Konoha.
Swish! Swish!
Tonbo landed silently on a rooftop, his chakra flared in a tight sensory pulse.
The village was still scarred, but the panic of the Nine-Tails attack had settled into a grim, determined rhythm of reconstruction. Tonbo patrolled his assigned sector with meticulous care.
Even though the war was over and the Fox was gone, he didn't relax.
Chaos breeds opportunity, he thought, scanning the alleyways. Every village has spies. Sleepers like Kabuto are always watching.
He moved like a phantom, checking blind spots and chakra signatures. But the night was quiet. The only thing he found was grief.
Near the Memorial Stone, he paused.
A small boy sat alone in front of the cold granite, clutching a bouquet of white chrysanthemums.
Iruka Umino.
He was crying silently, his small shoulders shaking.
Tonbo watched him from the shadows of an oak tree. He felt a pang of sympathy, but he didn't intervene.
The Third Hokage will be here soon, Tonbo recalled. Hiruzen is the one who comforts him. That's the script.
Tonbo turned away and continued his patrol.
Swish!
He practiced his Body Flicker Technique with every jump. Over the last year, he had absorbed movement techniques from Kumo and Iwa prisoners, refining his D-rank shunshin into something faster and more fluid.
A passing patrol squad blinked as a blur of grey bandages vanished past them.
"Did he just signal us?" one Chunin asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah. That was the Analysis Team's sensor. Fast as a ghost," his partner muttered.
Tonbo slid onto his stool, exhausted but happy.
"Tonbo-kun! You worked hard today!"
Ayame beamed at him, placing a steaming bowl on the counter. It was loaded with extra chashu pork—the "boyfriend special."
"Ah, smells like heaven," Tonbo inhaled deeply. Slurp! "Ayame, your cooking has officially surpassed the old man's."
Smack!
A wooden ladle tapped the counter dangerously close to his hand.
"Boy, are you asking for a beating?" Teuchi grumbled, his eyes narrowed in a smile that didn't quite reach them. "Don't praise her by stepping on me."
"Of course not, Boss," Tonbo grinned with his mouth full. "You're the god of ramen. She's just the goddess."
Teuchi huffed, turning back to his broth. He knew the kid was flattering him, but he couldn't hate someone who ate with such gusto.
Tonbo finished the bowl in record time. His own cooking skills were actually quite high—thanks to his accelerated learning—but there was something about food made by Ayame that tasted better than anything he could make himself.
"See you tomorrow," Tonbo waved, slipping out into the night.
Ayame watched him go, resting her chin on her hand with a dreamy sigh.
Tobitake Residence.
When Tonbo arrived home, his father was sitting on the porch, surrounded by piles of dried reeds and bamboo strips.
Tosei Tobitake was weaving. His single hand moved with practiced dexterity, turning the stiff grass into intricate figurines. It was a hobby that brought in a little extra ryo, but mostly it kept his mind off the arm he lost.
Tonbo watched him for a moment, an idea sparking in his brain.
"Dad. Teach me how to do that."
Tosei looked up, surprised. "Why? Are you making a gift for Ayame?"
"Something like that," Tonbo lied smoothly.
In reality, he was thinking about his Hiden.
His current Genjutsu style relied on direct mental intrusion. But what if the enemy had a mental firewall? What if they had no nerves to hijack?
He needed a medium. A physical anchor for his illusions.
If I can infuse Yin Release into a physical object...
"Fine," Tosei sighed. "Sit down. It's not easy with two hands, let alone one."
He began to explain the weave patterns. "Over, under, twist the node here..."
Tonbo watched. His mind deconstructed the geometry instantly.
"Like this?"
Tonbo picked up a strip of bamboo. His fingers flew. Within minutes, a perfect replica of Tosei's dragonfly sat in his palm.
Tosei stared. "You... have you done this before?"
"Nope. First time."
Tonbo grabbed more reeds. "What if I modify the structural integrity here?"
In less than an hour, Tonbo wasn't just copying; he was improvising. He wove complex shapes—warriors, beasts, even a caricature of Ayame—faster than Tosei could explain the next step.
Tosei felt a cold sweat break out. The kid is a monster. He learned my life's hobby in forty minutes.
"Get out of here!" Tosei waved him off, feigning annoyance to hide his shock. "Go play in your room. You're giving me a headache."
Tonbo chuckled and retreated to his bedroom, clutching the woven figure of Ayame.
Room 404 (Tonbo's Bedroom).
He sat cross-legged on his bed, the bamboo doll in his lap.
He closed his eyes.
Yin Release: Form Creation.
He molded his chakra, skewing the ratio heavily toward Spiritual Energy. He didn't just coat the doll; he infused it with intention.
Secret Technique: Effigy Animation.
The chakra seeped into the dry reeds.
Suddenly, the doll twitched.
In Tonbo's vision—and in the vision of anyone looking at it—the bamboo figure began to blur. The crude weaving smoothed out. Skin appeared. Clothes formed.
Standing on his bed was a miniature, perfect replica of Ayame.
She looked at him silently.
"Success," Tonbo breathed.
He twitched his finger. The mini-Ayame walked across the duvet, moving with natural grace.
It wasn't a clone. It was a projected illusion anchored to a physical medium.
The principle is similar to Sai's Super Beast Imitating Drawing, Tonbo analyzed. But instead of ink, I'm using woven effigies. The physical object acts as the skeleton; my Yin chakra provides the flesh and the mind.
"But she's empty," he noted.
The figure had no autonomy. It was a puppet.
To make this battle-ready, he needed to inject combat data.
He had thousands of memories stolen from enemy ninja. Sword styles from Kiri. Taijutsu from Iwa.
If I reverse the Mind Transmission technique... I can upload a combat personality into the effigy.
He could weave a samurai doll and upload a master swordsman's reflexes into it. He could weave a beast and upload a wolf's hunting instincts.
"Creation of all things from nothing," Tonbo whispered, quoting the Sage of Six Paths. "This is the true power of Yin Release."
It wasn't ready for combat yet. He needed to refine the memory transfer protocol. But the foundation was laid.
"I can do this," Tonbo smiled, dispelling the jutsu. The doll collapsed back into a pile of reeds.
"Now, back to the grind."