It's unsettling how much you can come to care about someone without really knowing them. It gives you a kind of emotional whiplash—when you think you've got someone figured out, only for them to do something completely beyond anything you could've imagined.
"…And with an overabundance of arboreal resources in Konoha, a paper production and printing company would fill a vital niche in the market…"
It wasn't a feeling I had much experience with in my past life—aside from a few particularly egregious circumstances—and I certainly hadn't felt it at all in this one, thanks to my near-total lack of a social life. So I wasn't prepared for it. Had no frame of reference.
"…Profit projections, based on the current state of the economy, show we'd break even on the initial capital investment within a matter of weeks once full production capability is achieved…"
Even if I had been expecting it, out of the few people in my life, Kuro would've been the last one I'd expect it from.
"…In conclusion, the abundance of trees in Konoha is a resource waiting to be tapped. If approached ethically and with long-term sustainability in mind, profits are all but guaranteed," Kuro concluded, finishing the presentation of our business proposal to the Hokage and a panel of teachers who were serving as judges.
Well—I say "our" project, but it had been entirely her work. I'd completely blanked on the assignment, forgot it even existed until our sadistic bitch of a teacher reminded the class. Fortunately, Kuro had done it all—for both of us—and, surprisingly, she had done it flawlessly.
"Very well said, Hidachi-chan. Well done, all of you," the Hokage said with a nod. "I'm proud to see such capable youth emerging from Konoha. I'll speak with your teacher, and the winner will be chosen shortly."
Kuro smiled then—an unfamiliar smile. Small. Demure. Ladylike. Close-mouthed and dripping with humility.
In other words, nothing like how Kuro actually smiled.
Obviously it was an act. Though strangely, she hadn't bothered with any kind of performance the first time we'd met the Hokage in his office. Then again, the Kuro I met at first was very different from the one she became after we'd spent some time together.
I watched her carefully as she stepped away from the teachers and made her way back to me. Her face wore that same sweet, polite smile—but her eyes… her eyes were like still water at night. Too calm. Too dark. Empty of any real feeling. That flatness, that blankness, was almost more disturbing than if she'd looked openly hostile.
Then her gaze flicked to me—and the shift was jarring.
Her smile widened—open-mouthed now—flashing pointed canines that gleamed in the light. Murderous. Her eyes burned too, igniting with a manic warmth that leapt past affection and dove straight into something far more unhinged.
It relieved me to see she was still Kuro underneath all that performance.
...I think at this point it's best to accept that I was a bit crazy myself—because that smile being a source of comfort really shouldn't make sense otherwise.
She joined me at our seat in the back of the class. We'd been given the option for one or both of us to present the business model. Naturally, Kuro took the lead. I hadn't even known what our proposal was until she stood up to present it.
"…That was… where did that come from?" I asked, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.
She gave me a smug look and reached out to take my hand, I didn't refuse her.
"Daddy owns a bunch of companies. I help him draft proposals for his investors sometimes," she said casually, idly tracing patterns on the back of my hand.
I forgot Kuro was rich. I also forgot she had a parent.
…A parent who might be very interested in the hospitalization of his daughter.
… and the state of her paternity.
"Your dad wants to meet me, doesn't he?"
"Yeah! How'd you know?"
"Just a hunch."
Seems like I had another meeting that had political ramifications, I wouldn't be going into this one half cocked though. This time I would do my research on Konoha's policies, the political scene and exactly what this whole proxy status business is about.
Given how busy my schedule was, that probably meant I was pushing this meeting back a day or two. I'll show up with a gift to apologise.
A few minutes later, our teacher returned to gleefully announce that another boy had received the offer. That ticked me off a bit. None of the other presenters were slouches, but Kuro had clearly been the standout.
The little talk I got from the Hokage before he left cleared things up.
It turned out that my proxy status came with more than political immunity—it also granted me absurdly favorable loan rates for starting a business anywhere within the Land of Fire. Basically free capital.
Hashirama-sama had really believed in that "kill them with kindness" approach, huh?
Kuro didn't seem to care one way or another.
School ended, and we headed off to pick up Naruko and Hinata.
As usual, the moment I crossed the academy threshold I was assaulted by a human missile—but a quick glance at the fringe of dark blue hair told me I had the wrong girl in my arms.
"Ne," Naruko piped up from behind her. "I told her about… you know, what happened. She's been pretty upset." she said with a sympathetic smile directed at Hinata.
Hinata trembled in my arms, holding me tighter. This was a stronger reaction than I expected. Maybe I held a higher place in her heart than I realized.
Nice.
After spending a moment comforting her, we made our way to the training ground.
"All right, Dog-san, time for my lessons." I called out to my hidden ANBU guard.
A blur heralded the arrival of an ANBU operative. Just… not the one I expected.
"…Who are you?"
The ANBU before us wore a cat mask instead of a dog's, and had shaggy brown hair rather than silver spikes.
"My designation is Kinoe. I'll be stepping in for Dog while he's… indisposed."
"…Indisposed with what?"
"Disciplinary action."
Ah. That made sense. Kakashi's job was to protect me, so if I'd been put in preventable danger, he would've been held responsible. Still, I hadn't expected the Hokage to actually punish an elite jounin over little old me.
Then again, he had failed his mission.
I tried not to feel too bad for him.
"I'm aware Dog-san was serving as your instructor," Kinoe said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "My training methods are… unsuitable for your goals. So ask what you wish to learn, and I'll do my best to explain."
I considered this for a moment, then shook my head.
"Has the Hokage read you in on the recent S-Class secret?"
Kinoe turned his gaze deliberately toward Kuro, who was watching him just as intently.
"He has."
"Good. Can you spend the afternoon teaching us genjutsu?"
"Of course."
"Hey, what about me?" Naruko piped up.
"Your training regimen has already been determined." Kinoe reached into his vest and handed her a scroll.
"Leaf sticking exercise?! What do I need that for?!"
"Balancing multiple leaves in different positions will train chakra control and multitasking—skills required for the jutsu created by Hanama-san. Unless they're too difficult for you. I am aware of your academic standing."
"Screw you, pussy-face!"
I choked on laughter. Naruko puffed up like a cat and clutched the scroll to her chest.
"I'll master these exercises, you'll see! I'll master them so hard, you'll—you'll…"
Unable to finish her threat, she turned on her heel and marched off like a woman on a mission.
"…So. To begin genjutsu—"
"Sorry for the interruption. I just need to talk to Hinata first." I said with a polite bow.
I took her hand and led her to the side.
"Hinata… how would you feel about me helping you with your Byakugan?"
She blinked up at me, shocked.
"You can say no," I added quickly. "I promise I won't get angry."
I had some theories about mastering bloodlines—and I needed a sorcerer's assistance to test them out. Nothing dangerous. Just… unconventional—in this world at least.
Hinata studied my face, her pale eyes steady. After a moment, she gave a small, hesitant nod.
"Excellent. How familiar are you with meditation?"
"It's mandatory for younger clan members. We practice focus and meditation daily," she replied.
I nodded.
"What does it feel like to use the Byakugan—emotionally, I mean? What emotional state do you associate with it?"
"I-I'm not sure," she murmured. "When I use it, I just feel… focused."
"Okay. Why don't you meditate and try to feel it out?"
Hinata seated herself in front of me and closed her eyes.
Sorcery—the way I thought of it—is not an intellectual craft like wizardry, where magic is shaped by structured logic, and external knowledge. Sorcery is instinctive and inborn—it flows from the body and soul. And the soul speaks in emotion.
A sorcerer's bloodline—the source of their innate magical potential—is often tied to powerful entities or forces (dragons, fey, demons, celestial beings, etc.). These origins aren't logical. They are primal, symbolic, and deeply emotional in nature. The rage of a red dragon, the alien detachment of an aberration, the sorrow of a banshee—all of these are emotional archetypes.
To tap into that bloodline fully, a sorcerer must be able to resonate emotionally with it. Just like striking the right chord on an instrument, only certain emotional states will "vibrate" in harmony with the bloodline's latent magic. Mastery requires not only understanding that resonance, but being able to reproduce it on command.
At least that's how I thought of it, I could be wrong. It was a very strong starting place though.
That was what I was trying to teach her.
It wasn't going well.
Hinata could meditate just fine. But identifying the emotion that powered her Byakugan? That was harder. With every question I asked, she grew more uncertain, more upset. I could see it was wearing on her.
I had to help.
An idea had been kicking around in my mind for a while, one inspired by the Third Hokage's notes on chakra networks.
I moved behind Hinata and placed a hand gently on her back. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed without even turning—probably using her Byakugan to see me.
Spiritual and physical energy don't mix naturally—not because they're incompatible, but because there's no built-in mechanism for them to meet. Monks in the stories I read from my old life overcame that by refining their mind and body until they could force the meeting.
The chakra network simplified things by automatically connecting spiritual and physical energy.
That got me thinking.
Kakashi had explained that my clone technique used yin-aspected chakra to maintain shared thoughts—essentially a mental tether.
So… could a similar tether connect two people's spiritual energies? Could I build a temporary mental bridge using yin chakra?
Tempting. Really tempting.
But I hesitated. The last time I tested a jutsu on a friend, it ended badly.
"Kinoe-san," I called. "I have a question."
I explained my theory and what I intended to do.
"There should be no issue if neither of the clones experienced harm," he replied with clinical calm.
I nodded and began mentally assembling the hand seals—about two dozen of them—connected to clone communication.
Hive-mind clone? Whatever. I'll name it later.
A strand of yin-aspected chakra stretched from my forehead to the back of Hinata's head. At first, it felt like I was reaching out into empty air.
Then I felt her reach back.
And my world expanded.
The Byakugan didn't just grant 360° vision—it gave X-ray, microscopic, and telescopic sight. Everything in crisp, crystalline detail.
This is how you see the world? I stammered mentally, overwhelmed.
Hinata didn't answer verbally, but over the link I felt a wave of shy flattery. Even without seeing her face, I knew her expression was adorable.
You're incredible, Hinata.
Her emotions flared—embarrassed, flustered—and with that, our connection snapped.
But that was okay.
This was a great start.
It took a few more tries, but eventually, we got the connection to hold. With me watching from the side, Hinata finally sank into the sensation of the Byakugan. I felt her chakra shift, flowing up into her eyes as the world peeled open before her—layer by layer, reality fell away beneath the weight of those pale orbs.
It was a fascinating feeling, but I turned my awareness elsewhere. I could study the mechanics later. Right now, I was here to learn something more elusive—the emotional state that allowed the Byakugan to reach its true potential.
I focused on Hinata's perception, doing my best to match her feelings to the ease with which she used her dōjutsu. I listened to her emotions as though they were my own, and eventually, I reached a conclusion.
At first, I thought it was pride—maybe even arrogance. That made sense, given how the strongest Hyūga I'd met so far—Hiashi and Neji—carried themselves. Every time the strain of using her Byakugan eased, it was during moments when Hinata was either immersed in her meditation or focused on me… times when she wasn't looking down on herself.
But as I studied more closely, I realized it wasn't arrogance that powered the Byakugan.
It was indifference.
That was the emotional state the Byakugan seemed to thrive in—detachment. A serene, emotionless stillness. It made me wonder what kind of being such a bloodline could have descended from. To gaze out over miles of life and motion and feel nothing... not awe, not fear, not compassion.
A god? A celestial? The pale eyes and ethereal presence pointed in that direction. But that was just speculation. What I did know was that this mindset wasn't good for Hinata.
She was too kind, too soft-hearted, to naturally embrace such a void.
I'd try to come up with a workaround eventually, but for now, there was no getting around the truth. She wasn't cut out for it but she'd just have to try.
When I explained my theory and the conclusions I'd drawn, Hinata's expression crumpled. She was self-aware enough to recognize that this would be a problem.
"Just do your best, Hinata. We'll figure something out, I promise," I told her gently.
"Thank you, Izuku-kun," she replied, offering a wan smile.
I stood and walked over to Kinoe and Kuro.
"Sorry for taking so long."
"…That was…" Kinoe paused, searching for words. "I have no explanation. Why do you make the assumptions you do? Why presume emotions correlate with a kekkei genkai?"
His tone was flat as ever, but there was something like awe behind the question.
I shrugged. "It just made sense?"
I couldn't exactly tell him I was making leaps of logic based on stories I'd consumed in a past life.
He stared at me, his dark eyes unreadable behind his mask, then turned and walked off.
"Follow," he said over his shoulder.
Once we were a good distance away from Hinata, he stopped and turned to us.
"Sit."
We obeyed.
"Genjutsu refers to any technique that manipulates perception. The Sharingan gives its user a massive advantage in this field. It can see chakra-based illusions and, more importantly, cast genjutsu instantly—just with eye contact," he explained, mostly addressing Kuro.
"The first genjutsu I'll be teaching you is the Paralysis Jutsu. D-rank."
He demonstrated the hand signs—just four of them.
It was Kuro's first jutsu, so it took her a dozen tries to get it right. Which was insane, considering she hadn't even done the leaf-sticking exercise.
Freakin' sorcerers.
I got it on the first try—and then did it again without the hand signs. Kinoe had me cast it on him, and since I didn't use any signs, he didn't see it coming. He actually froze for a moment. He dispelled it quickly, of course, but I'd caught him. Even for a split second, it was impressive.
The rest of the training session passed with Kuro and me flinging seal-less paralysis jutsu back and forth while Kinoe watched in silence from the sidelines, interjecting with corrections from time to time.
—scene break—
Kakashi shivered as hands wandered to places they had no business being.
"Hmmm… Kakashi-san, have you been training more than usual?" purred a feminine voice, wheezing slightly through heavy jowls. "You feel… extra hard."
He silently thanked his mask for hiding the cringe that twisted across his face. Unfortunately, in a few minutes, it would be the only article of clothing he'd still be wearing.
"I can't wait to find out just how hard," Kyomi breathed, her body straining against the limits of her already indecent attire.
She was the favored daughter of one of the daimyō's ministers—and more importantly, a regular fountain of easily acquired intel.
At least, once she'd been properly satisfied.
"Yeah, I'm gonna find out all right," she giggled, voice low and husky. "I'm gonna find out all night. Huehuehue…"
It was a shadow clone, of course—he wouldn't be the one physically doing it. But still...
Kakashi hated seduction missions.