My teammates were still in the hospital and were supposed to be discharged tomorrow. So I dedicated the whole day to experiments.
No, I didn't immediately jump into the final testing of my pile of theory-hypotheses on live "material." Instead, for the first half of the day my brain got hijacked by a different topic—also pretty damn interesting.
Soul research.
Same old lab. I was looming over the operating table with Subject One, while above me—hanging a bit off to the side—were massive metal rigs with black inlays stuffed to the brim with my chakra: fūin analyzers and stabilizers. The first one was self-explanatory. The second existed so the "material" wouldn't die ahead of schedule. Both devices radiated energy loaded with huge bundles of properties, doing their jobs the way a normal ninja would with jutsu—only on a much deeper, more efficient, and more powerful level.
First, I put my hand on the subject and, using a not-particularly-high-end technique, instantly drained his chakra circulatory system—CCS—of excess energy.
After that, dozens of blue chakra threads burst out of me.
The soul sits like it's not quite in the same space as the normal world… but I could shift my chakra into that, so to speak, "other" space and still touch the soul with it. And even though other people's souls weren't visible to my soul-sight because of their chakra… despite the whole "different spaces" thing, it turned out it wasn't that simple.
Whatever. That problem was fixable for analysis.
The threads sank into the subject's arm with surgical precision. Some of them, picking the right "layer" of reality, groped for the soul, while others methodically ripped major chakra channels out of the body.
On my earlier command, the stabilizing seal pumped blood away from the work area, while the analyzer calibrated under my control, sending streams of information straight into my consciousness.
Soon I found the metric I needed, and first in soul-sight—and then, thanks to the fūin analyzer tuning itself to match that ability's properties—in my mind, the subject's soul "aura" flared up in microscopic detail.
"Green-yellow?" I noted the color.
As expected, souls came in different colors.
With the right properties set, I latched my chakra threads onto the subject's soul with a technique similar to how ninja stick to vertical surfaces.
Thanks to the analyzer, I had a read on the structure—barely different from my own—and the soul's durability. The second part differed a lot, and not in a good way… which just meant I had to spread my grip over a larger area. Anything to keep the body pinned to the table and slowly, relentlessly drag the soul out.
The subject was under insanely strong anesthesia, so his body didn't even twitch. But the space where his soul existed filled up with emanations from the tiny doses of energy leaking out of him—emanations with properties that read as emotions: agony, terror, and other similar stuff, just less pronounced. With the analyzer, I couldn't just tell if someone was lying—deepest, smallest emotions couldn't hide from me either.
The CCS—even heavily drained—still held the soul in place. So to separate body and soul I had to burn through the CCS's internal reserves hard, to pull the soul out in one piece.
Soon, held in my threads, a green-yellowish soul hung in front of me. Same outline as the subject's short body. Same sphere with a core inside the "aura."
And even this kind of desecration didn't wake the soul up… damn it.
I had a long list—very long—of what I needed to test in a soul: traits, functions, abilities. But I started with one of the most interesting items.
The threads slowly cut an opening in the chest, opposite the core. The part of the soul that used to be "aura" peeled back like skin as a slow current of energy pushed out from the subject's soul. The energy was almost transparent, but faintly tinted with the soul's color.
The analyzer and my sphere-sight immediately pushed inside the soul, running yet another comprehensive scan. A cloudy sphere—old and stagnant.
Ten minutes later, almost all the energy had flowed out of the subject's aura, though it didn't stop completely, still trickling thanks to the internal reserves of the sphere.
Next part of the experiment: the threads—this time using noticeably more force, though still nowhere near my possible maximum—punched an opening in the outer core. Energy from the subject's soul rushed out under much higher pressure.
In terms of raw volume, what got released here wasn't even a drop of my chakra. But the stream looked powerful—and because of that, beautifully detailed—purely thanks to how hard I was pushing my sphere-sight sensory output while focusing on the subject's sphere, plus the analyzer. Figuratively speaking, it's like a fart: normally you can't even see it. But put on a thermal imager… Yeah, not the best association, but with that soul color? Kinda symbolic.
There were properties in the subject's energy, but they were extremely weak and scattered. And barely interpretable for me. A lot of them were even smaller—so small that even with the analyzer I couldn't make sense of them. Souls were one hell of a puzzle… but that didn't mean—not even close—that I wasn't getting data. I was getting a ton, and I could sort and process it for a long time. And I've still got other projects, by the way.
When the flow almost stopped, now releasing only little by little from energy generated by the core and, to a much lesser degree, by the walls of the outer core, I moved my threads toward the core to open that up too.
In general, all energy generates energy. Weird law of the world. Why, and where it comes from—no clue. But it's just how it is. The higher the concentration of energy—like in a shell, for example—the higher the generation.
Once I did it, the emanations of terror quickly died down, while the core's own energy radiation increased. My perception got flooded by literal oceans of properties—some sharply imprinted, some so faint I could barely tell them apart. All intertwined, all moving in a strange, incomprehensible, chaotic dance.
For about half an hour I tried to make sense of it; the process sucked me in that hard. By then the core had barely started to dissolve. And something else was interesting: the CCS—and then the body—started dying off after the core got damaged. Like there was a connection, and when the soul that they depended on apparently died, everything else followed right after.
Yeah… so that was my first kill. And it happened pretty damn routinely…
And what's worse: the soul isn't immortal. It's very much destroyable. Meaning, presumably, I can be killed completely and permanently too.
Those facts put me in a mild melancholy. Still, it didn't stop me from continuing to study.
When I opened the third subject's soul—purple, by the way; everyone's souls had pretty different colors, while mine was still gray—a hypothesis popped into my head.
I'm Ashura's reincarnation, right? Meta-knowledge says yes.
After that thought, I finished up with Number Three quickly and, without much enthusiasm, moved on to studying myself.
I didn't have to poke holes in myself, since I was working with my own energy—energy that, ever since my soul awakened, could pass through my own shells without any resistance.
But at first, I couldn't find it.
Then I figured: if souls exist in those weird layers, I should probably search in that direction. So I did.
The world felt multidimensional. And with my energies—without fully understanding how exactly it worked or what it precisely led to—I could affect those other dimensions. Similar chakra manipulation I'd only seen in high-class space-time techniques. And even then, that field was barely studied.
The search went on until evening. And ended in failure too…
Nope. Not that simple. Maybe Ashura's soul—the one I'm reincarnating—sits too deep. Maybe I need a different approach.
Whatever. I'm stubborn. And I'm almost completely sure something has to be there.
So, deciding I'd keep trying for a month and if it didn't work I'd come back later when my skills improved, I went to sleep. Today was productive.
The morning was normal. I slept well as always and woke up in my little mansion feeling pretty energized. Three "numbers" I'd deprived not just of life, but even of the possibility of reincarnation, still didn't make me feel pity. When I think about it, yeah, it stirs up a weak, unpleasant feeling—but nothing more. So, to fully detach from it, I went back to business.
My teammates were supposed to be discharged already, and despite the pretty extensive circumstances, our mission continued.
First thing I did was swing by Sakura's place. She lived in a normal-looking, two-story house—standard Konoha.
So I wouldn't have to meet her parents and waste time, I climbed up to the second floor, to Sakura's room window, and knocked.
She was in her room, and when she came over she saw my face—pretty damn surprised.
Even as I approached, my sphere-sight picked up Sakura's appearance, which had… changed.
"…Naruto?" Sakura asked calmly (!)—even though she absolutely should've pointed out I'd climbed up to her like a creep instead of using the damn door. "Why not through the door?"
She said it just as calmly, and when she noticed my stare she looked away, embarrassed.
"It doesn't suit me, does it?"
She drew my attention to the thing that surprised me: her hair had been cut into a bob.
"Well, it actually does," I said. She looked good even without long hair. "How're you feeling?"
I hopped down onto the floor softly, trying not to think too hard about why she decided to change her image… Teen brains. I'm afraid if I truly understand how they work, my psychiatrist's note might stop being valid.
"Good. And… thank you. For everything." She hesitated again and looked away. Her eyes snagged on the note I'd left on the nightstand, the one with fūin on it. "That was really direct… and nice. Thanks for that too."
Her words—and her expression—were disgustingly cute. So I couldn't help it: I reached out and ran my fingers through her pink hair.
She got even more flustered.
"You're welcome." I shrugged, then pulled my hand back.
For a second there was this weird silence between us. I broke it without shame.
"Ready to head out to the Land of Waves today?"
"Yeah. Five minutes."
Nodding, I teleported off to gather the rest of the team. No point peeking in on minors. Now, digging around in corpses—that's different, that's my thing. But staring at living people is usually unethical.
After a while, when it turned out everyone really was ready for a quick move—even Hatake—we arrived at Tazuna's place. And then I got to witness a pretty weird scene.
"Sasuke," Sakura addressed him. Her voice—unlike her previous attempts to talk to him—was firmer than ever, without that extra timidity.
The guy slowly turned his gaze to her.
"I want you to apologize," she said, looking him straight in the eyes. "For what happened on the bridge."
"…" The Uchiha didn't get it right away. But when he realized who said it—and what exactly—his eyes widened to unnatural sizes and his mouth fell open on its own.
"Until you apologize, we don't talk outside of missions. I'm not your property, and I'm not an obstacle you can throw away when it's in your way."
Then she simply crossed her arms and turned away, waiting.
But under my and Kakashi's surprised looks, she obviously didn't get anything.
Sasuke snorted and turned away too.
So we stood there like that for about twenty seconds.
"M-ma…" Kakashi summed up the situation.
"Yeah," I agreed.
Sakura, still not getting an apology, shot the Uchiha a look full of hurt.
"You sure you're okay?" I asked gently, trying not to provoke… possibly someone who wasn't entirely stable, with sharp movements or tone.
"Uh… yeah?" She gave me a confused look.
"…If anything, I've got good connections at the hospital. Come to me if something's wrong."
"…" Sakura didn't understand what I was getting at, but nodded.
After that we headed for Tazuna. He turned out to be at the construction site, not home. Looked a bit worn out for so early, and he had a black eye under one eye.
"Greetings to the honored ninja of Konoha," he said, bending in a bow like he'd never bowed in his life, which surprised me again.
"And what the hell happened to you?" I asked.
"Excuse me?.." Tazuna didn't get it either, but he noticed my whole team staring at him weird and started to panic.
"Yeah… forget it." I waved him off. Honestly, it wasn't that interesting. And I could already guess—his own people probably smacked him around for that sideways attitude toward terrifying demo—ahem. Toward respected ninja.
"Any incidents while we were gone?" Kakashi asked, finally getting to the point.
"None, Hatake-sama," the bridge builder reported respectfully.
"M-gh. Good," Kakashi noted, then stepped a couple of paces away and turned to us. "Team Seven. You might not know this, but your teammate—Naruto—not only dealt with those two ninja, but also Gato's cartel."
That surprised all three of us. Sakura and Sasuke because I wiped out the cartel, and me because Kakashi actually bothered to verify mission intel after my report to the Hokage. Did Koharu bite him back there when I sicced her on him? No, they're not like that… or are they?
"However," Hatake continued, briefly glancing at Tazuna's confirming nods. "Our mission isn't over. Until the bridge is finished, we'll guard the perimeter of the construction site. And we'll guard Tazuna at night, when he's home. But first, I have something to tell you."
No, she definitely bit him. Where else would Kakashi get a sudden attack of responsibility and a craving for work?
We moved away from Tazuna, leaving him to do his thing. And Kakashi just… started breaking down our fight: what Sakura could've done better, what Sasuke could've done better, where they screwed up, what they did okay, what they did well. He even broke down his own fight. Me, he didn't mention at all—probably just in case.
After that, Hatake went on watch with Sasuke. The jōnin would instruct him on what to do and how. Yeah, we got taught this in the Academy, but Hatake would show more—and in practice.
Sakura and I were left alone with our own schedule. In six hours it'd be Sakura's turn to go, where she'd get the same kind of instruction; after that, mine; after that, Kakashi's.
"What a morning," I said, watching the two of them walk off. Then I turned to Sakura. "How about a light training session? Feels like the perfect time."
"Tell me, Naruto…" she started, also watching them. "If you… finished Gato off. Doesn't that mean our mission has no point?"
"Heh. Glad you noticed. The mission isn't mandatory. But it's a good time for me—I can just send a clone, and it'll barely burn any energy. And it's a good time for you guys: nobody's distracting you, tons of free time. You can focus on getting stronger."
"That's so you," she said, turning her head toward me. "Will you tell me more? Like… how you dealt with the cartel?"
"It's not a bright story."
"Please."
I glanced at her. At least her curiosity survived.
"Fine."
After I told her—and Sakura listened closely, asking a few clarifying questions along the way—we did a short spar. Then I gave her a new chakra-control exercise that didn't take much stamina, told her I was leaving a clone with her, and went to the lab to handle my own stuff.
Days moved forward.
While my clone stood watch over Tazuna and patrolled the area, it still spent most of its time training with Sakura—polishing her chakra control, taijutsu, and helping her process the lessons from that fight. That's how it happened, by the way, that Sakura and the clone (rotating replacements), so random people wouldn't distract them, moved into the mansion that used to belong to Gato.
In my lab, I—the original—buried myself in experiments. Days and nights flew by while, scanning my own chakra core, I tried to feel out, to catch that anomaly—"Ashura's construct"—which I was sure was hidden somewhere deep, in other "layers" of reality. It was exhausting, meditative work that demanded absolute concentration specifically from me, the original.
But doing only one thing was way too little for me. So, on top of that, I tasked dozens of other clones with parallel work in the sterile halls of the underground complex.
On many tables, under the light of fūin lamps, lay immobilized test subjects. My clones started the final verification of my hypotheses.
One clone, using a modified Mystical Palm, sent hair-thin chakra impulses into the subjects' muscle fibers, stimulating accelerated growth and transformation even without micro-damage—on a different principle, where muscle changes without the extra intermediate stages. The results showed up right in front of our eyes: the fūin analyzer streamed models and live graphs of tissue density and strength changing in real time.
Another clone worked with the nervous system of several people one after another. The chakra flows, boosted through fūin, were crammed with so many properties the technique was more complex than Hiraishin. The energy wrapped the spinal cord and major nerve nodes, stimulating myelination of nerve fibers—done to increase signal speed and push reflexes even closer to absolute.
A third—actually, a whole group of clones—tested and studied the body's natural renewal processes. They also tried, after breaking the Hayflick limit—the cell division limit I'd learned to remove a while back—to test different ways of increasing cellular resistance to cancer, DNA damage, and restoring that DNA; and on top of that, ways to detect, isolate, and destroy whatever cancer cells still appeared anyway. That group was basically working toward biological immortality. But besides hacking the cell-division limit, there were still a lot of obstacles on the path to that goal… Over years of studying, I'd figured out how to bypass many of them. Still, everything had to be tested.
And there were other clone groups too. We were working on every system in the body.
Work was boiling on all fronts for my body-improvement project. Data piled up.
And I… could feel it. I was standing on the edge of a huge discovery.
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