Seeing Hazuki clutching the puppet and sobbing uncontrollably, Kenji exchanged a helpless glance with Honoka. His friend quietly squeezed his hand and leaned closer to whisper.
"Don't worry. She's been through so much. This is exactly what she needs."
Honoka understood the situation completely. The puppet was being controlled by one of Kenji's mind clones, technically an extension of his consciousness. But right now, it was serving as the closest thing Hazuki had to her brother's presence.
Kenji wasn't entirely sure how to respond, so he just gently squeezed her hand back in acknowledgment. They sat there in silence, giving Hazuki the space to grieve properly.
It took a while before Hazuki finally calmed down enough to sit back. Her eyes were still red and puffy, tear tracks on her cheeks. She bowed deeply toward both of them.
"I'm sorry. I lost control for a moment. You shouldn't have had to see that."
"Don't apologize," Honoka said warmly. "There's no shame in grieving someone you love."
Kenji took the opportunity to explain the puppet's capabilities more thoroughly.
"This puppet was constructed using Enma's Sharingan and cells cultivated from tissue samples. It's controlled by one of my clones, which means it has autonomous thought and combat ability at the jonin level. I'll keep it stationed near you and Izumi for protection. If you ever need to reach me urgently, just speak to it directly. My consciousness is connected to the clone, so I'll sense it immediately."
"I understand," Hazuki said, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. "Thank you so much, Kenji. This means more than I can say."
She turned to look at the puppet, her expression softening.
"So you can think on your own? You're not just... moving automatically?"
The puppet nodded.
"Yes. I'm a clone of the original, which means I have my own awareness and can make independent decisions. Think of me as an extension of Kenji rather than a mindless construct."
Hazuki's eyes brightened with an idea.
"I'll go prepare a room right away. You'll be living here."
The puppet hesitated for just a moment. Then it nodded.
"Alright. I accept."
Just as Kenji was about to suggest they take their leave, a knock sounded at the door. A young voice called out cheerfully.
"Mom, I'm home!"
The door slid open and Izumi peeked inside. Seeing guests in the living room, she tilted her head curiously.
"We have visitors?"
When she stepped fully into the room and recognized who was sitting on the tatami mats, she immediately bowed formally.
"Good evening, Kenji! Good evening, Honoka!"
"Evening, Izumi," Kenji replied gently. His eyes took in her appearance, noting the dust on her clothes and the exhaustion in her posture. "Just got back from the training grounds?"
She nodded enthusiastically.
"You need to be careful about overtraining. You're still young. Your body is still developing. Pushing too hard now will only damage yourself in the long run."
He couldn't help but think of the so-called prodigies he'd read about in the original timeline. Kakashi and Itachi, both famous from childhood, both brilliant ninjas who'd burned bright and fast. But their bodies had paid the price. Kakashi became known more for his inconsistency than his genius. Itachi's body had collapsed from overwork and illness, dying far too young.
Meanwhile, people like Guy, Jiraiya, and even the "dead lasts" like Naruto and Obito had built their strength gradually over time. They'd paced themselves, let their bodies adapt, and eventually became pillars strong enough to support the entire shinobi world.
"I'll be careful," Izumi promised, though Kenji suspected she'd go right back to overtraining the next day.
Then her eyes landed on the puppet sitting beside her mother, and they widened with shock.
"Is that... Enma-ojisan?!"
Kenji opened his mouth to explain, but Hazuki spoke first.
"Izumi, this is my and Enma's younger brother. From now on, he'll be protecting us."
Kenji glanced at her but said nothing. He understood why Hazuki had phrased it that way. She didn't want Izumi to forget Enma, but she also couldn't bring herself to pretend the puppet was him. This compromise let the puppet serve as a living memorial while maintaining some emotional distance. And treating it as Enma's brother meant giving the construct, and by extension the Sharingan it carried, the respect they deserved.
"Oh..." Izumi's expression fell slightly, disappointment flickering across her young face. But she recovered quickly and bowed politely to the puppet. "Hello. I'm Izumi. Please take care of us."
"Hello, Izumi. It's nice to meet you," the puppet replied, its voice warm and steady. "My name is... Uchiha Homura."
The name came out smoothly, as if Kenji's clone had been considering options and settled on that one. It fit well with the Uchiha naming conventions while being distinct enough from Enma to avoid confusion.
Seeing that both Hazuki and Izumi had accepted the puppet's presence, Kenji stood and brushed off his clothes.
"It's getting late. We should head back."
"Please stay for dinner," Hazuki urged quickly. "I've already prepared most of it. It wouldn't be any trouble."
"Thank you, but we need to get going," Kenji declined politely. Then, after a brief pause, "Actually, could you tell me where Enma's grave is? I'd like to visit him."
Hazuki gave him directions to the cemetery plot. He committed them to memory, then walked with Honoka toward the door.
They said their goodbyes and stepped out into the evening air.
---
The walk back through the Uchiha district was quieter now. Most people had gone inside for dinner, leaving the streets largely empty. Moonlight filtered through gaps between buildings.
Kenji's mind drifted as they walked, turning over something that had been bothering him. In the original timeline, Izumi's father had died during the Nine-Tails attack on the village. That traumatic event had awakened her Sharingan. But now, in this altered version of events, her father had died earlier. The cause was different, the timing was different, and presumably the consequences would be different too.
He'd disrupted the storyline just by existing here. People who should have lived had died early. Others who should have died remained alive. Every choice he made, every action he took, sent ripples through the timeline that changed outcomes in ways he couldn't always predict.
He sighed quietly.
Maybe this was the fate of anyone who found themselves displaced in time and knowledge. You couldn't help but alter things just by being there. The question was whether those changes would make things better or worse.
"Something wrong?" Honoka asked, noticing his preoccupied expression.
"Just thinking," Kenji said. "About how one person's actions can change so much."
---
Training Ground Three was deserted when Kenji arrived the next morning.
He preferred it that way. What he was attempting required concentration, and having spectators would only be distracting. He'd chosen this particular training ground specifically because it saw less regular use than the others. He settled into a cross-legged position in the center of the clearing, closed his eyes, and began focusing his awareness outward.
For months now, he'd been training himself to sense natural energy. It had been frustratingly difficult at first. Natural energy wasn't like chakra, which existed within the body and could be manipulated through will and hand seals. Natural energy was everywhere, flowing through the world like an invisible current. The initial attempts had felt like trying to grab smoke with his bare hands. He could sense something was there, but connecting with it had proven nearly impossible. It was like looking at something through frosted glass, knowing it existed but unable to see it clearly or touch it directly. But after years of dedicated practice, that barrier had been gradually thinning. The frosted glass was becoming clearer. He could feel natural energy now with much greater clarity.
Today, he felt closer than ever to breaking through completely.
The training ground was silent except for wind rustling through leaves and the occasional bird call. In his awareness, he could feel the vast ocean of natural energy surrounding him. It moved constantly, shifting and flowing in patterns too complex to fully comprehend. Occasionally, wisps of it would brush against his body before drifting away again, as if testing him. He focused on maintaining perfect stillness, both physical and mental. Any distraction could break the connection he was building.
Minutes passed. Maybe an hour. Time became difficult to track when he was this deep in meditation. Then, without warning, a breeze passed through the clearing.
The natural energy suddenly became active, swirling around him. It was being drawn toward him, pulled by some force he'd finally managed to establish. The invisible current began pouring into his body, merging slowly with his chakra.
This is it!
His heart rate spiked, but he immediately clamped down on that emotion. He couldn't afford to lose focus now, not when he was so close. His mind sharpened, every ounce of his willpower dedicated to maintaining the connection. More and more natural energy gathered around him, the flow accelerating. The barrier separating him from it, that invisible wall that had frustrated him for so long, was growing thinner with each passing second.
Then, in a single moment, it shattered completely.
The sensation was overwhelming. It was like having cotton stuffed in his ears suddenly yanked out. His perception of natural energy became clear and vivid in a way it had never been before. And more than that, he instinctively understood how to manipulate it now. The knowledge came to him as naturally as breathing.
Physical energy, spiritual energy, and natural energy. Equal parts of each, mixed in perfect balance. 1:1:1 ratio.
The three forces merged within him, creating something far greater than the sum of its parts.
A wave of power unlike anything he'd ever experienced flooded through his body. This wasn't chakra. This was senjutsu chakra, and it was on an entirely different level. He could feel it activating every cell in his body, strengthening them, enhancing them beyond normal human limits.
His eyes snapped open.
Black markings had appeared across his face, similar to the sage markings Hashirama had displayed in historical records. The patterns were distinct but recognizable, proof that he'd achieved Sage Mode.
"So this is it," he murmured. "This is what Sage Mode feels like."
He clenched his fist, feeling the raw power coursing through his muscles. The difference was terrifying. He needed to test it.
He stood up, still maintaining Sage Mode through force of will, and drew back his fist. Then he punched the ground.
BOOM!
Earth exploded outward from the point of contact, the ground cratering beneath his strike. Dust and debris flew everywhere, obscuring his vision for several seconds. When it finally settled, Kenji found himself standing at the edge of a massive hole.
The crater was easily fifteen meters across and several meters deep. Its walls were smooth and compacted. It looked like a meteor had struck the training ground.
"Incredible..." He stared at the destruction he'd caused with a single punch.
Then he looked down at his left arm and frowned.
The puppet prosthetic that had replaced his original limb was showing signs of stress. Small cracks had appeared along its surface where the senjutsu chakra had flowed through it. The construct had been reinforced somewhat by the energy, but clearly not enough. It couldn't keep up with the enhanced durability and power his flesh-and-blood body had gained.
"That's going to be a problem."
His original plan had been to restore his missing limbs the way Obito had done, using White Zetsu tissue infused with Hashirama cells. That approach would have worked well enough. The artificial flesh would integrate with his body and provide functionality comparable to natural limbs. But now that he'd awakened Sage Mode, a new possibility had occurred to him.
Maybe he didn't need White Zetsu tissue at all. Maybe senjutsu itself could offer a better solution. If natural energy could heal old wounds and enhance living cells to superhuman levels, perhaps it could be used to regenerate lost tissue entirely. It was worth investigating at least. He'd need to do more research.
Then suddenly, he felt a storm of conflicting emotions rise in his chest.
The prospect of regrowing his real limbs was almost dizzying. Yet, a strange unease quickly followed. He'd adapted, more than adapted, he'd excelled. The prosthetic limbs he had built were lighter than bone in some configurations, stronger than steel when reinforced. He could detach and reattach them at will, turn his left arm into a dispersed cloud of magnetized blades, or anchor himself to the earth with magnetic fields no organic limb could match. Going back to ordinary flesh might mean abandoning advantages he'd bled to master.
Was restoring his original body truly progress… or would it be stepping backward?
He wasn't sure which version of himself he truly wanted.