[A/N] The use of Whisper will be notated by brackets and italics moving forward.
The last chapter was an OMAKE (bonus chapter), just so I could have fun writing. I will always release a more substantial chapter alongside the OMAKE for you all, so you feel fulfilled. You can turn your brain off while reading OMAKE's and just vibe, lol.
Happy reading!
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Well, yesterday was quite… eventful.
My afternoon was filled with chasing Taro around the compound—trying to stop him from committing suicide by pizza—while Mom was trapped in a food coma.
Of course, I could have mind transferred into his body, but I let him have his fun.
I expected the food to be good, but I didn't expect it to be that good.
If I could serve dishes like that, I might just be able to solve half the village's problems.
Madara wants to cast Infinite Tsukuyomi? I'll serve him a plate of inarizushi and he might just reconsider.
Danzo plotting to destroy the Uchiha? Serve him an octopus tentacle soaked in feces and vomit. Hopefully, he'll keel over and die.
Tsunade refusing to return to the village? Maybe I just need to brew her the finest vodka from scratch. She'll be hooked before she even realizes it.
For a moment, I entertained the thought of trading my shinobi life for that of a chef, using knives in a different way. But no, not yet. There are other skills to master, other talents I need to cultivate. Besides, cooking was just another tool in the arsenal.
As I slid open the door to the library, I was greeted by something unexpected.
Five sets of eyes locked onto me. Five pairs of eyes that belonged to five of the most powerful figures in the Yamanaka clan—five elders, including Akira, seated around a table in the library.
I bowed immediately, my spine bending in a sharp 90-degree angle.
"Greetings, elders."
I could feel their sharp eyes assessing me.
###
"There are currently five elders in the clan," mom once told me. "As you know, Akira is one of them. The other four…" She paused as she searched for words that accurately represented them. "If you ever meet them, you must show the utmost respect. They are—were all powerhouses in their own right."
###
She was right.
The pressure that bore into me from just about every angle was palpable: one was thick and muddy, weighing me down; another was sharp, needle-like; one felt critical; the last one… the last one was feral. Wild. Like I was standing in front of a beast.
Is this killing intent? I wondered, filing away the sensation for later study. Useful, if I could learn to replicate it.
The silence was deafening. I couldn't help but think, did I do something wrong?
Three seconds passed.
Then six.
No one spoke, and I kept my gaze firmly on the floor, wondering if I'd misstepped somehow.
And finally, a deep laughter broke the silence.
Laughter so deep, so primal, it made me flinch.
"You bow like you're in the presence of Kami himself, kid!" boomed a voice, rich and baritone, rolling through the room like thunder. "I'm not mad at it, though. Respect."
The laugh echoed, shaking the walls of the library, and I forced myself not to look up, not to scowl. Was this some sort of test? I stayed bowed, feeling their gazes pressing harder against my back.
"Impressive. You may stand," came another voice—calm, measured, authoritative.
The pressure instantly vanished, and I straightened up slowly, carefully. My eyes quickly scanned the room, finally daring to meet theirs.
Starting from the left was Elder Haruto. He was the one who'd laughed, an ancient bear of a man with wild blond hair and a grin as broad as his shoulders. Despite his age, he looked like he could crush me with just a thought—being a Yamanaka, he probably could.
Next to him sat Elder Nao, thin and wiry. His eyes, sharp slits that seemed to pierce right through me.
Elder Daiki was impossible to miss. Scarred, muscular, feral. His arms were crossed over his chest, his gaze unblinking, predatory. He looked like he didn't belong here—in this library. He belonged in war, that's probably where all of his scars came from.
Then, Elder Masaru. Broad-shouldered, with a full head of salt-and-blond hair and a calm presence that felt almost out of place among the others. He hadn't said a word, but his fingers drummed a slow rhythm against his chair, watching.
And finally, Akira. She gave me a small nod—barely noticeable, but enough. Her way of telling me I wasn't about to be thrown to the wolves. Not yet, anyway.
They were all old—practically ancient based on this world's lifespan for shinobi—but they all held vast knowledge. Countless years of experience. Of lives taken.
"Akira says you've created something… new," Nao spoke, his voice dry, like leaves crumbling in autumn. "Something that could alter the course of this war. Of this clan. Is that correct?"
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. So that's why they were here. Makes sense.
"I did create a genjutsu, Nao-sama," I started, not failing to add: "My intention was for it to be as beneficial as possible for those who would use it."
Those who would use it. My words were deliberate, precise, ambiguous. I saw a flicker of understanding in Elder Masaru's eyes.
I hadn't specified who I intended the jutsu for—the clan, the village, or someone else. A careful omission. I wasn't about to hand them everything on a silver platter.
Akira and Masaru exchanged a glance, a silent conversation that lasted less than a heartbeat. She turned back to me, expression as unreadable as ever.
"Boy." Even after all this time, she still called me that. I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything else. Akira isn't one to coddle. And that's fine. I didn't need coddling.
"Show them."
"Yes, Akira-sama," I replied, my hands moving through the familiar sequence of hand seals. I've practiced the jutsu enough that I no longer require hand signs—rather, the jutsu was simple enough that anyone who practices it will be able to cast it without hand signs.
But since it's a demonstration, it was best to go through the motions.
It's one of the fascinating things about chakra. Once you understand the exact way to mold it, hand signs become little more than a formality. Most shinobi can, at best, reduce the number of seals they need. But me? With enough time and practice, I should be able to perform any jutsu without hand signs.
I finished the last hand sign, and my chakra moved as calmly as still water.
[Hello, Elders,] I transmitted, feeling the genjutsu ripple outward. [This is the technique I created. I call it Whisper.]
Silence followed. I watched as the realization dawned on each of their faces.
Akira's lips twitched into a smile, obviously proud of her protege.
Nao's eyes widened, Daiki blinked, his brows drawing together as if trying to find the trick hidden beneath the surface.
Masaru—calm, always calm—stopped his rhythmic tapping, fingers hovering in mid-air. He was the first to speak, his gaze sharp, appraising.
"How long did it take you to develop this?"
"Three weeks." My tone was even, unruffled. I knew the answer would surprise them, but I also knew it was best to deliver it without the slightest hint of arrogance. Just a fact.
Haruto muttered something under his breath, scratching his beard. Nao leaned forward, a gleam of something like excitement in his snake-like eyes. Daiki didn't speak—just nodded.
"This…," Nao's voice held a faint tremor. "This is something else."
Elder Haruto leaned forward. "Mind explaining how it works, kid?"
I chose to reply through Whisper for effect.
[As I explained to Akira-sama, instead of focusing on a full sensory illusion, I concentrated on sound. Normal sound produces vibrations in the air. But this genjutsu bypasses that, simulating the sensation of hearing directly in the target's mind. Imagine it as creating a false auditory pathway. The sound exists only in the mind.]
I let that sink in, watching as they processed the implications.
[Only those targeted by the jutsu can hear it,] I continued. [No interception, no outside interference.]
Nao's fingers trembled slightly. "Marvelous. Absolutely marvelous."
Masaru finally spoke. "And the chakra drain?"
[For me it's minimal,] I transmitted. [It can run for hours without a significant drain on chakra reserves.]
Masaru nodded, his expression unreadable. "Very good."
[Of course, this jutsu should be able to benefit those out in the field. As convenient as hand signs are for tactical use, any time that can be saved, in my opinion, is beneficial.] I projected.
"I agree," Masaru said, matter of fact.
I continued, mentally saying, [Other than the obvious, this is, at its foundation, a genjutsu that's area of focus is sound. So—]
Instead of hearing my voice, they suddenly began hearing the voice of Elder Masaru.
[Voices, orders, or even ambient sounds can be replicated and transmitted like this…]
Instantly, pandemonium ensued, and they all started talking at once.
"Come study under me, Satoshi!" Nao's voice snaked across the room, his expression serious. "Akira's going to waste your talents on calligraphy!"
"Shut up, Nao!" Akira hissed. "You would ruin him, you freak!"
"Genius," Haruto muttered under his breath. "Isn't even the word."
"So," Daki said, his chair tilted backward dramatically, only supported by the back two legs with no movement at all. He obviously had great chakra control to pull that off. "What's your plan for this jutsu?"
I took a beat to look like I was considering my answer, knowing full and well I had already thought of ten answers to this question in preparation for a situation like this.
To be quite frank, I already assumed when Akira scurried off yesterday, she went to report my genjutsu back to the rest of the Elders. That said, I was already prepared for this question.
"I'd prefer to leave the decision to the Elders. Your wisdom and experience will guide the best use of the technique." I said, no longer using Whisper.
Akira-sensei rolled her eyes, unable to fully hide a smirk.
She knew me well enough to recognize the words for what they were. Carefully crafted, open-ended.
A tactical response that shifted the responsibility of choice to them while keeping my own intentions ambiguous. I knew how to BS when needed. It was a skill I had long since honed back on Earth. A skill most had to learn.
Haruto grinned, slapping his knee. "Much better than those arrogant Uchiha," he said with a snort. "The clan could use more like you."
"Indeed," Nao added with a nod and pursed lips.
I didn't expect them to praise me to my face. Usually, in situations like these, elders withhold any praise out of fear of ego-stroking. But knowing my clan's modus operandi, Haruto and Nao were playing mind games with me, or Akira had already told them praise and criticism did next to nothing for my ego.
"Before we decide, I want to hear what you would do with this jutsu." Masaru inserted, "First, would you like this to remain a jutsu only you know?"
I shook my head. "No, Masaru-sama. I believe it would be a waste for this jutsu to stay confined to a single mind."
"Understood. Then, on to my second question. Should the Clan or the Village have access to learn this jutsu?"
Here was the question I'd been waiting for. Without skipping a beat, I said, "I believe the benefit this jutsu can provide the village is quite obvious." I started, my eyes moving to each of them, picking up on absolutely nothing.
Yamanaka were actually scarier than the anime gave them credit for. They were all trained early to have absolute control over their emotions and facial expressions. A Yamanaka could be smiling and acting like you were their best friend, and the next minute, they would kill you in your sleep. One of the best clans for espionage missions.
"But I believe the cons of sharing the technique with the entire village, unfortunately, outweigh the pros."
I could tell they didn't expect that answer from their raised eyebrows.
"And those cons are?" Akira asked, interested in where I was going.
"I read every village has spies." I started and could see the instant understanding in their eyes. "Does that mean other villages have spies in Konoha?"
"This boy…" Haruto looked at Akira, and all she did was smile and nod.
"You are correct to assume Konoha has at least a couple of spies," Masaru said.
I gave a quick nod and continued, "In that case, if this jutsu somehow got in the hands of those spies, Konoha's advantage would turn itself into its Achilles heel."
My thoughts weren't only on spies. I didn't want this jutsu in the hands of undesirable people (i.e., Danzo and other creepy psychopaths).
Daiki frowned. "Achilles heel? What do you mean by that?"
Fuck. "A weakness," I said, calm, cool. "If a shinobi's Achilles tendon, a name I created for the calcaneal tendon, is severed, they're immobilized. Death follows soon after."
"Hm... A tactical analogy, for a four-year-old, no less. I like that," Haruto said, with a hand on his chin.
"So, you're saying it's best to keep this jutsu within the clan?" Akira asked.
"Yes," I replied with a nod.
Masaru unexpectedly smiled. It was quick and unassuming, but there it was nonetheless. "I agree, Satoshi. We'll keep this within the clan. Limited use, but it's a necessary precaution. Does anyone object?"
A chorus of agreement followed.
"None."
"Yes, I'm fine with it."
"I concur."
"Agreed."
So, the decision was set. Whisper would remain a Yamanaka secret—a tool for the clan alone. Exactly as I had hoped.
My ideal goal was panning out exactly like I thought it would. Bringing prosperity to the clan while the village reaps the benefits. A win-win scenario. Couldn't have planned it better myself. Oh wait, I did.
"Now, for the next matter," Akira said, her eyes hiding a warmth in them. "What reward do you want for this contribution, boy?"
"I have no desires beyond serving the clan," I replied. "But if I must ask for something, I would accept whatever the elders deem fitting."
Masaru's smile widened, genuine this time, breaking the stoic façade.
"Then how about this, Satoshi? We'll each take turns training you ourselves. You'll learn directly from the five of us. We'll, of course, think of something else to give you for your contribution. How does that sound?"
I didn't pause or require time to think. I simply returned Masaru's smile this time. It, too, was genuine.
Bowing formally, I addressed my new teachers, "I would be honored to learn from you all."
"Then it's settled!" Haruto said, loud and raspy, "Let's get started. We have work to do if we're going to turn you into the pride of the Yamanaka!"
And with that, any hope of relaxation, peace, or sleep flew out the window.
My days would be packed with nothing but training, training, and more training. But I couldn't help but smile at the thought of it all.
This was what I wanted. What I craved.
Because the path to becoming a Sage-Rank shinobi demands sacrifice. And with the clan's elders behind me, I was one step closer to that goal.
Closer to reshaping the world for the better.
It's time to get to work.
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[A/N] Arc 1 is now complete! I know it was more buildup than action, but the next arc will be packed with plenty of action. And, of course, Satoshi has a war to fight, so there's even more fighting & action to come.
I know there were mistakes, plot holes, slow plots, mundane details, etc., in the previous chapters. I am, but I am a regular human, and this is my first fan fiction—my first time writing anything. I am bound to make mistakes. All I can do is grow and improve, and hopefully, you will stay along for the journey.
Thanks for sticking with me on this ride. If you're enjoying the story, please leave a review!