Renjiro's gaze lingered on the scroll for several moments longer, his mind already mapping out the ways the Rashomon Gates could shift the balance of any battle.
He visualized the towering stone gates materializing before him like ancient sentries, symbols of unwavering strength. It wasn't just another jutsu—it was a fortress summoned with his own chakra, capable of absorbing unimaginable attacks and lessening his vulnerability in dangerous situations.
More than ever, Renjiro appreciated its value.
The gates' sturdiness offered an unparalleled layer of defence, a bulwark against the harshest enemies he might encounter. In a world where power dynamics could change in an instant, being able to withstand any force thrown his way was invaluable. The jutsu was less of a tool and more of a shield he could raise in the face of any storm, from fellow shinobi to tailed beasts.
"There's power in knowing when to conserve strength," Renjiro mused, considering the broader strategy.
With this jutsu, he could ration his chakra more intelligently without losing the edge he'd earned through countless hours of training.
His Adamantine Sealing Chains— which was a powerful defensive option through its barrier—required meticulous control to wield effectively, and they drained his chakra reserves faster than he preferred. But these gates, they provided a stamina-saving alternative.
This wasn't a plan born out of fear but of foresight. If he could mitigate chakra consumption, especially when he reached his physical and mental limits, it would be a game-changer. It would mean he could fight longer, plan further ahead, and meet each opponent with even greater precision.
And for a shinobi of Konoha, where every mission was a balance between calculated strategy and sheer will, that could make all the difference. His Sharingan would complement this technique perfectly, sharpening his responses, and allowing him to react swiftly and decisively.
"Even the First Hokage saw the value," Renjiro whispered, voice almost reverent as he thought of the revered shinobi who had shaped the village's history.
"I might have to face a jinchuriki someday," he murmured, and though his words were quiet, the gravity in his voice was unmistakable. Renjiro knew that tailed beasts were nothing to underestimate.
With the looming shadow of a third shinobi war, it was almost certain that he would cross paths with one eventually. It wasn't a question of 'if'; it was a matter of 'when'. In such a battle, being able to summon a barrier as resilient as the Rashomon Gates would buy him precious seconds, perhaps even save his life or even deal with the jinchuriki if possible.
"I also need to deal with the Nine-tails when and If Obito sets it free in the village." Renjiro considered.
He felt the weight of the responsibilities he'd taken on as he considered his own potential. While he had planned on reducing the effects his actions would have on the plot, there were some things he had decided to like the Nine Tails' Rampage in Konoha.
"I could always use the Sharingan but that wouldn't be smart, would it? It should probably be the last resort in such a scenario."
The Sharingan gave him a unique advantage over tailed beasts, yet relying on it too much could draw unwanted attention from Konoha's leadership. Something he did not want at the moment.
To openly show that he could control a tailed beast would be a bold declaration of power, one that would echo through the hierarchy of the village.
Renjiro knew how the village politics worked—he could practically see the shock and caution that would spark within the elders, the way their eyes would narrow as they measured his strength and his intentions.
That kind of power would attract suspicion, and perhaps even resentment. They would try to control him, and when they realize that it wouldn't work since Renjiro would rather be a rogue shinobi than be in such a situation, things would only worsen.
It could place the Uchiha clan at more risk than they already were in the original storyline. This could mess up the whole timeline and worsen things.
Renjiro chuckled, but his smile held no amusement. "Let them try to turn me into a target," he muttered, his tone a quiet challenge.
"I'd like to see how they plan to take me down."
This wasn't idle boasting or misplaced arrogance. It was simply a fact. Renjiro had spent the better part of seven years since he transmigrated honing his skills, surpassing expectations to earn his place among Konoha's jounin.
Almost a decade stretched ahead of him until the Fourth Hokage's ill-fated encounter with Obito—a moment Renjiro was determined to influence if he could.
In that time, he would climb to the summit of the shinobi world, reaching heights that only the strongest, most capable shinobis could attain.
"Unless fate has other plans," he murmured, chuckling softly, his tone laced with dry humour.
Setting his musings aside, Renjiro exhaled, centring himself in the present moment. His gaze returned to the scroll, and he reviewed the hand seals, the specific chakra flow needed to invoke the gates. Snake, Horse, Ram, Monkey, Tiger, Boar, Dog—a sequence that demanded precision, focus, and a steady, even distribution of power.
Taking his position, Renjiro began the sequence, hands moving fluidly through each sign, feeling the chakra within him build and surge. He concentrated, focusing on the points where chakra needed to be controlled. Yet as he completed the final seal, the energy dissipated, vanishing like mist before a breeze.
Renjiro frowned, reviewing each movement in his mind. "My control was off. Too much force, not enough guidance."
The frustration was there, yes, but he welcomed it, letting it drive him forward. This was a difficult jutsu for a reason, and mastery demanded nothing less than full commitment.
He readied himself for a second attempt, fingers finding the seals once more, Snake to Dog. This time, he applied less pressure, guiding his chakra more gently, shaping it into the form the jutsu demanded. But again, he felt it slip just before the final seal, and the chakra fizzled out, leaving only a trace of warmth against his skin.
"Focus, control," he muttered, reminding himself that this technique would not tolerate even the slightest error. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep, steady breath. His body relaxed, his mind clear.
His third attempt was different.
He moved through each seal, his chakra flowing with a balanced intent. The world around him seemed to fade, the silence of the floating island amplifying his concentration. He reached the final seal, feeling the energy take form and solidify, pushing against the boundaries of his will.
This time, there was a low rumble, as if the earth itself had stirred. From below, a massive gate burst forth, towering above him like an ancient guardian. The Rashomon Gate stood firm, its dark stone etched with fierce, inscrutable symbols that seemed to pulsate with power. Renjiro exhaled, a smirk playing on his lips.
He hadn't failed; he'd conquered.
Renjiro took a step back, feeling the enormity of what he had achieved. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction, feeling the weariness and accomplishment settle into his bones.
He knew this was only the beginning. Over the next few hours, he practised again and again, each attempt bringing a new level of insight. He worked to adjust the chakra flow, minimizing it with each successive attempt. His hands moved in a rhythm, each seal imbued with greater precision until he could feel the jutsu responding as though it had become part of him.
The initial strain grew less with every try, his body and mind syncing with the required flow of chakra. Snake, Horse, Ram, Monkey, Tiger, Boar, Dog. Each attempt made him more adept, more attuned to the technique's subtleties.
It was nearing dusk when he attempted his final summon. Snake alone. A single, practised hand seal, one that held all the focus and dedication he'd cultivated.
The Rashomon Gate surged into existence before him, solid and unwavering. Renjiro's eyes widened, a slow grin breaking across his face.
The hours of intense training had paid off. He'd managed to summon the gate with a single hand sign, conserving his chakra further while increasing his efficiency.
Wiping sweat from his brow, he gazed at the towering structure with satisfaction.
"It's finally time," he whispered, his voice a mixture of exhaustion and triumph, "to test it."
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