The discovery of the Jutsu Insects opened up a brand-new field.
In truth, most of Tetsumaru's gains since his transmigration weren't exactly "research" results; they were "discoveries." The Sugar Ants, the Slimes, the various strange bugs, and the Jutsu Insects were all indigenous products of the Shinobi World. Tetsumaru had simply unearthed them. His only true research achievement was the knowledge of Chakra Meridian Adjustment.
In this world, anything involving chakra was essentially a miracle, defying all logic.
When a Water Style user creates water, does the law of conservation of mass just... stop working? No. Once you account for chakra, matter is conserved; Tetsumaru had verified this through experimentation.
There were countless other supernatural phenomena he didn't even know how to begin testing: the spatial jumping of the Summoning Jutsu, the mass expansion of the Akimichi's Butterfly Mode, the death-reversal of the Reanimation Jutsu, and so on.
In his old world, once you delved into the sub-atomic, classical physics ceased to exist and things got weird. Tetsumaru was certain that chakra was the bridge between the logical and the "illogical" in this world. Understanding how it worked was the ultimate secret of the Shinobi World.
Knowledge is easy; execution is hard. Tetsumaru could manipulate chakra with ease, but he had no starting point for researching its essence—until the Jutsu Insects appeared.
Inside these insects, strangely shaped pathways formed. When infused with chakra, they triggered a jutsu. Tetsumaru dubbed these structures "Chakra Runes."
These runes were complex, three-dimensional structures. Since they could trigger jutsus without hand seals, there had to be a direct link between the runes and the seals themselves. Tetsumaru's intuition told him that these runes were the key to unlocking the greatest mysteries of the world.
However, breeding Jutsu Insects was difficult, and the rare samples meant his data was fragmented. He adjusted his strategy, deciding to work backward from hand seals to prove the relationship between the seals and the runes.
One year later, Sunagakure.
Shamon, the Second Kazekage, lay on his deathbed. He had been bedridden for over six months and was finally forced to consider his successor.
Under Shamon's leadership, Suna had engaged in the war only briefly before withdrawing early. Many ninjas and the Wind Daimyo were dissatisfied with this "weakness," but no one could challenge the policy of such a strong leader.
Shamon was a brilliant visionary. He established a Ninja Academy modeled after Konoha's to promote talent fairly and suppress the influence of the Great Clans. He was a genius on par with the Second Hokage: he developed the Puppet Technique to compensate for Suna's low population, and he researched the One-Tail to develop Magnet Release and sand-manipulation jutsus.
Because of his policies of suppressing clans and avoiding war, the elite ninjas of Suna resisted him. This forced Shamon to handle almost every administrative task himself. The exhaustion finally broke him last year.
This tattooed, bald titan had trained a generation of masters like Monzaemon and Chiyo. Under his watch, Suna's strength had multiplied. The harsh desert environment had bred a people who were resilient and hardworking, but impulsive and short-sighted.
The powerful foundation Shamon had built left the villagers and ninjas restless; they were desperate to use that strength to seize fertile land and water through war.
Shamon's greatest regret was failing to find a suitable heir. Monzaemon, Suna's greatest puppeteer, was a technical obsessive who cared for nothing but combat and mechanics; he was socially illiterate. His two students weren't much better: Chiyo was biased toward the supremacy of puppeteers, and Ebizo was too soft and indecisive.
It was a cruel irony: the strongest puppet corps in the world had no leader. The next Kazekage had to possess the raw power to suppress the Puppet Brigade. This requirement disqualified many capable leaders, but it was necessary to prevent Suna from fracturing into a civil war.
There was only one candidate left: the child who had mastered Magnet Release. Born to a Great Clan, he was acceptable to Suna's various factions, and his Magnet Release was the natural counter to puppeteers.
Shamon could only smile bitterly. He had no choice but to hope this boy could transcend his clan background, unite Suna, and win the next war.
Yes, the next war.
Everyone in Suna, even the Daimyo, was clamoring for conflict. Shamon hadn't truly "opposed" war; he only opposed a war without a clear objective. To him, a war must be fought for specific gains that would allow the conflict to end. If you start a war without knowing how to finish it, you end up in an endless quagmire where you can't keep what you've won and your costs spiral out of control.
As a genius, Shamon couldn't understand his countrymen. Why are these fools so eager to make a bad business deal?
Two days later, Shamon passed away without officially naming a successor. With his death, the voice of anti-war sentiment in Suna vanished. Conflict was now inevitable.
After a fierce struggle, the Magnet Release user—supported by the clans—defeated Chiyo's faction and ascended as the Third Kazekage.
With a new leader, Suna's stance became aggressive. They built fortresses in the north to suppress the Stone, massed troops in the east to eye the Land of Fire, and loomed over the smaller nations to the south. After twenty years of quiet growth, Suna's accumulated strength was terrifying. Konoha, Iwa, and Kiri all felt the pressure and began frantic preparations for war.
Spring, Konoha Year 30.
As Suna's posture grew more aggressive, the atmosphere in Konoha became electric with tension. Everyone knew war was unavoidable.
A wave of early graduations hit the Academy. Tetsumaru watched over half his classmates leave; after Class A and Class B merged, only 29 students remained.
After school, Tetsumaru ignored the stares of his teachers and peers. He headed home to focus on his Chakra Runes. He hadn't achieved a breakthrough yet, but his accumulation of knowledge allowed him to "predict" ninjutsu. It was now almost impossible to use a feint or a deceptive jutsu against him—he could see the technique forming before it was even cast.
His chakra volume continued to skyrocket, bolstered by his Grand Circulation and the continuous feedback from his Meridian Micro-Surgeries.
However, repeatedly refusing early graduation had tarnished his reputation. Whispers began to circulate that he was a "fraud" or that he had somehow cheated to get the top spot in the first place.
Tetsumaru didn't care. Between his training and five hours of rune research every night, his dark circles had doubled in size. He had no energy to waste on "face." As long as he kept taking the #1 spot in exams and crushing his opponents in duels, the "Genius" title remained his—even if people thought his opponents were just "weak."
Home, dinner, chores, laundry, and small talk with his parents.
At 8:00 PM, Tetsumaru entered his stone lab and started boiling water. The water had been produced specifically by a Water Style user for purity. He channeled the steam through a series of pipes into a Cloud Chamber.
The chamber was empty, with transparent windows on the walls, ceiling, and floor. Behind the glass were Slimes with photographic capabilities. Tetsumaru wore a respirator to prevent his breath from disturbing the steam density, then adjusted the valves to hit the saturation threshold.
In a normal world, cloud chambers show the tracks of high-energy particles. Tetsumaru used the water vapor's condensation property to visualize Chakra Runes.
Everything was ready. The testing began.
Boar, Rooster, Boar, Dog, Ox. Nothing. Boar, Rooster, Boar, Dog, Tiger. Nothing.
...
Boar, Dog, Rat, Dog, Boar. Suddenly, a three-dimensional pattern made of white mist appeared in front of him—an image of orderly, structural beauty. A new Chakra Rune.
Tetsumaru, drenched in sweat from the heat, beamed with joy. He confirmed the image was recorded and moved on to the next combination.
With the Cloud Chamber, his research had officially moved into high gear. He began to calculate the permutations. With 12 basic seals:
2-seal combos: 132 permutations (Tetsumaru practiced these daily to master transitions).3-seal combos: 1,320 permutations. 4-seal combos: 11,880 permutations.
The numbers were getting daunting. When he calculated the 9-seal combinations, it took him five minutes just to get the result: 95,800,320 combinations. He felt faint just looking at it. Even Itachi Uchiha, the fastest sealer in history at seven seals per second, would take 188 days of non-stop, 24/7 sealing just to cycle through every 9-seal combination once.
It was hopeless.
He immediately scratched out everything above 5-seal combos. The total number of combinations for five seals and below was roughly 180,000—that was actually achievable with effort.
Over the last six months, he had mapped the 1, 2, 3, and 4-seal runes. He was currently tackling the 5-seal ones.
Every single-seal combo produced a rune, though the effects were weak. Starting from two seals, not every combo worked. By the time he hit 4-seal combos, only 74 out of 11,880 produced a rune—a success rate of less than 0.5%.
The low success rate actually sped up his progress, though it made the work incredibly monotonous. In his past life, he would have quit. But the experience of nearly fading away before his transmigration had given him the perfect temperament for scientific drudgery. As long as there was a discovery to be made, he felt a profound sense of achievement.
At 1:00 AM, Tetsumaru finished testing 400 five-seal combinations. He put out the furnace.
Tonight was a win. He'd found two new runes. He recorded the patterns from the 36 Slimes into his notebook and ended his workday.
Sweaty and exhausted, he walked into the main house and was surprised to see both his parents sitting in the living room. He checked the clock. 2:00 AM.
Since the family finances had stabilized, Wafu mainly handled the ant business and didn't take missions anymore. He kept a regular schedule: early to bed, early to rise. Aiko, now a Chunin with three students and hospital duties, usually slept by 10:00 PM.
Clearly, it was time for "The Talk."
Tetsumaru sat across from them and took a sip of the cup his mother pushed toward him... plain water. This world is so weird. Tea and alcohol are banned for kids, but smoking is fine, and they encourage child soldiers and middle-school romance.
Gulp, gulp, gulp. He drained the glass. "I'm ready."
"Tetsumaru, you've been pulling all-nighters for six months," Aiko started.
"Yes."
"Is it really necessary to push yourself this hard?" Wafu asked.
"Yes."
"You're only nine."
"War is coming," Tetsumaru said flatly. "Can I avoid the battlefield?"
"A ninja must fight," Wafu answered, speaking from the perspective of a Konoha shinobi.
"Then I have to use every second to get stronger."
The room went silent. Wafu was solemn; Aiko's eyes were turning red.
Tetsumaru took off his sunglasses and looked at his reflection in the lenses. His dark circles were so deep they were practically permanent. He didn't look like Gaara; he looked more like Seven from Scissor Seven—only the bottom of his eyes were dark.
He put the shades back on and sighed impatiently. "Besides, have you two considered that I've been staying in that lab for six months to give you some alone time?"
"Huh?"
"Time to make me a little brother or sister."
Aburame Wafu: Σ(っ°Д°;)っ Aburame Aiko: ╰(＊°▽°＊)╯
Better if it's a bratty little brother. Once you guys start a 'New Game Plus' with a second kid, you won't have time to nag me.
"GET OUT!!" Wafu roared.
Tetsumaru shrugged and headed upstairs, leaving two very flustered adults behind.
Once he reached his door, he counted to thirty in his head. Then, he took off his shoes and silently crawled back to the top of the stairs to peek into the living room.
Aburame Wafu & Aburame Aiko: (＊￣3)(ε￣＊)
Stuffed to the brim with "dog food," Tetsumaru crept back to his room. If they caught him now, he'd definitely be treated to a "Mixed Doubles" thrashing that would last until dawn.
Before falling asleep, he did the math. At a rate of 400 combinations a night, it would take him 440 days to finish. He didn't have that kind of time. War would likely break out by graduation, and as a Genin, he'd be assigned to a squad and sent on missions. He wouldn't have five hours of research time then.
Starting tomorrow, he'd have to bump it up to 500 combinations a night. Only then could he finish before graduation.