<<<< New fanfic debut : Naruto: I Can Upgrade My Techniques Infinitely
//// 300 Power Stones to that story = 1 bonus chapter to ALL ONGOING fanfic including :
I Got Killer Queen in Hunter x Hunter ?!
Starting in Ra Dorm as a Fusion Maniac with Super Poly!
No Cheat in Bleach ? Watch me help Aizen then.
Bleach : I Need To Rizz To Become Stronger ?!
Naruto: Monthly Refreshing Stand Abillity
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Unbeknownst to Ishiki Kujo, the second day after his return to the main camp, a new dossier had appeared on the Third Hokage's desk.
The file labeled Kujo Ishiki lay there, along with several others —
including one on Mirinae.
But it wasn't because Hiruzen Sarutobi suspected Ishiki.
Far from it.
The Third was actually considering cultivating him.
Hiruzen believed in human potential — especially the potential honed through suffering and struggle.
The death of Kujo Ryuichi had been a heavy blow to Ishiki.
It drove him to throw himself into the study of medical ninjutsu.
The Night of the Nine Tails —
watching comrades die, helpless to save them —
only fueled his hunger to grow stronger.
In that relentless, burning drive, Ishiki's dormant potential had awakened.
What once seemed a middling aptitude for medical arts had transformed.
He had passed the medic-nin exams first in his class.
A stunning metamorphosis.
Hiruzen was pleased.
He liked children like that —
fierce, diligent, earnest.
Ishiki's worshipful attitude toward the Hokage —
that intense longing —
even reminded Hiruzen of his younger self.
So, he had watched Ishiki from afar.
Renting the Fourth Hokage's old house.
Working late hours at the hospital.
Kind, courteous to everyone.
Surrounding himself with loyal, Konoha-loving friends.
Thus, Hiruzen had decided to give him a trial —
an opportunity.
He had placed Ishiki under Shisui Uchiha's squad, certain that with Shisui's leadership, Ishiki would shine.
And Ishiki had not disappointed.
The Third leafed through Shisui's mission reports now:
Solid battlefield performance.
Mastery of multiple C-rank ninjutsu.
Capability with B-rank techniques.
The benchmark of a Chūnin.
Hiruzen had been delighted.
So much so that when Shisui was recalled, he sent Kawahara Junji next.
To further observe Ishiki.
To evaluate his loyalty.
But the latest report from Kawahara...
It complicated things.
Hardworking. Diligent.
But selfish. Lacking in responsibility.
Emotionally distant from comrades.
Each line of critique was accompanied by concrete examples.
Selfishness?
Lack of responsibility?
Hiruzen dismissed those.
He knew Tsunade's three medical commandments —
and saw Ishiki as faithfully following them.
But that last flaw — emotional coldness?
That... he could not refute.
Kawahara described Ishiki's detached reaction to the deaths of fellow Konoha shinobi.
No grief.
No visible sadness.
Even after witnessing death, he would calmly continue studying.
Perhaps, Hiruzen thought grimly, it was simply the price of seeing too much death too young.
"I had hoped for another Tsunade... but he seems closer to Orochimaru, after all."
A long silence.
Then the Third made his decision.
He abandoned the idea of grooming Ishiki for ANBU reserve.
No —
when the war ended, he would assign Ishiki as a tactical squad leader.
Maybe responsibility over others would deepen his bonds.
Or perhaps he could continue serving quietly at the Konoha Hospital —
a medical pillar, even if slightly flawed.
Either way, Hiruzen would not let his potential rot.
He scribbled down notes on the file, setting Ishiki's future course.
Then moved to the next dossier —
Mirinae's.
Meanwhile, back at camp.
On the second day of rest, Kawahara Junji found Ishiki.
Awkward.
Apologetic.
He explained the squad reassignment.
Ishiki — what could he do?
He accepted it with a shrug.
Forgiveness came easy to a man focused only on his own path.
On the third day, Mirinae officially gathered her new squad:
Two new faces.
One was a boy around ten years old — Yasuda Tobi — a fresh Genin, graduating the same year as Ishiki.
The other, a slightly older teen, his face above the nose wrapped entirely in bandages — Tobitake Suzumebachi.
Suzumebachi had battlefield experience — a veteran Genin.
According to his self-introduction, he admired Yamanaka Inoichi greatly and specialized in sensory-type ninjutsu.
"Leave the team's safety to me!"
he said proudly.
Ishiki remained skeptical —
but showed nothing.
Let them have their fiery speeches.
He would be the one sewing them back together when their passion got them gutted.
The team formation was simple.
Their mission:
Border patrol duty along the Land of Fire's frontier.
A long-term mission — three months deployment, then a month's rest in Konoha.
Ishiki found it acceptable.
After introductions, Mirinae led them to their assigned outpost.
A wooden watchtower —
built tall for maximum visibility.
Designed not just for surveillance, but for fast message delivery via carrier pigeons.
In this world, the tech tree was bizarre:
Radios, computers, even engine-powered ships.
But no telephones.
No aircraft.
No internet.
Ishiki had long accepted this.
Adjusting to it, however, would still take years.
The patrols rotated weekly —
one squad handled daytime patrols, the other handled night shifts.
Ishiki's squad settled easily into the rhythm.
Time passed peacefully.
Even better —
Highway Star still sent him nutrients from afar, every few days.
His strength steadily climbed.
Meanwhile, his research continued.
He had fully mastered Heavenly Transfer Technique now.
The key lay in defining coordinates:
You needed a fixed origin point — usually a specially made object.
In the manga, Mabui had used a giant barrel as her focus.
Similarly, Ishiki crafted his own —
a rounded, reinforced barrel.
He could seal it into a scroll for portability, setting up anchor points wherever he pleased.
Now, he could teleport objects anywhere within range — instantly.
A terrifying weapon in the right hands.
However...
For now, he had no urgent need to use it.
He turned his attention back to sealing experiments.
Sealing chakra was simple.
Sealing a living Shadow Clone?
A nightmare.
Despite countless tries —
splitting clones, attempting to seal them into scrolls —
the results were either catastrophic failures or instant destabilization.
Still, Ishiki meticulously recorded each attempt.
He missed Moody Blues more than ever.
If he still had it —
he could have rewound every experiment, analyzed each flaw in exquisite detail.
Progress would have been ten times faster.
But he endured.
Patience.
Perseverance.
The slow, relentless road to perfection.