Chapter 98: Two Bodies
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
A blazing fireball, taller than a man, burst from Yakushi Kabuto's mouth, scorching the ground into a wide patch of charred black.
This was the first true field test of Kabuto's reincarnated body—something Nan had arranged on the night before their return march to Konoha. Days of travel had kept him from experimenting, but now, at last, he had found a quiet, secluded spot to see just what this vessel could do.
Ordinarily, Kabuto had no affinity for Fire Release. But Nan had transferred a portion of his own fire-nature chakra to this body, allowing it to wield flames.
Yet the sensation was… strange. Nan himself had honed Fire Release to a level most jōnin could never hope to reach. If it had been his true body, the same chakra expenditure would have produced a roaring inferno. Here, however, the flames felt clumsy, unrefined.
It wasn't that his understanding had dulled—it was like forcing a right-handed man to eat with his left. In theory, he knew exactly how, but the execution lagged behind. The result: higher chakra drain, weaker jutsu.
Next, Nan tested Lightning Release. The result was almost laughable: just a sputter of sparks. Kabuto's body held no trace of lightning affinity. Only by linking with his true self's chakra could he coax out even that faint reaction.
But then came Water Release and Earth Release. To Nan's delight, the difference was negligible. Kabuto's body wielded them with the same ease and strength as his true one—perhaps even better. A few times, Nan felt his techniques surge beyond his norm, as if Kabuto's natural aptitude amplified them.
The pattern was clear: a body's inherent chakra-nature affinity drastically shaped the result. Talent was not just an advantage—it was a multiplier. Even with identical effort, a genius would always reap far more than the ordinary.
Finally came Wind Release—something Nan himself had never possessed. On the Wind Country battlefield, he had copied countless wind-style techniques with his Sharingan, but without the affinity, they had been useless. Now, with Kabuto's body, he had a chance.
Plucking a leaf from a tree, Nan recalled Asuma's old lesson to Naruto: concentrate chakra, split it, sharpen it.
He focused, guiding his energy, grinding it against itself until it felt like a blade. The leaf trembled, then split with a faint tear.
Nan grinned. So this body does have wind-nature talent.
To confirm, he turned toward a nearby stream. His hands blurred through seals, lungs filling with chakra.
"Wind Release: Breakthrough!"
A powerful gust tore from his lips, slamming into the water. The stream shuddered, waves blasting upward as fish were thrown into the air.
Low-level wind jutsu normally required no mastery of chakra nature to perform, but the difference was night and day. With his true body, the same technique barely dented the surface of a pond. Here, it ripped the stream apart.
With this, Nan realized: between his two bodies, he now held all five chakra natures within his grasp.
The next experiment was with the eyes.
Nan focused, infusing chakra into Kabuto's transplanted Sharingan. Instantly, his irises flushed crimson, three tomoe spinning in their deadly dance.
These were not ordinary transplants. Kabuto hadn't inherited Uchiha blood; he had inherited Hua's Sharingan—and part of his ocular power—through Nan's Infinite Reincarnation technique.
Normally, transplanted Sharingan came at a cost. The host's body rejected the alien power, leaving the eyes permanently active. Danzō, Kakashi—both had resorted to sealing techniques just to endure the strain.
But Nan's method rewrote the vessel itself, reshaping Kabuto's body to perfectly harmonize with the eyes. Like a true Uchiha, he could activate and deactivate them at will, suffering no extra burden.
Still, this clone's Sharingan was incomplete. Nan had retained the bulk of his ocular might for his true self. The transplanted eyes lacked the overwhelming force of the Eternal Mangekyō, but they were serviceable.
Nan smirked at the memory of when he first awakened his eternal eyes. The power had nearly been too much. His vision was so sharp it had felt unnatural—seeing things no normal person should ever notice. Even the smallest, ugliest details of the world stood out starkly.
Now, with two bodies—one wielding unrivaled ocular power, the other balancing multiple chakra affinities—he had become something rare in shinobi history: a true master of both bloodline and versatility.
Nan's vision had once been too sharp. With his Eternal Mangekyō, even the tiniest particles of dust in the air stood out crystal clear. At first it was unbearable—like a world constantly under a magnifying glass—but over time he had grown used to it.
Compared to that, the transplanted Sharingan in Kabuto's body was gentler. The world appeared softer, cleaner, almost purified. Nan found himself breathing deeply, as though the very air had become fresher.
Satisfied with his experiments, Nan released the Shadow Phantom Body from within. Though this vessel held great potential, Kabuto's chakra system had never been tempered by true training. It couldn't withstand the strain of Nan's trials.
That was why he had used the Phantom Body's unique trait—its ability to merge with another form and share chakra—to sustain the tests. By linking his own energy, he had allowed this untrained body to wield jutsu it otherwise never could.
"Kabuto! Where are you? Come back for dinner!"
A voice called from afar. It was Nonō, coming to fetch him.
But Nan had sensed her long before. The Phantom Body's perception ability was always active, a safeguard to ensure no one discovered his secret: that a supposedly ordinary orphan of the Wind Country could wield four chakra natures and the Sharingan. The moment anyone drew near, he immediately ceased testing and restored the scene to normal.
Scooping up the fish he had stunned from the stream, Nan jogged toward the sound of her voice.
Nonō saw Kabuto approaching with the catch in his arms and smiled warmly.
"You disappeared so early in the morning—just to catch fish?"
Kabuto nodded, replying with an innocent earnestness:
"I thought the meals at the orphanage weren't that good. So I wanted to bring back some fish, to give everyone something better to eat."
A ripple of warmth passed through Nonō's heart. Since the war, the orphanage had taken in even more children. More mouths to feed meant greater strain on already thin resources. Despite Konoha's support, managing the household had grown harder, and the burden weighed heavily on her shoulders.
But Kabuto had changed. Unlike the other children, he carried himself with a maturity beyond his years. He not only spared her worry, but even went out of his way to share her burdens.