Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

The three men stood above the Hokage Rock, with Konoha spread below them in the afternoon light. 

Kakashi watched the village rather than Tonbo. ”Naruto needs a life of his own,” he said at last. ”I should not interfere merely because of who his father was.” 

Tonbo pursed his lips. That was no answer. He had hoped to hear something interesting. 

”If I had been Minato’s student, I would take the boy out whenever I could,” Tonbo said. 

”Then find what your book calls love and apply it,” Guy told Kakashi. 

The advice was delivered lightly. Guy believed in encouragement and companionship, but he would not interfere too much. People thought differently. 

Tonbo redirected the conversation before silence hardened. They compared their approaches to taijutsu, ninjutsu, and genjutsu, moving from principles to demonstrations and then to counters. It was one of the few ways the former classmates knew how to spend time together without a meal or a mission providing an excuse. 

All three had become jōnin young, but by different paths. Guy understood the body as a system of limits that could be trained, crossed, and paid for. Kakashi possessed breadth: elemental transformations, assassination methods, field command, and a Sharingan that let him perceive details others missed. Tonbo built around information—how it entered the senses, how the mind interpreted it, and how false certainty could be weaponized. 

No one won the discussion. All three left it harder to surprise. Tonbo had acquired his strength a little at a time. Hiruzen’s instruction, archived work from earlier shinobi, arguments with classmates, memories taken from enemies, and the act of teaching his own students had shaped him piece by piece. Isolation might preserve secrecy, but it also preserved mistakes. 

Individual thought could be brilliant. Knowledge tested among many people became durable. 

By evening, the three separated with sore muscles and several new ideas. Tonbo returned to his family. Kakashi found somewhere private to recover his book. Guy began the fifteen hundred kicks and eight hundred push-ups demanded by his lost race. 

That night, a pair of red tomoe appeared in the darkened Hokage’s office before Shisui stepped from the shadows and knelt. 

”Lord Hokage. I checked the clan records and current assignments. No senior Uchiha has left on a mission recently.” 

Hiruzen folded his hands over Tonbo’s report. Togekei had seen the masked attacker at close range. Hiruzen had also checked with Danzō’s subordinates. They agreed: the enemy possessed a Sharingan, intangibility, and Wood Release. 

The combination resembled the unanswered questions surrounding the Nine-Tails’ attack. The Uchiha had been watched, yet events repeatedly implicated their bloodline without identifying a culprit inside the clan. 

”Do the records show any branch living beyond Konoha?” Hiruzen asked. 

”None after the Warring States Period. The clan was smaller during the wars, with fewer survivors and clearer records. We have found no trace there either, though we cannot rule anything out.” 

Shisui kept his voice controlled. The unknown wielder had likely awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan and somehow acquired the First Hokage’s Wood Release. Those powers evoked Madara and Hashirama, the two men whose conflict had defined the village’s founding. One person possessing both would deepen every suspicion already directed at the Uchiha. 

Hiruzen tapped the desk. The possibilities remained dangerous. A clan member might have evaded surveillance. A lost bloodline could have survived elsewhere, as scattered Uzumaki had. Someone might have stolen or transplanted an eye. Orochimaru presented another route. During the war, bodies and eyes had gone missing despite Konoha’s recovery efforts, and Hiruzen’s former student had possessed both the knowledge and indifference required to experiment upon them. 

”You may go,” Hiruzen said. ”Keep watching for anything that could help.” 

”Yes, Lord Hokage.” 

Shisui vanished. 

The following morning, Tonbo filled the children’s room with Living Weave. Several small creatures took shape from layered material, each carrying a padded cradle upon its back. They drifted in slow circles while Tenyu and Maki laughed and reached toward one another whenever their paths crossed. 

Tonbo adjusted every turn to keep the motion gentle. The twins shrieked with delight at every turn. 

An ANBU appeared outside the room. 

”The Hokage requests your presence.” 

Tonbo looked from the messenger to his children. ”Naturally. The village sensed that I had begun enjoying myself.” 

He lowered the cradles, left the twins with Ayame, and went to the Hokage’s office. 

Hiruzen received him with tea and a question that sounded harmless. 

”How are you finding fatherhood?” 

”Surprisingly easy. Tenyu and Maki rarely cry without a reason. They recognized me as soon as I returned, they smile constantly, and they call out when they need the toilet. I expected considerably more chaos.” 

Hiruzen stared at him. 

His own household had help whenever missions pulled parents away, yet ten-month-old Konohamaru could defeat an entire rotation of attendants through persistence. The child seemed particularly fond of waiting until Hiruzen held him before producing the next disaster. 

”Easy,” Hiruzen repeated. 

”Very. Their clothes sometimes collect dust overnight, but I’ve observed them while they sleep and found nothing unusual.” 

At home, two unusually capable infants would have disputed the accuracy of that observation. 

Tonbo continued, unaware of the offense he was causing. ”Your grandson is a month older. I assume he is even easier to manage.” 

Hiruzen’s expression became still. 

”What?” 

”At that age, safety and routine are most of the work. Older children have plans. Naruto improvises trouble; Hana can already pursue it. Infants only require patience.” 

Hiruzen briefly wondered whether Tonbo’s children were supernatural or whether the universe had reserved every difficulty for Konohamaru. 

”Enough about children,” he said. ”I called you here on official business.” 

The sudden change of subject carried the dignity of a Hokage and the wounded pride of a grandfather.