Desolation of the Caged Bird Chapter 32 - The True Disciples

“Is something wrong, Jiraiya-boyo?”

Jiraiya turned his direction towards the south, towards the direction of Konohagakure no Sato. His gaze lingered there for several long, deep seconds.

“I just had an… odd premonition.”

“You oughta focus, Jiraiya-boyo! Now’s not the time for distractions.”

Jiraiya ran his hand through his hair as he glanced at the perpetual rain falling in the distance, rain that fell only around a certain radius, and rain that his senses, amplified by Senjutsu, could detect as being the result of a technique. A very potent sensory technique that would catch anyone unaware of it completely flat-footed.

“You’re right.”

The task of infiltrating Amegakure no Sato was something he could not afford to take lightly. He drew a small sigil in the air, and a tiny paper crane appeared within his hand. He stared at the paper crane in silence for several long, hard seconds. The crane turned into a paper flower, then morphed into a paper arrow, and started pointing forward.

Clasping his hands together, he reached for the air and pulled out a small black toad. Without hesitating, he drew a sigil on the back of the toad, and the creature’s mouth opened wide. Jiraiya stepped through it, and Pa and Ma followed him.

“Gamarero! Yer breath stinks! You oughta watch what you’ve been eating!” Pa chided the toad.

“Don’t mind him, Rero-chan! He gets mean when he’s uneasy.”

“Bah! I do not,” Pa countered. “I’m just sayin’ that this could be a trap, Jiraiya-boyo. I don’t see why you’d go for it.”

Jiraiya sighed. “I’d thought they were all dead, Pa.”

“An’ the first time in years she sends yer a message outta nowhere,” Pa countered. “It’s for this?”

Jiraiya stared again at the paper arrow in his hand. “We know there’s a spy in Konoha. Minato knows it too. The question is how she knows it.”

Gamarero shrank down and hopped forward, moving into the water. During the Sunagakure Offensive, his task was to work as the Spymaster. However, once the Fire Extinguishing Alliance was formed and the Fourth Shinobi World War began in earnest, his primary task had shifted from spymaster to Barrier Master. Putting several barriers around and through the Land of Fire to slow down the assault of enemies from all sides and all corners. He never had a day of rest, nor a moment of relaxation, because his role was beyond critical.

Without the barriers slowing down the offensive, preventing direct assaults, stumbling efforts, and killing en masse, Konoha would likely have long been overrun. Jiraiya had always feared that there would be no one who would be able to take his role were something to happen to him, but, thankfully, Mito-chan, Minato’s daughter, gradually displayed her talent for fūinjutsu.

The apple had not just fallen directly below the tree; its seeds had sprouted into an even larger, grander tree.

He almost laughed at himself once he saw the sheer difference a dedicated Uzumaki could make, compared to his efforts. To say she lightened the load and eased his burden would be a vast understatement. In a few short years, her expertise at Fūinjutsu rivaled his, and a few years after, she surpassed and overtook him in almost all regards and respects.

He had gone from being the girl's fūinjutsu mentor to seeking her advice on certain matters that stumped him. The only reason many still considered him Konoha’s foremost fūinjutsu expert was that she was still young.

With Mito, he was assured that if anything were to happen to him, Konoha would still be able to thrive because she would be able to more than fill the shoes he had left behind.

Even if it’s a trap… I have to enter it.

The existence of the spy was a problem that needed to be resolved. The current war could not continue. Jiraiya could see the toll it had taken on Minato. Ten years of nonstop war would take a toll on anyone, but his student rarely smiled as much as he once did. He rarely spent time with his family. The warmth and light in his eyes faded day by day as the corpses of his shinobi, of the people he swore to protect, piled and mounted.

Even the man’s student, Kakashi, mentioned as much that his sensei was changing, and not for the better. He said he was worried Minato might do something drastic. Jiraiya was worried about that as well. Finding and eliminating the spy in Konoha’s ranks would be the turning point he needed. Once the spy was dealt with, Konoha’s counter-offensive could begin in earnest. 

Minutes after Gamarero continued to travel, the toad ascended from within a drainage channel under Amegakure’s sewer system. His mouth opened, and Jiraiya climbed out, silently and quietly. With Sage Mode, he detected ahead of time that there were no others present, and his attention returned to the floating paper in front of him.

Amegakure no Sato was not part of the Fire Extinguishing Alliance. The nation had been reportedly isolationist ever since Hanzō the Salamander had been killed and replaced with a leader who was worshipped as a god. Though there had been claims that the criminal organization, Akatsuki, operated out of Amegakure no Sato, the organization had been eerily quiet throughout the Konoha-Suna War and had not been heard of at all since the Fourth Shinobi World War began.

Jiraiya moved through the sewers, as quietly as he could, still following the floating piece of paper.

The truth was, even if it wasn’t for the sake of finding the spy, if it wasn’t for the sake of the war, and if it wasn’t for the sake of Konoha, as long as he got this piece of paper, he would not have hesitated to come rushing to Amegakure no Sato.

After all, at the end of the day—

Those three had been his students.

XXXXX - Desolation of the Caged Bird - XXXXX

Wuji Zi sat in the middle of a small arena within the Forest of Death. The Arena was built to be used during the Chūnin Exams, where individuals would meet in the center and battle as preliminaries before the main event, where foreign dignitaries would be present.

His eyes remained closed, but he saw further and vaster than anyone else. All of Konohagakure no Sato was under his purview. There was no corner of the village he could not see, no part of the village he could not peer into, no secret that he could not see.

After ten years, his eyes could be considered a substitute for his long-lost Divine Sense.

The Divine Sense, or Divine Consciousness of a cultivator, was something typically attained after one crossed the Qi Gathering Stage and entered the Foundation Establishment Stage. There were rare, one-in-a-million geniuses who could have Divine Sense greater than their current realm, and those who could possess Divine Sense even as mere Qi Gathering Cultivators.

Glancing over to his new students, he saw all the methods they used to race towards his location.

As expected…

Sasuke relied on the method of utilizing the Body Flicker Technique to high proficiency, racing with such extreme speed through streets that he could not be seen. Naruto, on the other hand, had summoned a large toad and hopped into its mouth, the creature acting as a vehicle.

His gaze pierced the physical and saw deeper within. The lingering chakra of Indra and Asura burned bright in their souls. He turned his gaze away from it, from them, and towards Ino.

She was the oddest of them all. She remained, physically, in the classroom. Her head was placed on the desk as though she were asleep, and the sight brought a soft chuckle to Wuji Zi’s lips. Only he was aware of what she was doing.

They are good seeds.

The time ‘he’ would spend with them was fated to be short. The ten-year deadline was rapidly reaching its end. Even if there was a delay, it would be at best a year or two. Soon, Zi Wuji would emerge from his seclusion and would begin the quest of capturing the jinchūriki. A quest he was destined to succeed at.

Knowing now what I know…

Wuji Zi was aware that once he dispelled, every emotion would transfer, and every memory. However, he knew himself more than anyone…

It would be but a fleeting dream.

Ten years of experience was nothing for a long-lived cultivator. The only reason changes had been profound was because he, Wuji Zi, had chosen not to live as a cultivator. 

Completely abandoning a pursuit of immortality and engrossing himself thoroughly in the life of a mortal was something the clone could do, but not the Self. The original, Zi Wuji, could never do it. As such, these lingering mortal affections and sentiments were something Zi Wuji would inevitably discard. He would have to, as holding such relationships with mortals, those who were not destined for the immortal way, those who could not pursue immortal cultivation, would only invite agony.

Thus, he would accept only the benefits, the insights, the comprehension, and dismiss all else.

Such was the way of man, to seek surplus and abandon deficits.

Thus, for the remaining time I have, these sentiments… these affections… I shall cherish them. These emotions, these connections, however brief, however seemingly without meaning, I will embrace them to the fullest.

Slowly, he rolled back his white sleeve and poured his chakra. Upon his arm was a tattoo. More accurately, a fūinjutsu seal. Any who glanced at it would notice, it appeared as though it contained a three-tomoe Sharingan. A seal designed not for the clone, but for the Self. All he saw, all he engaged in, all he did, would be recorded and etched permanently into the soul, so even after millennia, even after the eons went, even after he ascended to the pinnacle of being, these days, these moments, these fleeting concerns and transient dalliances would be recalled fondly.

Can this be considered selfishness, or should this be considered selflessness?

Wuji Zi chuckled to himself and laughed at himself.

To deceive the heavens, I hold no fear, to deceive the earth, I do not hesitate, but to deceive myself?

Indeed, he could not deceive himself.

He, Zi Wuji, was destined to be an Immortal, beyond mortal concerns. His pursuit of Immortality would never cease. It would never end. Nothing, not even the knowledge of his identity in a past life, not even the karmic bonds and connections placed upon him by a life previously lived, not even Gods, Buddhas, Demons, and Devils, would ever stray him from that unwavering, dogged pursuit of Immortality.

His Dao Heart could not be bent and it could not be broken.

Slowly, he let the seal vanish and covered his arm. He turned his head to the side, his eyes remaining closed, as a chuckle came from his lips.

“You are the first to arrive. Congratulations.”

There was no one, at first glance, present. Except, he could clearly see someone present. The floating, spectral, naked soul of Yamanaka Ino hovered in front of him with equal parts confusion and doubt. Wuji Zi stared at the naked soul with amusement. Whereas for the Self, Zi Wuji, the bodies of kunoichi indeed could not and would never compare to those of the Immortal Jade Beauties he had encountered, the clone, Wuji Zi, had discarded that pursuit of Immortality. As the clone, as one living the ‘mortal way,’ he had found once again, appreciation, fascination, and delight for mortal female bodies.

However, despite that, there was no ‘body’ here to be found. Yamanaka Ino’s soul avatar, which floated naked in the air, possessed a doll-like anatomy, bereft of nipples and the scintillating allure of a yin chamber. There was a faint, almost invisible, series of eight red strings of yin chakra. One connected to her tailbone, two on each arm, one on her spine, and two on her feet. The red strings trailed off, further and further into the distance. Following the red strings, they all combined and connected, predictably, on the nape of the girl who appeared asleep in the classroom.

It was a fascinating technique. 

Shinshin Kugutsu no Jutsu.

Mind-Body Puppet Technique.

The Yamanaka had always possessed the power to convert their consciousness, their souls, into spiritual energy and project that into the bodies of others to control and possess them. Ten years of constant war had led to varying advancements in that art through necessity. 

The weakness of a Yamanaka’s body needing to be protected whilst they performed their technique had become too great of a liability, as was the long stretches of time that it took for a Yamanaka to return to their body once their technique missed. Yamanaka Inoichi sought out the aid of the Fourth Hokage and Jiraiya of the Sannin to create a method to cover that weakness.

The answer was, in the end, tied to fūinjutsu. The application of a seal branded into the body that would function as a ‘string of fate’ that tied the soul to the body. That ‘red string’ functioned in the same manner as a summoning seal, allowing a Yamanaka’s soul to instantly snap back into their bodies at will and whim, as though it were ‘summoned.’

The suggestion for the ‘red string of fate’ came reportedly from the Hokage himself.

However, in the course of doing so, the Yamanaka realized the ‘soul’ being governed by a red string of fate was eerily similar to the Chakra Strings the enemy, Sunagakure no Sato, used for their puppets.

By creating multiple ‘red strings of fate,’ they could control their projected consciousness. The need for a more solid form to easily control gave rise to the art of shaping the consciousness into an avatar of themselves. Thus, the Mind-Body Puppet Technique was born, and in so doing, it evolved the Yamanaka Mind Arts beyond the realm of mind arts. 

The Yamanaka had, as a result of a ten-year-long war, begun to encroach upon the profundities of what the cultivation world would term:

Soul Path Methods.

Of the thousand innumerable Dao, of the innumerable paths of cultivation, the Soul Path had always been one of the most revered, reviled, and feared. Consuming souls, eating souls, devouring ghosts, using souls to power formations, erasing souls from the cycle of reincarnation, soul searching, soul binding, soul linking, and soul shattering—

Soul Path Methods were terrifying, and they were mysterious, ethereal, and profound. Doubly so, because only once one had reached the Nascent Soul Realm could they truly possess the means to properly delve into Soul Cultivation. A Nascent Soul was, after all, a Cultivator’s Immortal Soul, which guaranteed that they would survive any attack, recover from any harm, so long as that Nascent Soul remained intact. Even if their body was destroyed, even if the world was on fire, if one did not have Soul Path Methods, if one did not have techniques and attacks that could target the soul directly, then fighting or even harming a Nascent Soul Cultivator was nothing but a joke.

Even I, not once, did I dare target a Soul Path Jade Beauty as a cauldron…

The methods of a Soul Cultivator were beyond sinister and insidious. One could be pilfered slowly, gradually, for years upon years without ever knowing that something was wrong until it was too late.

Wuji Zi let out a soft chuckle.

Indeed, it is likely that this entire world is within a ‘Sealed Realm.’ A Sealed Realm used to farm mortals within for different purposes…

He regarded Ino again.

However, the Yamanaka are still a long way from true Soul Cultivation… 

“The weakness of your technique lies in the subtle fluctuations of chakra. That others cannot see you does not mean they cannot sense you,” Wuji Zi said. “As for those with eyes like mine…”

With his eyes still closed, he pointed. “To make the breasts of your avatar larger than it is in reality… Did you think no one would ever see them?”

Whatever doubt she’d held that he could not see her vanished. At the same time, Wuji Zi mentally applauded her mindset. She did not get flustered or embarrassed, but landed flat on the ground and slapped her hands together.

A puff of smoke filled the area. A sleeping body appeared, and her mind avatar instantly snapped back inside of it. Yamanaka Ino’s eyes snapped open the very same instant, as she leapt to her feet.

As the avatar can snap back to the body, the body can be summoned at any time to the avatar’s location… Wuji Zi noted. Moreover, the avatar can still ‘possess’ the body of others while it is freely roaming… truly, indeed, a marvelous technique.

Yamanaka Ino was garbed more conservatively than other kunoichi, in that she wore a full-covering attire, with black and dull purple colors. Black pants, akin to those worn by Jōnin, black sandals, a long-sleeved turtle-neck purple top with a zipper, with her Konoha headband attached to the right side of her arm. Her hair fell down one side of her face, and even in spite of, or perhaps, because of the attire she wore, it emphasized a certain ‘restrained’ beauty.  

“Your teammates would never have thought you would be the first to arrive.”

“Because I’m the sole kunoichi in the group?”

“Yes.”

She bit her lip. “You—!”

“Do you wish for me to lie?” Wuji Zi mused. “They only had eyes for each other.”

“Of course they would,” she scoffed. “Being the ‘Kunoichi of the Year’ doesn’t  account for much.”

“You dislike the title?”

“My scores were higher than Sasuke’s, but I get settled with this title that feels like a consolation prize while he gets the ‘Rookie of the Year.’” She scowled. “Why does that stupid title even exist if a kunoichi can never earn it? Why does the ‘Kunoichi of the Year’ title exist at all?”

“If the title did not exist, the most exceptional kunoichi would always be outshone by the best shinobi,” Wuji Zi replied. “They never considered the possibility that a day would come when a kunoichi would outshine every shinobi.”

“I worked hard. Every day. I worked harder and harder than anyone else. At the end of the day, they still make you my Jōnin-sensei—”

“You dislike me.”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Because of what I represent?”

“I never agreed to it. My father never agreed to it.”

“I know.”

“You…” Ino’s brows furrowed. “You know?”

“Yes.”

“They said you weren’t against it?”

“I said I was willing to honor it,” Wuji Zi corrected. “As I told your Clan Elders, I am willing to honor it only because I desire to honor my grandfather’s wishes. It was his idea, arranged long before the war.”

Wuji Zi paused, shaking his head.

“I cannot ask him what he was thinking when he made the agreement with your Clan Elders. Somehow, I fear this is his way of playing a prank on me from beyond the grave. I was fond of playing a lot of pranks on him as well.”

Wuji Zi thought of the time he impersonated his grandfather and gave a speech to the clan, and the time he blatantly lied with the man’s name as he altered the Caged Bird Seal, and how both times, the elderly man covered for him. An ache formed in his chest, as a twinge of a smile was born, and then died the next moment.

“However, as I have already told your Clan Elders, as I am willing to honor it, I would prefer it if you were as well.”

“They don’t care about my willingness. They said I needed to prove ‘exceptional value’ and make Jōnin in five years or the agreement will hold regardless,” Ino scoffed. “We’re at war. We need more women to have children or our population will suffer. We need stronger alliances or our clan will suffer. Those are the excuses they gave, but the truth is they just don’t want a kunoichi as the Clan Head.”

“Are they purely excuses?”

She scowled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it means,” Wuji Zi said. “Are they purely excuses?”

Ino hesitated. Her lips opened and closed. She stood in silence.

“Civilians are less willing to send their children to the academy,” she admitted. “A friend of mine… her mother withdrew her from the Academy because her father died, and she was afraid her daughter would die too. Even Hokage-sama increasing the graduation age hasn’t changed much… but… but…”

Ino bit her lip.

“But the public perception of Kunoichi is changing. The ‘Five Goddesses’ are changing it…  day by day. They’re proof that kunoichi can contribute way more to the war than others think.”

Wuji Zi nodded. “They are.”

“I won’t let anyone stop me! I won’t let anyone tell me I can’t do something because of something I didn’t choose when I was born! I want to be a strong kunoichi! A powerful kunoichi! One of the strongest! No, the strongest!”

“Good.”

“I— good?” Ino faltered. 

“Good,” Wuji Zi repeated.

That single word took all the wind out of her sails. Wuji Zi found it amusing. She had riled herself up for an argument, a fight, but with a single word, he had disarmed her, and she had no method of recourse. She had readied a blade to attack an enemy, but that enemy was air, and now, she knew not what to do with that blade in hand.

“You’re not… You don’t seem…” 

“Seem?”

She gesticulated about. “The way people described you… you’re…  different from what I… heard.”

“What did you hear?”

“They said you’re talented and love Konoha, but you believe everyone around you is an incompetent idiot, unless they’re a genius…” she hesitated. “They said you would probably laugh at me if I told you my dream… or sneer and mock me.”

“Then they are fools,” Wuji Zi said, dryly. “Fools who cannot fathom the depths of their own foolishness.” 

“See! Like that!” Ino pointed. “They said you were more like that!”

“They misunderstand me, but I have never cared to make myself understood, so they cannot be blamed,” Wuji Zi admitted. “I treat others as I see them. To those whom I see the depths of their effort, or the brilliance of their genius, I applaud, and I support. There are but a handful of people on that list: my teammates, Itachi and Anko. The Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato. My master, Might Guy, my dear cousin, Hinata. I respect them because one way or another, they have earned my respect or my admiration. They are worthy of it.”

“But I’m not.”

“Not yet.”

“So…” Ino crossed her arms under her chest. “Why treat me differently?”

“Is it not obvious?”

Wuji Zi smiled.

“What master, indeed, can be callous to his cute little disciple?”

Ino backed away, stammering. “C-c-cute?”

A gust of wind blew into place as Sasuke arrived, with leaves dancing around him. The very next moment, a toad crashed in from the roof, and a blond shinobi clambered out of it, panting and gasping.

Both boys suddenly became aware that neither of them was the first to arrive. The actual first person to arrive had a red face and was holding a kunai and waving it at their new sensei.

“Managing to not only make it here, but find me in under five minutes is beyond the skills expected of a typical Genin,” Wuji Zi announced. “However, Sasuke, Naruto, you’re both tied for last place. Your teammate, Ino, came in first.”

“Wha—? Ino-chan… did?”

Sasuke frowned. “You never said anything about it being a race, Neji-ni.”

“Yet you all competed to get here first as though it were, using your own methods, without giving any thought to how you could reach here together or if it would have been faster to do so, or if it was wise, indeed, to come alone.”

Naruto frowned. “Huh?”

“What if, in the course of getting here alone, I chose to ambush you? What if it were not me, but a spy instead, who had taken my face? Did you consider that possibility?”

Wuji Zi pointed. 

“She had the foresight to scout ahead with her clan’s special technique, only arriving in person with her body once she confirmed that it was indeed me, and not an imposter.”

Both of them turned to her, and Ino blinked as she turned to them. “It’s common sense for a kunoichi not to meet a shinobi without scouting first… especially during wartime.”

Both boys looked as though they had swallowed a lemon.

“It is due to that caution and prudence that I will be making her officially my Eldest-Disciple. She will be your Elder-Disciple Sister. You will listen to her words, her advice, and address her with seniority.”

“W-wha? You’re making Ino-chan the leader of the team? But she’s—”

“I’m what?” Ino asked, sweetly. “What were you about to say, Naruto-kun?”

Naruto clamped his lips shut. “N-n-nothing…”

Wuji Zi smiled. Indeed, you, Naruto, would never be willing to accept Sasuke as the leader, and Sasuke would never be willing to accept you as the leader. 

“Do you have any issues with my decision, Sasuke-kun?”

Sasuke shook his head.

A conflict eternal, a conflict that continues in your souls, cannot be resolved if one of you is put above the other. To dismantle such a petty rivalry and allow you both reach your true potential… 

“The first lesson I will impart upon you is this.”

Wuji Zi lifted his left hand.

“While one can indeed achieve great things through their own efforts,” he looked towards Sasuke. “And while one may seem to be lacking in others despite their best efforts,” he looked towards Naruto and Ino. “At day’s end, whether you are a genius foretold by heaven, or a struggler despised by fate, always remember—”

He lifted his right fist and, slowly, he smacked it into his left hand. 

“Five separate fingers cannot overcome one fist. One fist cannot overcome ten palms.”

He could almost hear himself, Zi Wuji, saying, Then one must have a hundred fists! One must conquer through absolute power!

However, unless one had reached the end of the cultivation, had reached the true pinnacle of existence, unless one had ascended beyond all others, stood unrivaled across all of existence, they would always need others.

He, Zi Wuji, would state he had achieved everything he had by himself, but even that was only a false truth.

A thief cannot exist without a person to steal from, and a murderer cannot exist without a person to kill. Even if in using others, in robbing from others, in stealing from others, exploiting others as cauldrons and stepping stones—

“You need each other.”

One needed others.

Cultivation, be it demonic or righteous, was a gradual accumulation of the efforts of others. Every technique he knew, even if stolen, was created through the blood and sweat of others. How then, could he truly claim he had arisen by himself? How could he stand tall upon the mountain of effort, the great towers of endeavors, and claim that the sights could still be seen when standing on nothing but his own two feet?

Such a claim could only be self-deception.

“Do not hesitate to rely on each other.”

A singular grain of salt was but a mere victim to the wind, but an endless pillar of salt that spread beyond the stars could drown even immortals.

“You are a team.”

Grain by grain, piece by piece.

This was the wisdom Wuji Zi gained from his time as a ‘mortal.’

It was the wisdom he gleaned after digesting the memories of his ‘past life.'

It was the wisdom he understood as a ‘Sage.’

And it was wisdom that was heretical to the mindset of a Demonic Cultivator.

It was a thought, a belief, that fell in line with the perspective of Righteous Cultivators. 

But who determines what is Demonic and what is Righteous? What do I care of such distinctions? 

Wuji Zi smiled.

In the end, I, Zi Wuji, will still be Zi Wuji.

“You are my precious disciples.”