After my exhilarating experience body-surfing for the first time in a lifetime (pathetically, I actually cried out of pure joy whilst in the waves caress), the run back was a chore. I didn't regret my actions in the slightest, but my now sopping clothes made the experience nearly unbearable.

Still, a return journey always felt faster than the journey out. The only other thing of note was that, as we approached the village, Karuishi gave us another quiz. He had us alter the pace at which we ran, and judged us on our ability to accurately run at specific speeds.

That was something we drilled extensively in the academy. The skill was important for two reasons: timing and energy conservation. Sometimes, both were at war with one another, so it was important to have a strong sense of how fast you were currently traveling.

Nonetheless, we finally reached the village once more, and, after checking in with the gate guards, were allowed to collapse back at the academy. We were treated to dinner, and, knowing we didn't have anything physical left for the day, I gorged myself on food. I activated high tide to replenish lost chakra, because it stood to reason that we would have our ninjutsu tests tomorrow, and I wanted my tank to be as close to full as it could be. But that would have to wait. Even though it was nearly ten P.M, our day wasn't over.

The Red Ogres, who had most likely tailed us throughout the conditioning portion, made themselves known. One by one, they whisked us away in a shunshin without warning, and we were taken to separate classrooms, dark but for the light of a single candle.

I felt a genjutsu creep over my senses before my leaden feet touched the ground.

"Your friend already deduced that you would face the genjutsu portion of the exam at this time," the man said, his voice coming out supernaturally guttural. "That gives you a significant advantage over your peers—the ones who hadn't been so fortunate as to hear, in any case. We were meant to take you by surprise, and judge you on your ability to detect the illusions we place on you."

"Gomen," I said insincerely, not dispelling but simply ignoring the technique he placed me in. "But Daigo's deduction was only logical. I would have made it too, just like I had with the specifics of the endurance test."

"Unfortunately, I can't know that with certainty," he said. "Which is why, if I can't take you unawares, I will be forced to make this portion more challenging for you."

My grin sharpened. "You can try."

He hummed, and I felt the vibration ring through my bones. "If you can touch me, I will consider you the victor in this challenge. However, with every instance that I touch you, you will lose twenty points out of one hundred. I may restore some if you impress me, and in the interest of fairness, I will not exceed the speeds you are capable of reaching. Understood?"

Steadily through the speech, his words began to ring and meld together, like piano keys with the foot pedal pressed. He wasn't trying to be subtle. Yet.

I recognized this technique. It was eclectic, and far more dangerous than it appeared. On the surface, it seemed to be geared towards disorientation, but its true purpose was to set up other genjutsu. Ones carried through a person's auditory receptors, which were powerful but hard to maintain for an extensive period of time. Some practitioners used instruments to activate the primary auditory cortex—this jutsu was one of several that circumvented the need.

Dispelling it would cause the techniques he followed up with to fail. But that wouldn't be useful to me, because he would realize what I'd done and try something else, something potentially unfamiliar. So I didn't. Though I put on a show of failing.

"So close," he said, as I expressed my displeasure. "I did say I would make this harder, didn't I?"

Here's a little tip. If a shinobi of any kind—especially a genjutsu practitioner—speaks to you unnecessarily in the midst of conflict, be suspicious. Case in point.

Many years ago, I realized that genjutsu weren't fragile constructs. They'd latch onto the parts of the brain they targeted and stuck there like hot gum on a sidewalk. Breaking them was hard.

But then I learned something else. Genjutsu, like all other jutsu, had hardcoded effects. And not only that, they had hardcoded targets. This particular one the Ogre used against me would always stick to my auditory cortex—that's the only way it would work. But if I made it think it was attached to my auditory cortex, when in reality it was attached to another part of my brain…well. Then it couldn't make me hear things. And followup genjutsu based on me hearing those things would subsequently fall apart as well.

It was a discovery I made after a great deal of trial and error. Actually, it was the reason Daigo and I had gotten close to begin with.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

Sometime during the third semester, Daigo had stopped me after school, asking to speak in private.

"My father has given me a test," he revealed, his face a mask of impassiveness. "He has cleared me to use genjutsu safely on others, and he has listed you as my objective. If I am able to successfully put you under a genjutsu, then I would pass. Would you please consider participating? I would be most grateful if you could assist me in this endeavor."

I quirked an eyebrow at his bluntness. It was characteristic of Daigo, but I couldn't help but be suspicious. I hadn't had much interaction with our class' fourth ranking student outside of sparring.

"Your father listed me?" I clarified. "Why?"

"He remembers your success at warding off his technique over a year ago," he revealed. "He wants a fair test against someone of my relative skill level and experience. I would consider it a personal favor if you complied. My father will be present to ensure your safety, and in return you would gain an uncommon insight into the art. One that I believe you will find most valuable."

He's right, I would find that incredibly valuable. Frankly, there was little in this world that scared me as much as the Uchiha, and I needed to devise a way to counter them without fail. The first step to doing so would be to gain a strong foundation in genjutsu, something that Daigo and his father could help me attain.

But still, it was strange. From my single encounter with him, Hirose senior came off as a mistrusting individual, who wouldn't want his son's weaknesses to be shared with a classmate. Yes, we were comrades, but at the end of the day, we were also in competition to receive a jonin sensei upon graduation. My gut told me there was more to it.

Aimless suspicion wasn't cause to let such a valuable opportunity slip through my fingers, however.

"Sure," I decided, disguising my enthusiasm at the prospect with nonchalance. "I suppose I could help you. When will this test take place?"

"Whenever you are free. My father isn't taking missions for the time being, so that he may better instruct me."

I nodded in acceptance. "I don't know what my availability will look like in the coming days, so if it is possible, I would like to do it now."

At this point, I had already developed my method for mass producing seals, but Gari still monopolized my time on the weekends with his neverending seal development projects.

"Excellent. Follow me to my house."

We didn't speak as Daigo led me through the streets, to a much wealthier district to the south which I knew of but rarely visited. The buildings were taller, wider and much more sprawling.

"You live amongst the clans?" I asked as we were forced to walk around the perimeter of one such walled compound. The insignia of the Shibito clan was painted on an archway above the main gate, which was open but guarded by one of their clan's shinobi.

"Yes," he answered shortly. "My father is favored by many."

I hummed as he led me to a three story stand-alone, with one of Iwagakure's traditional domed roofs. He opened the door without ceremony, and we changed into sandals kept by the door.

There's a pair my size. I somehow doubted Daigo brought many (any) friends home from school, so they were likely set out for me specifically.

"Tadaima," he called, leading me to a living room. I expected his family home to be dark and gloomy, but there were many more windows than I could normally expect to find in any home in Iwagakure, and there wasn't a single speck of dust that I could see.

Daigo's father rose out of his armchair, just as tall and imposing as he had been the last time we had met.

"Imai-san," he greeted. "From your presence, I assume you have agreed to help with our little test."

"Yes, sir. Though I must wonder, why me? Daigo-san told me it was because of our last meeting, but is that all there is to it?"

"There are several reasons," he revealed. "Yes, I wanted a fair test against someone his own age, who does not possess formal training against genjutsu—talented as he is for his age, Daigo would have no hope against anyone with significant proficiency. But also, you seem to instinctively use an uncommon form of genjutsu release, one that I wish for my son to have exposure to."

"Uncommon?" I wondered.

"Moderately. I would say one in every fifty shinobi use your method, though it is more popular amongst some groups."

I suppose I could be satisfied with that.

"For this test, I would like for Daigo to cast the Hell-Viewing technique, which is the same jutsu you experienced at my hand," the jonin continued. "Of course, it will likely be much more rudimentary coming from my son. Please do your best to dispel each attempt, and do not give him any information or hints. It will be up to him to dissect and overcome your technique."

Sounded easy enough. I am curious to see just how talented my slightly older classmate is.

If I hadn't been watching for it, I might have missed him flipping through hand seals. Unlike how they did it in the anime, where everyone held their hands level with their upper chest, he made them low, just over his thighs. Daigo normally kept his hands in that position with his fingers laced, occasionally twitching and worrying with his fingernails or the dull rings he wore. I thought he just had ADHD, but it was likely an image he had cultivated. Jeez, ninja were scary.

He wasn't nearly as slick as his father though, that was for sure. And he had it even worse, because I was expecting it this time around. By manipulating the velocity of my chakra as it circulated my canals, I kept his foreign chakra from taking hold in the first place.

After only a couple of moments, he grew visibly frustrated. He cast the jutsu again, not bothering to hide the signs this time, and I swept the invasive chakra away just as easily.

"Stop," his father called after another minute, and immediately Daigo let me push the rest of his chakra out without a fight. "Let's take a moment. Daigo, tell me what you've learned so far."

"Her chakra isn't normal," he said, trying to reign in his scowl. "It's as if it is actively pulling away from my jutsu. The anti-release techniques I know are useless."

"Imai-san is doing you a service," he remarked, to my pleasant surprise. "Explain what you mean by that, to her."

"The typical genjutsu release technique involves halting one's chakra. Most genjutsu rely on the natural flow of a person's chakra, so if the chakra is not moving, the genjutsu falls apart. To counter that, genjutsu users might alter the flow of their own jutsu's chakra, but that takes a great deal of skill and precise timing. It's the reason that the best genjutsu users are sensors, who can learn to detect the genjutsu release technique."

Or Uchiha, who merely needed to have eyes on their opponent to know exactly how their chakra was moving. Was that why their genjutsu were considered unbreakable? Not because they couldn't be broken, but because they actively made it almost impossible to do so?

"But Imai-san is doing the opposite. Instead of stopping her chakra, it seems as if she is making it go faster. My sensing skill isn't good enough, yet," Daigo admitted. "I can't match up my chakra to the speed of hers. It's completely different from anything we've tried before—I need practice in order to overcome it."

Hirose senior seemed to take sympathy on his son. "Perhaps I expected too much from you too early," he admitted. "I wasn't aware Imai-san was capable of this as well. We didn't actually get to the part that I intended to be your test." He turned back to me. "I wanted to know if he was able to resist the part of your technique that you displayed against me. Would you be willing to allow his illusion to take root, before attempting to cancel it?"

"That is no problem," I said. This was already incredibly illuminating, and I appreciated Hirose senior's desire to actually let me learn from this process.

It was far more than I was expecting. Maybe he wasn't as bad as he seemed during our first interaction. I did admittedly act a little bit like a cocky brat—personally, as an adult, I wouldn't have actually done something to put me in my place, but the thought would have at least crossed my mind. Iwagakure shinobi, I found, generally didn't view academy kids as true kids, despite their mental immaturity. As soon as you declared your desire to become a ninja, you were a future comrade, which bore certain expectations for better or worse.

I snapped to attention as Daigo formed his seals once more, and this time, I allowed his chakra latch onto mine. It was similar to my experience with his father's jutsu, but his chakra was more sluggish, less malleable. And it offered far less resistance as I began to firmly guide it towards the nearest tenketsu.

"I've lost my connection to the technique," he announced before I succeeded. "My chakra isn't where it's supposed to be."

"How can you tell?" His father asked.

"Because when I try to influence the occipital lobe, my chakra is unable to locate it."

"Excellent," the elder Hirose praised, turning to me. "The occipital lobe is the segment of your brain that houses the visual cortex. Which, as the name implies, processes the information given to us by our eyes. Most genjutsu stimulate the occipital lobe in order to cause hallucinations, but, to an extent, a proficient caster is able to feel what their chakra is interacting with."

"So you'll know when someone breaks free from your genjutsu," I surmised.

"Correct. It is a simple matter for us sensors to be attentive and mindful of our chakra during the execution of the technique. Of course, in the heat of battle, that may be easier said than done. Additionally, if the genjutsu targets multiple people, it will be easier to miss if one of them has broken free of it."

I nodded in understanding.

"Is it possible for me to redirect the chakra to another part of the brain?" I wondered. "One that can't interpret the signals that the foreign chakra is sending? Maybe that way I could fool someone else into thinking I'm under a genjutsu, when really it's not affecting me."

"Impressive deduction," he praised, and I was both happy at the acknowledgement and a bit disappointed that I hadn't come up with something original. "Yes, that is possible. However, it is difficult in practice. You'd first have to experiment a great deal with a willing genjutsu adept. With their help, you'd next have to find a part of the brain to direct the chakra to, one that is both close to the intended target and similar in feel. As my son has demonstrated, directing the user's chakra too far from its intended target will lead them to recognize your deception. Furthermore, once a genjutsu is off target, you will, obviously, be unable to experience the hallucinations or other sensations it causes. So your actions following your successful counter may betray your intentions. It may be more effective to let the illusion take root, before switching its target at the most opportune time."

"I'm ready to try again," Daigo said with thinly veiled impatience. His father shot him a look, and he quickly mumbled, "sorry."

His next attempt was different. He was more cautious with his chakra, and was able to dodge one of my currents by crossing into a different canal than the one I was manipulating to eject his chakra. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't limited to manipulating one stream of chakra at a time.

"This is infuriating," he said dully after his fifth attempt.

"Do you admit defeat, Daigo?"

"Yes."

His father hummed as I allowed myself a small grin of satisfaction. "It is a difficult hurdle to clear. I had much difficulty with opponents that utilized this technique; it's only natural that you do as well."

"How are you able to counter it?" I asked, realizing as the words left my mouth that it was a bit of an improper question. Ninja were justifiably touchy when it came to people asking about their techniques.

Thankfully, Hirose senior didn't seem to take offense.

"It depends on the person, the technique I'm using and the environment. There is no simple solution; it comes down to how precise you are with your chakra, and how well you can adapt. Perhaps, as a show of gratitude, I can demonstrate."

"That would be much appreciated," I began to say, but my vision suddenly warped mid-sentence. My heart was bereft of any unnatural fear or pain, so I quickly turned my attention towards the canals in my head.

I found the chakra tendril toying with my brain, and I immediately set to work flushing it away, but it bobbed and weaved through every pulse that I sent. Nevertheless, I began to make progress, sweeping it nanometer by nanometer to the tenketsu on the back of my neck.

Then, it split, and both segments quickly ducked behind the pulse that had almost been effective a moment before. In a split-second, they had retaken my visual cortex, and each one was twice as evasive as before.

Soon, he canceled the technique.

"As you can see, you still have a long way to go," he said as I panted lightly. I was so absorbed in my task, I hadn't realized I wasn't halting my chakra flow out from my tenketsu before it could escape. And I was starting to get a bit of a headache, for reasons I'd discover later.

"In that demonstration, I targeted only your visual cortex. No genjutsu fit for anything beyond demonstrative purposes would affect such a narrow scope. It is standard for most genjutsu to influence parts of the nervous system along with the mind, in order to conjure sensations that complement the hallucination. Many also influence the temporal lobe, the auditory center of the brain, along with other various sections in the hopes of manipulating lesser senses, like the sense of balance, the sense of time, the sense of body orientation and many others. You should keep in mind that any genjutsu—regardless of complexity or effectiveness—that holds your attention in a critical moment should be considered a success for your opponent, and a defeat for you. Until you can quickly dispatch multiple probes while still maintaining cognisense of your surroundings, I would not consider you skilled at countering genjutsu."

Harsh, but almost definitely accurate.

"Perhaps we can continue to help each other then," I directed to my classmate, though my attention was still focussed on his father. "If we continue to practice with one another, we may both be able to grow much faster."

Daigo didn't answer. His face was carefully blank, but I did notice his gaze dart to his father.

"I can certainly see the merit in such an arrangement," the elder Hirose said. "I am an active-duty jonin, so when I am requested for missions, Daigo often finds himself without someone to practice with. But you must understand. If we agree to this, you may gain an insight into our family techniques, surpassing anyone else alive. I must say, a part of me is reluctant to allow this, despite the obvious benefits."

He was right, of course, and it would be extremely suspicious to push any further. But before I could utter verbal acknowledgment, Daigo chimed in.

"Please, Tou-san. I would like to continue training with her. I can feel myself progressing from this session alone. I know that if I can surpass Imai-san's technique, I can surpass anyone. Especially if she continues to advance as I do."

The impassioned request took me by surprise. That was more emotion than I had ever seen Daigo display, and if his father's widened eyes were any indication, it was unusual in private as well.

"For what it's worth, I swear not to reveal the secrets of your technique with anyone else," I chimed in.

Hirose senior smiled wryly. "You'll forgive me if I don't accept the word of a ninja in training." That was fair. "If we are to do this, I need assurances. I will draft a legal contract, so that if you break your word, you will face consequences from Iwa herself. Is that acceptable?"

"If I can read the contract before signing it," I said.

"Naturally. I will also include in the contract another stipulation. By agreeing to this arrangement, you will commit to Daigo as he commits to you. If you, by chance, complete your technique before he learns how to counter it, you will continue to meet with him until he is successful, no matter how long it takes. And of course, that will work in reverse as well. If Daigo learns to reliably counter your technique before you are satisfied with it, he will continue to meet with you until you are."

In my mind, that was a no brainer. I couldn't be satisfied with my technique's effectiveness until I tested it against someone who actually knew what they were doing, so I had a vested interest in getting Daigo up to snuff. Likewise, he couldn't be sure he could counter techniques like mine until my technique was actually completed.

"Finally, I would insist that you keep the nature of your technique a secret. Even if it is your own, and you are technically allowed to share it with whoever you wish, I ask that you do not do so without consulting us first. This was intended to become a part of Daigo's repertoire long before either of us met you, and by revealing its secrets to others, you would be putting him at a disadvantage."

That wasn't something he had any right to ask. However, I wasn't planning on sharing the technique with anyone anyway (apart from Kazuhiro, if he was interested) so I saw no reason to fight him on that front.

"That is acceptable," I declared.

"Very well. Then, I will go along with Daigo's wishes."

"Perhaps we can have these practices during our independent study," Daigo suggested. "I am excused from math for quite some time yet, and I know you are as well."

"That works," I said. I no longer had any projects to fill that time with, so this would be a good use. "As long as we can get Yoshiro-sensei on board."

"That should be no issue," Hirose senior stated. "If he has any hesitance, I will most likely be able to change his mind. I can be very convincing."

Of that, I had no doubt. Fucking genjutsu users.

"Excellent," I said. "In that case, I will take my leave. I'll see you in class."

This would be a pain in the ass, but it could be one of the most important skills I would ever cultivate. Genjutsu was a deus ex machina on par with fuinjutsu and Hashirama cells. No one was safe, be it man or giant chakra monster. If I couldn't counter them, then I might as well bare my throat to the first person who comes around with red eyes.

Thank god I proved myself to someone like Hirose Akikazu. Now, I might actually stand a chance.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

My technique has come a long way since then. I located the Ogre's chakra tendrils in my brain and nudged them just a little downwards. They clamped onto my middle temporal gyrus rather than the superior, and the noises cut off abruptly. However, my success was a double-edged sword, as pain lanced through my skull.

Foreign chakra could wreak havoc on the body, especially the brain. That was why medical jutsu required a transformation into medical chakra to be safely accepted into the body. Genjutsu weren't nearly so benign, and brain damage was a constant threat to those held under them for too long (see the future Yondaime Mizukage and his bloodline purges—biju chakra and Obito's skill were probably the only reasons he hadn't be rendered comatose). Pain-numbing functions were usually built into the jutsu themselves so that they could remain unnoticed, but when I moved it, that effect was disabled as well. For short-term purposes however, the technique's pros far outweighed its cons.

The Ogre in front of me vanished, as he was only an illusion. I maintained my glare at the figment's position, hearing the real body's movement behind me. Unbeknownst to my opponent, his movements weren't drowned out by the first layer of his genjutsu.

I was in a pickle. I didn't want to show my hand, because he was still an experienced opponent who could probably evade anything obvious. I wanted to lure him to me and counter. But since the other genjutsu techniques he was layering on me (five of them and counting) that built off the first were currently failing, he would keep making more, who's effects I wouldn't be able to see without putting the source technique back where it was supposed to go.

This was why I hated genjutsu battles. All this hypothetical cause and effect speculation made my head spin. It was a good thing Hirose-sensei (as I sometimes called him to his annoyance) had shown me how to act/lie/bluff so convincingly—without his teachings, tricking the Ogre would no doubt be impossible.

When I heard my adversary approach, I quickly swept the source back into place and lunged at an illusion that suddenly snapped into focus. My dodge came off as a fluke.

"So close," the voice said, and the ringing cut off as I hastily moved the source away once more.

Feigning panic, I hastily concocted a plan and ran to the corner of the classroom.

"Clever," the voice came, and knowing the word ushered in an illusion I couldn't see, I put the source back into place. Space distorted, and though I had reached the corner and stopped, it still looked and felt as if I was running, with my destination growing endlessly farther and farther away. I displaced the source, and saw the world as it truly was, before whirling around futilely as if I had given up my plan.

"Trying to limit the avenues from which I could approach you," he surmised. Though I made sure not to focus my eyes on him, I could see in the flickering candlelight that he was climbing the wall with chakra, poised to take his place on the ceiling above me. "Unfortunately, this room is my domain. Trying to find some advantage in it is useless. Unless you dispel my technique, you could run for miles and still never escape. That is the power of genjutsu."

He began to drop, his hand reaching out to take away a fifth of my grade. But just as he was about to brush the top of my head, I ducked, grabbing him by the wrist and slamming him to the ground. There was a mighty smack, and he grunted in shock as the wind was knocked out of him.

"I know the power of the art all too well," I said with amusement as he quickly leapt to his feet. I would give anything to see his expression right now; yes, he underestimated me, but if this was a real life or death conflict, that wouldn't matter. I would have won. Against a Red Ogre!

"That's why I've spent more time learning to counter them than just about anything else," I concluded.

"What…how…you saw through my jutsu?" he asked, thoroughly unbalanced.

"Yep."

"But it's still affecting you!" he exclaimed.

I arched an eyebrow and grinned as I steadily and efficiently forced out the genjutsu altogether.

"Is it?" I bluffed. "Was it ever?"

At his stony silence, I realized that this was genuinely alarming to him.

"Don't worry so much," I placated. "I created this technique, and other people aren't capable of using it to the extent I can. I promise, even the genjutsu master that helped me come up with it can't do it as well as me."

Hirose Akikazu could use the technique, but he didn't have the same level of internal awareness over his chakra as I did. That made it difficult to precisely guide his opponent's probe and coax it into latching onto the proper bits of gray matter. As such, his control over the foreign chakra sometimes slipped, which allowed the opposing caster to tell that their technique had failed. I knew it pained him to tell me that and ask for my help in fixing it—the fact he shouldered his pride was a testament to how highly he valued the skill.

"I'm under contract, so I couldn't tell you more if I wanted to," I said, which was true. "But if you're that stressed about it, look into alternate genjutsu dispersal techniques."

"Alternate techniques?" he repeated, off-balanced. "What alternate techniques?"

I frowned. "You know. How you can eject foreign chakra instead of destabilizing the technique and allowing it to disperse on its own."

"That…that's not possible," he said. "I can only imagine how much chakra control that would take. Are you saying you're capable of that?"

What the fuck was he talking about?

"It's not that rare," I said. "I was told one in every fifty shinobi use that method to disperse genjutsu."

"Imai-san, I am a Red Ogre and uncommonly proficient in genjutsu," he said. "In Iwagakure, I am ranked within the top five percent of practitioners. Not including forbidden techniques, I know or at least know of every genjutsu technique that the village has seen. Or so I thought. And I've never heard of what you've done. Certainly, one in fifty shinobi are not capable of it."

It took me a second for me to piece together that I wasn't being punked. It took another second for me to realize what that implied.

"Mother fucker," I cursed.

Once this exam was over, I would be having words with the Hirose family.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

AN: …I forgot yesterday was Tuesday. I didn't have work on Monday due to Labor Day and it threw me off.

If you want to reread the first interaction she had with the Hirose family, it was in chapter 20. Their conversation out of Kasaiki's earshot was relevant to the end of this chapter.

The concept of genjutsu was hard for me to conceptualize. Like many things in the Naruto power system, it doesn't really follow logic, so I'm having to come up with my own mechanics and stipulations. I'm trying not to make Kasaiki immune to the art, so I've given her a fallable technique that she has to actively use. She can be taken off guard, and subtle genjutsu can do damage before she notices them. Also, I tried to state it outright, but I'm not sure if it came across. The thing she did to Daigo in the flashback, speeding up her chakra to keep the genjutsu from taking root, only worked because he was a novice. A more experienced user can match their genjutsu to any person's chakra, even if they're consciously making their chakra move more slowly or more quickly.

I feel like ninety percent of stories tackle genjutsu one of two ways. Either the protag is a god who's amazing at casting/disrupting/being immune to genjutsu, or the art has basically no presence in the story. I understand why; the concept is slightly infuriating to write about. There are no established rules, and most of the examples we see in the source material are either laughable or ridiculously overpowered. It's hard to write a coherent story around that. In a high stakes situation, not being able to trust your eyes or ears can jeopardize everything.

However, I do think that genjutsu belongs in Naruto, so I'm choosing something between those two options. Expect to see more genjutsu users throughout the story. I'll figure out how to tackle the issues as they arise.

Also, if you missed that throw away line, Daigo's father was the mystery sensei I alluded to several chapters ago.