Capítulo 14: I Made a Genjutsu
Thirty Days Later
The days passed in a blur of training and sleepless nights spent in my Mind Palace, crafting, discarding, and refining countless genjutsu ideas. It wasn't a matter of not having enough inspiration. The real challenge was creating something new—something that would genuinely change the way shinobi thought about illusions.
I spent hours poring over my mental library, recalling my life on Earth, my expertise in the brain.
My approach had always been unconventional—never settling for what was possible, always pushing the boundaries. My standards have always been high, even back on Earth, so I would never settle for anything other than perfection.
From being my class valedictorian to receiving a full scholarship to the Geneva Institute of Medical Sciences—the highest-rated medical school in the world—I've never settled for average. By the time I graduated, I had already published groundbreaking research on neuroplasticity.
Then, there were the awards. A residency at John Hopkins, where I performed my first solo brain surgery at twenty-five, the youngest in the hospital's history.
By thirty-five, I was sought after by royalty, celebrities, and even governments for procedures no one else dared attempt. Innovation was my specialty. Reinvention was in my blood.
Ideas flooded my mind. A genjutsu that induced phantom pain. Another that could strip away all sound, isolating the target in complete silence.
I even played with the idea of a genjutsu that could implant a mental map of an area directly into someone's brain or allow me to record everything I saw and experienced, like Ulquiorra's "Solita Vista."
But none of those were enough—at least not now. Not with what was going on in the world.
And then it hit me.
A genjutsu that allowed silent communication. It wasn't true telepathy, of course (I'd develop that another time), but it could simulate the effect, allowing users to "speak" without being overheard, without sound. I called it Whisper—simple, efficient, and exactly what the ninja world needed.
It would change how shinobi operated on missions, especially during wartime. I had a dozen other ideas ready, but I'd start with this one. It was the most practical and the least likely to give Akira a heart attack. I'd save those others for later.
Akira lounged in the garden of the Yamanaka library, sipping the new matcha blend I'd created for her last week. I'd been experimenting with different brewing techniques—tweaking ratios and temperatures. It seemed to have paid off. She was addicted to the stuff.
"So, let's see what you got, boy?" She looked completely relaxed, her rocking chair creaking as she pushed gently back and forth, watching me over the rim of her teacup.
I stood before her, hands ready, my mind calm. "Hai," I replied, stepping forward. I began to weave the hand signs deliberately, giving her time to observe my process.
Hand signs were the backbone of any jutsu. They shaped the flow of chakra, like a musician playing notes on an instrument. It took quite a bit of time to figure out which combination of signs would bring out the exact effect I wanted, but through trial and error, I figured it out.
Rat → Monkey → Dragon → Snake → Tiger.
With the last sign, I directed my chakra into the genjutsu and locked eyes with Akira—for a bit of flair. The moment the technique took hold, I spoke, my voice echoing directly into her mind.
"Hello, Akira-sama. There is no actual sound involved in this technique."
Her teacup froze halfway to her lips. Her eyes widened slightly, scanning my face in confusion. Then, as the realization hit her, she stiffened.
"I call it 'Whisper,'" I continued in the same calm, soundless voice that mirrored my own. "I'm creating auditory illusions directly in your mind. No one else can hear this but you."
She didn't move for a moment, just stared, eyes narrowing in concentration. Slowly, she set the teacup down and stood up, her entire demeanor shifting from calm to something more serious—sharper, like a blade drawn from its sheath.
"Boy…" She walked towards me, eyes scanning every inch of me like I was a puzzle to be solved. "This… Do you understand what you've just created?"
I gave her a small smile. "I created it with missions and the war in mind. It allows silent communication between shinobi. It should hopefully be beneficial for covert operations or battlefields where silence and discretion are key."
That wasn't even mentioning the benefit it would offer in everyday discussions, political meetings, and so on and so forth.
Akira stepped closer, eyes boring into mine, her tone more intense. "Have you shown anyone else this? Have you told anyone?"
I shook my head. "No. Just you."
"Keep it that way." Her voice was low, commanding. "Don't tell anyone about this, not yet. Not until we understand the full potential of what you've just developed."
We? Perhaps the elders. I thought.
I raised an eyebrow. "You haven't seen anything like this before?"
"No." She shook her head, pacing now, her mind clearly racing with the possibilities. "Whisper… without sound, without interference, no possibility of it being overheard? Even the best sensor-type shinobi might not be able to detect it. Do you understand how valuable this is? What this could mean for the clan, for the village—hell, for the war?"
"I had a feeling," I said simply.
It always amazed me how often people overlooked the simplest things. During missions, shinobi usually used hand signs to communicate silently. But that had obvious downsides. In dire situations where time was of the essence and danger was around the corner, that was a crutch that could lead to death.
I could have spent my time creating a genjutsu that was more flashy or was specifically battle-oriented (not that it didn't have combat uses—it did), but the goal was to create something revolutionary. And what's more revolutionary than pseudo-telepathy?
She stopped pacing and looked at me, her face serious. "Talk me through it. How did you create this? I need to understand the principles."
I nodded, and we both sat down under a sprawling tree, the sunlight casting dancing shadows beneath.
"The concept was simple enough," I began, "but executing it was tricky. I started by breaking down how genjutsu manipulates the senses. Typically, genjutsu affects sight or sound by hijacking sensory input and making the target experience something that isn't real. Most shinobi use it to create visual illusions or disorient their opponents by manipulating their perception of the battlefield."
Akira nodded, still following.
"What I did was more specific. Instead of a full sensory illusion, I focused on sound. But instead of producing actual sound waves in the air, I used chakra to simulate the sensation of hearing within the mind. Think of it like creating a false auditory pathway in the brain, making the target perceive something that isn't there."
She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "So, it bypasses the eardrums entirely and goes straight to the mind?"
"Exactly," I confirmed. "By doing that, I made it so only the people I cast the genjutsu on could hear the sound. No one else. It's a controlled auditory illusion that can't—or at least shouldn't, in theory—be intercepted."
In the anime, genjutsu was shown to have effects on only those it was cast on. That being said, there were always exceptions to the rule, but I had a pretty good guess it would be imperceptible. And besides the obvious, the fundamental principle behind the genjutsu was the creation of sound in one's mind.
Not just my voice.
Akira leaned back, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "And the chakra cost?"
"Minimal—for me, at least," I answered. "It's a very focused genjutsu, and because it doesn't require large-scale sensory manipulation, the chakra expenditure is low. It requires more testing in different situations, but theoretically, you could hold the technique for hours without breaking a sweat."
Her eyes sharpened. "This could change a lot of things."
"… Does that mean I've earned my fuinjutsu training?" I asked.
She laughed. It was the first time I heard her make such a sound. It was uncharacteristically light. "Yes, boy. You've earned it. Come back tomorrow, and we'll start on fuinjutsu."
As she got up to leave, her gaze softened, just for a moment. "And Satoshi… don't show this jutsu to anyone else yet."
I nodded, watching her go. The birds chirped overhead, and the wind rustled through the trees as the garden returned to its quiet serenity.
The jutsu worked, and I'd just cracked open a new door in the world of shinobi warfare. But for now, there was something else on my mind.
Lunch.
It had taken nearly a year of pleading, but Mom finally allowed me to cook a full meal. She was overly cautious about it for some reason—maybe the idea of me handling knives and open flames unnerved her more than me flinging shuriken.
But today, I was going to make pizza. Real pizza.
I grinned as I walked toward the grocery store.
So, what were the ingredients for that recipe again?
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[A/N] Satoshi's first self-made jutsu. What a guy.
The Dialogue for the Genjutsu "Whisper" was in italics. Is that easy to read for you, or would brackets or another distinction be better? Let me know, and leave your comments on what you think in the chat.
If you like the story, please leave a review!
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"Who's ready for some tasty food?" Satoshi asked.
Taro raised his hand, bouncing in his seat. "Me, Me, Me!"
How good is Satoshi's cooking? Guess we'll find out next time on… Yeah, you already know ;)
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