"When is Big Brother coming home?" Akira whispered. He stood in the courtyard, catching an amber leaf as it drifted from the trees. He stared at the empty training grounds with wide, searching eyes.
Nobuyuki stepped out from the sliding doors. He placed a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder, his own face masked by a weary stoicism. "It is getting cold out here. Let's go in," he said. His voice was low and carried a weight that suggested he was struggling to keep his own heart steady.
Inside, the house felt hollow. Naoko remained a shadow of herself. She had collapsed when the news of Yoichi's capture arrived, as if her past had finally come to haunt her. She was trapped in a deep depression, her days spent in quiet, constant weeping. The mother who had longed for her son's presence was now a woman mourning a son she feared was lost to the Cloud.
Outside, Konoha was changing. It was now autumn, and the chilling winds of October bit at the citizens. The tension between the Uchiha Clan and the Hokage's Office grew more volatile with every passing week. Suspicion hung in the air like a thick fog.
Kohaku's one-year proposition was burning out. Every falling leaf counted down the days toward a confrontation that felt inevitable. The village was a tinderbox, and the absence of its most rational prodigy only added to the growing heat of the conflict.
The meeting took place in a windowless room beneath the Uchiha shrine. Kohaku sat across from the elders, his face flickering in the candlelight. The air was stale. The elders sat like stone statues, their expressions hard and impatient.
"The one-year window is closing," Kohaku stated. His voice was flat. "The Hokage's Office has tightened surveillance. They are no longer hiding their distrust."
The situation had soured due to the clan's earlier unruly attitude. Hiruzen and his special forces had begun to be manipulative behind the scenes. They controlled the narrative of Yoichi's heroism, burying the foretold events to keep the public calm. The people were still patiently waiting, but the atmosphere had grown toxic over these nine months.
"We waited as you asked," an elder replied, his voice a dry rasp. "We gave you time to find the boy. Instead, we have lost a prodigy to a Kumo cage."
The council felt the pressure of the village's increasing restrictions. To them, Yoichi's absence made the Uchiha look weak while the village elders pulled the strings. The internal agitation was reaching a boiling point.
"If the boy is dead, we move," another elder hissed. "If he is alive, his absence is an insult. The clan will not wait for the first snow to decide its fate."
Kohaku did not blink. He knew Hiruzen's shadow was lengthening over the clan's reputation. The elders were no longer looking for diplomacy; they were looking for a spark. Yoichi's empty seat was a silent call to arms.
"I am aware of the timeline," Kohaku said, his tone turning sharp. "But a premature strike is a death sentence. We wait for the year to end. Not a day sooner."
The elders exchanged dark looks. The meeting adjourned in heavy silence. The peace was rotting from the inside out.
...
...
...
"Does my mother miss me?... I wonder what Konoha looks like now," Yoichi mused. The boy leaned against the damp cave wall, his voice a mere shadow in the dark. Memories of falling leaves and silent grief flickered through his mind before he pushed them aside.
The Uchiha sat in a secluded hollow, breathing perfectly in sync with the giant turtle's pulse.
During these nine months, 6 Silver Tickets had been spent. The roulette granted a bottle of Qi Blood Pills, two Demonic Bone Forging Pills, a vial of Slow-Acting Poison, a Set of Explosive Tags, and Corpse Dissolving Liquid.
These items remained stashed deep within the soil. Usage happened in secret, far from the prying eyes of patrols. The Demonic Bone Forging Pills were particularly brutal, forcing the skeleton to break and knit back together with the density of iron. This effort pushed Yoichi into the middle of the Bone Forging Realm. A single punch now carried a force of roughly 1732 jins, or 1039 KG.
Daily endurance trials amassed ten more Silver Tickets and a single Gold Ticket.
These stayed banked for later.
The Third Raikage's command forced the prisoner into the same extreme training as Kumo shinobi.
This involved long runs across the rugged shell and constant Taijutsu sparring. Every test ended with passing marks.
Technically, a one-shot kill against an adult Jōnin was now possible. However, the Spirit Aperture constantly suppressed this regular strength.
Sharp perception also allowed the boy to find clues about escape paths.
Occasionally, the Island Turtle reached multiple islands near the Land of Water to resupply and take in shinobi willing to undergo training in the Land of Lightning. These moments provided a clear window into the world outside his cage.
Medical teams arrived frequently to extract blood, curious about such resilience.
The boy did not mind the needles.
His body was the culmination of overpowered passive abilities and relentless effort.
Nothing else could be taken.
Yoichi stood up, his frame leaner and more defined. This presence made the nearby guards uneasy. A monster hidden in plain sight, the prodigy waited for the year to end.
Yoichi stared out at the churning gray waves of the Land of Water. Three distinct plans had formed within his rational mind to escape this behemoth.
The first was the path of the Ghost.
He would utilize the island's frequent resupply stops near the Mist. By timing the docking sequence, he could slip into the cargo of a supply ship or vanish into the dense oceanic fog during a shift change. This required perfect stealth and a moment of absolute Kumo complacency.
His second option was the path of Chaos.
He possessed the explosive tags and the corpse-dissolving liquid. By sabotaging the giant turtle's internal equilibrium or detonating a critical supply depot, he could trigger a mass-evacuation protocol. In the resulting fire and panic, a single boy slipping overboard would go unnoticed by the frantic guards.
The final, most dangerous route was the path of the Demon. He would wait for his Bone Forging to reach its peak and simply carve a bloody trail through the checkpoints. With a punch force exceeding a thousand kilograms, he could break the guards before they could form a perimeter.
It was a gamble on his own raw physical superiority against the numbers of the Cloud.
The Ghost is safest, but the Demon is more certain, he thought. He checked the mental tally of his tickets one last time. The Gold Ticket remained his ultimate insurance policy. He would wait for the perfect alignment of the island's position and the guards' exhaustion.
A new thought emerged, shifting the gears of his intent. He wondered if he could mix these three paths into a single, cohesive strike.
The idea took root quickly. He would start as the Ghost, using the chaos of a resupply stop to mask his initial movements. During the confusion of docking, he would trigger the Chaos plan. The explosive tags would detonate at the primary watchtower, drawing every available shinobi away from the docks to contain the fire and protect the turtle.
As the guards rushed toward the flames, he would become the Demon. Anyone standing between him and the water would face the full weight of his thousand-kilogram strike. He would not just slip away; he would break the perimeter with such violence that pursuit would be impossible.
Distraction, destruction, and a final, crushing exit, he thought. The plan felt rational. It utilized every resource in his stash while minimizing the time he remained exposed to the Raikage's heavy hitters.
He glanced at the guards. They still saw a compliant prisoner. They did not realize that the boy they were training had already mapped out the destruction of their routine. He reached into his mental inventory, his fingers figuratively brushing the Gold Ticket.
The year was almost over. The three paths had merged into one inevitable conclusion.
Yoichi closed his eyes and focused on the Gold Ticket within his mind. He initiated the draw, watching the mental roulette spin with predatory focus. The light intensified before a notification flashed across his vision.
[Drawing...]
[Congratulations! You've obtained Body of Thorns!]
[Body of Thorns] (Gold)
—15% reactive damage.
He felt a cold, sharp sensation ripple through his newly forged bones. The passive ability integrated perfectly with his plethora of divine abilities and terrifying constitution.
This was the final piece of his "Demon" plan.
Now, any shinobi who managed to land a strike on him would feel a portion of their own force reflected into their limbs.
A natural deterrent, the boy thought. Between his thousand-kilogram punch and this reactive defense, he was becoming a physical nightmare for anyone in close quarters.
He stood up and walked toward the edge of the turtle's shell, looking down at the white foam of the ocean. The Kumo guards watched him from a distance, their hands resting habitually on their sword hilts.
They saw a quiet Uchiha boy staring at the sea. They had no idea he was now a living weapon of thorns and iron.
The Island Turtle groaned, its massive head turning toward a new scent in the wind.
A dark smudge appeared on the horizon, the next resupply island.
The time has come, he decided. He began to visualize the placement of his explosive tags.
The Ghost, the Chaos, and the Demon were about to become one.
Yoichi moved like a shadow through the iron rafters of the primary watchtower, his heart beating with rhythmic precision. He worked with methodical silence, patching his explosive tags one by one into the structural seams.
By placing them in separate stages rather than all at once, he avoided drawing any immediate scrutiny. The boy finished the last seal just as a heavy footfall vibrated through the floorboards.
A Kumo Jōnin stepped into the light, his hand gripped white-knuckled on his sword hilt. "You. Stop right there," the man hissed, his eyes narrowed with sharp, predatory distrust. "What are you doing in a restricted tower, Uchiha? Give me one reason not to cut you down."
Yoichi remained perfectly still, a mask of hollow obedience. "The wind is clearer here for my breathing exercises," he replied. His voice was flat, a dead calm that contrasted with the Jōnin's mounting aggression.
"Breathing exercises?" the Jōnin spat, his voice dripping with extreme suspicion. "I don't buy it. Turn around. Hands where I can see them!"
The guard stepped forward and began a rough, thorough inspection of Yoichi's body. He patted down the boy's tunic and searched his waist for hidden scrolls.
Because Yoichi had already used the items one after another and stashed the rest in the soil, the search turned up nothing.
Even a deep investigation of the room yielded no results; the tags were perfectly integrated into the masonry.
No one could find a trace of his suspicious activity.
The Jōnin let out a low grunt of annoyance.
He found only the lean, dense muscle of a well-trained child. "Get out. If I find so much as a scratch on this tower later, I'll personally see to it that you never breathe again," he barked, pointing toward the stairs. "Move! Before I lose my patience."
Yoichi gave a shallow bow. "Understood," he said softly. He walked away with a steady, unhurried pace. Behind him, the tower was already a primed trap.
The fuse was set, and the Kumo elite had looked right at the threat without seeing a thing.
Over several hours, he patched explosive tags into the primary watchtower and the vital navigational arrays.
He worked in stages, lacing the steering systems with hidden fire.
By the time he finished, the organic interfaces were primed for destruction.
Numerous guards patrolled these crucial spots, their eyes scanning for any sign of trouble.
Yoichi merely passed by the shadows of the machinery, placing each seal with a light touch.
Before a single head could turn, he disappeared using Phantom Steps.
The movement, improved by Wind Becomes Lightning, turned his retreat into a blur.
He bypassed the sentries like a ghost in the machine and reappeared in the silence of his cave.
A rare, cold smile curled the corner of his mouth.
The Uchiha did not waste the momentum. He immediately transitioned into his martial arts forms, his strikes cutting through the stale air.
Yoichi refined his techniques, preparing his iron-dense skeleton for the coming violence.
The trap was set, and his body was ready.
__________
Thanks to Enterthedragon, Daemonic_Dragon, doomslayer24, and Snowwwww for Power Stones!
Thanks again! I appreciate the gestures!
Oh right, I forgot about the proficiency progress! I'll have it in the next one since I ended the chapter on Yoichi training.