Kapitel 292: 291- Deny, Deny, Deny!

The question hung in the air like a kunai suspended mid-throw. Renjiro's blank stare betrayed his initial reaction, but he quickly masked it with a look of feigned confusion.

"Does your… condition make you immune to genjutsu?" Jiraiya asked again.

His tone was neutral, almost offhanded, but the intent behind the question was clear. Renjiro blinked, his dark eyes meeting the older shinobi's probing gaze.

'He already figured it out?' He had only given Jiraiya and the others a vague explanation of his chakra seinou, a detail he had hoped would go unnoticed. Yet, somehow, the Sannin had connected the dots.

The silence stretched between them, and Renjiro could feel the weight of Jiraiya's curiosity pressing down on him.

'How should I play this?'

Caught between truth and deception, Renjiro allowed himself a moment to gather his thoughts before tilting his head slightly and feigning ignorance.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with a hint of curiosity, as though he genuinely didn't understand what Jiraiya was suggesting.

Jiraiya smiled faintly, scratching the back of his head. "Think about it," he began, his voice as casual as ever.

"Genjutsu works by manipulating your chakra flow, right? If your chakra can naturally purge foreign chakra… well, doesn't it stand to reason that genjutsu would have a harder time sticking to you?"

Renjiro furrowed his brow, pretending to mull over the idea. "I… hadn't thought about that," he said slowly, his voice laced with just the right amount of uncertainty.

"I always figured that it was easier for me to see through genjutsu because of my Sharingan."

Jiraiya raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not entirely convinced.

"Sure, the Sharingan can help you see through genjutsu," he said, leaning forward slightly, "but if what I'm thinking is right, your chakra could be doing a lot of the heavy lifting. You might be resistant to genjutsu even without relying on your eyes."

Renjiro's face shifted into an expression of realization, as though the idea had just clicked. "Huh… I guess that makes sense," he said, scratching the back of his head.

"But it's not something I've ever tested."

Jiraiya's eyes narrowed slightly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "You're saying you've never noticed genjutsu not affecting you?"

Renjiro shrugged, careful to maintain his nonchalant demeanour. "I've always been able to see through genjutsu easily, but I thought that was just because of my eyes." He hesitated, emphasizing on the matter, then added,

"Do you think I should test it out?"

The Sannin chuckled, his laughter rich and unrestrained. "You should. Who knows? You might be sitting on an untapped gold mine."

Renjiro forced a smile, nodding as if Jiraiya's suggestion was a revelation. Inside, his thoughts were a whirlwind of relief and anxiety.

'Deny, deny, deny,' he reminded himself.

Telling Jiraiya the truth wouldn't gain him anything, and the lie was simple enough to maintain., at least he thought so.

Jiraiya clapped him on the shoulder, his grin widening. "Well, if you ever want to test it, let me know. I know a few tricks that might come in handy."

Renjiro chuckled nervously, stepping back to create some distance. "Thanks, Jiraiya-sama. I'll keep that in mind."

As Renjiro turned to leave, Jiraiya watched him with a bemused expression. Once the boy was out of sight, the Sannin's smile faded into a thoughtful frown.

"His acting needs work," Jiraiya muttered, shaking his head. "But if it's true, I can't blame him for keeping it quiet."

The walk back to his house was uneventful, but Renjiro's mind was far from calm. Jiraiya's probing had left him unsettled, though he was confident he had handled it well enough. But perspective was deceiving in most cases.

Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it and let out a long, heavy sigh. The quiet of his home wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, but it did little to ease the tension in his chest.

He crossed the room and sank into a chair, his head falling back as he stared at the ceiling.

He wasn't physically tired—his body could endure much more than this—but the mental strain of the past few days was beginning to wear him down.

Sneaking into Kumogakure, battling enemy shinobi, moreso a future Kage, and nearly dying in the process had pushed him to his limits.

And then, there was Yano.

The memory of his comrade's death was a weight Renjiro couldn't shake. Yano Shimura had been a hard man to understand, at least to Renjiro, but he had been a skilled shinobi and a dependable ally on the battlefield.

But despite their differences, Renjiro couldn't deny the bond they had forged in the crucible of battle. They had fought side by side on countless missions, both of Anbu and the ones they took together with Minato, facing death together and surviving against impossible odds.

It was hard to go through something like that with someone and not feel their loss regardless of how Renjiro strongly felt about him

"Damn it," Renjiro muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He closed his eyes, images of Yano's last moments flashing in his mind.

Renjiro shook his head as if trying to dislodge the thoughts. Dwelling on the past wouldn't bring Yano back.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, its rhythmic sound a stark reminder of the passing time.

"It's almost noon," he muttered to himself. "Too early to sleep, too late to relax."

He glanced at the sunlight streaming through the window. He knew he couldn't afford to waste the day. Sleeping wasn't an option, and there was still work to be done.

His thoughts drifted to the information Takata had tried to pass on before his death. Renjiro had overheard Iha sharing the details with Jiraiya, and he knew it was the kind of intel that would pique the Uchiha clan's interest.

"Guess I need to talk to Daichi," Renjiro said aloud, sighing heavily. The thought of reporting to the Uchiha clan head wasn't appealing, but it was necessary.

As much as he disliked informing the clan in ANBU matters, this information would buy him some breathing room. 'This should feed them for a while,' he thought. 'Maybe they'll finally get off my back.'

Meanwhile, in the Hokage's office, a tense silence filled the room. Jiraiya stood before Hiruzen Sarutobi, his arms crossed as he watched the Hokage process the information being transferred to him.

Iha Yamanaka stood behind Hiruzen, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Her face was calm but focused, her chakra intertwining with his as she used her clan's technique to relay Takata's intel.

The room was dimly lit, the only sound was the faint hum of chakra and the rustle of papers on the Hokage's desk. Hiruzen's face was lined with concentration, his eyes closed as he absorbed the flood of information.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, and he inhaled sharply. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair, his knuckles white.

"This…" he began, his voice low and urgent. He turned to Jiraiya, his expression grim. "How sure are we that this is credible?"

Jiraiya met the Hokage's gaze, his own face serious. "It lines up with other intel we've gathered," he said. "But we'll need to confirm it. If Takata was willing to risk everything to get this to us, it's worth investigating."

Hiruzen leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he considered the implications. "If even half of this is true…" He trailed off, his voice heavy with the weight of the situation.

Iha stepped back, her face pale from the strain of her technique. She glanced between the two men, her expression reflecting the gravity of the moment.

"We'll need to move quickly," Hiruzen said finally, his tone decisive. "Jiraiya, I want you to start verifying this intel immediately. We can't afford to wait."

Jiraiya nodded, already formulating a plan. "Understood, Lord Hokage. I'll keep you updated."

=====

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Kapitel 293: 292-Time

The office of Daichi Uchiha was an imposing space designed to exude authority, even after being in it a couple of times, it still managed to intimidate Renjiro to some extent. The shelves lined with case files and scrolls framed the room, their labels meticulously marked with the Uchiha crest.

A polished wooden desk stood in the center, its surface cluttered with neatly stacked documents, inkpots, and a single, freshly uncapped brush.

The midday sunlight streamed in through the shoji windows, illuminating motes of dust dancing lazily in the air. Renjiro entered the room with measured steps, his ANBU mask absent but his demeanor no less guarded.

Daichi glanced up, his sharp, calculating eyes narrowing slightly at the unexpected visitor. Though Renjiro had not been summoned, Daichi already knew the purpose of his visit.

"Renjiro," Daichi greeted evenly, his deep voice resonating in the room. He placed his brush down with deliberate care, leaning back in his chair. "I wasn't expecting you today."

Renjiro inclined his head in respect but didn't sit, choosing to stand at a polite distance. "Clan Head," he began, his voice calm but respectful, as he slightly bowed.

Daichi observed him silently for a moment before speaking again. "Have you been on any missions recently?"

Renjiro blinked, slightly caught off guard by the directness of the question. 'No foreplay? Not even the pretence of small talk,' he thought wryly.

'Well, I guess that makes sense. I'm the one who came to him.'

"Yes," Renjiro said as he sat, folding his hands neatly in his lap. "I just returned."

Daichi's pen stilled against the parchment he was working on. His dark eyes narrowed slightly. "And where was this mission?"

"Kumogakure," Renjiro replied without hesitation.

The air in the room seemed to shift. Daichi's hand froze mid-stroke, and he slowly placed the pen down. "Kumogakure?" he repeated, his voice measured but tinged with disbelief.

"What business does ANBU have that far from Konoha?"

Though Daichi had never served in the ANBU, his position as the head of the police force afforded him access to surface-level information about the organization.

Missions in foreign lands were not unheard of, but one in the Land of Lightning—a region known for its hostility toward Konoha—was highly unusual and deeply concerning.

'Does the Hokage want to start a war?' Daichi wondered, his thoughts racing.

Out of all the major shinobi villages, Kumogakure was the farthest from Konoha and, arguably, the most antagonistic. Sending an ANBU team there was an unnecessary provocation.

'What was so important that they had to risk it?'*

Renjiro, sensing the unspoken questions in Daichi's silence, answered carefully. "We were sent to rescue compromised spies."

Renjiro met his gaze evenly, his tone steady. "We were tasked with rescuing spies whose identities had been compromised."

Daichi leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of his chest as he processed this information. "A rescue mission?"

"That was the original plan," Renjiro admitted with a sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly as if weighed down by the memory.

Daichi's dark eyes narrowed. "What changed?"

Renjiro's jaw tightened briefly before he replied. "By the time we arrived, Kumo shinobi were already waiting for us. They ambushed us, led by A himself."

The mention of A caused Daichi's brows to knit together. He tapped a finger against the armrest of his chair in a slow, deliberate rhythm, his gaze never leaving Renjiro's face. "A. So, the Raikage's son himself was involved. That makes things more complicated."

"It did," Renjiro agreed quietly.

"Well," Daichi began, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of scepticism, "it must have been hard to escape from A. Seeing you here safe and sound, I assume your team managed to retreat successfully."

Renjiro's face darkened, and his reply came softly, tinged with regret. "Kakashi and I did. Yano… didn't make it."

The tapping stopped. Daichi's expression hardened, his lips pressing into a thin line. He leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze boring into Renjiro's.

"What happened?"

"Yano sacrificed himself," Renjiro added, his hand flexing at his side as if suppressing some emotion. "He held them off so that Kakashi and I could escape."

It was a lie—a calculated one.

Renjiro knew that revealing the truth would mean disclosing the existence of his summon, Tenjin, and the other lightning eagles. Unlike his exchange with Jiraiya, Renjiro doubted Daichi would let such a revelation slide without extracting every detail.

'The clan wants information about ANBU, but no one said it had to be the whole truth,' Renjiro thought, suppressing an inward scoff.

"How noble of him," Daichi remarked, though the faint edge in his voice made it clear the sentiment wasn't entirely genuine. "And the spies? Were you able to extract them?"

Renjiro shook his head. "No. They all died during the confrontation."

Daichi's eyes narrowed again. "So, you didn't complete the mission?"

Renjiro hesitated, inhaling deeply before responding. "Not exactly. One of the spies, Takata, left behind a mark, some forbidden jutsu from the Yamanaka clan containing vital information he discovered in Kumogakure."

Daichi's interest was visibly piqued. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk and interlocking his fingers. "What kind of information?"

Renjiro's expression turned grim as he delivered the answer. "It seems someone within Konoha has been working with Kumogakure to smuggle people. Civilians, shinobi—anyone with unique bloodlines or ancestry. They're being taken to the Land of Lightning."

Daichi's eyes widened slightly, the weight of the revelation sinking in. "Do we know who this collaborator is?"

Renjiro shook his head. "Takata and his team were close to identifying them, but their cover was blown before they could confirm anything."

Daichi's face darkened, his expression betraying a mix of anger and concern.

The thought of someone aiding Kumogakure in such a scheme was troubling enough, but the implications for the Uchiha clan were even more severe.

'If they're targeting individuals with special abilities, the Uchiha could be next,' he thought grimly.

"This is… concerning," Daichi said finally, his voice heavy with meaning.

"We cannot allow such treachery to go unchecked. If this operation continues, it could put the entire village at risk—and the Uchiha most of all."

Renjiro nodded in agreement, adding, "It might also be connected to a mission I was on prior to this one. We were investigating a smuggling ring suspected to be run by Kumogakure, but we didn't gather enough evidence to link it conclusively."

Daichi tapped his fingers thoughtfully against the desk. "If the two are connected, it means this operation is far larger than we initially thought."

The conversation lingered on the finer points of the mission, with Daichi probing for additional details while Renjiro carefully navigated the line between truth and omission. Finally, sensing that Daichi was satisfied for the moment, Renjiro rose from his seat.

"If that's all, Lord Daichi, I'll take my leave," he said politely.

Daichi waved a hand dismissively, already turning back to the parchment on his desk. "Go. And rest while you can, Renjiro. The clan may need you again soon."

"But don't forget where your loyalties lie, Renjiro." Daichi added

The young shinobi gave a small bow, his tone respectful but firm. "I haven't forgotten."

---

By the time Renjiro returned to his home, the sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of gold and amber. The quiet of his home was a welcome reprieve from the weight of the day's conversations.

He kicked off his sandals and sank into a chair, letting out a long, weary sigh. "Two months of no missions," he muttered to himself. "I need to make the most of it."

His eyes drifted to the high shelf across the room, where a familiar jar sat behind his seals. Rising from his chair, he approached the place slowly, his fingers brushing against the seal as he retrieved the jar.

Inside, a single Sharingan floated, its tomoe lazily rotating as if alive. Renjiro's grip on the jar tightened as he stared into the crimson depths of the eye.

"Time to get the Mangekyō," he whispered, his voice low but filled with resolve.