In the Hokage's office.
Sarutobi Hiruzen, in his prime, exhaled a long puff of smoke while holding a recent intelligence report on the Land of Fire's borders in his other hand.
"Hiruzen, I don't understand why you'd place such a useless person in Class A. It's a waste of teaching resources," Mitokado Homura said, his face filled with confusion. Utatane Koharu also cast a puzzled glance at Hiruzen.
The news that an Uchiha had produced a shinobi incapable of using ninjutsu had already spread throughout Konoha. After all, the Uchiha clan, known for its geniuses, had birthed an unprecedented failure, which naturally drew attention.
What confused the two elders wasn't just Uchiha Kin's placement in Class A but the fact that Hiruzen had specifically ordered it. And since it involved the Uchiha, they had no choice but to question it. In a way, the Uchiha were always a destabilizing factor in the village.
"The Uchiha and the village need a channel for communication," Hiruzen said solemnly, setting down the documents. "Perhaps he's our opportunity to bridge that gap."
What mattered was that he posed no threat.
An Uchiha without threat was the perfect bridge between the village and the clan. Though his later decisions had been questionable and he was prone to vanity, Hiruzen genuinely wanted to unite the village—even the Uchiha were part of it, weren't they?
"Let's hope so," Homura and Koharu replied, though they held little optimism.
After all, the proud Uchiha had long refused to engage with the village, partly due to the systems left by their teacher, Senju Tobirama, and partly because of their own subtle antagonism. But of course, the fault couldn't possibly lie with them.
"Where's Danzō?" Homura asked, glancing around.
Usually, when it came to Uchiha matters, Shimura Danzō would be the first to appear. Yet this time, he was nowhere to be seen. He was the one who had truly inherited their teacher's animosity toward the Uchiha.
"He's of no concern here," Hiruzen said cryptically.
Uchiha Kin's "talent" held no interest for Danzō. The boy couldn't even use ninjutsu, let alone awaken the Sharingan. Danzō couldn't be bothered with such trivial matters. As for Hiruzen's plan to build a bridge with the Uchiha, Danzō had no intention of participating—he believed it was doomed to fail.
Just then, a figure suddenly appeared in the office.
An ANBU agent, masked and kneeling respectfully, reported, "Lord Hokage, Uchiha Kin has made contact with the jinchūriki."
The atmosphere in the room instantly grew heavy. The memory of Uchiha Madara controlling the Nine-Tails to attack the village was still fresh in their minds. Any Uchiha approaching the jinchūriki was bound to set off alarm bells.
"Leave it be," Hiruzen said calmly, as if the potential threat meant nothing to him.
It was almost laughable.
An Uchiha who couldn't even use ninjutsu—what threat could he possibly pose?
"Yes, sir!"
The ANBU vanished in a puff of smoke.
"Hiruzen, I hope your decision is the right one," Koharu said, her gaze piercing.
Even an Uchiha contacting the Nine-Tails didn't warrant intervention? It was clear Hiruzen was determined to support this Uchiha Kin. But the Uchiha clan might not accept it—they might even see it as an insult.
That was a very real possibility.
But they weren't the Hokage.
"After all, you're the Hokage."
"Let's hope so."
Hiruzen turned to look out the window, taking in the sight of Konoha. Compared to its former bustling self, the village now seemed a little desolate.
Under the Second Hokage's rule, the village had thrived. Now, it had clearly declined.
"The village..."
Kin led Namikaze Minato and the others to a secluded spot by a small stream.
His eyes casually swept over the distant trees, his sharp senses already detecting the figures hidden within. He pretended not to notice—after all, they wouldn't expect him to have such abilities.
This location had been carefully chosen. To monitor them without being exposed was nearly impossible here. The area was open, the stream shallow and clear, leaving no room for concealment.
Unless, of course, they used Tōton (Transparency Release). But the Gekkō clan was small in number, and their members wouldn't be wasted on guarding—or spying on—a jinchūriki.
Kin's real purpose for choosing this place was to keep their conversation private.
"Um, is it really okay for us to learn an Uchiha's ninjutsu?" Minato asked nervously.
When Kin had mentioned teaching them a technique, Minato had been too dazed to refuse. As a civilian-born shinobi, he had no access to advanced ninjutsu beyond the academy's basic three. The prospect of learning something new had clouded his judgment.
But now, guilt was creeping in. Wouldn't this count as stealing the Uchiha's secrets? Wasn't that unethical?
His moral compass and his desire for knowledge were at odds, leaving him conflicted.
"Relax, it's not an Uchiha technique. It's something I inherited from my parents," Kin reassured him.
If he said he'd created it himself, they'd probably bolt.
"But... Senior, I heard you can't use ninjutsu?" Minato asked, puzzled. Uchiha Kin's reputation was well-known.
Kushina also pricked up her ears, curious.
"It's... complicated," Kin sighed, tilting his head at a 45-degree angle toward the sky as he scrambled for an explanation.
Soon, he had one ready.
"The technique I inherited has low learning requirements but strict conditions. Unless you reach a certain level, you can't activate it. That's why I'm in this situation. But I'm close to a breakthrough, and soon I'll be able to use ninjutsu."
He paused, then added with a dismissive smirk, "If you're worried your talent isn't up to par, we can forget about it."
The condescension in his tone instantly ignited Kushina's temper.
"Who says my talent's lacking?! Show it to me, and I'll master it faster than you!"
"Wait, Kushina!" Minato hurriedly pulled back the fiery redhead, offering Kin an apologetic smile.
"Senior Kin, what exactly does this technique do?"
Minato had confidence in his own talent, but he was also cautious. If learning this technique meant he might lose the ability to use ninjutsu, the consequences would be dire.
A shinobi without ninjutsu was like a tiger without fangs—utterly powerless.
Kin grinned. "You've already seen part of its effects."
Minato thought back.
"Strength, speed, reflexes... all of them seemed beyond the level of a typical genin."
During their earlier spar, Kin had clearly been holding back. The ease with which he dodged attacks had been overwhelming.
"But that's not all," Kin continued. "It also has beautifying effects, extends lifespan, and—once you break through—grants 100% chakra control."
Both of their eyes widened.
Minato: "100% chakra control?!"
Kushina: "Beautifying effects?!"
This was getting more and more unbelievable. Could a ninjutsu really do all that?
Kin had already prepared for this. He pulled a small notebook from his pocket and handed it to Minato.
"Take a look first."
The two pored over the pages, carefully examining the text and the diagrams of the human body at the end. The dense theory behind the technique made it a tough read for Minato.
Kushina, however, let out a soft sound of surprise.
"Is this... a sealing technique?"
"Mm-hmm."
"I've never seen a sealing technique used like this."
Unlike Minato, Kushina had remnants of the Uzumaki clan's sealing knowledge in her mind, making the content easier to grasp. The notebook detailed the method clearly, and based on her calculations, while she couldn't verify the beautifying or lifespan-extending claims, the other effects seemed plausible.
"But why are three sealing techniques linked together?"
That part confused her.
"That's the breakthrough point," Kin explained. "It's essentially the fusion of three sealing techniques. Each completed seal brings a qualitative leap."
Minato couldn't hold back his question.
"Kushina, is this technique really achievable?"
Though the theory was beyond him, the steps were laid out in a foolproof manner.
"Theoretically, yes. Practically? I don't know."
Kushina glanced at Kin. He was likely living proof of its success.
After a moment's hesitation, she added, "If it works as described, it can achieve the effects he mentioned. The first seal is simple, the second is ten times harder, and the third is another tenfold increase in difficulty."
Minato clutched the notebook tightly. For civilian shinobi like them, nothing was more precious than ninjutsu. No one could remain indifferent to such an opportunity—especially one so extraordinary.
But the more excited he grew, the calmer he became. He looked up at Kin and asked,
"Senior, why are you teaching us this so freely? What do you want in return?"
As much as he wanted to believe in the village's camaraderie, logic told him Kin had to have an ulterior motive. What could a civilian like him possibly offer?
His eyes flicked to Kushina, still deep in thought, and he subtly stepped in front of her.
Kin, however, didn't seem to notice. He pondered for a moment.
His real goal was simple: find people to learn the technique, break through his limitations, and escape his current predicament.
But he couldn't reveal the truth about his "golden finger." If he did, some shameless individuals might take the technique and run, practicing it on their own.
Not that it would affect him, but he preferred working with someone like Minato—someone honorable.
He needed a different excuse.
Holding up a finger, he said, "Namikaze Minato, I see great potential in you. So, in exchange, I ask that you promise to do one thing for me in the future—within the bounds of your principles."
Minato fell silent. The request sounded reasonable... or did it?
This kind of deal had never happened in the shinobi world... had it?
At least, not in his memory.
But if that was all...
"I agree. As long as it doesn't violate my principles, I'll do one thing for you in the future."
Kin extended his hand.
"Then it's a deal."
Minato shook it.
"Deal."
Both smiled, though Minato's heart felt slightly heavier.
Kin, on the other hand, was overjoyed.
The Chakra Foundation Internal Art that had restricted him for so long...
The hope for a breakthrough...
Had finally arrived.
(End of Chapter)