I took a deep breath which did absolutely nothing to calm my heart rate. My fury at Bakuhatsu Gari—oh, that motherfucker would pay—was at war with fear as I stood outside one particular store that I would rather never enter again. Shame I didn't have an option.

Standing in the doorway was pointless, and I didn't have time for anything pointless right now. Steeling myself, I entered.

The last time I had seen Nyūdō, he had screamed at me for ten minutes straight. And that was scary. The dude was literally eight times my current size, so don't you dare even pretend you would take it any better. Still, I forced myself not to flinch as his eyes snapped up at my arrival, and he pursed his lips in agitation.

"I'm here to finish my seal," I said, trying to force the shakiness out of my voice.

"I can see that," he grunted. "Come here."

I did.

"Before we begin, I'm obligated to discuss a few changes that have been made to the structure of this operation, as a result of your incident," he said, emotionlessly. "To ensure the safety and consistency of our products, it has been decreed that buyers and sellers will now join in an exclusive partnership. Before, sellers could choose who they sell to, and shop around, so to speak, for the best prices. That will no longer be possible. Sellers will be partnered with an individual buyer, who will become intimately familiar with their seal matrix and can supposedly identify errors that will compromise the safety of the seal more effectively. The old index system worked perfectly well for decades with few incidents, but that no longer seems to matter."

He leaned forward over the counter. "As you can imagine, nobody is happy with this arrangement. Buyers now feel obligated to offer consistently higher prices to their sellers, no matter their supply level, to keep them appeased and prevent a future shortage born from dissatisfaction. And suppliers are unable to sell their wares for the optimal price. There are talks of arrangements between us licensed examiners about buying surplus from one another as needed, but solutions are overly complicated and seem doomed to failure."

My throat was very, very dry. I was making enemies out of people I'd never even met, and in Iwagakure, that could have grave consequences.

"As you might guess, you were assigned to me," he said. "That leaves me with several additional responsibilities. Due to your age and our warranted distrust, I have been given certain legal rights over you, within the capacity of our working partnership. Instead of being a subcontractor like the rest, you are, on everything but paper, my employee."

That might explain why he had been allowed to visit me in the hospital. I had been wondering about that.

"It also goes without saying that I will keep a very, very close eye on your production," he said. "You will not even touch a brush without my supervision."

Sorry, Nyūdō. I would abide by your rules, truly, but I don't have a choice.

"I have a new, written contract that I've come up with to cover my own ass," he said. "Which I'll insist you sign."

I did. It was extremely comprehensive, and I'd have to break over half the points.

"Good," he said shortly. "I'll see you for your next lessons, I suppose."

"Can we start now?" I asked, my voice cracking somewhat. The store wouldn't close for six more hours.

Nyūdō seemed taken aback. "You want to start now? You aren't even slightly afraid, after what happened to you?"

"I'm not afraid," I said. "I'm angry."

And I couldn't afford to wait a minute longer.

My employer looked up at his empty store, trying to find some excuse to say no. He was clearly dreading our inevitable meeting, and didn't want to be in my presence any longer than necessary.

"Please?" I asked, desperately.

"Fine," he groused, gesturing for me to come around the counter. There was a second seat crammed in the corner with wares piled on it, and it took him a second to find them a temporary home.

"We'll start with where you went wrong ," he said. "The neutralization matrix. To explain what that is and why it's necessary, I'll have to first teach you about seal classes and chakra resonance."

He took out yet another manual, kept under lock and key beneath his register. Opening it to the right page, he slid it to me as I climbed onto the high seat, legs dangling. I was too short to even reach the bar meant to act as a footrest.

"Chakra resonance is a term that describes a fundamental characteristic of seals and seal craft. As you now know, a seal can only be activated by the person whose chakra is present in the ink. In other words, the chakras must resonate with one another. The instance in which activation chakra, offered by the person utilizing the seal, is matched up against the chakra in the ink is called a check. A passed check means the seal will activate, while a failed check means the opposite. However, not all seals require a single check. Exploding tags are designated as Class One seals, along with storage seals despite their added complexity, because they only have one check. As a result, we can add a neutralization matrix."

"Which makes it so that other people can use my seals."

"Right. The neutralization matrix transforms the chakra of the person attempting to activate the seal, thereby molding its signature into one that resonates with the seal. Class two and above seals cannot work with a neutralization matrix, not that that would ever become relevant to you."

He slid the manual over to me.

"Work on the fuse first," he ordered. "I won't touch an exploding tag without one, so I wouldn't be able to test the effectiveness of the neutralization matrix anyway. But that's the easy part. A delay can be added just about anywhere in the seal, but Iwagakure, like most hidden villages, prefers you use an indindiary fuse, which burns away the tag as it activates. Even in the focal point of an explosion, parts of a tag can sometimes survive and be used to, for example, identify foul play, or determine where the tag was created."

"How can a person tell where a tag is created just by looking at a fragment?" I wondered. "Do other villages keep a log of every tag they come across?"

"I wouldn't be surprised, though I myself would consider that an effort in futility. However, it has been observed by those far more educated than me in the subject of fuinjutsu that tags created by those belonging to the same hidden village oftentimes hold similarities. Best theory is that it has to do with chakra signatures."

I thought about it for a moment, and realized that kinda made sense. I knew from my own research what made up a person's chakra signature—in part, at least. There was probably more to it than what I discovered, which was the elemental nature proportions bit. The percentage of each elemental chakra nature present in someone's system. It was well-known that a person's affinity was tied to geographical location, though as immigration steadily increased over the years, things got a little less clear-cut.

So it's possible to tell a lot about a person's chakra by looking at seals they created. That was…interesting. I would certainly have to keep that in mind.

I was getting off topic. Flipping open the manual, which appeared to contain information about additions, modifications and customizations, I found the fuse section. Most of it, understandably if it was standard, was dedicated to the incendiary fuse Nyūdō mentioned.

It was far simpler than most of the previous stages had been. It hinged on the Tora seal, which was tied to Katon chakra.

"The standard fuse length is four seconds," Nyūdō told me. "Though that can, of course, be modified."

A thought struck me. "Then how do people use them as traps? I know it's possible to rig them to go off remotely. How does that work?"

"That's not something you need to concern yourself over," he said sharply, and I nodded, abashed.

It took me less than an hour to crack the fuse.

"I think I've finished it."

Nyūdō, who had been passing the time leafing through a catalog, looked up sharply.

"What do you mean?"

"The incendiary seal. I finished it."

"That's impossible," he said, taking the paper I had been sketching on.

Compared to any other layman, Nyūdō was a veritable seal master. However, it was still clear to me that he didn't actually know fuinjutsu. It was like he knew how to use the internet, but couldn't actually develop a web page.

So, how was he able to check my work? It was something I had been a little curious about. I had only ever had him check over a seal stage once (which was, of course, the problem), and I couldn't stay to watch the process. I had training to do.

I got my answer when he pulled out an absolutely massive binder, separated with dividers that bore hiragana. He flipped to one section, scanning my page and the ones before him.

"What is that?" I asked.

"It contains a list of every volatile seal combination that Iwa has discovered," he said distractedly. "Which is constantly updated. It allows us to avoid the highest level of risk. If it doesn't appear in these pages, we can move on to testing. With caution." He looked up to glare at me. "You would know this if you actually followed my instructions."

"Gomenasai." I had already put that together, thanks.

It seemed as though my seal wouldn't blow up catastrophically. As far as Nyūdō could tell, at least. I had brought my ink and a brush, and I drew the fuse, which Nyūdō spent probably longer than necessary examining.

"The number one cause of fuinjutsu related injuries is bad handwriting," he said absently. "When you are crafting tens, hundreds of seals at a time, it is easy to make mistakes. Which is why examination will continue to be crucial, no matter how practiced you are."

When he was finally satisfied, Nyūdō placed a sign on the door and locked it.

"Without the neutralization matrix, you are the only one who can activate this," he said shortly. "Come with me."

He led me down into the basement, which was far bigger than I expected it to be. The ceiling was high, and the walls were strong. Still, the test site made me nervous. Why did people here think it was a good idea to set off explosives in basements? If things went wrong, it could bring everything down on top of them.

Then, a not great part of me decided it didn't care. I was still bitter at Nyūdō, even though I definitely deserved the tongue-lashing he gave me. And if the entirety of the Explosion Corp was buried in ruble, I would dance on their remains.

I was given protective equipment—a smock made out of tightly-woven fabric, an eye mask and gloves—and told to stand at the center of the room. Nyūdō didn't follow me. Then, with his blessing, I activated the seal, and watched with muted approval as it burned itself away. Barely any ash remained.

"Goodness," Nyūdō said, eyes wide. "It worked."

"Seems so. Could I have the guide for the neutralization matrix now?"

This part was supposedly significantly harder, and I could see why I would be for other people. It was far more abstract than all of the other stages, and there were more hidden variables at play.

However, they weren't hidden from me. For most people, this process was like baking a cake without having ever tasted one before. They needed to first get a solid idea of their own chakra signature, so that they knew what to convert the chakra of others into. But from all of my experimentation, I knew exactly what made my chakra identity distinct from everyone else's. That was half of the battle right there. Then, I simply had to worry about the conversion.

The guide, in this case, was of little help. It was meant for people with no knowledge on the subject to guess and check, and offered little to no information on what was going on behind the scenes. None of the other guides did either, but at least in those cases the "words" they offered helped give me some insight into the hows and whys. This time, I couldn't extrapolate. If I followed the guide, I would have to do it the hard way.

I didn't have time for that crap. So I sat and thought, brushing off Nyūdō's occasional comment as respectfully and vaguely as I could. He was paying me significantly more attention now, after my success with the fuse.

Converting all of the proportions into one another seemed complicated and finicky. It would probably take a considerable amount of tweaking. So, I thought a good first step would be to simply rid my chakra of everything that made it my chakra. Something I already knew how to do.

Modified Ushi. The first seal of the Mystic Palm technique, which transformed my distinct chakra into medical chakra free of identity. With that, I didn't have to take an existing painting and modify it into something completely different. I could just start with a blank canvas.

From there, I had to add every part of my chakra signature back into it, at the correct proportions. With my first several attempts, I utilized the elemental signs, Tora, Mi, Hitsuji, Tori and Inu to inject each element back into the medical chakra. But after a couple hours of work, I realized that just wasn't possible. The percentages were just too slight. Too finicky. Maybe one day I'd be able to figure out how to do it this way, but not now.

Besides, I was pretty sure that elemental proportions weren't the only characteristics of a person's chakra signature. If that was all there was to it, there wouldn't be nearly as much variation from person to person. But I didn't know what those hidden factors are, much less how to incorporate them into a seal.

There had to be a better solution, and I knew where to look for reference. The Gate of Pain acted as a template for my chakra identity, so I thought I might be able to find some clue in there.

I searched and searched, and after the store closed and I was forced to go home, I searched some more. It kept me up at night, as I delved into my gate to an extent that I hadn't approached since my accident.

Then as dawn approached, I reached a state of exhausted delirium, and simply sketched out the entire network of canals that ran through my gate.

There we go. There's my chakra identity. Then my brain must have shut down, because I blinked and it was past noon.

The paper was lying face down over my face, and, not remembering what was on it, I looked it over critically. It had been a joke, mixed with frustration, desperation and hopelessness. But then I thought about it for a moment.

The Gate of Pain's whole job was to maintain the body's chakra identity. That must entail converting chakra that doesn't belong into chakra that matches a person's identity.

I squinted at the drawing. It kinda looked like the kanji for…well, soul was an oversimplification, as it encompassed a whole lot more. Most seals resembled distorted kanji—I would assume, in this world, Kanji had been invented by ancient masters to give meaning to the ideas that powered their greatest works. When taking into account the proportions, this…this looked like it could be a seal of its own. And I knew from my medical texts already that, visually, no two people had a Gate of Pain that looked the same. Identical twins being the exception.

"Nyūdō-san," I asked as soon as I booked it to the shop.

"You're back?" he asked unnecessarily, seemingly put out at the realization.

"Yes. I have a question. If a person who has an identical twin creates a seal, can their twin activate it without a neutralization matrix?"

The man blinked. "I…yes. That's a known, and very rarely seen exception. Why…actually, how did you know that?"

"I think I've completed my neutralization matrix," I said, not answering his question.

"You didn't test it, did you?"

"Of course not. But I am very, very curious to see if it will work."

I passed him the pencil sketch of my completed design, and he took it with a frown.

"What is this?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? It's my neutralization matrix."

"I've never seen anything like this," he said, taking out his binder and flipping to the right section. "How the hell did you come up with it?"

I didn't really know how to answer that. In my excitement and exhaustion, I hadn't even thought to come up with some sort of excuse or explanation. I was getting dangerously close to violating Gari's terms.

"I just…I got some advice from someone who's done this already. He saw me sketching it at the park."

"What was his name," Nyūdō asked sternly.

"I…didn't ask."

"You didn't ask," he repeated as if I was the dumbest fucking person in the elemental nations. "You just took the advice of some stranger that claimed to know fuinjutsu, and you didn't even ask for their name?"

"It's not like I tested it," I protested.

"Thank kami for small miracles." He continued looking through the section titled "neutralization matrix" and gave a huff of displeasure. Then, he flipped to a miscellaneous section in the back.

"I can't find anything resembling that matrix in here," he announced after a good half hour of intent search.

"So it's safe?" I asked hopefully.

"No. There's no log of it causing issues, but there's no part of this that has been proven successful either. As far as I can tell, this is completely original." He gave me the paper back. "I'm not testing this. It's not worth the risk. Try again, and this time, actually follow the guide."

I wanted to argue, but I didn't. Per my arrangement with the Explosion Corp, I was supposed to be a failure at fuinjutsu anyway. Perhaps this was how I could sever my ties with Nyūdō. I wouldn't have time to make him anything anyway, so I would be dead weight on his roster, and make it appear as if he had more suppliers than he functionally did. It would be better for both of us (financially and mentally) to part ways.

Therefore, I nodded stiffly and walked out the door, resolving to only return with failure upon failure, until I could believably give up. He would hate me for the rest of my days for causing such a fuck up and then not even making up for it in any way shape or form, but that was fine. I would just advise Kazuhiro to find another shop, to avoid any sabotage.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

With that avenue exhausted, I returned to the Explosion Corps headquarters. I knew my fuse worked, and I knew my explosion seal worked, so I could at least combine them together with my neutralization matrix to form a cohesive final product. Once all three parts were correctly integrated, I could actually have someone else test the neutralization matrix.

And oh my kami was it fun. At least, now that I wasn't on the receiving end. I tied tag after tag onto kunai lying about for this express purpose (I had no accuracy training, but it didn't take a prodigy to throw one of the tools as far as I could, especially with chakra enhancement) and launched them at the far wall. And after the third small adjustment, everything was functional.

The giddiness almost overshadowed my abject rage, but that bubbled back to the surface as soon as I found my way to Gari's second office. He wasn't there, so I had to wait for someone to finally grace the basement.

"Is Ga—Bakuhatsu-sama here?" I asked the man, who looked more than a little surprised to see a little kid down here. I preempted his question by showing him my badge.

"Yes…he is," the man said slowly. "Why?"

"I finished my explosion tag," I said. "I think. I need someone to test the final product, specifically the neutralization matrix."

"An explosion seal," he repeated. "You created an explosion seal."

"Yes," I said with forced patience. "And I need it tested immediately. As ordered by Bakuhatsu-sama. I just need someone to do it."

"Bakuhatsu-sama is busy," he said, and I clenched my jaw. "But if that's all you need, I can spare five minutes."

I jerked in surprise. "You're willing to test it for me?"

"Sure. Not like it will take long."

"You're not worried about it backfiring?" I asked, expecting some hesitation after just dealing with Nyūdō.

"I am of the Bakuhatsu clan as well," he answered. "I'm immune to explosions."

What the actual fuck?

"Immune to explosions," I repeated. "How the hell can you be immune to explosions?"

"Bloodline," he said simply, though I imagined the true explanation was a hell of a lot more complicated than that. But when the B-word was uttered, conversation immediately shut down. It was an actual law, here in Iwagakure. So, no matter how much I wanted to press for details, I couldn't.

We went back into the testing hall, recently scorched by my efforts thus far.

"Tag," he said, taking one of his hands out of his pockets and holding it out to me. Instead of doing what he asked right away, I had to work to keep myself from throwing up.

This dude's hands were fucked up. It wasn't just scars or mangled fingers—that was something I was more than used to from my last life. Blood and even visible bone were old hat. But this…I had never seen anything like this.

The entire center of his hand was just gone. I could probably fit my entire child-sized arm through the hole where his palm once was, if not for the obstructions. Smooth wire—false tendons, I realized—extended deep into his forearm, through holes in the metal ring embedded into him. They must be the only reason he was able to use his fingers at all.

"Yes, it hurts to grab things," he said wearily, correctly predicting one of my many, many questions. "I can feel the wire move through me. I've gotten used to it."

"I'm sorry," I said reflexively. "I just…I'm surprised. What happened—sorry, you don't have to answer that."

"Stupidity, arrogance and youth," he answered succinctly. "Now, do you want my help or not?"

I gave him the tag, and I turned my head away as I watched his fingers jerkily close. I could all but feel the sensation he was no doubt experiencing.

All things considered, I was impressed by how quickly he tied the explosion tag to ninja wire, threading it through the loop as I had done minutes prior. He raised it up to his mouth and poked the tag with his tongue—I realized he must not have tenketsu in his hands to activate it with. Then, he sloppily flung the weapon away.

BOOM!

"Well, it works," he said simply.

"Thank you so much for your assistance," I said, feeling a thrill of satisfaction. But I couldn't be truly happy, not while I was here.

"No problem," he said, already turning to walk away.

"Could you please tell Bakuhatsu-sama I have finished the time delay and neutralization parts when you next see him, and that I'm working on power now?" I attempted.

"Sure." He left and I sighed. I had more work to do. But at least this time, I didn't need instruction. I already had ideas.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

Kazuhiro stood before the Monument to the Fallen, alongside a small crowd of others. A couple days ago, he had been told that his surgery was to be postponed for an extended period of time. He hadn't been sure what he felt about that at the time—he's spent months at this point coming to terms with his situation, and he kinda wanted to just get it over with. He was sick of living with this…thing looming over him.

Then he found out why. Kosuke, his teammate who had been slated to undergo his surgery first, had died minutes after the procedure's conclusion.

Now, he had to watch as another teammate—short-lived their association may be, but he and Kazuhiro had still grown close—became one with the mountain. Kobayashi-sama was doing the engraving, which was a great honor for Kosuke. It signified that the man's death was significant to the Jonin commander. Kazuhiro hoped that the man could see and appreciate that from his place in the pure land.

Only one person made a sound. A young girl, older than his own god-sister but not in the academy, sobbed openly throughout the proceedings. As the ceremony ended, he and several others formed a line to speak to her.

"I only knew your nii-san for a short time," Kazuhiro said. "We were slated to be teammates. But in the months we knew each other, I learned a lot about him. He was a good man, and he loved you so, so much. That was why he did what he did, despite the risks. It was to ensure you lived a good life."

"We had a good life," she whimpered, and Kazuhiro swallowed dryly. He could have told her about the upcoming war, and how that good life might not have lasted much longer. But that would be pointless to say.

"He wanted it to be perfect. That's how much he loved you."

He reached in his pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper he had prepared.

"This is my name and address. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to call on me. I'll do whatever I can."

Kazuhiro ducked his head and stepped to the side, allowing another well-wisher to say nearly the exact same thing. He looked back up at the monument, finding the names of his people from this far away, despite not being able to read them.

He hadn't been given the option to withdraw from the program, and he wouldn't have taken the offer if it was extended. When the time came, preferably after they figured out what killed Kosuke, he would go under the scalpel. Though not before Kenta—for some reason, their order had been switched.

"The world is changing too fast," he muttered. Kazuhiro needed to be ready, and more importantly, he needed his sister to be ready. Even after his hopefully successful surgery, he would only be a run-of-the-mill jonin. Kasaiki would be at the pinnacle. One of the strongest shinobi to ever grace Iwagakure with her presence. She would lead the village to glory—of that, he had absolutely no doubt.

His eyes focussed on the names of her parents.

"She'll make you proud." Then, he shook his head. "What am I saying? I know she already has."

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

AN: Here marks the end of this arc. I hope you enjoyed all of that sealing stuff—if you have any more questions, please let me know in the comments! I'll try to address them in text if a moment naturally appears in which I can do so.

Next week the interludes will begin. And after that, comes graduation! Yayy!