"Nine-Tails… jinchūriki?"
Obito Uchiha stared at Black Zetsu in confusion. For a brief moment, he genuinely wondered if something had gone wrong with Black Zetsu's mind.
If there was anyone who understood the situation of the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki, it was Obito.
To put it bluntly—there being two jinchūriki now was entirely his doing.
Minato Namikaze had sealed the Nine-Tails, but Kushina Uzumaki had been in a critical condition. In the end, Minato chose to split the Nine-Tails' power into two, with each of them bearing half.
However, something had gone wrong with the sealing process, forcing the two of them to leave Konoha together to recover.
Obito knew this—Black Zetsu himself had told him.
And yet now, Black Zetsu was standing here, claiming that another Nine-Tails jinchūriki had appeared in Kirigakure.
How was he supposed to believe that?
Could it be that his former teacher and Kushina had somehow mastered control over the Nine-Tails in just a few months… uncovered his identity… and then come all the way to Kirigakure to confront him?
Obito's expression turned strange as he looked at Black Zetsu, while Black Zetsu himself felt equally troubled.
Truthfully, he should have been the one least likely to believe such a thing.
As the mysterious will born from Kaguya Otsutsuki, he understood better than anyone how the tailed beasts had come into existence.
The Ten-Tails had been split into nine by Hagoromo Otsutsuki, and every one of those nine now had a host.
So where, exactly, had this additional "Nine-Tails jinchūriki" come from?
No matter how he looked at it, the situation was deeply unsettling.
At times, an even more disturbing thought crept into his mind—
Could there be… another Ten-Tails in this world?
It was a question with no answer.
And more importantly, it was one he didn't dare voice aloud.
"It is indeed the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki," Black Zetsu said after steadying himself, his tone turning firm. "There's no mistake. I carry Madara's will—I would never misidentify the Nine-Tails' chakra. That presence… is unquestionably it."
"But the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki should be—"
Obito's voice trailed off as his expression gradually grew serious.
"…Could it be them?"
"No. It's not their chakra," Black Zetsu replied decisively, shaking his head. He had been there with Obito in Konoha—he wouldn't make such a mistake. "It's someone else. The chakra feels… familiar, yet completely different. It's strange."
In truth, Natsuhiko's method of concealment was remarkably effective.
Chakra was one of the clearest identifiers of a person's identity. Yet Natsuhiko had tampered directly with that "evidence."
When he fought Obito before, he had masked himself with senjutsu chakra.
Now, he was completely cloaked in the Nine-Tails' chakra.
As a result, what others sensed felt similar—but the differences were even more pronounced.
After all, the base was still Natsuhiko's own chakra. Some resemblance was inevitable.
But the dominant nature of it leaned far more toward senjutsu… or the Nine-Tails.
Because of that, whether it had been Orochimaru before or Black Zetsu now, neither of them had been able to truly discern the truth.
Setting aside Natsuhiko's real identity, Black Zetsu knew one thing—
This matter required serious consideration.
If there truly existed another Ten-Tails in this world…
Then did that mean there could also be another being like his "mother"?
In his heart, Kaguya Otsutsuki was absolute—the supreme existence, a true god.
The emergence of anything capable of challenging her position was, under no circumstances, something to welcome.
Even so, Black Zetsu remained composed.
This was not something to act on rashly.
It needed to be investigated—thoroughly, and without error.
Without sufficient intelligence, everything would remain nothing more than speculation.
And without reliable information, there could be no proper analysis—nor any meaningful plans moving forward.
"No matter what, since this person has come, we should give him a proper 'welcome,'" Black Zetsu said after a moment of thought, looking at the silent Obito Uchiha.
"After all, he's a Nine-Tails jinchūriki. Dealing with him shouldn't be too difficult for you… though, considering how well he seems to handle that power, we'll need to be cautious."
Obito fell into thought before speaking slowly, "Then I'll use the Fourth Mizukage's authority to gather the shinobi. Since he's already here, we should try to keep him. It is the power of the Nine-Tails—if we can—"
"No!"
Black Zetsu's expression shifted instantly as he cut him off.
"Normal preparations are enough. Don't go overboard, and don't even think about capturing him."
His voice grew heavier, more deliberate.
"What we need is information—nothing more. Learn what we can, confirm what we must, and leave it at that."
He paused, then continued in a lower tone.
"Think about it. If there's one Nine-Tails jinchūriki… then could there also be an Eight-Tails? A Seven-Tails? Or worse—what if there are nine of them, just like him… and they all come at once?"
He stopped there.
Beneath the mask, Obito's face twitched slightly.
One-on-one, they had nothing to fear. Obito's abilities were strange and unpredictable, and with the power of the Mangekyō Sharingan, they held a natural advantage over tailed beasts and their hosts.
But if there were nine opponents of that level…
Retreat would be their only option.
And by then, the Land of Water would likely be reduced to ruins.
Obito did hate Kirigakure. If not for other considerations, he might have been perfectly content to watch the entire village—and the country with it—sink into oblivion.
But he couldn't allow that.
Not yet.
If he drew the attention of such unknown forces, all of his future plans would be jeopardized. The Rinnegan—so critical to dealing with the tailed beasts—was not yet fully matured.
He needed more time.
With that thought, Obito finally let out a quiet sigh and nodded.
Seeing this, Black Zetsu inwardly relaxed. He had genuinely been worried that Obito might act recklessly and attempt to capture the target outright.
Truthfully, part of him would have liked to see that happen.
But he was, above all else, patient.
Every action he took was carefully weighed—just as the ideas he instilled in Obito were always grounded in caution. And beyond even that, his concerns ran deeper, hidden beneath the surface.
What if there really was another Ten-Tails?
If that were true… then the situation would be far more dangerous than it appeared.
"Fine… I understand. I'll—"
Obito began, but before he could finish, a knock sounded at the office door.
His brows furrowed. In the next instant, a swirling vortex appeared, and he vanished into it, while Black Zetsu silently sank back into the ground.
Moments later, Yagura Karatachi slowly raised his head from the Mizukage's seat.
His eyes were dull, mechanical—devoid of true awareness.
"Come in," he said flatly.
The door opened, and an ANBU operative stepped inside, dropping to one knee.
"Mizukage-sama, something has happened. The ANBU assigned to monitor the Kaguya clan have clashed with them, and now—"
"A clash?" Yagura's tone remained indifferent, though there was a faint hint of confusion. "Have they already made their move?"
"I don't believe so," the ANBU replied, shaking his head before letting out a quiet sigh. "But it may be soon. Both our men… and theirs… are dead."
"Dead… I see."
Yagura nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. After a brief pause, he gave his command.
"Then prepare. The moment they act… we strike."
—
Natsuhiko felt the strange power coursing into his body, weaving together with his existing chakra in a complex, almost unnatural fusion.
Taking a deep breath, he quickly formed a series of hand seals.
With a puff of smoke, a shadow clone appeared at his side.
The area he had chosen was already layered with multiple sealing barriers, carefully arranged to ensure control.
But even so, for the sake of caution, he needed the assistance of a shadow clone—
To activate the Flying Thunder God and send her back safely.
Natsuhiko had not forgotten where he was—nor had he forgotten just how troublesome Black Zetsu could be.
Only after making all the necessary preparations did he finally calm his mind and begin to carefully sense the changes within himself.
The strange pulling force that had surged through his body earlier was gradually settling down. It no longer stirred his chakra into chaos as it had before.
And in that calm… came clarity.
He could now feel it—understand it.
He knew how to control this power, and more importantly, how to guide these different chakra natures toward fusion.
With a steady breath, Natsuhiko began to mobilize his chakra.
In an instant, the energies of Fire Release, Wind Release, and Earth Release surged to life within him.
These three forces, though distinct, all originated from his own chakra. Because of that, they could operate simultaneously without conflict.
But merging them into one…
That was an entirely different matter.
Each type of chakra had its own flow, its own nature, its own inherent characteristics. And the deeper one's understanding of a specific chakra nature became, the more rigid that understanding tended to be.
That rigidity became a barrier.
When attempting fusion, one's own ingrained perception could easily become a limitation.
Without imagination, there could be no creation.
And yet, the more deeply one understood a chakra nature, the harder it became to break free from that understanding and reshape it.
Ironically, those with less refined comprehension might sometimes find it easier to attempt fusion—but without a solid grasp of chakra to begin with, how could they possibly control such a process?
It was a contradiction.
A fundamental paradox.
And it explained why even something as "simple" as a two-nature combination—like a Kekkei Genkai—was so rare.
But my situation is different.
Natsuhiko's thoughts remained steady as he moved forward.
Fusion is difficult—but that doesn't mean there aren't… more flexible methods.
With that, he guided the newly absorbed fusion-type energy within him, allowing it to gently envelop the three chakra natures.
That power was silent—subtle, almost imperceptible. It carried no destructive force of its own.
But the moment it wrapped around the three types of chakra, something changed.
Natsuhiko could feel it.
The shift was faint, nearly undetectable—so subtle that without his already advanced mastery over chakra transformation, he might not have noticed it at all.
Still, it was there.
Taking another deep breath, he began to guide the three chakra natures toward each other.
He didn't choose the safer method of fusing two first and then incorporating the third.
That approach was stable—but far too slow.
Given the system's efficiency, if the time required to fuse two or three types of chakra was roughly the same, then there was no reason not to choose the faster path.
If he had been in Konoha, he might have taken things more cautiously.
But here… he didn't have that luxury.
"…Is it reacting?"
The moment the three chakra natures made contact, Natsuhiko immediately felt a powerful rejection force surge between them.
It was instinctive—almost as if it were woven into their very existence.
The backlash sent vibrations through his body, making him visibly uncomfortable.
Chakra fusion was fundamentally different from composite ninjutsu.
Composite techniques merely intertwined separate chakra natures after they had already left the body and taken form as techniques.
At their core, they weren't truly fused—they were simply interacting, cooperating on the surface.
But what Natsuhiko was attempting now…was something deeper—something fundamentally different.
He was forcibly combining chakra of entirely different natures, each with its own distinct properties, into a single unified structure.
And it wasn't just a matter of differing attributes—the very operating principles of these chakra types were incompatible.
To make matters worse, the "battlefield" was his own body. The level of danger was almost unimaginable.
Yet just as the three chakra natures collided and began to swell with unstable power—
the fusion-attribute energy he had absorbed earlier suddenly began to seep in.
It spread rapidly, penetrating into the three chakra natures like something without any physical form or resistance.
It searched frantically for the tiniest "gaps" within them.
No matter how small those gaps were, it forced its way in without hesitation.
And even as it infiltrated, it never severed the connection between the chakra and its surrounding structure.
In only a brief moment, the process was complete.
Within Natsuhiko's perception, his body now contained three distinct chakra colors—yellow, green, and blue—all of them wrapped tightly within a transparent layer of energy.
"…The first step is complete?"
Feeling the progression, Natsuhiko immediately moved on to the next stage.
Now came the true fusion.
The power within him surged once more. The transparent energy began to tighten its hold, forcing the three chakra natures to merge together under its guidance.
And at that instant—
a far more violent shockwave erupted inside his body.
The tremor spread even to his internal organs, while the chakra channels carrying the energy were subjected to intense, almost unbearable pain.
But pain was something ninjas had long since learned to disregard.
Whether in training or battle, they were constantly exposed to injury. Pain tolerance was simply part of survival.
If anything, what ninjas found hardest to endure was not physical pain—but emotional suffering.
Slowly, steadily, Natsuhiko continued to draw the three chakra natures closer together.
Under the influence of the transparent energy, they were gradually broken apart.
But this "break" was not destruction.
Natsuhiko could clearly perceive that each chakra nature still maintained its own independent structure, still existing as separate systems.
And yet, under this new perspective granted by the transparent energy, he could now see the most intricate divisions within them—rules and structures that had previously been completely hidden.
"Water Release has an extraordinary capacity for compatibility. That compatibility stems from its most basic usage… but it may also be its most fundamental characteristic."
"Within that compatibility, there is also softness, adaptability… and more."
"Wind and Earth each have their own distinct traits as well."
"Some are obvious, some are subtle—but they all exist, without exception."
As he absorbed this fully deconstructed view of chakra, something within Natsuhiko began to shift.
He had once believed that reaching a high-level mastery of chakra meant he already possessed an almost incomprehensible understanding of it.
But now he realized—he had barely scratched the surface.
Breaking a single chakra nature apart revealed countless hidden secrets.
And when multiple chakra natures were dissected and then intertwined with one another, the complexity multiplied to an even greater, almost overwhelming degree.
Natsuhiko was not someone who disliked research. The system had given him power—and a basic framework—but how to truly utilize that power depended entirely on himself.
However, deeper theoretical exploration had always been beyond his reach.
He lacked the resources, the equipment, and most importantly—the institutional backing to safely validate his ideas.
Without support, any experimentation carried inherent risk.
But now, as the fusion of the three chakra natures continued within his body…
It felt as though a completely new door had been opened before him.
A door leading into something unknown… and profoundly fascinating.
Natsuhiko devoured every trace of this newly formed power with an almost desperate hunger. At this moment, he even found himself beginning to understand Orochimaru's mindset.
Curiosity toward the unknown had always been human nature.
And for a ninja, that curiosity only grew stronger when it was tied to ambition—when uncovering secrets, deciphering them, mastering them, and ultimately turning them into personal strength became the very fuel that drove one forward.
No matter what one studied, once curiosity and desire intertwined, that investigative impulse would only deepen.
"And I think… I finally understand why Kekkei Mōra is so terrifying."
Feeling the increasingly intricate entanglement of chakra within his body, Natsuhiko couldn't help but let out a faint, wry smile inwardly.
Kekkei Genkai had already surpassed ordinary chakra in quality—that much was undeniable.
But if one used that alone to describe Kekkei Mōra, it would almost be an insult to that level of power.
The fusion of seven different natures of chakra didn't just elevate strength—it transformed it into something incomprehensible. More importantly, no matter what kind of power an opponent used, they could never escape its scope.
Kekkei Mōra represented a complete understanding of chakra—its flow, its fundamental nature, its intrinsic rules. In the face of such power, any technique would ultimately become meaningless.
"Kekkei Mora…"
This world of shinobi had always belonged to those with bloodlines—it was a stage dominated by the Ōtsutsuki clan and their descendants.
Even if fate had left a path open for ordinary shinobi to rise beyond their limits, that path was little more than an abyss.
Before attempting this fusion, Natsuhiko had only assumed it would be extremely difficult.
Now, he knew the truth.
For a brief moment, he even felt a trace of pity for ordinary shinobi.
And, in a strange way… for himself as well.
If he hadn't possessed the system—if he hadn't obtained that "seed" with fusion properties—then this path, the road toward something like Kekkei Mōra, would have been forever beyond his reach.
"Of course… maybe not entirely impossible," he mused inwardly. "If I could capture that 'thing'… then perhaps everything would change again."
Different people had different ways of playing the game.
There were always different ways to reach power. Those with systems had their methods; those without had to find others.
If you had resources, you relied on technology. If you didn't, you relied on mutation. And if you had neither…
Then you relied on yourself.
It was something he had once heard in his previous life—a joke, almost—but here, it rang with unexpected truth.
Only one thing needed correcting: no matter the path—whether through "cheats" or sheer effort—in the end, everyone had to rely on themselves.
Even as these thoughts drifted through his mind, Natsuhiko had already absorbed all the insights he had gained. His ability to split his focus, honed during his years in the ANBU, allowed him to think and act simultaneously without losing control.
By now, the chakra within his body had gradually stabilized.
The violent tremors and searing pain had vanished completely, replaced by an overwhelming sense of clarity and exhilaration.
A new kind of power was forming within him—refining itself, strengthening itself, growing with every passing moment.
And from what he could feel, its destructive potential was no less than that of the Nine-Tails' chakra or Sage Mode.
"…What a terrifying power."
Even the Nine-Tails was shaken by the chakra forming inside him. Its voice echoed within his mind, filled with genuine astonishment.
"In all my memories spanning centuries… only a handful of individuals have ever managed to fuse multiple chakra natures like this."
"Even Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju never truly reached this level."
"…Is that so?" Natsuhiko smiled faintly at the remark, though a sigh followed soon after.
"But even so… those guys never feared such power. That old man from Iwagakure could use it too, and his teacher—the Second Tsuchikage Mu—was the same…"
"And yet, those very same people once came to Konohagakure seeking peace in a humbled state—only to be completely suppressed by a single Uchiha Madara, unable even to lift their heads."
Kekkei Tōta was indeed powerful, but compared to beings who directly inherited the power of the Ōtsutsuki—even if that power was fragmented, altered, and imperfect—it was enough to leave anyone feeling disheartened.
Still, thinking about it carefully, one of those men was the reincarnation of Indra, and the other the reincarnation of Asura.
And later, Ōnoki overcame his inner demons and fully demonstrated the terrifying power of Kekkei Tōta as well.
All things considered, while they might not match those kinds of monsters, they were still unquestionably among the top-tier combat forces in the entire world.
As the three chakra natures finally fused completely, Natsuhiko could feel a far more overwhelming surge of power ripple through his body.
He raised his hand slightly, and in an instant, that power gathered and condensed across his palm.
A silvery, semi-transparent chakra shimmered into existence—beautiful, almost ethereal… yet undeniably dangerous.
"Don't keep calling those two monsters 'those guys.' In any era, those two would stand at the very pinnacle."
The Nine-Tails responded first, its gaze fixed on the chakra in his hand, before continuing with a question.
"So this is the power of Kekkei Tōta? What are you going to call it?"
"Yeah… those two would be fearsome in any age," Natsuhiko replied softly, shaking his head as he dispersed the chakra back into his body.
"As for a name… I haven't decided yet. Even how to properly use it will take time for me to figure out. But…"
A faint glint appeared in his eyes.
"I have a feeling it won't disappoint me."
That confidence wasn't baseless. Even in its current incomplete state, this chakra alone already carried an oppressive presence that was more than enough to intimidate anyone.
Its density and quality were far beyond imagination. And if it were combined with the power of the Nine-Tails—or even Sage Chakra—the result would likely be far more than a simple addition of forces.
It would be something entirely different.
However, as impressive as it was, there was also a clear drawback.
This chakra was something Natsuhiko had personally developed, refined, and fused himself. Because of that, it had no precedent anywhere in the history of the ninja world.
Which meant one thing—there were no existing techniques tailored for it.
He had power, but no established framework to use it.
Everything would have to be explored and developed from scratch, and not just in terms of power usage, but safe application as well.
That was already the bare minimum requirement. As for things like creating entirely new jutsu, or optimizing output while minimizing consumption—those were luxuries far beyond what he could afford to think about right now.
Honestly speaking, Natsuhiko now realized he had underestimated things far too much in the beginning.
Take the Rasengan, for example. Minato Namikaze had drawn inspiration from the Tailed Beast Bomb and still spent years developing it into completion.
And Naruto, even after that, relied on hundreds of shadow clones just to refine and evolve it into the Rasenshuriken.
That alone made the difficulty of creating a single technique painfully clear. And what he was attempting now wasn't just that—it was building an entire system of techniques from a brand-new form of power starting from zero.
It was practically hell-mode difficulty.
Even for someone like him, it was enough to give him a headache.
"…But that might actually be a good thing."
At least this way, he could design everything according to his own preferences—naming conventions, visual effects, even how techniques manifested in combat.
It was, in a sense, a form of consolation amid hardship.
Over the next few days, Natsuhiko focused entirely on testing and maximizing the use of his new power.
Perhaps because his previous arrangements had been too effective, the intelligence gathered by his shadow clones showed no immediate abnormalities.
Still, he didn't allow himself to relax.
It was possible that his actions had simply given Obito and the others a convenient excuse to shift their focus elsewhere for now, placing greater attention on the Kaguya clan instead.
And Natsuhiko knew very well that the Kaguya clan would eventually rebel.
As for why they would go so far as to rebel in the first place, he suspected it was likely due to Obito's policies and provocations.
After all, Obito's methods had already caused widespread dissatisfaction, especially among the clan-based ninja factions.
It was only natural that attention would eventually fall on a clan that was already volatile, poorly regarded within the village, and harboring its own hidden intentions.
Those people would become a target to establish dominance—a brutal, overwhelming demonstration of force that would allow Obito to firmly cement his authority.
At the same time, it would also trigger a chain reaction of sympathy among the other clans, the sense of "the fox grieving over the rabbit's death," so to speak.
And once that kind of collective unease took root, any future sign of disobedience or abnormal behavior could be crushed alongside them without hesitation.
In simple terms, Obito was indulging in revenge—but disguising it beneath a system of authoritarian control.
The more people resisted, the more satisfied he would become.
When Natsuhiko encountered ANBU while searching for Kimimaro of the Kaguya clan, he already understood that the clan likely didn't have many peaceful years left.
His very presence—and the things he had done—had become the spark that lit the fuse.
And judging from recent troop movements within Kirigakure, Obito might even end up thanking him for it.
"…But that works out just fine. When the time comes, I'll be able to use all of this as cover to properly track him down."
Ever since completing his first chakra fusion and gaining an almost unimaginable level of understanding over chakra itself, Natsuhiko had been itching to do it again.
That single breakthrough hadn't just granted him a brand-new Kekkei Tōta—it had also drastically elevated his understanding of all individual ninjutsu.
Unfortunately, he no longer had the necessary "materials." He would need to find more—far more.
Standing by a lake at the edge of Kirigakure, Natsuhiko slowly gathered chakra within his body.
Then, suddenly, he opened his eyes.
An eerie pressure erupted from within him in an instant.
He drew a ninja sword in a fluid motion, and a vast surge of silvery chakra condensed along the blade, shimmering like liquid light.
In the next moment, as the chakra resonated violently, a phantom silhouette appeared behind him—a woman with long silver hair.
If one looked closely, faint traces of Ōtsutsuki Kaguya could be seen within that illusion.
And yet, she was not the same.
She had silver hair, pale eyes, and an overwhelming arrogance that seemed to suffocate anything nearby.
Petals of cherry blossoms drifted along the edge of Natsuhiko's blade as he swung it down with force.
"Ninjutsu: Konohanasakuya-hime."
The blade tore through the air.
A silent, silver arc of energy blossomed outward, and in that instant, the earth began to tremble violently.
A fissure appeared before him without warning, spreading rapidly into the distance with no visible end.
The crack expanded further and further, as if the land itself were being torn apart.
The small lake in front of him was instantly split open. Water cascaded downward like a waterfall into the newly formed abyss, and in the blink of an eye, the entire lake vanished without a trace.
"…Not bad." Natsuhiko looked at the destruction he had caused and smiled faintly.
With a slight shift of chakra, his figure disappeared from the spot.
He wasn't foolish enough to linger here—such an explosion of power would definitely attract attention.
"Power-wise, it's certainly impressive… but don't you think it's a bit flashy for no reason?"
The Nine-Tails' voice echoed in his mind again, laced with obvious disdain.
To it, the technique was nothing more than unnecessary extravagance. A single slash had been turned into the projection of a woman, accompanied by decorative cherry blossoms—pure waste of chakra.
In the Nine-Tails' eyes, this made no sense at all. With so much chakra at his disposal, why bother with such meaningless theatrics?
"You don't get it," Natsuhiko replied casually through their mental link. "This is to differentiate between 'Natsuhiko the shinobi' and 'Natsuhiko the so-called 'terrorist.'"
Whether it was the phantom woman, the cherry blossom effects, or even naming the technique after a floral goddess—everything was intentional.
If the Mangekyō abilities could be named after gods and myths, why couldn't he do the same?
Besides…
Being strong and looking good while doing it—those were both lifelong priorities.
And with that thought, his figure vanished completely from the lakeside.