Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

The earth rose around Shikamaru’s team.

”Earth Release: Earth Prison Dome!”

Spider silk tightened across the remaining openings, but Neji saw the trap a heartbeat before it closed. The pursuers leaped clear as the earthen walls crashed together behind them.

”Leave this one to me,” Chōji said. ”You keep chasing Sasuke.”

Shikamaru looked at his oldest friend, then nodded.

”All right. We are counting on you.”

He trusted Chōji completely. Everyone who had endured Tonbo’s battlefield simulation understood what it meant to die a thousand times and review every mistake afterward. In the weeks since then, the genin had trained to repair the weaknesses the illusion exposed. Given more time to absorb those experiences before the Chūnin Exams, several of them might already have earned promotion.

Chōji was the teammate Shikamaru knew best. He also carried the Akimichi clan’s final trump card.

Their years together supplied details no mission file could contain. Shikamaru knew how Chōji breathed when frightened, how anger changed his stance, and how stubbornly he protected anyone who trusted him. The seriousness in his voice meant that he had already weighed the danger. Arguing would spend the seconds he had chosen to buy.

Jirōbō had no intention of letting the others escape. Dark markings spread across his face as he activated the first level of the Cursed Seal. He hurled a fan of shuriken at Naruto and Shikamaru.

”Partial Expansion Jutsu!”

Chōji’s left hand expanded until it covered the path. One sweep knocked every weapon aside and drove them into trunks and soil.

Shikamaru’s group vanished deeper into the forest.

”Your opponent is me.”

Chōji settled into complete focus. Memories of simulated deaths sharpened his attention instead of frightening him.

In those illusions he had rushed, hesitated, chased bait, and protected the wrong target. Each failure ended with pain convincing enough to engrave the lesson in his body. Now he watched Jirōbō’s shoulders, hands, feet, and lines of sight at once. The enemy could be stronger. That did not mean every technique would surprise him.

Jirōbō snorted. ”Then I will crush you first and catch the others afterward.”

He formed seals and raised an earthen golem nearly seven meters tall. With a turn of his body, he sent the mass rolling across the forest floor.

”Expansion: Double Palm Push!”

Chōji’s hands became enormous. Chakra surged through both arms, and his shove shattered the golem into slabs of mud and stone.

Jirōbō’s voice came from beyond the debris.

”The fight is over.”

A circular wall closed around Chōji and sealed him in darkness. Jirōbō smiled at the finished Earth Prison Dome. A mere genin had challenged him and been captured in moments.

Wind rushed behind him.

Jirōbō started to turn, but an expanded palm struck his back with terrifying force. Bone and flesh ruptured. Blood scattered through the air, and an explosive tag adhered to the wound as he flew.

The Chōji inside the prison had been a clone. His original slipped beyond the unfinished wall while the golem obscured Jirōbō’s sight.

He had already swallowed the green Spinach Pill from the Akimichi medicine box. The sudden release of strength made the ambush strong enough to kill an ordinary opponent.

Chōji had taken it before committing to the decoy. The pill’s power let his original circle the dome quickly enough to arrive behind Jirōbō while the enemy still believed him trapped. The plan depended on one decisive strike; a prolonged exchange would only reveal the medicine and allow Jirōbō to adapt.

”I noticed that prison when you first used it against the squad,” Chōji said. ”Those marks on your body enhance your physical abilities. But after taking that strike directly, you will be crippled even if you survive.”

The explosive tag ignited.

Chōji moved away before the blast. Smoke, blood, and pieces of torn earth filled the clearing. He let out a breath and prepared to rejoin the others.

”Damn... you...”

The voice stopped him.

Jirōbō stepped from the smoke in a monstrous second form. Yellow hair covered part of his transformed body, and a hard, hornlike layer spread across the wound on his back. The Cursed Seal had kept him alive.

The flesh beneath that armor was still ruined. Jirōbō moved because the transformed state forced damaged muscle to answer and poured new strength through a body that should have fallen. Chōji understood that survival did not mean the opening attack had failed completely. If he could outlast the transformation, its hidden damage might finish the work.

”I am going to kill you.”

He crossed the clearing almost before Chōji saw him move.

”Stone Strike!”

His fist hit a log. Chōji reappeared several paces away as the Substitution broke apart.

Jirōbō stared. He had not seen the seals.

Chōji had begun forming them the moment his enemy spoke. That anticipation saved him once. The transformed Jirōbō was too fast for Chōji to rely upon it again.

He opened the medicine box. Only the yellow Curry Pill and red Chili Pill remained. Without hesitating, he swallowed yellow.

The battlefield simulations had taught him to recognize when an opponent’s strength had moved beyond the plan. Jirōbō’s transformation made him almost a different person. Refusing to respond because the medicine was dangerous would only let the enemy kill him before the risk mattered.

The choice was not calm. Chōji remembered his father’s warnings, the strain each pill placed upon the body, and the certainty attached to the last one. He swallowed anyway. A ninja who spent too long mourning the cost of an available weapon could die with it still in his hand.

Jirōbō attacked again.

Chōji expanded one arm to block. The Curry Pill filled his body with new vitality, but the punch still sent him flying. Pain tore through his forearm.

”Secret medicine?” Jirōbō saw the last pill in the open box. ”I will not let you take another.”

Chōji formed seals.

”Super Expansion Jutsu!”

His body rose above the trees until Jirōbō looked no larger than an insect. The yellow pill gave him enough chakra to use a technique normally beyond his reach. He brought both hands down in a strike combined with Double Palm Push.

The impact he expected never came.

A second mud golem rose beneath him, only a third smaller than his expanded body. It caught both palms. The softened earth clung to his skin and began draining chakra through the point of contact.

”Being large does not make you powerful,” Jirōbō said. ”My golem will hold you until it drains everything.”

Chōji tried to pull away. The golem stretched without releasing him, swallowing the energy provided by the Curry Pill.

Panic tightened his chest. Even after his first ambush and the yellow pill, Jirōbō had found an answer.

Chōji ended the Super Expansion. His body shrank out of the golem’s grasp, and he fell hard to the ground. The escape worked, but most of the renewed chakra was gone.

His hand closed around the red pill.

Jirōbō advanced behind the mud golem, certain that the chakra drain had decided the battle. Chōji could no longer match his speed with ordinary movement. Retreat would expose Shikamaru’s back, and delay without power would last only until the next punch.

”Shikamaru, I am still not as clever as you. I can only give this everything I have.”

From the moment Jirōbō survived the first attack and transformed, Chōji had suspected that victory would require the Chili Pill. He delayed only because he understood what it could cost. Now no other path remained.

He swallowed it.

The pill converted the energy stored throughout his body into chakra. Exhaustion disappeared beneath a greater, more dangerous power. Luminous butterfly wings spread from his back while every remaining reserve condensed for battle.

Jirōbō stared. Chōji’s decisions and substitutions displayed experience far beyond his age, yet Orochimaru’s power still filled him with confidence.

The red pill took more than fat. Chōji felt his muscles empty themselves to sustain the chakra wings, felt the strength that should have lasted hours compress into moments. There would be no second battle after this one. Victory had to fit inside the brief life of the transformation.

Earth gathered around his body as he prepared to meet the final attack.