By the time Iruka woke up, the moon hung bright in a star-sparse sky.
The croaking of frogs echoed all around him, accompanied by the sound of flowing water in the distance and the whisper of the wind.
None of it disturbed the tranquility of the night.
Basking in this rare moment of peace, Iruka felt calmer than he had in a long time.
Even though half of his chakra had already recovered, he had no intention of getting up.
Instead, he folded his hands behind his head and stretched his body, which had grown stiff from remaining motionless for so long, continuing to lie on his back among the pebbles.
The fact that he could still think meant he was still alive, which was fortunate in itself.
This was a remote mountain forest far from the village, a place rarely visited by people and often frequented by wild animals.
The fact that he hadn’t been dragged off by some beast while unconscious was nothing short of incredibly good luck.
The clear moonlight fell across his somewhat dark complexion and illuminated his deep eyes as he gazed up at the night sky.
Memories of his past resurfaced in his mind.
The vows he had once made beneath another night sky had long since been shattered, and now, even the sky he looked upon was completely different.
Nothing was the same anymore.
Not the world, not the people—not even himself.
Although he had decided to forget the past and face this new life with an attitude completely different from the one he once had, memories that seemed etched into the depths of his soul would not disappear simply because he wished them to.
They always resurfaced in the quiet of the night.
That was why Iruka hated being alone at night.
Slap!
Iruka sprang to his feet in a single fluid motion, picked up the backpack beside him, and suddenly turned to cast a long look at the waterfall, which shimmered silver beneath the moonlight.
An almost imperceptible glint of coldness flashed through his dark eyes.
The corners of his lips curled upward into a faint, cruel smile.
Only after a moment did he start walking, his figure gradually disappearing into the endless darkness.
After Iruka left, the ground beside the waterfall suddenly began to writhe.
Before long, a massive pitcher plant sprouted from the earth.
With a sharp crack, it split open, revealing a face that was half black and half white.
“Did that guy notice us?”
“He’s more troublesome than expected.”
“We need to report this to Tobi.
He could introduce an unpredictable variable into the plan.”
“Yeah.”
It sounded as though someone were talking to themselves, yet two distinctly different voices could be heard.
The next moment, the pitcher plant closed again and slowly sank beneath the ground.
Once the figure had completely disappeared, the area finally returned to its former tranquility.
………………
Looks like those people in the upper ranks haven’t given up on me yet.
That old man, the Third Hokage—his promises really aren’t reliable.
Sigh…
I’d better be more careful from now on.
Konoha remained as lively as ever beneath the night sky—if anything, even more bustling than during the day.
Yet despite strolling leisurely through the streets, Iruka was far less relaxed inside than he appeared.
The moment he regained consciousness, he had sensed that someone was nearby.
He was not only a shinobi but also an esper whose soul had been developed almost to its utmost limit.
With Vector Control, he possessed an extraordinarily keen sensitivity to even the slightest disturbances in the force fields around him.
No movement in his surroundings could escape his notice.
As far as he was concerned, the only people who had reason to keep an eye on him were Konoha’s higher-ups.
He didn’t know whether the Third Hokage had tacitly approved their actions or whether they were acting on their own initiative.
But since the Third Hokage had not openly issued an order against him, there was no need for Iruka to resort to drastic measures in self-defense just yet.
I’ll just take things as they come.
Having finished considering the possibility of the higher-ups targeting him, Iruka turned his thoughts to the colorless energy that had repelled his blue chakra before he lost consciousness.
In fact, Iruka was eighty percent certain that the colorless energy was another type of chakra.
His reasoning was simple.
When his blue chakra had been completely exhausted, he should theoretically have lost consciousness immediately.
Yet when only that colorless chakra remained—entangled with the last traces of his blue chakra—he had instead regained a measure of awareness.
Everyone knew that chakra was the energy produced by perfectly combining and controlling the various energies within the human body.
It was essential for performing ninjutsu, genjutsu, and taijutsu, as well as one of the forces that sustained the body’s vital functions.
The fact that the colorless energy could help maintain consciousness suggested that it was beneficial to the human body.
In other words, it was another form of chakra.
Although he still didn’t know why the colorless chakra and blue chakra were fundamentally incompatible, Iruka was now completely certain that this mysterious colorless chakra was responsible for the resistance he encountered whenever he used his abilities.
Every time he activated an ability, resistance would inexplicably appear.
Moreover, the more frequently he used his abilities—and the greater their power—the stronger that resistance became.
So he could make a hypothesis.
Whenever he used an ability, colorless chakra was somehow generated.
Because the two types of chakra repelled each other, a portion of his far more abundant blue chakra was consumed in the process.
That was most likely the fundamental reason why he mysteriously lost some of his blue chakra every time he used his abilities.
Unfortunately, even knowing the cause didn’t give Iruka any immediate solution.
He still had no idea where the colorless chakra came from.
And according to his hypothesis, the more often he used his abilities, the greater the resistance he would encounter when using his blue chakra.
Meanwhile, for reasons he still didn’t understand, his blue chakra couldn’t grow stronger.
In other words, the colorless chakra would continue growing more powerful while his blue chakra remained unchanged.
Once the two reached an equal level, he would no longer be able to use his abilities at all.
The moment he tried, the two types of chakra would simply cancel each other out.
Without chakra, he wouldn’t be able to use a damn thing.
I need to find a way to separate the two types of chakra.
He didn’t yet know the nature of the colorless chakra, but it would surely prove useful to him somehow.
More importantly, simply preventing it from interfering with the flow of his blue chakra would greatly increase his strength.
After all, blue chakra could perfectly replace psychic force as the energy supporting his esper abilities.
Strengthening his blue chakra therefore meant strengthening his abilities as well.
If he could increase his chakra reserves enough to support the full power he had possessed in his previous life, then even the Hokage would be nothing more than a minor concern in comparison.
For now, what he needed to do was find a way to resolve the repulsion between the two types of chakra.
He would begin by separating them, ensuring at the very least that his blue chakra could flow without obstruction.
Then, he could gradually study the nature of the colorless chakra.
Perhaps, if he eventually learned to wield both types perfectly, he might even create an entirely new power—one that surpassed the pinnacle he had reached in his previous life.
With that thought, Iruka slowly exhaled.
Now that he had found a direction, all that remained was to act on it.
To be honest, he had originally expected it to take at least four or five days to discover what was interfering with his blue chakra.
Instead, the process had gone surprisingly smoothly.
In less than a single day, he had already identified the source of the problem.
So that means the rest of my leave…
is basically a vacation?
Iruka pulled one hand from his pocket and rested it behind his head.
His face was filled with genuine ease.
Unlike the relaxed expression he habitually wore in the past—a facade meant to conceal all his worries—this time, it truly reflected how he felt.
There wasn’t the slightest hint of pretense.
Finding the problem didn’t mean he had solved it, of course.
But as long as he had a direction, there was nothing that couldn’t eventually be resolved.
Without realizing it, Iruka had crossed several bustling streets.
When he finally came back to his senses, he found himself standing in front of Ichiraku Ramen.
He had originally intended to go inside for a bowl of ramen, but the meaningful look Teuchi (the ramen shop owner) had given him last time immediately made him reconsider.
Just as he turned to leave, however, a familiar voice—one that was already beginning to give him a headache—came from inside, stopping him in his tracks.
“Ayame-oneechan, another bowl!!!”