Chapter 185: Learning to Cooperate

"Chōji!"

Shikamaru's shadow caught three men in black. He strained to hold them, trying to make sense of the sudden battle while keeping his hands steady in the seal.

"Multi-Size Technique: Double Palm Thrust!"

Chōji's arms lengthened and his hands swelled. The great palms closed upon the trapped shinobi, killing all three before Shikamaru had to release them.

"Above you!" Ino shouted.

Chōji shortened one arm and raised the other. A blade struck the armored gauntlet over his head. Ino had already taken aim with Mind Body Switch; the attacker froze as her technique caught him.

Another enemy was still moving. Shikamaru stretched his dwindling chakra far enough to bind him, and Chōji finished the attack with shuriken. At Ino's signal, they released their techniques. The last two enemies fell.

For a few moments the three could do nothing but breathe. The fight had lasted scarcely any time at all.

"What's happening?" Chōji asked, staring at the bodies.

"It must be Tonbo's genjutsu," Ino said. "That's what he's best at."

Chōji looked around the strange landscape. Then he took a bag of snacks from his belt and put a chip in his mouth.

"It doesn't taste like genjutsu."

"How can you eat now?"

Ino could not believe him. She could not understand why the three of them had been put together either. If Tonbo was deciding who went where, why couldn't he have placed her with Sasuke?

"She's probably right," Shikamaru said. "Remember what the teachers told us? A reward for graduating. This must be it: a genjutsu that lets us experience a real battle."

He looked at the cut on his arm. It had not stopped bleeding. He pulled out a bandage and wrapped it while he spoke.

"I can see why they'd call it a reward. Experience without having to go on a mission first. But I don't like it. We haven't even started basic assignments, and already we're fighting for our lives. It hurts, too."

Chōji ate another chip. "Tonbo's amazing."

"You both know him?" Shikamaru asked.

"I see him at the barbecue restaurant sometimes. He takes people there a lot. He says he even fed me meat when I was little."

"He sends me birthday presents," Ino said. "Every year. Some of them are... strange."

She thought of the figurine, and the gifts that had followed it. Tonbo always found something new. Whether she wanted it was another question.

A deep rumble passed beneath them.

Shikamaru looked up. "Move!"

It was too late. Two great slabs rose on either side and slammed together, trapping all three between them.

The world twisted. They were standing in a different place.

Ino clutched her arms. "That hurt! What was that?"

The pressure had vanished, but she could still remember it everywhere at once.

Chōji stared at his empty hand. "My chips..."

Then he felt the bag at his waist. He pulled it free, whole and unopened, and his eyes brightened.

"They came back. Are there unlimited chips?"

"We need to pay attention," Shikamaru said. "I don't think this will end until we've done enough training. If it happens entirely in our minds, our bodies won't be injured. They can keep killing us until we learn."

The prospect made him tired before the next enemy had even appeared.

"When we get out, I'm telling Ayame," Ino declared.

That caught Shikamaru's interest. "His wife? That's a good idea."

His father helped run the village's intelligence work. At home, none of that mattered when his mother was angry. Presumably Tonbo's position offered him about as much protection.

"You're getting mean, Shikamaru," Chōji said.

"He started it."

Chōji considered the point. "Then I'll help."

"Good. We'll make him regret this," Ino said. She remembered a commotion she had overheard at Ichiraku when her father took her there. Ayame could be formidable. For the first time since arriving in the illusion, Ino had something pleasant to anticipate.

Tonbo could follow the broad course of their session, but he was too occupied to listen to their conversation. Information from Naruto's body was pouring into Inner Archive, passing through its filters before reaching his mind.

This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. There had been no need to seek Naruto out privately when the graduation exercise would bring him here.

The boy's physical information differed markedly from that of other shinobi. So much of his talent lay in cellular vitality and the production of physical energy. After years of examining bodies and comparing their patterns, Tonbo could distinguish the features he needed from the mass of unfamiliar information surrounding them.

He selected the relevant patterns and began inscribing them into his own body, incorporating them into Contact Evolution. A change was perceptible almost at once.

The child of prophecy deserved his reputation. In this respect, Naruto's natural gifts were among the finest in the shinobi world.

Given time, and the other talents Tonbo had already gathered, his own chakra should equal or exceed Naruto's. He had years of experience to draw upon for mental energy; what he lacked was a body capable of supplying physical energy on the same scale. That limitation was steadily receding.

He would still be missing a tailed beast, of course.

Tonbo did not mistake the first change for the finished result. A body needed time to evolve. Yet greater endurance allowed it to withstand more of the process, which in turn increased the speed of further improvement.

By the Fourth Shinobi World War, he hoped to turn his attention to the Ten-Tails, Hashirama, Madara, and Obito. If an opportunity arose after that, he would take Kaguya's physical information as well. With those foundations, he might even be able to fight Isshiki, should that threat emerge.

The thought sobered him. Knowing part of the future was not the same as knowing all of it. The story had remained unfinished when he left his former life. He did not know what abilities later enemies might possess, and no guiding power had come with him to provide the answers.

Madara and Kaguya were dangers he expected others to defeat. They were not the only reason he kept working. Beyond them lay people and powers he might never have heard of.

He had talent. That did not make him anything more than a man who could be killed.