Each day under the old man's tutelage was a battle between progress and frustration.
My head throbbed from the intricate patterns of ink strokes, but my heart ached even more. The medic knowledge I bartered away gnawed at me.
Of course, I didn't surrender all my secrets at once. I gave as much as I learned. Over the past month, I had mastered storage scrolls and the art of sealing chakra of a beast. Unfortunately, the old man refused to push beyond that, instead turning his focus to sealing the elements—simple techniques meant to contain water or fire, nothing as elaborate as the powerful seals Jiraiya once used to bind Amaterasu.
Thus, I only wrote down the simplest healing techniques in return: treating bruises, mending muscle sprains, and designing proper diet plans. It must have irritated him; such knowledge surely already existed in the Uzumaki archives. Perhaps my methods were more refined, but they weren't revolutionary.
What they truly wanted was the knowledge I kept close—the power to transplant organs and reconnect severed limbs. I had demonstrated such feats before, yet I refused to yield those secrets until I gained the knowledge I truly sought: fuinjutsu that could be applied directly to the human body. Especially, the sealing kind.
This uneasy exchange became our rhythm, a trade of knowledge both guarded and begrudgingly offered.
When I returned to our secluded residence, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. The children were training hard, their dedication unwavering.
The familiar flashes of body flicker steps and substitution logs filled the yard. Jizen, ever grumpy from his crippled state of body, performed the drills with the experience of someone who had survived the battlefield using these very jutsu.
Of course, only Momosuke and Karui were battle ready on using these jutsu. The rest of the kids were still in learning phase. It was too much to expect these kids with their measly chakra to master them. Not everyone was like Naruto with ample chakra to use. Actually, majority of the civilian shinobi would take a decade to master these basics.
While the academy 3 and body flicker jutsu were basic and had limited combat power, they were the best in familiarizing over 80% of body's chakra pathways. Mastering them will build a strong foundation for them.
No wonder, they would soon become the compulsory jutsu to be learnt in the next era.
THUCK THUCK
Their shurikenjutsu was solid as well, but the dull edges of their weapons concerned me. I made a mental note to procure new kunai and shuriken soon.
With a firm clap, I signaled the end of their routine. The children gathered eagerly, eyes bright with anticipation—it was time for their favourite part: elemental ninjutsu.
"Momosuke," I called. "Show me your Earth Style: Mole Hiding Jutsu."
Momosuke stepped forward and slammed his palms into the ground. The earth quivered beneath him, until he slowly started sinking but his descent faltered halfway.
In the end, he ended up half buried with only his head above the ground.
The sight was funny, but I couldn't show that to him. Instead, I did the opposite.
"You're still relying on brute force," I told him. "You need to spread your chakra evenly across your skin—like a second layer. Imagine yourself sinking as if you are a stone thrown into a swamp, not forcing the earth apart like idiot."
My comment made him flinch, but he gritted his teeth and continued his attempt. It was unfortunate for him that he held most of my attention for numerous reasons. The other kids were too young to practice such jutsu for long periods of time, Karui focused on Medic ninjutsu and Fuinjutsu. Of course, the most important reason was he had been the clan heir. In essence, he was the most motivated of the group, even more so than me.
Each day, he grew colder and more aggressive. Especially regarding revenge. Thankfully, he was not yet a loose cannon driven by his revenge. The proof supporting my statement lied in the fact that he managed to take Taro uzumaki's bullying attempts without complaints and not retaliate beyond some pranks.
Hence, I choose insult over laughter to provoke his concentration.
[Increasing chakra spread by 17%... Decreasing chakra flow to extremities by 6%... Optimizing chakra density for smoother descent.]
I repeated the same.
I watched him correct his stance and repeat the technique with the newer instructions. This time, he sank into the ground with practiced ease. A grin tugged at the corners of my lips. The AI was proving invaluable yet again.
Momosuke, without doubt, was the one who emulated me the most in this group. Most importantly, I was watching and training him since he was a child. His primary focus had been medic nin, in which he hit a bottleneck due to lack of chakra reserves. Just like me he went into elemental nature release.
Of course, crucial ninjutsu like hidden mole or hidden mist were taught to everyone. These ninjutsu could save lives when used properly.
"Yes!"
Momosuke's complete descent made Karui exclaim in happiness, which soon spread to everyone. Even, I was not cruel enough to sap the joy out of this. In fact, they needed this much positive reinforcement. A good reward for all that hard work.
The rest of the evening followed the same pattern. Each child repeated their elemental jutsu under my guidance, and I refined their technique with careful corrections.
They don't know how much I paid to teach them. Both in Jutsu and effort.
AI, bring up my Jutsu list.
[Ding.]
[Water Style Techniques:
Water Style: Water Bullet [C-rank] Water Style: Water Whip [C-rank] Water Style: Water Clone [C-rank] Water Style: Hidden Mist [C-rank] Water Style: Rising Water Cutter [C-rank] Water Style: Severing Waves [B-rank] Water Style: Water Prison [B-rank] Water Style: Water Dragon Bullet [A-rank]
[Lightning Style Techniques:
Lightning Style: Lightning Beast Tracking Fang [C-rank] Lightning Style: Thunderclap [C-rank]
[Earth Style Techniques:
Earth Style: Mole Hiding Jutsu [C-rank]
[Fire Style Techniques:
Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu [C-rank]
[Wind Style Techniques:
Wind Style: Great Breakthrough [C-rank]]
Learning these Jutsu myself was the only way I could teach them properly. It was exhausting, but necessary. Each wasted droplet of chakra I sacrificed now were treated as investment by me. It was a sacrifice because such a large Jutsu pool meant nothing when I only use a handful of them in my combat style.
Due to me mastering these jutsu, My AI had enough data to hasten their own learning progress. Just like now, Momosuke was given the right suggestions to successfully use the earth mole jutsu. Though, according to my AI, he wasted 20% of chakra.
Now, I need to help him improve it's use and master the jutsu. Not just him but all the kids.
Even if it cost me a lot of time and effort, I'd make sure they had a fighting chance in the wide world.
Thanks to the foundation I established and my chakra that has grown over the years, I had managed to make Hidden mist, Severing wave [B] and its lesser version, Hidden cutter [C].
Only I know how much tears sprang to my eyes when my chakra got exhausted from simple tasks the AI made when I was little kid. The initial few years were particularly miserable, my AI fuelled by my measly childish chakra reserves could only help to make a few improvements in Taijutsu style before exhausting me.
Clearing away my memories of the miserable past, I brought my thoughts back to present.
I used these Jutsu which I made, for fulfilling the old man's requirement to add 3 ninjutsu.
Though, the severing wave might be the only true ninjutsu. The other two, were mere derivations of it.
Such was the nature of the trade, always aim to decrease the price paid by you while increasing the price you earn.
The rest of the jutsu I learnt, came from the Kyudo clan reserves, including the famous water dragon that needed 44 hand signs. In essence, I mastered the complete reserve of the Kyudo clan Ninjutsu archive.
It was a good thing that I stored the entire archive in my database despite the risk of Chakra exhaustion. Otherwise, I would have needed to start from the scratch. As of this moment, with help of all this knowledge, I finally mapped and explored 100% of my chakra pathways.
Of these pathways, I found that only 80% was same in all humans. In between close family and clan members, the similarities ranged from 90-95%. Only the rare case of twins may have 100% match in chakra pathways, which made my heart race from the sheer possibilities that twin shinobi would have under proper guidance, especially under my guidance.
Just like this my routine continued until it was interrupted.
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One day, the old man interrupted our routine, his voice carrying a rare edge. "There are grumblings among the old folk about our deal," he said.
I scoffed without a shred of respect. "I respect the deal and gave you the same as you did. You taught me each of the basics only once. In fact, I did better by explaining the details and writing them down in scrolls."
Clearly, I was losing out. But the fact remained — my presence in this place represented profit to them. That ensured my safety. I'd stuck my neck out by revealing my Mystic Palm Jutsu when the neighbouring shop exploded, a calculated move to prod this old man into accepting my request.
That decrepit old shop in the heart of the most prosperous street in the world spoke volumes about the weight he carried. The intricate sealing patterns woven throughout the walls made me wonder if I could even scratch it — a thought that meant something since I could now use the Water Dragon Jutsu, despite its ridiculous 44 hand signs.
The old man broke my thoughts with a tone I'd never heard before. "Sure, you wrote down your medic knowledge... but it's too complex to be taught directly from scrolls. A single lesson isn't enough to explain them."
I lifted an eyebrow. That was exactly what he'd done for me. He'd taught each fuinjutsu lesson once. The only difference was that I had given them extra scrolls — and I'd mastered everything he'd taught.
The fact that my sales of storage scrolls had finally started to cover the cost of shuriken, healing salves, herbs, and proper meat for the kids' training gave me no small satisfaction.
The old man's face shifted — an expression I'd never expected to see. Shame.
"They want you to teach some of us interested in medic-nin techniques... in a class of sorts."
Drip. Drip.
The dripping sound made me turn towards it's source-I felt warm blood trickle down from my clenched fists. My blood.
The old man sighed, resigned. "I understand your situation."
I forced out my answer, each syllable sharpened by strain. "You don't."
His hand patted my shoulder as he said with complete seriousness, "I understand you. I understand your helplessness and the need for peace. I understand the search for safety."
The old man chuckled darkly. Then, with deliberate care, he lifted his shirt.
The scars — no, the mangled ruin of his chest — stole my breath. No muscle lines, no nipples, no chest hair. Just a web of twisted flesh barely holding together.
"My discipline in fuinjutsu is the purest in terms of sealing arts," he explained. "But it requires practice on living things. That's why my lineage of masters always ventures out — seeking shinobi, spirits, monstrosities to seal away. I still dream of those nightmares, where I spent years in search of escape to safety. To reach my home."
He paused, then continued with grim resolve that probably came from facing things that made his body a bag of scars.
"In exchange for this... I will teach you the basics of my art completely. You should know that my art was the basis behind the birth of numerous disciplines of Fuinjutsu. In essence, it will the same as teaching you the basics of every discipline of Fuinjutsu. You clearly have the aptitude, and I will fulfill my duty. A duty that I must fulfil as per our deal."
That's rather great. Barriers that could protect, Time-space that could make summoning contracts and even the numerous Fuinjutsu weapoins.
Sure, it was basics but it was a fair deal all things considered. Cheers for the old man.
But I wanted to know the uzumaki's fascination with only teaching the basics. On second thought, it was understandable when you considered that the advanced applications make up the protection and core strength of Uzumaki clan.
Just the advanced applications of barriers could render their prized city-wide sealing pattern vulnerable. Generations worth of effort which built such a massive protective array could be broken.
"Only the basics?" I asked, wanting to know his reaction. What could I do? It was basic instinct of a shinobi to prod for more information. Especially considering his vulnerable mindset right now.
The old man smirked — a twisted, bloodthirsty smile. "Don't push it, kid. If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have gotten even this much. The only reason you're getting this is because I disdain to act like the rotten nobles and disgusting vermin who disguise themselves as shinobi. I keep my word and honour. "
There is no doubt about it. From his words, I could say this for sure.
This old man was one of the few shinobi who knew the cruelty of the outside world and hence, he was willing to protect his clan from it. He was without doubt a core member in the Uzumaki clan from what I observed.
The old man then continued to add to his reasons, as if it was an easy to recognise fact.
"I also like the way you look after those kids."
It was fine. I accept the deal anyway.
No — better to say I had no choice but to accept the deal. However, I refused to take their orders like a slave. Whoever they were — the so-called "old folk" standing behind this man — I didn't owe them anything.
"In exchange," I said firmly, "I want my kids to join the fuinjutsu classes you hold for your own. Tit for tat. Medic nin vs Fuinjutsu exchange. Basics in exchange for basics."
To my surprise, the old man grunted and said, "Alright."
It seemed I'd underestimated just how much sway this scarred old man had over the Uzumaki clan.
"Now, let's talk about the Summoning discipline. It could be considered a fusion of Fuinjutsu and Ninjutsu. With the summoning scroll made using the Fuin formula as conduit, it allows the shinobi to summon helpers or even cast summoning style ninjutsu. The best example would be a brat from Land of hot water who came to me to craft a summoning scroll for his boss summon."
Now, that's interesting. A fucking boss summon. My own interest must be visible to the old man because he gave a chuckle and continued his storytelling and infused parts of knowledge in between. I was really starting to like this version of old man who seemed to be unrestrained without the need to set the boundaries on his teaching.
-----The next day------
It was the first time I had been allowed into these grounds, and I must admit, the newfound freedom was a relief. At least this deal had some benefits. I used my body flicker jutsu to reach the training grounds, only to find two separate groups of children — the Uzumaki kids, led by Taro, and my own, led by Momosuke — sitting among scattered scrolls and ink pots.
It must have been a hour since the first shared fuinjutsu class ended.
I didn't need to look twice to see the mess my kids had made. They lacked the foundation, the patience, and frankly, the interest in Fuinjutsu. This entire arrangement was nothing more than a token gesture on my part — a way to balance the scales in the twisted game of politics within this clan. Compensation, nothing more.
A whoosh signaled the arrival of the older Uzumaki, the so-called medics who had appeared during the explosion incident. I internally cursed. When the old man mentioned a "class of sorts," I expected something organized — groups divided by skill level, structured progression. Instead, I got this chaotic mess: children barely six years old mixed with stubborn 12 years olds like Taro who were set in their ways.
Though, It seems that kid Taro seems to be son of some important higher up of the clan. Even during the explosion, the scarred shinobi took Taro's word at face value. Even now, he was sent to learn my medic ninjutsu.
However, It seemed like the concept of school and classrooms were not yet fully established in this era. It was mistake in my part, expecting something like that. Though, the assumption was reasonable when I witnessed how organised this hidden village was.
At the end of the day, I was wrong.
Instead of organized classes, I got this.
"This is a mess," I muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.
The kids turned their attention to me. I clapped my hands hard, the sharp sound snapping their focus back to me. Especially the two groups of kids that were glaring at each other. I had no intention of letting the reckless Uzumaki brats spark an argument with my brats. No matter how mature or cold my kids were, they were still kids.
"While I'm teaching, my focus is on the children," I announced. "If the adults want to learn, they'll start from the basics. And that's all I'm going to teach anyway — the basics."
I scanned the crowd, trying my best to ignore the Uzumaki Medics 'supervising' the class.
"Let's see... I divide medical knowledge into two parts: para-clinical and clinical. Clinical is about treatment, which none of you will touch until you master the para-clinical. Para-clinical consists of anatomy, physiology, bio-chakra interactions, herbology, microbiology, and pathology. I'll teach those the first three since they form the foundation of any medic-nin. The rest —" I let my gaze linger on the adults, "— the Uzumaki clan will need to explore on their own."
The adults at least looked troubled — they knew about the so-called 'deal.'
Taro scoffed. "As if it's going to be useful."
I lifted an eyebrow at the insult. This brat had no idea. I had revamped pharmacology into herbology, created bio-chakra interactions from scratch, and spent years refining them. And this brat spat on those efforts like they were nothing.
"It will be useful," I said coldly, "if something like this happens."
A chakra scalpel bloomed from my index finger. With my left palm wide open, I brought the scalpel down.
Sickening gasps filled the air as my palm slackened like a loose cloth.
"I've just severed my nerves and muscles," I said flatly. "This hand is now useless. All the ninjutsu, taijutsu, and even fuinjutsu you learn would mean nothing if someone did this to you. Just from a single touch."
Taro gulped, but I wasn't done.
I extended the chakra scalpel across my entire right arm and brought it down once more. My left wrist hit the ground with a dull thud — not a single drop of blood spilt.
"If it wasn't for me cauterizing the wound as I cut, I'd have bled out in seconds," I said, walking toward him.
Grabbing his arm, I pressed my still-warm severed hand into his palm. Before he could react, I forced his other hand to form hand signs at a speed even most shinobi would struggle to follow. Of course, it was not the superificial making of the hand signs as assumed by the anime watchers in my past life. But, true hand signs in which my chakra made a path through both my hand and his, allowing me to use the ninjutsu.
My Mystic Palm jutsu was activated in seconds — its unique signs ensuring no one could replicate it without serious study.
Under Taro's shaky fingers, the green chakra flared as I guided him. I pressed hand which held my severed hand towards the stump. The moment, it connected, I started weaving nerves, reconnecting muscles, and mending blood vessels. The process took five minutes — deliberate and grotesque. The flesh knit together slowly, veins and arteries crawling across the wound like vines.
When my hand flexed once more, I gave Taro a firm handshake. "I hope you learn well from my lessons."
I clapped once more, looking at the ashen faces before me. Oh! They were horrified but It was rapidly being replaced by complete fascination and awe.
Good.
"Let's begin."
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I began the lesson by detailing the intricate network of muscles and the nerves that innervated them. Each student dutifully scribbled the knowledge down, their disciplined focus a clear product of their Fuinjutsu training. Theory first, practice later. That was the Uzumaki way.
But I had no intention of letting things remain that simple.
Turning to Karui, one of my more advanced students, I asked, "How well have you progressed in generating healing chakra? Can you manage it consistently now?"
Karui gave a firm nod. "I can do it now."
Good. Unlike Momosuke who was learning this art from me the moment he first wielded chakra, Karui was much behind. But, She was also progressing the fastest due to the higher reserves and constant guidance from me.
"Demonstrate it," I ordered.
Karui gritted her teeth, clenched her fist, and slammed her right hand over her left shoulder. A sickening pop followed, and she let out a scream that echoed through the training grounds.
Unlike my previous demonstration, the Uzumaki adults didn't stay quiet this time. I felt the sharp points of shuriken and kunai aimed at my vitals. But I didn't move.
I wasn't afraid. I wanted this. I wanted the Uzumaki children to witness my kids' resolve — to understand that their bullying was nothing more than a fleeting nuisance. Whatever they threw at my kids now would be irrelevant after today. Considering the increasing load on their training time, the bullying was no longer needed to temper their mentality.
I turned to Taro, who was still pale from my earlier demonstration. His hand trembled at his side. "You didn't like that my kids hate the Senju, did you? Well, let me tell you why."
I pointed to Karui, her face still pale but now focused. Her green chakra-laced hand worked steadily over her swollen shoulder, reducing the swelling and numbing the pain. Without pain distorting her face, her usual gentle smile returned. Yet the sight of her limp arm — slumped like a lifeless cloth — made her appear almost hollow.
"Karui," I continued, "was forced to listen to her mother's screams as she was violated and killed. After that, Karui buried her mother and the scattered pieces of her father's body — torn to shreds by Senju shinobi."
It was something that I learned recently, when I overhead Karui crying in Momosuke's arms. Apparently, her mother's screams were heard from their hiding spot. A burst of rage welled up in me. Sure, I was cruel to train them.
But, that incident was undeniabley inhuman. I could vividly imagine Karui tremblingly soothing the little kids of 6-7 like Hiro and Yoshime, in the darkness while Momosuke was trying to sitch me up besides his dead sister and disabled Jizen. All while her mother's screams echoed.
I didn't stop there. One by one, I pointed at Momosuke, Hiro, and the others, detailing their stories of loss and suffering. Each tale was a fresh cut — an undeniable reminder of why we despised the Senju.
By the time I finished, Taro looked like he was about to explode. His face had turned crimson, his eyes watery with rage and disbelief.
"No way," he stammered, barely a whisper. "They're not like that."
I lifted an eyebrow. "White hair, red eyes, blue armor, and a fur neck guard. Lightning-fast with a tanto, and a mastery of Water Style unlike anything seen before. Those were the characteristics of the man who led the Senju squad that tore through our clan's defenses. The same man who ensured the Kaguya and Hagoromo clans completed their mission — the massacre and eradication of the Kyudo clan. I saw him cut down our clan leader, Momosuke's father in a single strike."
Taro kept muttering, "No... no... no..." under his breath, shaking his head in denial. Hmm, He was definitely connected to the higher ups. There was no doubt about it, he knew Tobirama personally. It was the only explanation I can think of that explains his shock.
It was not just him. Even the adult Uzumaki medic nin were clearly disturbed and looked shell shocked. That disgusted me. It meant they didn't know a single thing about the true chaos of the world outside the waters of land of whirlpools.
"You Uzumaki are naive," I said coldly. "Sheltered by your strength, protected by your walls, you've forgotten what it's like to see the world bleed. That's why you flinched when I cut off my hand. That's why you panicked when Karui dislocated her shoulder."
I locked eyes with Taro, my voice firm. "If you want to survive the world outside your safe little walls, you better toughen up."
This advice was genuine especially when considering the fact that this old nation would crushed and dusted within the next few decades.
The adults who already withdrew their weapons looked ashen as they looked at the cold eyes of Kyudo clan remnants, clearly used to such sights. Sure, they may had an idea but seeing it must have been a whole other thing for them.
Seeing the evidence of cruelty outside their home.
A guilty part of me felt a sense of satisfaction at the sight. Because, it was truly difficult to live under the oppressive gaze and forced 'deals' of Uzumaki. Though, the forced deals were needed for me to gain the Fuinjutsu. But, Medic ninjutsu would not be considered any less than Fuinjutsu. Because, the life may be cheap and useless in this era, but it was ironically priceless at the same time.
I shouted on top of my lungs, "Just like Fuinjutsu, Medic ninjutsu needs practice to make the knowledge in your head, into your skill. Since we can't get patients to you kids, you yourself will be the patients. I expect everyone to replicate Karui's actions at the least. You must be able to do that much if you mastered the basics."
It would be their test.
"You are insane."
The muttering from the adult uzumaki made me smile. But, I was sure, it was a broken one.