Chapter 49: Fuinjutsu
I left the scroll tucked back where I found it—hidden in the deeper ends of the archive, in a place most shinobi never even thought to look.
I'd gained a lot today, and it wasn't even from some S-rank Jutsu or ancient forbidden technique.
It was knowledge.
And now I want more.
If I was going to get stronger—truly stronger—I needed to cover all bases. Not just the brute force of taijutsu, the versatility of elemental ninjutsu, or the silence of genjutsu.
There was something deeper I'd been ignoring this whole time.
Fuinjutsu.
The art of sealing.
The language of chakra.
The foundation of almost every powerful shinobi tool in history.
Even Minato—Naruto's father—was feared for his mastery of seals…other than just the Flying Raijin.
I turned back and made my way to the main counter, where the scrolls were tracked and cross-referenced by the librarian.
She was there, as usual—glasses halfway down her nose, pen scribbling across a mission log, looking up only when necessary.
I cleared my throat.
"I'm requesting access to the Fuinjutsu scrolls," I said.
She looked up, squinting at me. "Name?"
"Shikomu..."
She blinked.
Paused.
And then looked down at her ledger. A chakra-infused seal glowed faintly on the wood before a thin scroll with my shinobi credentials was displayed in the air.
"…Still listed as Genin," she muttered, frowning. "You know Fuinjutsu is restricted at Chunin rank and above, right?"
"I'm aware." I kept my tone respectful. "I'm not asking for restricted scrolls. Just the basics."
She sighed, probably thinking I was another Genin with delusions of grandeur. Still, she pressed her palm to the table and activated a smaller seal. A drawer slid open to her left, and she reached in, pulling out five aged scrolls tied with blue strings.
"This is what's allowed under Genin-level access," she said, handing them to me. "Storage Seals, Explosive Tags, Chakra Anchors, Basic Locking Seals… don't expect to recreate the Reaper Death Seal with these."
I gave a small nod and accepted the scrolls with both hands. "I won't. But I'll learn."
She raised a brow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Well, if you actually manage to decipher all of them, come back. There's a level 2 index you might qualify for... unofficially."
I said nothing more.
Just turned, scrolls tucked under my arm, and headed out of the archives.
I got back to my room, dropped the scrolls on the floor, and sat cross-legged in front of them like I was about to start some ancient ritual.
Unrolled the first scroll.
And then frowned.
These weren't instructions.
They were formulas.
No diagrams, no chalk lines, no fancy illustrations. Just dense theoretical chakra scripting with footnotes written in ink that had half-faded from age.
They didn't tell you how to make the seals.
They told you what they were made of.
The theory. The language. The structure.
But not a single line on the actual brush technique or chakra flow needed to create them.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Well... this is gonna be annoying."
This wasn't like ninjutsu where your body remembers after enough reps. This wasn't like taijutsu where pain made you adjust.
This was studying.
Proper. Real. Sit-your-ass-down-and-read studying.
Of course, I immediately did the smart thing.
Shadow Clone Jutsu!
Nine clones popped into the room in a burst of smoke.
"Two of you on scroll breakdown. Dissect every character until you can draw it blind."
"Two of you—run through chakra theory, match formulas to known elemental matrices."
"Two of you—find overlapping points between seal functions. Storage, containment, defense."
They all nodded without hesitation.
"And you," I pointed at the seventh one, "go grab me ink, brushes, and sealing parchment from the market."
"Ehhh?" he groaned. "Do I look like a delivery boy?"
"You do now."
He grumbled and vanished through the window.
I turned to the last two.
"You. Sit next to me. Cross-reference every seal with actual Shinobi applications."
"And you," I said, pointing at the ninth, "Go find Naido-Sensei. Ask if he has any Fuinjutsu resources."
The clone gave a crisp salute and disappeared in a flicker of movement.
As the room filled with quiet murmurs of paper shuffling, script interpretation, and the smell of fresh ink, I finally leaned back and sighed.
This wasn't going to be like learning a new Jutsu.
And I didn't hate that.
Because if I could get this right... I wasn't just going to fight better.
I was going to rewrite the rules…well, at least with the ideas I had in mind.
And with my bloodline, the game should make it easier for my training…right?
…
(Clone POV)
Of course he was meditating.
Same spot as always.
Naido-sensei sat cross-legged beneath the curved roots of the old tree in the training field, still as ever. Back straight, palms open, a faint golden chakra slowly radiating from his skin like heat haze.
I almost turned to leave.
Until I saw him.
Sitting beside Naido, a good few feet away but unmistakably comfortable there—Jiraiya. The Toad Sage himself. Legendary Sannin.
The man who once trained Naido.
It seems like he had come back to the village and was not still staying in the main war camp…I don't know if that could be considered as a good thing or not.
That part, he casually let slip during the mission. It made sense now.
Jiraiya looked different outside of battle. His usual wild energy was replaced with something… quieter.
Reflective…he always did give fatherly vibes during slice of life parts of the anime.
He had his elbows resting on his knees, hands folded beneath his chin, watching the breeze stir the leaves.
I didn't say anything at first. Just crouched low on a nearby branch and tried not to exist.
But of course, Naido broke the silence without opening his eyes.
"You can come down. You're worse at hiding than your main body."
I sighed.
Fair enough.
Also, how did bro know that I was a clone?!
I dropped to the ground, brushing myself off. "Sensei. Sorry to interrupt."
"You're not interrupting, I was just training" Naido opened one eye lazily, then gestured toward Jiraiya. "You remember my master?"
"Hard to forget," I muttered.
Jiraiya raised his hand. "Yo, if it isn't the brat (Naruto's) friend."
I nodded politely at the sage.
Naido tilted his head. "Are you here for something? Or just come to watch me breathe?"
I stepped forward, pulling the sealed scroll I was carrying from under my sleeve.
"I'm here on behalf of the main me. We… started studying fuinjutsu."
Naido's eyebrow raised a fraction.
"And we realized we have no idea how to actually use fuinjutsu."
Naido-sensei didn't reply right away. He just… frowned.
He tilted his head slightly and squinted at the scroll in my hands like it had personally offended him.
Then he raised a single finger and said, completely seriously:
"The seal of stillness is best forged in the void between purpose and perception."
…
I blinked.
"…Sensei?"
He nodded sagely, as if that explained everything.
"The ink must flow like the soul. But not too much. You know. Or it seals the ink itself. And then the soul. Then—well, you get it."
"…You've never actually studied Fuinjutsu, have you?" I asked, flat.
Naido stared at me for a beat.
"Of course not. It's boring."
I sighed through my nose.
And then from beside him—laughter. Deep, full, the kind that could only come from a man who's seen too much and stopped caring just enough.
Jiraiya smirked, resting an arm on his bent knee.
"Kid, I'm gonna be honest with you. Your sensei here couldn't seal a lunchbox shut if you gave him the instructions."
Naido didn't even argue.
"I was built to destroy Jutsu, not write them," he said flatly, returning to his meditative position.
Jiraiya shook his head, then turned to me with a wide grin.
"But lucky for you… you're standing in front of one of the last living grandmasters of Fuinjutsu."
My eyes widened slightly…if Jiraiya himself was willing to teach me this would be much easier.
"You?"
He jabbed a thumb at himself. "My tales have spread throughout the lands! Just read my books…"
He stood up, brushing off his robe. The moment he rose, the weight of his presence shifted. The goofy grin stayed, but I could tell—he was serious now.
"Here's the deal. You're Naido's student, and you've got a brain on you. You want to learn Fuinjutsu? I don't mind giving you a proper start. But I'm not handing out shortcuts."
"I wouldn't ask for any."
"Good. Then meet me tomorrow morning at the northeast edge of the training field. Bring ink, brushes, sealing tags… and your wallet."
…seems like my wallet is going to die.
Just like a certain Gamma-chan.
…
The clone dispelled as soon as I let my concentration drop—its memories rushing into me like a flash flood.
Only one problem.
I opened my pouch and counted the contents.
2,438 yen.
I stared at the coins like they had personally betrayed me.
"...That's it?"
I flipped the pouch upside down just in case something was hiding in the corners. Nope. Still just a couple crumpled bills, some change, and one mystery dumpling coupon from Naruto that I'd never be able to redeem.
I sighed.
"Guess wars really don't pay."
That and…I think it's being delayed by Danzo. I also have so much shinobi gear to get…
Sure, I had status. Respect. EXP. Hell, I even had a literal kill count.
But financially?
I might as well be Naruto post-Ramen binge.
And now I needed proper tools. Brushes, chakra-sensitive ink, sealing parchment.
Maybe…it's time to start a business here?
...
Authors note:
You can read some chapters ahead if you want to on my p#treon.com/Fat_Cultivator