Renjiro and Kakashi were still barely clothed, their bodies still prickling from the cool air of the stone chamber. Renjiro shifted uncomfortably, glancing around at the assembled ninja, each of them observing the two young shinobi with expressions of cold professionalism.
Iha Yamanaka, the one to perform the procedure, looked at the Aburame standing beside her. Her gaze was focused and calm, yet there was a hint of apprehension in her eyes, betraying a recognition of the importance of the task at hand. She tilted her head toward the Aburame, awaiting instructions.
"Who should we start with?" she asked, her voice quiet but clear.
The Aburame shifted his weight, his gaze hidden behind his dark glasses, though his posture spoke of deference to the white-haired man beside him.
The Aburame looked at Jiraiya, who stood quietly, his expression unusually serious. This was a side of Jiraiya few people ever saw—focused, determined, and devoid of his usual joviality.
After a moment of silence, Jiraiya gestured towards Kakashi, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "Let's start with him. His mark is more defined. We may get a clearer signal."
Kakashi, who had been standing in silent observation, now moved to comply. He glanced over his shoulder, giving Renjiro a quick, almost reassuring nod, as if to say he'd be fine. With measured calm, Kakashi made his way to the examination table, the rough stone beneath his feet cold against his bare skin.
He climbed onto the table and lay face down, resting his cheek against the rough surface, his muscles tensing involuntarily in anticipation. He tried to relax, but the unfamiliarity of the situation kept his mind alert, his senses on edge.
Iha stepped closer, her hands hovering just above Kakashi's nape. With a fluid motion, she formed a series of hand signs, each one delicate, precise.
As she reached the final seal, she closed her eyes, took a steadying breath, and then pressed her fingertips against the black mark on Kakashi's neck. The moment her fingers made contact, Kakashi's body stiffened.
A sudden, searing pain shot through his neck, a burning sensation unlike anything he'd felt before. It was as if molten iron had been poured onto his skin, spreading in sharp, jagged tendrils along his spine.
He could feel the chakra pulsing through the mark, a hot, insistent pressure that seemed to dig into his very bones. His hands gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening as he fought the urge to pull away. Despite his training, a faint grunt of pain escaped his lips.
Renjiro watched Kakashi's reaction, feeling a strange mix of apprehension and intrigue. He couldn't help but wonder about the origins of this mark.
'Did Takata place this on us during the fight?' he thought, recalling the intense battle they'd had with the Kumo ANBU. The notion of someone embedding something so insidious into his body, something that could be used to trace him, monitor him, made his skin crawl.
The thought lingered, unsettling and uncomfortable. 'It was for a good cause this time,' he mused, 'but what if it were something worse?'
Pushing the unease aside, Renjiro turned his attention to the Yamanaka jutsu itself. The sight of Iha's hands, glowing faintly with chakra, intrigued him.
'This jutsu seems ridiculously powerful… Almost like they're able to access memories themselves. I wonder how exactly this works?' He leaned slightly closer, observing Iha's calm, focused expression with his sharingan as she manipulated her chakra through the mark.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Renjiro glanced toward Jiraiya, who was standing nearby, his arms folded and his gaze sharp. "This is some powerful jutsu," Renjiro remarked. "I haven't seen other Yamanaka use something like this."
Jiraiya's expression softened slightly as he responded, "Well, that's partly because it's confidential… and partly because very few of them are capable of performing it."
Renjiro raised an eyebrow. "Confidential? Or too dangerous?" He couldn't help but feel an odd thrill at the secrecy surrounding the jutsu.
Jiraiya chuckled softly, though his gaze remained serious. "The Yamanaka clan has always been special. Besides their sensory techniques, and their ability to transfer their consciousness—Mind Transfer Jutsu, which I am sure you know about. But some among them are born with even rarer abilities, allowing them to transfer memories themselves. It's rare and very complex."
Renjiro's expression darkened with thought. 'So that's how it works,' he thought, though he wasn't as impressed as he'd expected to be. Things like these could be replicated, after all, with the right application of Genjutsu or even advanced fuinjutsu.
"Wouldn't Genjutsu achieve the same effect?" he asked.
Jiraiya shook his head, his tone laced with patience. "This is different. Takata's mark doesn't just carry memories—it holds a fragment of his consciousness. This way, we're not just accessing memories, we're directly connecting to Takata's mind, almost as if he's here with us."
Renjiro's eyes widened slightly as the implications set in. This was a technique that went beyond memory or knowledge—it allowed one to communicate with the mind of another, long after they'd left.
If Takata's consciousness could be accessed in this way, it was as if he were still alive, in a sense. 'Like the karma seal,' Renjiro mused with a faint smirk. 'Or maybe the Otsutsuki were the inspiration for this kind of technique.'
"That's… useful," Renjiro muttered, impressed by the ingenuity of it. It was no wonder Takata had been such an invaluable spy. With a technique like this, he could operate from anywhere, communicate through marks, pass on messages across barriers. But Jiraiya's expression grew somber as he continued.
"Of course, it comes at a price," he said quietly.
Renjiro tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "What's the price?"
"You lose the ability to learn any jutsu apart from this one," Jiraiya replied, his tone almost regretful.
Renjiro's excitement dimmed slightly at that. He had imagined the Yamanaka technique to be a game-changing ability, but with such a limitation, it seemed more of a burden than a blessing.
'Wait,' he thought, 'did he mean just ninjutsu or all jutsu?'
Before he could voice his question, Iha's voice interrupted them.
"I've gathered the necessary information," she announced, stepping back from Kakashi, who lay motionless on the table, his face calm but noticeably pale. She glanced at Jiraiya, her expression grave as she relayed what she'd gathered.
"Good," Jiraiya nodded approvingly. "Now we move on to Renjiro."
Renjiro let out a deep breath, steadying himself as he made his way to the table. He muttered to himself, "Perfect timing…"
He climbed onto the table, his body tense, and laid himself down with his neck exposed, the mark faint against his skin. He braced himself, expecting the same burning sensation he'd seen Kakashi endure. His gaze flickered to Iha, who was already forming the seals, her face calm and steady.
As she completed the last seal, her fingers descended onto the mark on Renjiro's neck. He expected a surge of pain, perhaps a burning similar to Kakashi's experience, but instead, all he felt was… nothing. The sensation was cold, almost numb, like ice rather than fire. He lay there, waiting, his body stiff as he anticipated the sharp discomfort Kakashi had shown, but there was nothing.
Iha frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried again. Her fingers pressed more firmly against the mark, her chakra gathering in a stronger flow, but the result was the same. The Aburame's attention sharpened as he noticed her hesitation. He took a step closer, his voice even but tinged with concern.
"What's the matter?" he asked, studying her reaction closely.
Iha hesitated, her eyes flicking between the mark and Renjiro's face. "The jutsu… isn't working," she said finally, her voice heavy with disappointment.
Renjiro felt a faint prickle of irritation, mixed with a strange sense of relief. 'Aah, shit, here we go again,' he thought with a half-irritated smile. It seemed that, once again, the universe had decided to complicate things for him in some unexpected way. Now he rued the questions he would be asked.
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