Chapter 52: Moonshadow
I spent the next week posted up at our usual training grounds, knee-deep in Fuinjutsu scrolls and ink-stained parchment. My days blurred together—draw, infuse, fail, re-draw, adjust, infuse again. Rinse and repeat.
Even with my chakra control, getting a seal to actually function the way I wanted was a whole other kind of mental gymnastics.
But I didn't mind. I liked it, actually. The solitude, the rhythm, the quiet—Yoru curled up on my shoulder or napping in the sun nearby while I worked.
I kept tabs on Ayumi and Yuki too, of course. The two of them were being constantly deployed. Patrols, missions, scouting—whatever Genin-level work was available, they were on it.
And me?
I wasn't being sent out at all.
…But weirdly enough, it didn't really bother me.
It wasn't like I had nothing to do. Sealing took up more time and focus than I expected, and Jiraiya's notes weren't exactly written for low-level comprehension.
Besides, I did get in the occasional sparring match.
Mostly with Naruto.
Though at this point, I don't know if you could really call it "sparring."
It was more like… Naruto throwing himself at me and me dodging, then lightly tapping him back into the dirt.
My body was already at Elite-Jonin level—physically, there wasn't a single Genin in the village that could keep up with me right now.
Well… except maybe Rock Lee, but even he hadn't sparred me in a while.
After a long day of refining seal formulas and burning through at least a dozen ruined scrolls, I sat back under the shade of a tree and let out a tired sigh. My wrists were cramping, my fingers smelled like ink, and my patience was wearing thin.
"…Time to take a break."
With a lazy hand seal and a small pulse of chakra, I summoned her.
Puff.
In a small swirl of smoke, Yoru appeared on the ground in front of me. I expected the usual—her hopping onto my lap or curling up in my hood.
But this time… she didn't move.
Her little black ears drooped. Her tail swayed slowly. She sat still with her head low, as if she'd just been scolded.
"…Yoru?" I tilted my head.
She didn't answer.
Frowning, I leaned in and gently poked her nose.
She flinched slightly—then looked up at me with big watery eyes. Her usual spark wasn't there.
And then—
"SHIKOMUUUUUUUUUUU!" she wailed, lunging forward and burying her tiny face into my stomach like a child seeking comfort.
"Oof—Hey! What happened?"
She sniffled, her voice muffled by my shirt.
"M-Mom says… she wants to see you."
"…Okay? And?"
"I'm just… I'm scared for you!" she cried dramatically, clinging tighter with her tiny paws. "Mom doesn't like outsiders! She's strong! And moody! And once she threw Uncle into a waterfall!"
"…You have an uncle?"
"Not anymore!!"
"Why does your mom want to see me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes just slightly.
Yoru, still curled up against me like a little emotional dumpling, mumbled into my jacket.
"I dunno... I don't usually listen to Mom."
I stared at her. Deadpan.
She looked back up at me with the most innocent expression her tiny feline face could muster.
...This creature was going to be the death of me.
Most summons didn't request meetings.
Even the snakes were more straightforward than this. 'Okay, you can summon me, just sacrifice a town a day.'
So I did what any rational shinobi would do when staring down a cryptic summons from an emotionally unstable shadow cat clan:
I hit the village archives.
It took a bit of digging—most of the records were dusty, half-sealed, or in that weird calligraphy that made my eyes hurt—but I managed to find a reference scroll.
Only a few paragraphs, yellowed with age.
The Moonshadow Clan.
Darkness-aligned. Specialists in Yin release, just like the Nara.
Not front-line fighters. They excelled in shadow-based travel, stealth recon, and information delivery through the dark.
Used in old wars as messengers when even the Aburame's bugs were too loud.
But that was it.
No names. No known users. Not even a basic description of their hierarchy.
While there were users, it seems like none were ever a prominent ranking member of the village.
Just the name.
Moonshadow.
"…So basically, I signed a chakra contract with the ninja version of the dark web."
Yoru sneezed softly beside me, still curled on my lap.
I stared down at her. She blinked up at me.
"...I should've picked toads."
…
"So you're requesting permission to reverse-summon yourself and meet your summon's mom?" Naido-sensei asked, not even opening his eyes from where he was absolutely not napping on that boulder.
I gave a firm nod. "Yes, sensei."
"Alright." He said with a casual wave of his hand.
I blinked. "Wait—what? That easy? Don't I have to file some kind of permission form to leave the village?"
"You just did."
"...But don't I need, I don't know—approval?"
"You got it."
"...The higher ups literally don't like me. Didn't Danzo put a freeze on my war-time pay?"
Naido cracked open one eye and gave a lazy shrug. "Yeah, they're not your biggest fans right now. But it's fine. I'll handle it."
I narrowed my eyes. "...You say that like you won't just ignore the paperwork."
"I say that because I'll just ignore the paperwork." He yawned.
I stared at him for a long second. He went back to "meditating."
Beside me, Yoru stood proudly, her tiny paw held up like this was a royal decree.
"It shouldn't take more than a day!" she said with confidence.
Naido gave a thumbs-up without looking.
"Well, alright then…" I muttered, sighing.
Time to meet the mother of a shadowy ninja cat clan.
What could possibly go wrong?
"Ready?" Yoru asked, tail twitching excitedly.
I gave a nod, and a second later—
Poof.
In a swirl of smoke and chakra, I vanished from the Hidden Leaf.
…
As Shikomu vanished in a puff of smoke, the air settling behind him, Naido-sensei stood up from his boulder with a long, lazy stretch that cracked his spine in several satisfying pops.
Then, in a blur of motion too fast for even the sharpest Chunin to register, he disappeared.
Within seconds, a gust of displaced wind slammed against the windows of the Hokage's Office.
"Naido," Hiruzen Sarutobi greeted calmly, not looking up from the documents on his desk. The familiar scent of tobacco curled from his pipe.
"What is it?"
Naido stepped forward, hands tucked in his sleeves. "Shikomu's left the village. Something to do with his summoning contract. I've granted him permission—it'll take some time before he returns."
The Third gave a soft hum as he exhaled a puff of smoke.
"How long?"
"Probably a week," Naido replied. Then, after a pause:
"While he's gone… I want his promotion into the Anbu to be streamlined."
That made Hiruzen finally look up.
His brow furrowed.
"Naido… we agreed. Four more months. I need time to convince the others."
"I know what we agreed on." Naido's tone was calm, but resolute. "But I've seen enough. He's already operating on an elite level. Holding him back is only making certain people feel more comfortable—not safer."
Hiruzen tapped his pipe against the ashtray, watching embers fall.
"…Danzo will object."
"I'll deal with Danzo."
"You always say that."
"And I always do."
The room went quiet.
Then Hiruzen chuckled softly under his breath, shaking his head. "You're going to cause me no end of trouble, Naido."
Taking the Hokage's silence as quiet approval, Naido turned without another word and vanished in a silent flicker of chakra.
By the time his feet touched stone again, he stood before a heavily-guarded, nondescript building nestled in a hidden corner of Konoha—Anbu Headquarters.
The guards outside gave no greeting, only subtle nods of acknowledgment.
Naido reached into his robe and pulled out an old mask—white porcelain, painted with sleek red streaks and narrow slits shaped like a fox's eyes. He slipped it over his face in one smooth motion.
The moment the mask clicked into place, the air around him shifted.
He was no longer Naido Namisha, the wandering monk.
He was "Fox."
No one questioned him as he stepped inside.
Through narrow, dim corridors and guarded checkpoints, he passed without hesitation until he arrived at a reinforced door marked with nothing but a small seal.
Inside, a man with tousled brown hair sat at a desk, his legs kicked up casually, reading a scroll through half-lidded eyes.
Naido stepped in and closed the door behind him.
"Hi, Yamato."
The man jolted up.
"SHHHHH, Fox!" he hissed. "We're supposed to use codenames here!"
Naido—Fox—tilted his head ever so slightly. "Relax. The walls don't have ears."
Yamato grumbled and adjusted his owl-themed mask on the table. "Still. Protocol."
Then his tone shifted slightly.
"…Why are you here, Captain? Didn't you retire from the Anbu three years ago?"
Naido walked over, slow and deliberate.
"I came for a favor."
Yamata sat up straighter. "What kind of favor?"
Fox paused, his voice quiet, but firm behind the mask.
"A name needs to be added to the list. Effective immediately."
...
Authors note:
You can read some chapters ahead if you want to on my p#treon.com/Fat_Cultivator