Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

Tonbo followed openly along Konoha’s main street. Unseen Presence caused eyes and attention to pass over him; pedestrians adjusted their paths without consciously registering why, while Anko and Togekei remained unaware of the man a few paces behind them. 

They sampled dango from one stall, sweet red-bean soup from another, and skewers from a third. Togekei paid each time. Tonbo began to question whether he had introduced a promising companion or an efficient threat to his student’s new salary. 

The first awkwardness gradually faded. Togekei offered more than one sentence at a time. Anko still chose their direction and most of the subjects, but he had begun to tease her in return. Whatever the outcome, neither appeared miserable. 

”You are yielding the initiative,” Tonbo muttered. ”When I courted Ayame, I had a plan.” 

Watching them stirred a gentler recollection. Seven years had passed since Tonbo entered the shinobi world as an eleven-year-old Academy graduate with more knowledge than strength. He had survived a war, worked among memories of the dead, taught a genin team, infiltrated an enemy village, married, and become a father. The life no longer felt borrowed or provisional. Its ordinary moments had accumulated until they outweighed the disasters surrounding them. 

Something familiar entered his perception. Hijiri Shimon walked on the other side of the street, holding a young woman’s hand. They shared a skewer, laughed, and leaned into one another with an ease Tonbo had never seen from his former teammate. 

That explained Shimon’s recent absences from the office and his lack of temporary assignments. Tonbo looked from Anko and Togekei to the happier mystery across the road. His duty as matchmaker had been fulfilled. Professional concern for a subordinate now demanded investigation. 

He changed course without releasing Unseen Presence. 

”You are the only person I want beside me,” Shimon was saying. 

The woman kissed his cheek and offered a small wrapped parcel. ”I brought you something. Don’t laugh.” 

”I would never.” 

”I thought you said you didn’t intend to marry. What changed?” 

Shimon smiled. ”A colleague in the Analysis Team spent years being insufferably happy in front of me. At first I wanted to find someone simply so I could return the favor. Then I met you, and his reaction stopped mattering.” 

”We could visit him together and make it matter again.” 

”You would do that for me?” 

Tonbo turned away with a sour expression. There was no need to visit; he had seen quite enough. Besides, he already had children. Shimon would always be a step behind. 

The afternoon’s curiosity satisfied, Tonbo headed for Konoha Hospital. The medical complex served civilians as well as shinobi, though mission injuries gave it a military rhythm. Tonbo knew its less public routes. The Analysis Team examined brains and bodies for intelligence, reconstructed causes of death, and identified enemy methods; afterward, Konoha’s mortuary specialists received the remains for final preparation. That relationship granted him legitimate access to medical archives beyond ordinary first aid. 

He had come to study physiology. Self-Repair combined medical knowledge with genjutsu. Tonbo needed to understand each part of the body he deceived; the better that understanding, the more precisely he could act and the less chakra he consumed. 

Deceiving the whole body cost more chakra and pressed against what the body could endure. Healing still required energy. A more targeted technique could reduce that cost. 

Tonbo wanted to build an entire combat discipline upon that principle—an Illusion Body method that altered his own physical performance without placing chakra where an enemy could absorb or dispel it. Against Hiruko’s Dark Release, the Preta Path’s absorption, or the Six Paths forms of Obito and Madara, physical attacks could still be effective. A technique acting on Tonbo himself offered a way to face such enemies, including the Ōtsutsuki. 

The method required a map far more exact than instinct. 

Seven years earlier, experimentation upon his own organs would have been stupidity. He had therefore developed external sensory genjutsu, Psycho Mind Transmission, and Living Weave first. His sensory genjutsu had become mature enough that, combined with his other techniques, it was more than sufficient against an ordinary jōnin. He could now turn to the work he had postponed. 

Sage Mode offered another path, but Tonbo had no way to learn it. Natural energy punished error by transforming the practitioner into stone. With a father, wife, and children depending upon him, blind experimentation was not courage. 

His own field still contained room to grow. The Kurama bloodline suggested that sufficiently complete illusion could drive physical consequence. Izanagi and Izanami demonstrated that ocular genjutsu could impose rules upon perception and outcome far beyond ordinary sensory tricks. Living Weave already gave information temporary form. None supplied a finished answer, but together they pointed toward one. 

He reached the medical records office, presented his authorization as Analysis Team leader, and requested anatomical studies related to trauma, motor control, and chakra pathways. The archivist addressed him as *sir* and brought the first stack without argument. 

Medical knowledge spread across disciplines too broad for one afternoon. Tonbo began with the nervous system and soon forgot the passage of time. 

In the capital of the Land of Fire, an elite guard unit assembled beneath banners marked with the character for fire. Their uniforms varied by specialty, but every shinobi wore the same armband of the daimyō’s service. 

Asuma stood before them with Chiriku. 1

”Congratulations,” the monk said. ”After four years, you are finally visiting home.” 

They had known each other for four years, their friendship forged in battles fought side by side. Missions and loss had replaced the anger with which Asuma left Konoha. He lit a cigarette and looked over the team he would lead to the village. 

”It took me long enough,” he said. ”But I think I finally understand what deserves protection.”