Of course, studying martial arts and various practices, like those studied by Tibetan monks, expands human capabilities, but where are they and where is the ordinary person, able to witness such 'miracles' only through a screen? It doesn't inspire much confidence. Now, take this very ordinary person (albeit a bit stubborn and strong-willed) and place them in a world where what was once considered 'magic' from fairy tales is accessible, and personal achievements depend solely on you.
The possibilities for self-improvement are practically limitless and tangibly felt... The conclusions from such an action are quite obvious, though not readily apparent. In simpler terms, it's either madness with denial of an entirely foreign reality or a drug addict with a slightly 'leaky' roof. Well, or an intermediate state, the difference isn't particularly significant.
Looking back, I have to admit that my roof started leaking from the moment I gained access to chakra and made my first seals by hand. Ryuta's near-death confirmed the danger of this world, and the attack on the way to Uzushiogakure only strengthened the emerging 'philosophy of power,' quite familiar to local residents but elevated to a new height in my case, slowly but surely turning into an obsession.
Knowing exactly what the local Kage and other S-Class monsters were doing a quarter-century ago and what will happen in the not-so-distant future only worsened the condition of my already somewhat unhealthy mind, while mastering Kage Bunshin no Jutsu brought desires into balance with available capabilities, with no major consequences for health (physical, regarding the rest it's quite clear).
It's rather sad to realize the sliding of one's own roof as the conclusions are drawn, but considering it as something entirely normal and natural. And the clear attainment of results only spurs on. But the last 'straw that broke the camel's back' turned out to be Saya's injury, which I collected with my own hands from a bloody mess.
Considering that in the past world, a person with such injuries turned into a corpse faster than drowning in a cast iron kettle, I finally turned into a maniac of self-improvement at the expense of even simple relationships with others and breaks, subsequently replacing the latter with 'active rest' as a way to relieve accumulating tension.
In all reasonableness, outside help is needed here, but I won't go to Yamanaka even under the threat of madness, let alone a small 'phase shift,' so after prolonged brainstorming in twenty copies (me and clones), it was decided to do almost nothing — after all, it's better to have an obsession with a not-so-strong roof and dominate everyone than to end up as one of the dead losers.
Besides, I haven't turned into a soulless machine over all these years, so there's no need to panic, and as for everything else... Well, a slight adjustment to my schedule should help, as well as a firm intention to spend more time with loved ones, I have enough willpower for that.
Of course, in my free time, thoughts on this topic haunt me, but I try to accept them as a given. After all, I am only human and am entitled to have some weaknesses. And the thought of a small distance from madness to genius warms me. The main thing is not to have it the other way around and to pay more attention to the opinions of others — more chances to pass for a stubborn but normal shinobi. Moreover, if I realize it, then not everything is so bad.
— 'Do you take individual orders?' — someone's voice distracted me from drawing a seal and contemplating.
Raising my eyes, I found another jonin (who made up the bulk of customers) with the Uchiha clan mark on the left sleeve in standard shinobi gear of that rank standing before the counter. Only the handle of a sword sticking out from behind the shoulder and a thin horizontal scar above the left eyebrow, running from the middle of the forehead to the temple, stood out.
A typical dark-haired and black-eyed possessor of the Sharingan, slightly over thirty, but according to my sensory abilities, stronger and more experienced than the majority of jonin seen. I had had time to learn to distinguish such people from the others. A shinobi who had lived to such an age by definition cannot belong to the gray mass.
— 'Unfortunately, no,' I shook my head.
— 'What's the reason? As far as I remember, the Uzumaki were quite successful in taking on orders, in addition to simply selling seals,' the Uchiha raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
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