyes sharpened immediately.
I lifted my own hand and shaped my fingers like a gun.
The clone finished the Rasengan.
The second clone pushed lightning chakra into the space around it.
Blue arcs snapped into place.
The Rasengan shuddered. The sphere began to vibrate violently, unstable lightning crawling across its surface as the rotation fought the charge. It was ugly. Dangerous. Very likely to explode.
Perfect.
Hiruzen's voice came from behind me. "That technique is unstable."
"Extremely."
"And you intend to fire it."
"Yep."
A pause. "Proceed."
I grinned.
The Professor was terrifying.
I aimed past the clearing.
Far past it.
The floating Rasengan trembled between the lightning field.
"Lightning Style: Rasengan Railgun." I muttered.
Then I fired.
The projectile vanished.
There was no visible arc.
No satisfying throw.
Just a violent crack, a streak of blue-white light, and the sudden pressure of air being split open. It blurred. One moment it was in front of me and the next it was two hundred metres away, a streak of blue that traveled in an instant.
Then detonated.
The explosion bloomed deep in the forest, blue light flashing between trees before a thunderous shockwave rolled back toward us. Branches snapped. Leaves tore free. Several trees launched upward, spinning like toys before crashing down in the distance.
A flock of birds erupted from the canopy and fled like they had just seen the end of the world.
Reasonable.
The clone beside me disappeared.
Poof.
The other clone looked at the destruction.
Then at me and said. "Still unstable."
"And working as intended."
"Terrifying."
"Also intended."
Poof.
He vanished too.
I turned back toward Hiruzen. The old man was silent. Very silent. His eyes remained fixed on the distant plume of dust rising from the forest. For a long moment, I wondered if I had gone too far.
Then he spoke. "That is not an A-rank technique."
I swallowed. "...No?"
"No." His gaze returned to me. "That variant is S-rank in practical danger, if not in instability."
I scratched the back of my head. "Well, it's a patched up work at best, something to use until I figure out how to actually stabilize the Rasengan with an elemental release."
"Can it be stabilized?"
"Not yet."
"Do you know why? Or are the reasons uncertain of yet?"
"Yeah. I honestly don't know. The base Rasengan holds fine. The moment I try to actually fuse elemental nature into the structure, however, everything goes wrong." I looked toward the wreckage. "The lightning enters, sure, but it doesn't stay. It fights the rotation. The result is usually… that."
"An explosion."
"Violent one."
Hiruzen stroked his beard slowly.
"Fascinating."
"That's one word."
"It is also dangerous."
"That's another."
"I am tempted to classify it as forbidden."
"Please don't."
He gave me a dry look.
I shut up.
Mostly.
Hiruzen looked toward the destroyed forest again. "Stable elemental variants should be possible in theory. The base technique is pure shape transformation. If one could perfectly balance nature transformation within that structure…" His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "The result would likely exceed far A-rank. Maybe even most normal S-ranks, depending on the nature and application."
I sighed. "Good news. The theory agrees with me."
"And the bad news?"
"The technique hates me."
Hiruzen smiled faintly. "It may hate everyone."
"Comforting."
His gaze shifted back to me. "Your use of Shadow Clones is particularly impressive."
I blinked. "My clones?"
"Yes. Using additional bodies to separate the formation of the technique from the stabilization and elemental manipulation." He nodded slowly. "Most shinobi think of clones as distractions, scouts, or numbers. You are using them as extra hands. Extra minds. Distributed control."
I tried very hard not to think about a blond idiot in another timeline using hundreds of clones to brute force techniques that should have been impossible.
Technically, I had stolen the idea from him.
Morally?
Time was complicated.
"Thank you," I said.
"It is a brilliant application."
I coughed lightly. "Thank you again."
He studied me a moment longer, then turned back toward the village. "I have seen enough."
That sounded ominous.
But apparently it was good ominous.
We walked back toward the village slowly. The sun had shifted overhead, light filtering through the trees in long golden streaks. For a while neither of us spoke.
Then Hiruzen said, "Ingenuity is one of the Leaf's greatest strengths."
I glanced at him.
He continued, "New techniques, new methods, new ways of seeing old problems. These things matter. They keep the village alive."
His tone had changed.
Less professor.
More Hokage.
"You have created something valuable."
I immediately stiffened. "Hokage-sama, I'm not giving the village the Rasengan."
Hiruzen stopped.
Then laughed.
Not chuckled.
Laughed.
Full old-man laugh.
It echoed through the trees.
I stared.
He wiped at one eye. "I did not ask you to."
"You were building up to something."
"I was building up to a reward."
"Oh."
Now I felt mildly stupid.
He smiled. "Even if I did ask, I suspect few shinobi could learn it without years of dedication. Minato is certainly an exception, and perhaps a handful of others could learn it quick too. But no, Shirokumo. I am not here to take your technique."
"Good."
"Though the village will record its existence."
"Expected."
"And its creator."
I paused.
Creator.
That word felt strange.
Because I wasn't.
Not really.
Not originally.
But here?
In this life?
With these hands?
With these failures?
With four years of stubbornness and exploding balloons and a ridiculous amount of self-inflicted misery?
Maybe I was.
Kind of.
Hiruzen looked at me. "You have earned a reward."
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it.
A reward.
Right.
He wanted me to name something.
My mind went blank for a second.
Reward.
Right.
What did I want?
Did I need Money? As much as I hate to say it, war pays well, and I'm in no shortage... As long as Yahiko and Konan don't start eating even more at Ichiraku's.
Weapons? I don't really use them much. My fists and wire are enough amongst the standard ninja toolbox.
A Jutsu maybe? But I already had the shadow clones, the Eight Gates, Rasengan, Strength of a Hundred Seal, and even the Lightning Dragon which Yukino taught me since she'd already gotten it off Hiruzen. I don't think I need another jutsu right now.
Edo Tensei came to mind.
Immediately.
I mentally grabbed that thought and threw it off a cliff.
Absolutely not.
Not unless I wanted Hiruzen to either kill me on the spot or start asking questions I could not answer.
Maybe a Lightning release instructor? That had merit.
A proper Lightning Release specialist could help me reverse engineer the Raikage's cloak faster. Maybe teach me things I hadn't figured out yet.
But…
No.
I could do that myself with enough time.
Probably.
Besides, there was something else.
Then the memory of my parents came back. The headbands I'd found in their room recently. Proof that they had been shinobi. Proof that someone had lied, or maybe simply never told me.
Yeah, perhaps I didn't need much right now, but what I wanted most was answers surrounding that mystery.
My fingers curled slightly. I looked up at Hiruzen. "I want information."
The smile faded from his face. Not completely. But enough. "What information?"
"About my parents."
Silence.
The forest suddenly felt much quieter.
Hiruzen's gaze sharpened.
Then softened.
Very slowly.
"So," he said quietly. "You found out."
My throat tightened.
"Found out what?"
"That they were shinobi."
I stared at him.
He knew.
Of course he knew.
The Hokage knew everything that mattered in his village.
Or at least he was supposed to.
"They had headbands," I said. "Scratched ones."
Hiruzen closed his eyes for a moment.
When he opened them again, he looked older.
Much older.
"Yes."
My chest felt strange.
Tight.
Hollow.
"Who were they?"
He did not answer immediately.
That scared me more than if he had.
We continued walking until we reached a quieter part of the forest, far from the path. Hiruzen stopped near a large tree and leaned against it. His voice gentler now. "Shirokumo…I had hoped… Never mind." He rubbed his temples. "Sit. This will take a minute."
I sat cross‑legged in the grass.
"When you were born," he began, "your parents were already residents of Konoha. They had been here for…six, almost seven months prior to your birth."
I swallowed. "I was born here?"
"Yes. That is correct."
So I was Konoha-born.
But not Konoha-blooded.
That shouldn't have mattered.
It did anyway.
People had called me clanless for years.
Talentless.
Nobody.
Orphan.
Outsider.
But
Konoha was my home.
Yahiko and Konan were from Ame, and they were becoming Konoha in their own way.
Minato had no clan, and he was more Leaf than half the idiots waving clan banners around.
Yukino was Hyūga, and she was still Yukino before anything else.
Blood mattered.
But it wasn't everything.
"Your parents lived near the outskirts, took odd jobs, kept to themselves. They were not well liked by everyone; some looked down on them because of their accent, their origin. But they never caused trouble. They worked hard. They raised you quietly. They paid their taxes. To all appearances, they were civilians."
"To all appearances," I repeated.
He nodded. "It wasn't until after they died that certain…details came to light."
"Right."
His eyes met mine. "Their shinobi past only came to light."
That sounded wrong.
Not entirely.
But enough.
A carefully placed sentence.
A smooth stone covering something buried underneath.
I didn't press.
Not yet.
"But since they were outsiders, do you know where they were from?"
Hiruzen exhaled slowly. "They came from Kirigakure."
Mist.
The Hidden Mist.
Kirigakure.
My parents had come from the Mist.
Not Konoha.
Not some nameless civilian line.
The Mist.
I thought of the scratched headbands.
I thought of how little I knew about my own blood.
"Why?" I asked.
"They defected."
The word hit harder than expected.
Defected.
Not retired.
Not relocated.
Defected.
"They wished to leave the life of shinobi behind," Hiruzen continued. "They wanted peace. Safety. A life where they did not have to fight to survive."
My hands clenched. "So they came here."
"Yes."
"Why Konoha?"
"That remains unclear." Hiruzen looked toward the village beyond the trees. "Perhaps because civilian life here was calm. Perhaps because the Leaf was strong enough to deter pursuit. Perhaps because they believed their child could have a future here."
Their child.
Me.
Did they want to protect me?
Still.
Mist.
My parents were Mist.
Of all the things he could have said, that one struck somewhere deep and stupid and vulnerable.
I looked away.
The trees blurred for a second.
Annoying.
Must have been dust.
Forest dust.
Very common.
Hiruzen said nothing.
Good.
If he had, I might have embarrassed myself.
Eventually I forced the words out. "How did they die? Actually."
The silence returned. Heavier this time. "They were killed."
I looked back at him. "By who?"
His jaw tightened slightly. "I apologize Shirokumo, that is yet Unknown."
Liar.
The thought came fast.
Immediate.
Not because I had proof. Because I had spent too long around shinobi and I knew from my past life how this world operated and "unknown" was too clean.
Too convenient.
But I didn't call him on it.
Not now.
Maybe because part of me was afraid he would answer.
Maybe because part of me wasn't ready.
Maybe because I still had enough sense not to accuse the Hokage of lying in the middle of a forest after demonstrating an S-rank explosive technique.
"They left no enemies behind?" I asked.
"They were defectors," Hiruzen said. "Defectors always have enemies."
"So Mist?"
"Possibly."
Another careful answer.
I stared at him.
He stared back.
There was more.
I knew there was more.
But the old man wasn't going to give it to me.
Not today.
My reward had limits.
Apparently.
I looked down at my hands.
Hands that had learned the Rasengan.
Hands that could heal wounds.
Hands that had killed.
Hands that belonged to someone whose parents came from a village I had never seen.
Hiruzen seemed to follow my thoughts. "I am sorry."
I looked up. "For what?"
"For not telling you sooner."
I didn't know how to answer that.
Part of me wanted to snap.
To ask why.
To demand what right he had.
Another part understood.
I had been a child.
An orphan.
A talentless academy failure with no clan and no strength.
What would knowing have changed?
Would it have helped?
Or would it have just given me another wound to carry?
I hated that I didn't know.
Eventually I exhaled. "Thank you."
Hiruzen's eyes widened slightly.
Maybe he expected anger.
Fair.
I did too.
"Not for hiding it," I said. "For telling me now."
He nodded once. "You earned the truth."
Not all of it.
But enough.
For now.
I looked toward Konoha.
The village sat beyond the trees, peaceful beneath the afternoon sun.
My home.
Still my home.
Even if my blood began somewhere else.
Even if my parents had crossed a sea of war and suspicion to reach it.
Even if people had never respected them.
Even if they died here.
They had chosen this place.
For me.
That mattered.
Probably more than I wanted it to.
Hiruzen turned to leave. Then paused. "Shirokumo."
"Hm?"
He looked back at me. "Your parents would be proud of you."
No great revelation.
Just an old man in a forest saying something I hadn't known I needed to hear.
My throat tightened again.
Damn forest dust.
I looked away. "Yeah?"
"Yes."
A long silence passed.
Then I nodded.
Once.
Small.
"Good."
Hiruzen did not push.
He simply began walking back toward the village.
I followed after a moment.
My thoughts were louder than the forest.
Kirigakure.
Defectors.
Shinobi.
Parents who loved me.
Parents who died for reasons nobody wanted to fully explain.
The Rasengan had been a goal for four years.
A weight.
A promise I made to myself before I even understood why.
Now it was done.
And in its place, something older had opened.
Something buried.
Something waiting.
I didn't know what I was going to do with the truth. Or at least the third of it I'd obtained.
Not yet.
For now, I had missions.
War.
And somewhere behind all of that, a question that wouldn't leave me alone. Who were my parents really? And why did I feel like the answer was going to hurt?