The Medicinal Field
The reason the Third Hokage and other Konoha elders valued the development of new ninjutsu wasn't just for the techniques themselves, but for the people who created them.
It's the same reason Konohamaru was once praised as a "genius." Not simply because he learned the Rasengan, but because he essentially reconstructed the Rasengan on his own.
Naruto only gave him the concept.
What did Naruto really teach Konohamaru? A demonstration here, a tip there. The rest, Konohamaru figured out by himself.
That's why he was called a genius—it wasn't about raw strength, but the ability to stand on his own foundation and build something from it.
But not everyone had those same conditions. For most, every difficulty encountered during the process of developing ninjutsu had to be solved alone. And through this trial-and-error, one discovered weaknesses and patched them, becoming stronger in the process.
That was what Hiruzen and the elders truly sought: vitality for the village. Konoha already had plenty of powerful jutsu. What they needed were people capable of innovation. With geniuses pushing forward, Konoha could remain strong. (Danzo's private ambitions, of course, were a different matter entirely.)
This was also why Sakumo had encouraged Shirō to develop his own techniques. Only by proving originality could Shirō earn greater recognition from the village.
While Shirō wouldn't lack guidance with Sakumo as his teacher, he lacked other necessities—money, and battles against opponents who could truly push him. And for shinobi, the best way to gain both was through missions. Recognition from the village meant more opportunities.
Though Shirō had already "restored" some forgotten secret skills with Projection Magic, it wasn't the same as creating them himself. He needed to show his own genius, not borrowed talent.
Sakumo, confident in his student, wasn't worried. After all, no one in Konoha dared to touch the White Fang's disciple.
That suited Shirō just fine. He needed time to recover anyway. Some quieter training tasks would help him clear his head.
He shook off his wandering thoughts, tucked away the three scrolls Sakumo had given him, and left the study.
---
The next morning, Shirō did something unusual—he slept in, only waking around eight or nine. His poor mental state was the main reason; habits forged over years didn't just vanish overnight.
Still, he had to admit: it felt pretty good to rest like that.
"Mmm, no, no, no," Shirō muttered, shaking off the dangerous temptation. He had finally escaped the clutches of the "seal of the blanket." To let himself be bound again would be disastrous.
With that, he washed up and prepared to leave. His parents were already out—his mother at the market, his father at work.
Rather than heading straight for training, Shirō remembered something else: the medicinal field.
Yesterday, after receiving gifts from Kushina and Sakumo, it suddenly hit him—he was technically a landowner. Maybe it was time to check whether the field was producing anything that could refill his empty wallet.
His last mission had barely ended, and yet his funds were already gone. Equipment, supplies, even training costs… everything drained his earnings too quickly. Developing new technology or techniques in the shinobi world was expensive—far beyond what his current means allowed.
But when he arrived at the field, his hopes collapsed instantly.
This wasn't a medicinal field. This was a weed patch.
"Who's in charge here?" Shirō asked sharply.
A middle-aged man emerged from the nearby house, bowing slightly. "Ninja-sama, I oversee this land. How may I assist you?"
"Why is this field full of weeds? The others I passed on the way weren't like this."
The caretaker looked embarrassed. "Well… these weeds require special treatment to clear. And—"
"This land used to be maintained by the village," Shirō cut him off. "Why wasn't it managed properly? Was this deliberate negligence?"
"No, sir. The truth is, the other clan-owned fields already supply enough medicine to meet Konoha's needs. These fields have been deprioritized. Usually, the harvest here is only collected once every six months."
He went inside and returned with a ledger. "Here are the records of the past half year."
"Half a year?" Shirō frowned, flipping through it.
"Yes. The order was that this field is now under your name, so the yield belongs to you."
Shirō examined the book, then realized with a headache that he couldn't understand a word. Ninja Academy certainly didn't cover bookkeeping. Unless one planned on clerical work, no shinobi wasted time on such things.
Normally, he could use Projection Magic to instantly analyze the contents, but his circuits were still strained from earlier battles. Using it now would be reckless.
So instead, he cleared his throat and said smoothly, "Do you have a copy? I'll take it back, look it over, and see if there's room for improvement."
"Yes, sir. Here's a spare. I'll copy the records again for myself."
"Good. You've worked hard."
With that, Shirō took the book and left. Of course, he had no intention of reading it. He'd dump this problem on his father instead.
---
His thoughts already drifting toward training, Shirō eventually arrived at his chosen spot: Shadow Rock.
It was his first time visiting, and he hadn't expected the scenery to be so breathtaking. Standing atop the cliff, it felt as if the whole world spread beneath him. The air was crisp, the light clean—perfect for meditation.
The feng shui here was excellent. For a moment, Shirō even imagined himself towering above all shinobi, standing higher than the so-called God of Shinobi.
Of course, it was just a fleeting fantasy.
Shaking it off, he settled into training. This time, he adjusted his schedule: first practice Wind Release, then meditate, and finally devote his Sage Time to deepening his understanding of Magecraft.
After all, he knew where his true strength lay. Ninjutsu was important—but magic was his greatest weapon.
Visit patreon.com/MexxyWave to get 30+ chapters