Chapter 31: Traveling at the Public's Expense

"That's all of it. If you still mean to join the Guardian Twelve, be careful."

Tonbo rose from the last corpse and wiped his fingertips against a scrap of cloth. The dead shinobi had carried no names worth trusting, but their memories agreed on the important point: the daimyō had survived more assassination attempts than the public would ever hear about, and the people sent to protect him were hunted before they reached the capital.

The Fire Temple had lost candidates in nearly every generation. Some attackers wanted fewer guards around the daimyō. Others wanted a dead monk's identity and a clean path inside the palace.

These men had belonged to a minor network financed through merchants with no obvious political allegiance. They had been told where Chiriku would travel, given sketches of his robes and face, and promised the remainder of their payment only after his death. None of them had met the person who issued the order. The caution behind the arrangement told Tonbo more than a careless signature would have.

The Five Great Shinobi Villages were only the largest powers in the world, Tonbo reflected. The factions within the Land of Fire alone were tangled enough to keep an Analysis Team busy for years.

"Whether I join is my concern," Asuma said. Gratitude softened the words, but not enough for him to admit it.

Chiriku bowed. "Knowing what follows us will make the road easier. You have my thanks."

"Worrying about Asuma is the Third's concern, not mine." Tonbo turned to his students. "Come on. We finished faster than expected, and it isn't often a mission pays for travel. We'll see something of the Land of Fire while we're out and train along the way."

The three cheered.

"New ninjutsu?" Iruka asked.

"You haven't taught us any," Mibu Shinobu added.

"Nonsense. The most important things a shinobi learns aren't ninjutsu."

"That's what people say when they don't want to share the good techniques," Tessen said.

"What I share keeps you alive long enough to learn your own. Situational awareness, chakra control, intelligence work, knowing when not to fight—those win more missions than a dramatic fireball."

"You used several dramatic techniques today," Iruka pointed out.

"To provide educational variety."

Their argument carried down the road until the trees swallowed them from sight.

Chiriku watched them go. "Konoha produces remarkable shinobi."

He did not think he could force an advantage against Tonbo as he was now. Asuma remained silent for a time, fists closed at his sides.

"He's strong," he admitted at last. "At least as dangerous as Kakashi."

And the genjutsu was worse than anything Kurenai had ever used on him.

The thought brought asparagus back to his tongue. Asuma gagged.

On the road to the next town, Tonbo took a woven hawk from his pack and breathed chakra into it. Feathers of straw became wings. The construct shifted once in his palm, then launched itself toward Konoha with a sealed report tied beneath its body.

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"You can use your secret technique for messages too?" Iruka asked, eyes bright. A real messenger hawk took months of training; Tonbo had made one from reeds.

"Admiration won't help you. I've tested both you and Tessen Togekei. Neither of you has the disposition for genjutsu."

Iruka's face fell. Tessen accepted the judgment with better grace.

Mibu Shinobu looked between them. "Does that mean I do?"

Tonbo nodded.

For one glorious moment, Mibu imagined mastering his captain's techniques and leaving his teammates hopelessly behind.

"Talent doesn't mean you can learn my secret arts," Tonbo added. "That requires the Psycho Mind Transmission, a strong grasp of genjutsu, and an understanding of the nervous system close to a medical shinobi's. You may be suited to ordinary genjutsu. We find out after your fundamentals improve."

Mibu's triumph diminished, though it did not disappear.

"What about us?" Iruka asked. "We must have something."

"Everyone does. Yours are—"

Far behind them, the woven hawk crossed Konoha's boundary and settled on a perch at the Communication Department. The shinobi on duty removed the report, confirmed it was not urgent, and added it to the documents waiting for the Hokage.

Hiruzen read it later that day.

Finding Asuma so quickly was impressive enough. Tonbo's account of the encounter was something else. Asuma had forgotten a former classmate, attacked fellow Konoha shinobi, and nearly terrified three innocent genin with an immensely powerful ash explosion and a sky full of cloned Fūma shuriken—or so Tonbo claimed.

The report concluded that the poor children required time amid the prosperous towns of the Land of Fire to soothe their wounded spirits. Tonbo promised to continue tracking Asuma and to train his team diligently while they recovered.

Attached beneath that shameless request was a careful summary of the dead attackers' memories: their route, payment method, orders, and the intermediaries they had seen. Tonbo separated inference from confirmed fact and warned that the organization behind them remained unidentified. Whatever liberties he took with the mission's duration, he had not been careless with its intelligence.

"This is a holiday at public expense," Hiruzen's secretary said. "Konoha still needs missions completed here."

Hiruzen's mouth twitched beneath his pipe. "Let them remain. The village has nearly recovered, and recalling them would require sending someone to find them."

The Communication Department had already reported that the messenger hawk turned back into a woven figurine after delivering its burden. No living bird waited to carry a reply.

When the secretary left, Hiruzen studied Tonbo's report again. The secret technique resembled the techniques of shinobi who gave life to ink, though Tonbo used weaving rather than painting. Yin Release, almost certainly, and adaptable enough for combat, reconnaissance, and communication.

That versatility mattered. Summoned animals required contracts, training, and a living creature willing to cooperate. Tonbo appeared able to give a purpose to an object and send it wherever his chakra allowed. If the technique matured, the Analysis Team would no longer need to depend entirely on couriers when operating beyond Konoha's walls.

"A rare talent," Hiruzen murmured.

At a great waterfall in the Land of Fire, that rare talent stood before three impatient genin.

"Mibu Shinobu has the best aptitude for genjutsu," Tonbo said. Mibu nodded proudly. "Iruka's strengths are theory, fundamentals, and patience. You have the temperament to teach others."

Iruka brightened. Becoming an Academy teacher was the dream he had barely begun to say aloud.

"Tessen Togekei has the fastest reactions and the best spatial awareness among you. Your shuriken work is strong, and you have an affinity for space-time techniques. Summoning weapons comes easily because the underlying sense already does."

"So I can learn the Flying Thunder God?" Tessen asked.

"No. Talent is a direction, not a promise that you'll master every technique in it. Start by understanding the storage seals you already use. Speed and precision come before ambition."

Tessen scratched his head. He had never thought of something easy as talent.

"As for teaching those things," Tonbo continued, "outside genjutsu, I only know a little."

Iruka and Tessen sagged. Mibu tried not to look too pleased for their sake.

"A captain should teach all his students equally," Iruka said.

"A captain should teach each student what he can actually use. Giving you Mibu's lessons would waste your time, and giving him yours would waste his. Equal effort does not mean identical training."

The three went quiet at that. It was not the answer they had wanted, but it was difficult to argue with.

Tonbo smiled behind his bandages. A little, after all, was rarely the same thing as nothing.