The basement was eerily quiet, the only sound filling the space was Renjiro's ragged breath. The air felt dense, charged with the tension of what had just transpired. Renjiro sat on the cold stone floor, his back against the rough wall, beads of sweat still clinging to his brow.
His heartbeat, which had raced with the quick succession of strange events, was finally beginning to slow down. But his thoughts? They were spiralling, slipping further and further into the storm of confusion and unease.
He stared blankly at the blackened stone slab where Ohashi's body had just been moments ago. Now, it was nothing more than a pile of ash, the last remnants of what had once been a shinobi corpse.
The faint smell of charred flesh still lingered in the air, mixing with the damp, musty odour of the basement. Renjiro's mind raced, flipping between the vivid memory-reading that had felt more like a fever dream and the shocking sight of Ohashi's body bursting into flames.
"What the hell just happened?" Renjiro muttered to himself again. He couldn't shake the feeling of losing control. Everything that had transpired had been far from what he had expected. The sensation of being pulled into Ohashi's memories—if that's what they truly were—was unlike any jutsu he had ever performed.
And that scene, that endless loop of the old man and the boy, the natural energy techniques… it felt too real to be a simple dream, yet too surreal to be reality. His chest tightened at the thought.
'This isn't a dream, right?' Renjiro thought, the question reverberating in his mind.
The sensation of paralysis, the vividness of the memories—it all felt too visceral to be some kind of illusion. But the sheer absurdity of the situation made him second-guess. He clenched his fists, feeling the cool sweat on his palms.
"No," he quickly shut the thought down. The flames, the markings on Ohashi's body—those were real.
Renjiro's gaze flickered to the spot where the flames had consumed the body. He replayed the moments before the corpse ignited in his mind.
"Those seals..." he whispered under his breath, his eyes narrowing.
"They're definitely juinjutsu." His voice was tinged with irritation as he put the pieces together.
Juinjutsu, the cursed seals. He should've expected this from Ohashi, especially given the man's background. The Kurogane clan was notorious, their history shrouded in mystery with their techniques centred around the manipulation of natural energy.
Of course, someone like Ohashi would have taken precautions—measures to protect his mind, even after death. Renjiro cursed himself for not anticipating it.
"I should've expected this," Renjiro muttered again, shaking his head.
He should've known that Ohashi wouldn't be so careless as to leave his mind unprotected, even in death. The Kurogane clan's prowess in natural energy manipulation wasn't their only strength—cursed seals were often intertwined with their techniques.
Renjiro stood up, pacing around the room in short, deliberate steps. His thoughts were now running toward a new line of reasoning.
"I think I need to start learning juinjutsu," he said aloud, his voice firm with resolution.
"If I don't, I'll leave myself vulnerable."
He paused, glancing toward the burnt remains of Ohashi's body. "I don't want anyone harvesting my organs or studying my body when I die kinda like what I was about to do with Ohashi," Renjiro added, half-joking but with a serious undercurrent.
His lips twisted into a grim smile. The thought of someone, especially someone like Danzo or Orochimaru, getting their hands on his body after death made his skin crawl. He could already imagine the sick glee in Orochimaru's eyes, the gleam of fascination as the snake sannin dissected his body, probing every inch of his chakra systems for secrets.
"I can't let that happen," Renjiro thought, a shiver running down his spine.
His body held secrets—secrets he didn't want anyone to discover. His chakra itself was unique, tied to his unusual chakra seinou abilites. The last thing he needed was someone like Orochimaru getting his hands on it.
Renjiro's thoughts darkened as he considered the terrifying possibility of Orochimaru imitating his chakra capabilities, especially his regenerative ability.
"I can't imagine Orochimaru with my regeneration… or worse, with access to Sharingan," Renjiro mused.
He shook his head, unwilling to even entertain the thought any longer. It was too dangerous, too horrifying to consider.
Renjiro's mind shifted back to himself, to his own potential. He knew he had it. He was aware of the vast, untapped power inside of him, but at the same time, a nagging sense of inadequacy crept in.
Despite his power and the knowledge he had gained, there was always that small voice at the back of his mind reminding him of everything he had yet to learn, everything he had yet to master.
People like Orochimaru and Danzo—they were on a different level. Their experience in jutsu, their knowledge of the shinobi arts, dwarfed his own. They had lived entire lives immersed in the complexities of ninjutsu, taijutsu, and forbidden arts long before Renjiro had even been born, in both lives even.
He was still learning, still growing. And while his potential was vast, he feared that it might remain just that—potential. The fear that he wouldn't live up to it gnawed at him, making him question whether he could truly surpass the giants that came before him.
"Hopefully, things will change in the future," Renjiro muttered, attempting to console himself.
He knew he still had time—time to grow, to master the jutsu he needed. But that nagging fear, the fear of failing to fulfil his own expectations, lingered in the back of his mind like a shadow he couldn't shake.
Renjiro sighed, rubbing his temples as he tried to focus. "But enough of that," he muttered, pushing the self-doubt aside. He needed to focus on the present. On Ohashi. On what had just happened. There were still too many unanswered questions.
He glanced at the ashes again."If Ohashi went through so much trouble to protect his mind, then it stands to reason that he was hiding something," Renjiro said, his mind beginning to connect the dots.
"Something important."
He paced again, the sound of his footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor. "If he wanted to protect something valuable, wouldn't he have done so for his body as well?"
Renjiro wondered aloud, frowning. But Ohashi's body had burned away, leaving nothing but ash. That meant that whatever secrets Ohashi had been guarding weren't in his body.
Renjiro's eyes narrowed as the realization struck him. "Unless..." he began, his voice trailing off.
"Most of his secrets were in his mind. Because the seals would have done something to his body the minute he was killed, but his corpse was fine even after months passed since his death."
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Ohashi hadn't just been trying to protect his body—he had been protecting the information in his mind. The strange, looping memories that Renjiro had experienced—they had to be part of it. Some kind of safeguard, a way to obscure the truth from anyone who tried to probe too deeply.
"That explains the weird memories," Renjiro muttered to himself, piecing the puzzle together.
"They were fragments of something important—something he didn't want anyone to find."
Renjiro's thoughts drifted back to the old man in the memories, to the techniques he had demonstrated to the boy. Natural energy manipulation, techniques that seemed different than anything Renjiro had ever seen. He recalled the way the energy had flowed through the old man's body, the way it had shaped itself into controlled bursts of power.
"I guess it's safe to say that the techniques the old man showed are part of those secrets," Renjiro concluded, his eyes narrowing in thought.
Renjiro's gaze softened as he considered the possibilities. The techniques he had seen—if he could figure out how to use them, they could change everything. The old man's mastery over natural energy had been unlike anything Renjiro had ever encountered. It was different from the Senjutsu he had seen from the Sage Mode of the toads or eagles.
'Whether it will help master Senjutsu is still left to be seen.'
For a moment, Renjiro stood still, his mind racing. The potential was immense, but so were the risks. Natural energy was still dangerous to him, despite him building some resistance to it. But this was his last available option in dealing with his Senjutsu problem, so he had to take advantage of it.
"Maybe I should try it," Renjiro said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Renjiro clenched his fists, "It's worth the risk," he decided, his eyes narrowing with determination.
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