Chapter 169: Chapter 167: Finding a rogue wood release user? (end)
In the dimly lit underground bunker, Homura meticulously sewed a patch of dead skin onto himself. The room was filled with the pungent scent of antiseptic, and the dim glow of a single flickering bulb cast eerie shadows on the walls. Homura's face showed a mix of concentration and detachment as he worked on the delicate procedure.
Homura (grumbling to himself): Tch! That was a waste of a month, I should have been practicing my lightning release before the semester ended...Instead I spent most of my free time spying on little girl... curse my lack of balls to do what need to be done. *Sigh*
Homura who had very little free time spent all the free time he had trying to follow and learn all he could about his target.
Which happened to be a young girl named Moegi Kazamatsuri. He didn't even know she had a family name when he first began. His information of the past was spotty, since it was based on memories of a past life and they were dependent on his previous incarnation's free time.
Naruto, or rather the Naruto franchise, was not even his favorite franchise; so the information he had was from him catching up some forums or from episodes. He now regretted not watching more or dive deeper into the lore of the franchise, but he had enough to usually get most of the information he wanted but it was mostly auxiliary such as games or random episodes he happened to catch while being bored.
In other words, it was mostly unreliable but also somewhat reliable, it was quite strange.
Though, that did not make having to follow a young child with a lot of free time any easier.
Which Homura had completely how it felt to have free time. Besides training and working, free time didn't exist for someone trying to become a ninja.
If he had free time he had to maintain his weapons and other tools in perfect condition, thus even during his free time he had other tasks.
Homura (grumbling): I really have to learn the shadow clone jutsu as fast as possible; otherwise...I think I will die one of these days.
Homura was tired.
Truly tired.
His self imposed mission to follow Moegi around wasn't exactly easy, he got spotted following a child several times by patrolling shinobi, so he had to change tactics.
Two warnings were two too many.
Homura knew that spying on people was more or less the norm in Konohagakure, since everyone is more or less being spied on or rather, there are patrolling ninja all day long to catch criminals and spy.
If you keep spying on someone for hours long, the chances of you getting arrested are not just exponential an inevitability.
Thus, those under cover usually only start to break their cover by spying on their target or targets when they were ready to ditch their cover.
Thus, Homura had to change tactic and make contact otherwise, things would get worse for him.
Desperate, he asked for C for help by formulating a plan that would work.
Which mainly involved Homura creating a new identity. Which seemed counterproductive to pretend to be someone that does not exist but if it was someone that only existed for a few hours a day, the chances of being caught were much smaller.
And even if he did, he could try to give whoever would come chasing him the slip, which fortunately did not occur.
But even the transformation jutsu was a problem for Homura... more or less.
Homura's attempts at the transformation jutsu were often met with mixed success. While he could change his appearance to a certain extent, even transform into an object, there was one glaring flaw that persisted if he turned himself into a human – his eyes. No matter how hard he tried, the color and shape remained consistent, a subtle but distinct signature of his true identity.
Homura (grumbling to himself): Why do the eyes always give me away?
It's not that Homura couldn't fix such a small issue, if he meditated and emptied his mind before attempting to transform, but if it were from the get-go...that was an issue that persisted.
His frustrations were compounded when he decided to play the role of a prince for the sake of C's unconventional plan. The plan involved Homura pretending to be a charming prince, promising to marry Moegi and whisk her away to his imaginary kingdom. It was a non-lethal strategy to gain Moegi's trust and collect the genetic material he needed for his research.
However, as much as he tried to exude charm and authenticity, his unchanging eyes betrayed the facade. To Homura's surprise, Moegi seemed blissfully unaware, her innocent trust in the prince overriding any suspicion.
Homura (thinking): How in the world did that even work?
C's plan involved spying on Moegi for an entire week, learning her routines, likes, and dislikes. It was an uncomfortable task for Homura, who found himself caught between the necessity of the mission and his personal discomfort with the situation.
Homura: I'm never doing that again. It was so cringy...( though I wish I was a prince after role playing so hard. My life is too hard compared to that of a fairy tail prince.)
Despite his reservations, the plan worked, and Moegi was none the wiser about the true identity of her princely companion. The success, however, left Homura grappling with conflicting emotions.
Instead of a straightforward approach, he opted to play the heroic prince. He staged several accidental meetings, pretending to save her from harm. They played together, creating a facade of friendship while Homura carried out his secret agenda. Deep down, guilt gnawed at him for manipulating a child in such a way.
Especially of all the lies he had to spout.
How his kingdom was in danger, and so on...so on. By the end of it he was not only a prince but somewhat of an interdimensional alien as well...which was somewhat true, if you squint Homura's roots further to Kaguya and the Ootsutsuki clan.
Homura was truly astounded that such a small child believed his nonsense. Children in this world are usually very mature and not gullible.
That's why they are able to start working at a very young age, they have a reality check almost as soon as they come to understand how things worked.
But for Homura, as someone who grew up as an orphan that was more or less his perspective on things and the perspective of the children he grew up with. That feeling remained even after entering the academy because even academy students are somewhat versed in the inner workings of the world at large.
However, Moegi had come from a normal household. She had been allowed to dream far more than Homura who had to think of a future for himself from a very young age. If Homura had failed his entrance exam, he would have to choose a profession to learn before he was old enough to even be 10 years old. There was always a weight on his shoulders of having to find his path.
Thus, he found it strange that the little girl was able to believe such barrage of tall tales that Homura spewed non-stop, every time he was questioned or holes in his story started to pile up.
He didn't really know what princes in this world were like so he mixed in with the princes of fairy tales he remembered...but that came with its own set of problems.
Homura (grinning sarcastically): Great, now I've promised to marry a five-year-old.
While the promise was a mere formality and meant to ensure Moegi's cooperation, Homura couldn't shake the irony of pledging eternal love to a child. He had envisioned a life as an eternal bachelor, free to experience love without the constraints of commitment. Now, as a ninja, he found himself entangled in a web of deception and unexpected engagements.
Homura (sighing): Just another day in the life of a shinobi, I guess...How is Naruto able to pretend to be someone else so easily.
As Homura kept thinking about his troublesome and strange life during the past month, he was still moving his hands swiftly and rather carefully. Patching his self inflicted wound.
Homura (muttering to himself): This should do it. Can't risk any mistakes.
He then reached for a vial filled with a dark, thick liquid – his own blood. The needle pierced his skin, and he injected the blood directly into his veins. He waited for a moment, staring at his arm intently, but there was no immediate reaction.
Homura: (sighs) Come on, show me something...(This isn't a madara situation where I grow an extra head or a Danzo situation where trees will just pop out.)... It's a bit disappointing.
As he waited, his mind wandered back to the past month, once again. A month spent in an intense stakeout to gather genetic material. Homura had learned her every routine, exploited her trust, and collected valuable samples without her knowledge.
Homura (contemplating): What have I become? But I need this, and I won't let emotions get in the way. When did I get so emotional....and poor?
As he looked at his room he realized how empty it now was. It usually was full of junk and parts that he assembled into contraptions with several degrees of effectives.
Such as ventilators and other machines he made for training.
But to fund his covert operation, he sold off various possessions, using the resources to obtain more genetic materials – saliva, hair strands, anything he could gather to unravel the mysteries of Moegi's potential Wood Release.
Homura (determined): The others with Wood Release are too powerful. Moegi's the key, and no one suspects what lies within her. This is a treasure chest, and I'm going to unlock it.
With a resolve bordering on obsession, Homura continued his experiments, driven by a desire to unlock the secrets of the rare and powerful Wood Release.
In the dim glow of the bunker, Homura stared at the small vial of Moegi's blood, willing it to reveal its secrets. He couldn't afford to waste any time, knowing that every passing moment could be crucial in unraveling the mysteries of Wood Release.
Homura (whispering to himself): Come on, show me something. Anything.
As the seconds ticked by, he felt a subtle shift in his body. A warmth spread from the injection site, and a tingling sensation coursed through his veins. It was a moment of anticipation and anxiety, his breath caught in his throat.
Homura: (wide-eyed) It's working...
The room seemed to close in around him as the effects intensified. The dead skin patch he had sewn onto himself reacted, a faint greenish glow emanating from the edges. It was a sign that the Wood Release genetic material was interacting with his own cells.
Homura (smirking): Finally, progress.
The sense of accomplishment was fleeting as Homura's mind raced with thoughts of the greater plan. He needed more, not just a superficial connection with Wood Release. He needed to tap into its true potential, and Moegi held the key.
Homura (muttering): The treasure chest is opening, but I must explore its depths.
His focus shifted to the neatly labeled containers in the bunker, each holding a different genetic sample from Moegi. Saliva, hair, tissue – a collection of her essence meticulously gathered over the past month.
Homura: (calculating) I've been thorough, but there's always room for more. I need to understand every nuance, every aspect of Wood Release within her...
C: Alert! Host is currently having an 3rd level infection and currently asleep.
Homura: Wha?!
As soon as Homura realized what was happening he woke up from the chair he was apparently sitting on.
Homura then looked at his hand and realized that he had indeed, a small rash.
Homura (sighing): This is nothing...though I better remove that dead skin and graph the parts around it near my chest when the number of new cells around it grow.
With that matter done, Homura soon left his bunker and fell asleep.
......
....
...
*The next day*
BEEP BEEP BEEP
An incessant series of beeps reverberated through the room, each one grating on the nerves like a persistent annoyance.
"Can this noise just... be quiet!" A burst of frustration culminated in a swift and decisive action.
Bam!!
The abrupt sound of impact resonated as the alarm clock's fate was sealed, now rendered useless by a frustrated outburst of Homura who unconsciously grabbed the alarm clock and threw it away.
The clock made its last sound as it became partly destroyed as collided against a wall.
"!!!!?..." The noise created by the clock breaking apart was enough to wake Homura from his half-asleep state.
And as he opened his eyes the realization of what happened made him jump out of bed and head towards the broken object.
"Oh no! No! No! This is not happening! It's broken... I'll need to buy a new one!!!" Homura almost started sobbing at the thought that he would have to buy it or make a new one but more pressing matters took him out of his stupor as he saw the needles on the clock "Wait a minute! I can't afford to waste time on this! It's almost 7!!! Darn it all!!!"
The reality of oversleeping and the shattered clock dawned on the situation, with a sense of impending urgency.
Frantically rummaging through the wardrobe, a collection of identical tracksuits emerged, some with less-than-pleasant odors.
Those were a set of suits he wore all throughout last year.
"I'm starting to feel like I'm turning into Naruto, in more ways than one. In this world, wearing the same outfit is normal." The thought process delved into the quirkiness of the world's conventions.
"Tracksuits are sold in bulk. Even Gai once wore a different set, and I barely recognized him. To be fair, I can never remember his face until I see it... once the clothes are off, he's practically a stranger." A chuckle accompanied the realization, shedding light on the humorous side of familiarity.
However, the urgency of the situation couldn't be ignored, as the morning's chaos pressed on.
"I can't let this distract me any longer! Let me quickly find something that's not too dirty..." The scrutiny of clothes for cleanliness revealed a temporary solution.
Swiftly assembling an outfit – black turtleneck and leggings with vivid red patterns under a white Japanese-style tunic, followed by fingerless blue gloves and sandals– the appearance was now complete.
With the tool pouch secured on the left leg and a short sword secured to his belt, the final touches were made.
Wrapping up the preparations, a visit to the bathroom followed, ensuring a clean and presentable appearance.
He tied up his long hair and went by the kitchen grabbing an apple before opening the living room window.
With a swift leap out of the window, the rooftop commute commenced, a journey of running and jumping toward the academy building.
"I have to hurry! Time is slipping away, and I can't afford to be late!" The determination to beat the clock fueled the energetic race.
The academy's bells rang in the background, a somber reminder of the diminishing time available.
"I've got to pick up the pace!" A surge of determination coursed through every step, pushing Homura to his limits.
As the minutes dwindled, Homura's speed seemed to defy even the wind itself as he boosted his speed by weaving chakra helped by a few hand seals.
"Who needs the Yellow Flash? I'm the god of speed, after all!" he yelled inside his head as he moved around as fast as he could to then jump over the closed gates of the academy.
As he landed he was slightly tired but immediately pressed forward and entered the building.
Yet, despite the fervent efforts, the destination remained elusive. Caught in the act of attempting to sneak in, the battle against tardiness ended in a rather undignified defeat.
"You're late." Said Umino Iruka to Homura as he was about to open the door to the classroom.
Homura pretended to laugh and said "I guess so," replied Homura.
"You should ask to be forgiven instead of making witty comments! " yelled Iruka.
"S-sorry, sensei....(This is so embarrassing) " Homura replied as his thoughts betrayed the apology he had just given.
" *Sigh* You've been late for class for almost all of last month. Here I was thinking that you had grown but to go back to your former ways is simply unacceptable. Do you know what ninja rule you have to remember for this current situation?" asked Iruka
"...A Shinobi must not be discovered while... sneaking around?" said Homura having no idea what to answer.
But his stupidity was reward with Iruka's notepad to his skull.
"Argh!!!" Yelled Homura in quite a lot of pain.
That notepad was shaper than it looked.
"Wrong! A ninja must be responsible towards their duties! Now go to your seat." Said Iruka in a commanding tone.
In shinobi society, your superior might as well be your parent or king, due to how much power they have power they have over you. Ranks are meant to be respected, especially if you are low ranked.
"Tch! Yeah, whatever...(Not going to miss this abuse.) "before seating in a seat at the back of the classroom.
The last semester at the academy did not start well for Homura but he felt he couldn't be worse since it was almost over.
Chapter end.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone