In the Senju compound, Uzumaki Mito had learned that her granddaughter would be arriving back in the village today. For a rare change, she had stepped out of her room and was now sunning herself on the engawa, waiting.
"Is that Tatsuma and Minato?"
Suddenly, Mito's brow furrowed. She could sense their chakra signatures, but... Tatsuma's gave her pause. Compared to three months ago, when his chakra was about the size of a tea cup, it was now...
Practically as large as two tea cups.
Of course, Mito was measuring this against her own reserves, which she viewed as a massive water tank. While Tatsuma's current volume was still negligible in her eyes, for the boy himself, it had nearly doubled.
In just three months, Tatsuma's transformation had exceeded Mito's expectations. Compared to Minato, who looked almost identical to how he did three months prior, Tatsuma's change was nothing short of a complete overhaul.
Tatsuma himself was surprised by the growth. He had initially thought the [Vast] augmentation would give him a thirty-percent boost at best; he hadn't expected it to double his capacity outright. The chakra he could currently deploy was nearly at the threshold of a Jonin.
Naturally, his refinement speed and physical recovery were still far behind a true Jonin. If a Jonin could deplete and replenish their chakra four or five times a day, Tatsuma's current recovery rate could only support one full replenishment.
Furthermore, this extra capacity wasn't reflected on his system panel. His [Energy] actualization remained in the four-thousand range; the Extra Augmentation was a separate multiplier.
His strength had followed a similar trajectory, nearly doubling in terms of explosive output. It was enough to make Tatsuma's heart sing.
Over the last few days, Tatsuma had begun to suspect that other ninja—specifically those whose talents had reached Jonin levels—likely possessed similar "augmentations," even if they hadn't consciously identified them.
Take Minato, for example. Previously, his thinking speed had utterly eclipsed Tatsuma's. He had never needed to force himself to think faster. But lately, because he found himself unable to keep up with Tatsuma's new processing speed, Minato's body and consciousness were making unconscious adjustments.
Three days ago, during their spar, the "mental chess" of their duel could only last fifty or sixty exchanges. By this morning, during their final rest before entering the village, Minato could keep up for over a hundred.
Tatsuma's advantage lay in his ability to see his progress and actively toggle his "Extra Augmentations." For other ninja, these were invisible talents; they had to stumble upon them or develop them through trial and error.
Minato, for instance, used Tatsuma as a constant benchmark. Whenever he felt he had caught up in a specific area, he would subconsciously slow down his focus there to shore up other weaknesses. But the moment he realized he was lagging behind Tatsuma in something, his innate genius would kick into overdrive to close the gap.
It was as if his talent was screaming: "Damn it, this master is so useless he lost again! Guess I have to work harder!"
Tatsuma figured that given enough time, Minato would catch up in thinking speed again, even if physical traits like chakra volume and raw power took longer to develop.
The two boys chatted as they made their way deep into the Senju compound. Since they were safely within the village, they hadn't been actively sensing their surroundings. Entering the courtyard to find Uzumaki Mito staring directly at them gave them both a start.
Minato, in particular, quickly bowed his head in a respectful greeting. "Lady Mito, was I being too noisy? Did I disturb you?"
Tatsuma looked a bit sheepish as well. His discussion with Minato had been rather spirited. Knowing that the elderly generally preferred peace and quiet, he assumed they had indeed annoyed her.
Mito waved a hand dismissively and patted the spot on the wooden deck beside her. "Nawaki and Kushina are out training and haven't returned yet. Your teachers are likely busy with their debriefings, aren't they? Come, sit and wait."
Seeing that she wasn't angry, the two boys stepped lightly onto the porch and sat down. Mito studied them. Minato hadn't changed much physically, save for a loss of some baby fat in his cheeks—likely due to the meager rations in the field or perhaps the first stirrings of a growth spurt.
Tatsuma, however, was a different story. Beyond the physical changes, Mito noticed his eyes.
In the past, Tatsuma's eyes were bright with a youthful energy, yet they had been clouded by the pragmatism and cynicism of someone who had faced the hardships of life too early. He had always seemed "old for his age."
But now, the gloom was gone. Though his gaze was even more thoughtful—lacking the simple innocence or dullness typical of children his age—it was filled with a profound confidence. He gave off an aura of absolute reliability.
He looked just like... Tobirama.
Mito couldn't help but think of her late brother-in-law. Her gaze soon drifted to the left shoulder of Tatsuma's clothes, noting the dense patchwork of stitches and the dark, un-washable stains of old blood. Her brow furrowed again.
She didn't ask. She knew this was the path every shinobi had to walk. She reached out and gently smoothed the hair on the back of their heads.
"Your hair has grown, and your clothes are getting a bit tight. Go take a bath. Nawaki has some clothes he's never even worn that don't fit him anymore; I'll find them for you later."
Seeing the boys open their mouths to politely decline, Mito expertly cut them off. "If you don't wear them, I'll just have to throw them out. It would be a waste."
Faced with that classic grandmotherly logic, Tatsuma and Minato nodded and accepted.
Only then did Mito ask, "By the way, Tatsuma... your chakra volume seems to have grown quite rapidly lately."
Tatsuma nodded. He knew he couldn't hide it from someone like Mito. Even Tsunade could see it, let alone the greatest living sensor. He let a thought spin and replied, "I just woke up today and suddenly had more chakra. I'm not sure what happened. Sensei said she wants to give me a check-up."
Mito looked puzzled but didn't press him. She simply said, "Waking up to find your chakra has increased... I've seen that happen plenty of times. Don't worry about it."
Mito had indeed seen it. When she was a girl, she had woken up every day to find her reserves growing. Many of her clansmen were the same.
Her children, her granddaughter, and even Uzumaki Kushina—whom she now viewed as a granddaughter—experienced the same thing. Kushina's chakra levels were constantly fluctuating and expanding as she grew.
However, Mito also knew that for most people, increasing chakra was a slow, grueling process of manual refinement. The efficiency was pitiful; for some, a lifetime of work wouldn't equal the growth she had experienced in a single year as a youth.
Tatsuma realized Mito was trying to comfort him, telling him not to worry. He wasn't worried in the slightest, but beside him, Minato's eyes suddenly lit up.
Could I also wake up one day and suddenly have massive chakra reserves?
It sounded like a fairy tale, but... Tatsuma shared a tent with him, and it had actually happened. And Lady Mito said it wasn't an isolated case...
If people could just "wake up" to more power, why couldn't it be him?
Minato quickly quelled the flight of fancy. He wasn't the type to chase shortcuts, but today, his envy had momentarily gotten the better of him.
As they chatted, Tatsuma noticed that the ninja who usually cared for Mito were nowhere to be seen. Even though Mito only had a few attendants normally, it was strange for the compound to be this empty. He wasn't sure if Mito had dismissed them or if the war effort had finally drained the village of even domestic support staff.
On the way home, he had heard from the communications unit that the Hidden Cloud was stirring. Though they hadn't left their borders, they were massing troops at the frontier. No one believed they were just there for the scenery.
After a while, Mito hurried them off to the baths. She produced a set of Nawaki's old-but-new clothes. Though they smelled a bit of cedar from being stored, they were a thousand times better than the grime of the Land of Rain.
Once they were clean, Nawaki and Kushina returned from the Academy. Seeing them, Nawaki got all fired up and... immediately went to do extra training.
Kushina, on the other hand, dragged Minato aside to hear about the battlefield. Even though Minato had spent the last few months mostly in hiding and didn't have any heart-pounding tales to share this time, Kushina listened with rapt attention. The girl seemed to have an innate love for shinobi stories.
Tsunade didn't return until just before dinner. After a thorough examination of Tatsuma, she could find nothing wrong. She eventually chalked it up to an early growth spurt. Time was a ninja's most valuable resource, but it was also the blade that eventually cut them down; a sudden surge in development wasn't unheard of in geniuses.
In the weeks that followed, Tatsuma resumed his training routine. He made time to reconnect with his classmates and check in on the progress of his Project Innovation, offering suggestions here and there.
Through Tsunade, he stayed informed about the negotiations in the Land of Rain.
Progress was agonizingly slow. While Konoha and Suna had a temporary ceasefire, neither was willing to be the first to blink and leave the country. Konoha's stance was singular: We can stop fighting, but only if we walk away as the victors.
Negotiations like this could drag on for months. Tatsuma knew of one historical war where peace talks had lasted for two full years.
He could guess why Konoha was content to let things drag: the threat from the Land of Lightning to the north. While Kumogakure hadn't made a move, their presence on the border forced Konoha to keep their guard up.
Konoha was stalling for a clear signal from the Cloud. If Kumogakure declared war, Tatsuma suspected Konoha would immediately announce a full withdrawal from the Rain, leaving only a token force to hold the line against Suna while everyone else rushed north.
After all, the Sand had been on the back foot for nearly a year. Their morale and manpower were shaky. Unless they deployed their Tailed Beast, they couldn't break the Konoha defensive line quickly.
The Land of Lightning was different. They had been building their strength for years. Their military expansion, manpower, and resources were at a peak. If war broke out there, Konoha would have to prioritize the Cloud's armored legions.
But the Cloud refused to give a straight answer. They just hovered on the border. If asked, they simply called it a "training exercise."
A month into the stalemate, Hanzo finally snapped. Feeling insulted by the major powers using his country as a waiting room, he flipped the table. He issued a formal declaration of war simultaneously against the Land of Fire, the Land of Wind, and the Land of Iron.
The Land of Iron, still shaking off the winter frost, could only respond with: Excuse me?!
At Training Ground Three, Nawaki—who was currently using a two-month-old Might Guy as a living weight for his back—watched with envy as Tatsuma and Minato received their new mission scrolls.
"You're heading back to the front already? Must be nice. I still have another month of the semester left."
Tatsuma and Minato didn't share his excitement. A year ago, Minato might have been eager, but after seeing the reality of the battlefield, he understood the cold cruelty of war.
Tatsuma unfurled his scroll. He noticed they weren't being sent back to the Rain. He looked at Minato, who had a similar look of confusion in his eyes.
"Are you being sent to the Land of Iron, too?" Tatsuma asked.
Minato nodded. It seemed they were on the same assignment once again.