The Secret Technique Inheritance

Why was this happening?

Standing before the Memorial Stone, Shiraishi Yoshijo couldn't help wondering. He'd only meant to go out for a walk, but somehow he'd ended up here.

Shiraishi Yoshijo sighed softly. His eyes quickly found several familiar names carved into the Memorial Stone.

"I'm starting at the Ninja Academy tomorrow. If you were still alive, you'd probably be happy, wouldn't you? Everything's fine at home, except there are fewer of us now. Uncle Eizawa's become a drunk over the past two years. Sometimes I don't see him for days. If he gets drunk and dies somewhere outside, I probably won't even know."

After rambling on for a while, Shiraishi Yoshijo fell silent.

How had things ended up like this?

When he learned he'd been reincarnated into the Naruto world, Shiraishi Yoshijo had thought he'd soon be able to punch the Third Hokage and kick Obito's ass. He'd even be able to stand face-to-face with Uchiha Madara and spit at him.

"Do you want to dance, too?"

"No, no, I just want to dig up your family's graves."

He'd already had the whole script planned out. What he'd never expected was that he'd been born too early.

It was now Year 15 of Konoha. Shiraishi Yoshijo was six years old.

Sarutobi Hiruzen had been Hokage for only two years. As for Obito Uchiha, well, his father probably wasn't even born yet.

Uchiha Madara, meanwhile, was definitely still alive. Shiraishi Yoshijo didn't know if he'd awakened the Rinnegan yet.

But that was all beside the point. The most important thing was that Shiraishi Yoshijo had discovered there was something very wrong with his background.

The Shide Clan?

Could someone tell him what kind of weird clan that was? Shiraishi Yoshijo racked his brains, but couldn't think of any such ninja clan in Konoha.

When he'd just been born, he'd secretly wondered if his clan was connected to the Akimichi Clan. After all, in the memories he knew, the Akimichi were the only ones associated with butterflies.

But after a while, he realized he'd been overthinking it. The Akimichi Clan's connection to butterflies was their Butterfly Mode Secret Technique. His own clan, on the other hand...

Well, they were just a bunch of people who played with butterflies, just like the Aburame Clan played with bugs. As for the difference, maybe butterflies were prettier?

The Aburame Clan had at least secured a place among the Konoha 12 in the original story. His own clan, meanwhile...

Heh. A clan that couldn't even get a bit part was probably one of those legendary cannon-fodder clans.

Shiraishi Yoshijo's suspicions were soon confirmed. Before he'd even turned one, his grandfather—the man who loved poking him with his mustache—died on a mission, leaving behind nothing but a name on the Memorial Stone.

With his grandfather's death, the Shide Clan went completely berserk.

Clan members began disappearing in droves. Then came the First Shinobi World War. Only a handful of the clan survived the battlefield, and thankfully, his parents were among them.

He'd thought the Shide Clan had finally weathered its calamities and that things would go smoothly from then on.

But his parents hadn't died on the battlefield. They'd died on an ordinary mission instead. Only one person had survived: his uncle, Shiraishi Eizawa.

They said Eizawa had fled in the middle of the fight, abandoning his parents and running home alone.

Shiraishi Yoshijo didn't believe that story, but Shiraishi Eizawa's attitude toward him—and the look in his eyes—had clearly changed.

In short, the relationship between them was hard to describe.

After standing before the Memorial Stone for another half hour, Shiraishi Yoshijo turned and headed home.

Standing in the empty courtyard, Shiraishi Yoshijo began practicing with shuriken. He was quite accurate, after all, he'd been practicing since he was three.

As for chakra training, Shiraishi Eizawa had only taught him last year. After a year of practice, Shiraishi Yoshijo was certain he wasn't any kind of genius. The amount of chakra in his body was pitifully small.

Taijutsu? Shiraishi Yoshijo couldn't put himself through that kind of hardship. He'd just see how things went.

He was having a good time throwing shuriken when the gate creaked. Shiraishi Eizawa came home reeking of alcohol.

Shiraishi Yoshijo glanced up at the midday sun and asked in confusion, "Something up?"

Whenever Shiraishi Eizawa came home, it was either in the middle of the night or at dawn. This was the first time in two years that Shiraishi Yoshijo had seen him at noon.

And he actually looked sober?

"Yeah. There's something I wanted to ask you about."

As he spoke, Shiraishi Eizawa walked over and sat down on the steps.

Shiraishi Yoshijo stared at him without a word. They looked at each other, then lapsed into an awkward silence.

At last, Shiraishi Eizawa spoke. "You're going to the Ninja Academy tomorrow?"

Shiraishi Yoshijo gave a noncommittal hum, then asked, "You actually care about that?"

Another uncomfortable silence followed.

Shiraishi Eizawa's head hurt. It wasn't from drinking too much; he genuinely felt a headache coming on.

After that mission, he'd had his ninja credentials revoked. Whether or not he was a ninja wasn't a big deal anymore.

The real problem was the child before him—the future of their clan.

But with their relationship deteriorating so quickly, some things were never going to go back to the way they'd been.

After thinking it over, Shiraishi Eizawa decided to keep it brief. "Someone came to see me today. He wants you to join the Anbu training class. The Ninja Academy doesn't teach much. You can learn a lot more in Anbu."

The Anbu training class?

Shiraishi Yoshijo's mouth twitched. Keeping his face expressionless, he asked, "Can I ask who came to see you?"

"Shimura Danzō."

"Who?"

"Shimura Danzō."

When the name came out of Shiraishi Eizawa's mouth again, Shiraishi Yoshijo covered his forehead helplessly, cursing up a storm in his head.

It wasn't so much that Danzō had set his sights on him as that he'd set his sights on the Shide Clan's Secret Technique.

Shiraishi Yoshijo felt as if his gallbladder had burst.

Through gritted teeth, he forced out four words. "You agreed to it?"

Seeing the bitter, resentful look on Shiraishi Yoshijo's face, Shiraishi Eizawa narrowed his eyes. "Not yet. Did Danzō do something to you?"

Shiraishi Yoshijo let out a sigh of relief and spoke slowly, each word deliberate. "I'm absolutely not going to any Anbu training class. I'm going to the Ninja Academy."

With that, he turned and left, afraid some other piece of bad news might come out of his own uncle's mouth.

Shiraishi Yoshijo stormed back to his room, leaving Shiraishi Eizawa sitting alone in the courtyard, lost in thought.

Time passed, drop by drop. Shiraishi Eizawa sat motionless on the steps until dusk.

When Shiraishi Yoshijo came out to make dinner, Eizawa finally stood and asked, "Do you want to learn the clan's Secret Technique?"

"If you're willing to teach me, I'll learn. If not, forget it."

Shiraishi Yoshijo meant it. He'd always felt the Shide Clan's Secret Technique was pretty useless.

No matter how pretty the butterflies were, someone could just breathe fire and kill a whole swarm. And a grown man playing with butterflies was so girly it was embarrassing.

He remembered a clan member named Shiraishi Mori. He was huge and burly, with a fierce-looking face. Whenever Shiraishi Yoshijo saw him playing with butterflies, the image just felt bizarre.

"Come with me."

Shiraishi Eizawa led him to the Shide Clan's compound. Standing in the middle of the main hall, he rapidly formed Hand Seals, moving so fast that Shiraishi Yoshijo could barely follow.

"Open!"

At Shiraishi Eizawa's low command, an opening slowly appeared in the floor.

A flight of steps descended beneath it, and gusts of cold air kept flowing up from below, giving the place a particularly eerie feel.

As the two of them entered the opening, lamps began to light one by one. The unease in Shiraishi Yoshijo's heart faded along with the darkness, and he began to look around.

At the bottom of the stairs was a passageway. Five wooden doors along its sides stood out.

Shiraishi Yoshijo tried pushing one open. The moment it swung aside, a foul smell rushed into his nose, making him cough repeatedly.

Inside were only a few bookshelves and a table and chairs.

Shiraishi Eizawa's voice came from outside. "This used to be where we kept Ninjutsu scrolls and notes on training. Your father gathered up everything that was in here."

Shiraishi Yoshijo opened another door. It had the same furnishings, and he couldn't be bothered to check the others.

His father must have gathered up everything inside. There was nothing else to be done. With the clan in decline, it wasn't safe to keep those things here anymore.

Beyond the passageway was a hall. In the middle stood a pentagonal altar.

For some reason, the moment Shiraishi Yoshijo saw the altar, the hair on his arms stood on end. He had a strong sense of impending danger.

"Stand on it."

Shiraishi Eizawa's voice came from behind him, calm but leaving no room for argument.

"Huh?"

At that moment, all sorts of horrifying images flashed through Shiraishi Yoshijo's mind. He swallowed hard and stammered, "I don't think this is a good idea. You're my real uncle, and I'm your real nephew. Our relationship isn't great, but it hasn't completely fallen apart, either. There are only the two of us left in the clan..."

Shiraishi Eizawa watched him with a faintly amused expression. Shiraishi Yoshijo turned and ran.

Shiraishi Eizawa stayed right where he was. Only when Shiraishi Yoshijo was almost out of the hall did he slowly form Hand Seals.

"Body Flicker Technique!"

He appeared right in front of Shiraishi Yoshijo, just as he was about to get out of the hall.

"Why are you running? Don't you want to learn the clan's Secret Technique?"

Shiraishi Yoshijo shook his head like a rattle. "Absolutely not! I think it's too early. Can't I wait until I'm older?"

"You weren't saying that just now."

Shiraishi Eizawa picked him up like a little chick and carried him to the altar without hurry. Ignoring Shiraishi Yoshijo's pitiful, panicked expression, he formed Hand Seals and slapped his palms against the floor. A clattering of chains came from beneath the altar.

A cross?

Shiraishi Yoshijo's eyes widened. What kind of insane Secret Technique inheritance was this? Was it really not a sacrifice?

Shiraishi Eizawa tied him to the cross. Watching Shiraishi Yoshijo struggle, a complicated expression crossed his face. "Don't be nervous. The inheritance of our clan's Secret Technique hurts a little. That's why I have to tie you down."

Standing below the altar, Shiraishi Eizawa stroked his chin and fell silent. The inheritance had always begun when clan members were ten, and five jonin had to set up a barrier to ensure everything went smoothly.

But now, only two people remained in the clan, and Shiraishi Yoshijo was a little too young. He also had too little chakra in his body.

There were risks, but Eizawa didn't have any more time to wait.

Shiraishi Yoshijo's strange reaction when he heard Danzō's name today had made Eizawa uneasy. There was nothing else he could do.

"Ninpō: Kuchiyose no Jutsu!"

Amid a cloud of smoke, five butterflies flew out and circled around Shiraishi Eizawa.

"So Lord Yoshijo has finally reached this point. I can't believe he's grown so big already."

One of the butterflies, colored blue and white, suddenly spoke. Shiraishi Yoshijo was startled.

He knew that Summoning Beasts could talk in the Naruto world, but knowing it and seeing it with his own eyes were two different things.

And why did this butterfly's voice sound so familiar?

Before Shiraishi Yoshijo could figure it out, another butterfly spoke—a red one, whose voice was more familiar than any other. It was his mother's voice.

"Lord Yoshijo isn't even ten yet. Isn't it a little too early?"

Shiraishi Yoshijo's mother had been dead for two years. Her name was already carved into the Memorial Stone. What was going on with this red butterfly? Its voice was exactly like his mother's.

Shiraishi Yoshijo turned a puzzled gaze toward his uncle, hoping he'd explain.

Shiraishi Eizawa ignored him completely. He took a small box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a larva that was wriggling nonstop.

He jumped onto the altar and instructed them, "Set up the barrier for me. I'll perform the inheritance."

The five butterflies began to circle the altar in flight, and a translucent blue barrier gradually covered it.

Shiraishi Eizawa took off Shiraishi Yoshijo's shirt, then held the box out as the larva crawled toward the opening.

When the larva was about to crawl out of the box, Shiraishi Eizawa brought it close to Shiraishi Yoshijo's chest and said softly, "Bear with it!"

By now, if Shiraishi Yoshijo still didn't understand what this so-called inheritance involved, he might as well bash his head in.

Obviously, they were going to make that bug enter his body, where it would live off him.

How was that any different from the Aburame Clan?

A burst of pain suddenly struck as the larva began biting into his chest. Shiraishi Yoshijo clenched his teeth, cold sweat pouring from his body.

The larva bit a bloody hole into Shiraishi Yoshijo's chest, then slowly crawled inside.

"Secret Technique: Twin Life Technique!"

Shiraishi Eizawa abruptly formed Hand Seals, then struck a palm against his chest.

The even more intense pain became too much for Shiraishi Yoshijo to bear.

"Ahhh! Shiraishi Eizawa, I—"

His eyes rolled back, and Shiraishi Yoshijo passed out from the pain.