After several attempts, Shirō realized that each analysis of Noble Phantasms took far too long. It wasn't that the Phantasms themselves were impossible to analyze—it was simply inefficient. Reluctantly, he set the matter aside for now.
Instead, he focused on studying magical theory. Of course, he occasionally Projected the Noble Phantasms of other Heroic Spirits to expand his perspective beyond Medea's. Different Heroic Spirits had different approaches to magecraft, and switching between them helped deepen his overall understanding. Still, his main reliance was Medea's knowledge and her Rule Breaker Noble Phantasm.
If possible, Shirō would have preferred to continue cultivating quietly, waiting until his foundation was fully established before exposing himself to the world. Unfortunately, Konoha's situation after the Second Shinobi War left little room for peace.
The village was still recovering, and missions were constant. Even if his team wasn't deployed as frequently as the regular shinobi forces, the Hokage continued to assign them tasks.
Just as now—Shirō had barely set aside a magic scroll when he received word to report. With a sigh, he stored the parchment away, straightened his gear, and made his way toward the Hokage Building.
---
Hokage's Office
The Third Hokage exhaled a thin stream of smoke, his eyes fixed on Nakamura and the rest of the squad. After a pause, he spoke:
"I've summoned you today because there is a mission of great importance that must be carried out discreetly. Unfortunately, the Anbu are overextended and cannot spare the manpower. After reviewing the options, I have decided you are best suited. Your strength already exceeds your current rank, making you effective while remaining inconspicuous."
Nakamura's brows furrowed. "Hokage-sama, what kind of mission requires such secrecy?"
Hiruzen's gaze shifted briefly toward Shirō before returning to the group. "This matter concerns one of our former allies. Years ago, when Uzushiogakure fell, we failed to rescue many of our comrades from the Uzumaki Clan. Most of them perished…"
Shirō's heart stirred. The Uzumaki Clan…? Hidden Eddy… Could this be about Karin's family?
"But recently," the Hokage continued, "our intelligence operatives reported the presence of an Uzumaki survivor near the border between the Land of Grass and the Land of Waterfalls. Your mission is to secure her return to Konoha. If anyone attempts to interfere…" Hiruzen's eyes narrowed, his voice turning cold, "…eliminate them without hesitation."
Her? Shirō's mind raced. That must mean Karin's mother…!
"Yes, Hokage-sama! We will not fail," Nakamura responded firmly.
Hiruzen handed over a sealed folder. "This is all the intel gathered by our scouts. Depart immediately."
The team bowed. "Understood."
---
As they left the office, Shikamaru glanced at Shirō, noticing his distracted expression. "What's wrong? Hokage-sama even looked at you just now."
Shirō forced a smile. "It's nothing. Just… unexpected. I didn't think our next mission would involve rescuing someone related to Big Sister Kushina's clan."
Truthfully, he was shocked. In the original timeline, Konoha had no information about Karin's mother at all. If they had, Karin's tragic fate would have been completely different. Even if the Third Hokage had chosen inaction, Minato—when he became Hokage—would never have ignored such intelligence. With his character, he would have sought her out, even if Kushina hadn't pressed the matter.
The Uzumaki weren't just Kushina's family—they were invaluable allies. Their sealing techniques alone were a treasure Konoha could not afford to waste. Even their bloodline, with its massive chakra reserves and vitality, was a natural asset for any Hidden Village.
Yet none of this occurred in the manga's history, which meant the timeline had already shifted.
Shirō felt a mix of relief and unease. Relief, because it proved the world wasn't bound entirely by the "original plot." His actions—and even his presence—were reshaping things. Unease, because one of his greatest advantages as a transmigrator, foreknowledge of the timeline, was slipping away.
Still, he knew his growth didn't come from clinging to a script. It came from his own effort—his Reinforcement, Projection, and the altered magecraft system he'd painstakingly cultivated. The shifting plot only confirmed it: he was making real changes.
But there was one complication—this target was connected to Kushina. If she were unrelated, the team could have killed her if circumstances forced it, still fulfilling the mission. But with the Uzumaki bond, failure was not an option.
Shirō explained this much to Shikamaru, who only laughed. "Relax. Do you not trust us? They're just minor border villages—we'll handle it. Let's get moving; we can work out the finer details en route."
---
The team moved swiftly, choosing stealth over speed. They avoided using Giant Bird No. 2, one of Shirō's puppet constructs. By now, too many shinobi had encountered the bird puppets, and their deployment always drew unwanted attention. For a mission demanding secrecy, being flashy was out of the question.
On the ground, their methods of running revealed their differences. Shikamaru and Nakamura used the traditional shinobi dash—leaning forward, arms streaming behind them. Shirō, however, stuck to the natural running style of his original world, with arms swinging rhythmically at his sides.
He had tried the "ninja run" before but found it awkward, throwing off his balance. Back in the Academy, he had even asked his sensei why shinobi ran like that. The answer: it allowed them to stop abruptly and use their momentum to throw weapons more powerfully in sudden encounters.
The training wasn't just about speed—it was conditioning, drilling body control until the movement became instinct. Of course, those who reached absolute mastery of taijutsu, like Might Guy and his team, could abandon such methods altogether.
Shirō, however, was comfortable running the way he always had. After all, balance mattered more than appearances.
And besides—he thought with a small smirk—style points wouldn't save anyone's life in battle.
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