Ishiki Kujo had long been toying with the idea of keeping a Tailed Beast in a compact form—and his inspiration came straight from the Fourth Hokage.
Minato had split Kurama's chakra into Yin and Yang halves, cutting the Nine-Tails' size in two.
So... couldn't Ishiki do the same with Matatabi?
He was already highly proficient in chakra-sealing techniques—especially ones that stored chakra in scrolls.
He'd spent ages studying how to seal Shadow Clones into scrolls. While the final breakthrough hadn't directly come from chakra sealing, the process had taught him much.
The reason the sealing method didn't apply directly was simple: Shadow Clones were made of chakra, but they were also solid entities.
Sealing them as chakra alone just caused the clone to disperse.
But treating them like physical objects? That worked.
He'd succeeded in a few tries.
"If only I had a proper teacher," Ishiki muttered.
The problem wasn't complexity—it was direction.
"What if a Tailed Beast could learn the Shadow Clone technique?" he mused.
"If it could create multiple clones, and I sealed those clones away, wouldn't that effectively weaken the main body?"
But would that actually let the beast stay small?
Humans couldn't do that, of course, but Bijū were pure chakra beings. If enough of their chakra was split off and stored elsewhere, the main body might indeed shrink.
It was worth a try.
He jotted down notes furiously.
First question: Could Matatabi even perform the Shadow Clone technique?
He glanced at the lazy cat sprawled on the couch, munching chips and watching anime on the TV.
Could those tiny paws even form hand seals?
Wait… was it just him, or had the cat grown bigger?
Highway Star gave him a subtle nod.
Yeah. The cat was growing. Chakra was regenerating.
"You handle it," Ishiki said.
"Got it," replied Highway Star.
They exchanged a silent glance like two conspirators, while Matatabi looked up from her snack with a confused "meow?"
Ishiki turned back to his scroll, chewing on the second big problem.
How long would a sealed Shadow Clone last? If it faded too quickly, the method wouldn't be sustainable.
He couldn't hang around forever, sealing chakra for Matatabi.
Could Matatabi self-manage its chakra instead?
Maybe she didn't need to use Shadow Clones at all. As long as she could separate and store portions of her chakra, that would work.
Then, in a crisis, she could unseal and recover that chakra herself.
That brought Ishiki's mind to Tsunade's Yin Seal.
A powerful jutsu—but sadly, he had no way to learn it.
Still, chakra didn't have to be sealed in scrolls. He could design chakra-conductive ninja tools—though that sounded expensive and hard to craft.
He scratched that idea out with a big X.
The Yin Seal-style approach remained his best bet.
He flipped through his notes, searching for anything useful.
Forget Tsunade—Kushina's Uzumaki sealing techniques were where his hope lay.
The room fell into a rhythmic silence: the flicker of anime on TV, the scratch of pen on parchment, the occasional purring giggle from Matatabi.
A man, a Stand, and a beast—coexisting in perfect harmony in the back of a red gem turtle mansion.
But Ishiki didn't stay long. He had more work to do.
He quickly returned to his daily rhythm—wake up, train, split off a Shadow Clone to handle the med-nin duties, then return to studying and experimenting in his tent.
He could feel himself improving every day.
And he liked that.
But rumors were swirling.
Recently, he'd heard whispers in camp—about the Uchiha Clan.
Apparently, all Uchiha stationed at the front lines were being recalled to the village. No one knew why.
Some speculated their clan compound was being relocated again.
Others said the Uchiha were under surveillance, ever since the Nine-Tails incident.
Ishiki couldn't help but scoff.
As if the Uchiha could just choose to withdraw from the battlefield.
This clearly came from the Konoha leadership.
But since no one admitted that… it meant something was being hidden.
Probably a smokescreen.
And he had a strong suspicion that Danzo was behind it—even if he couldn't prove it.
What amused him most was the contrast between battlefield Uchiha and village Uchiha.
On the front lines, Uchiha were desired.
If a team was missing a member and there was a Uchiha with a Sharingan available, people jumped at the chance to join.
Why? Because Sharingan users were powerhouses.
And more importantly, they always took care of their squadmates.
Uchiha in war were dependable comrades.
Uchiha in the village? Arrogant. Cold. Unlikable.
That disconnect said it all.
It wasn't the Uchiha that were the problem—it was the village's narrative about them.
Probably Danzo's doing. Again.
But then came the bigger news—straight from the Land of Lightning.
Kumogakure officially blamed the Uchiha Clan for Yugito Nii's disappearance.
They demanded Konoha hand over the guilty Uchiha, and return Yugito immediately.
For many frontline Konoha shinobi, this was cause for celebration.
If a Uchiha really took down Yugito… then hell, that Uchiha was a hero.
The Two-Tails jinchūriki had killed countless Konoha nin.
But right as tempers were flaring, another message came from Konoha HQ:
"We didn't kidnap her. The Uchiha's eyes were stolen.
Whoever took the Sharingan is the real culprit behind Yugito's abduction."
Ishiki just stood there blinking, brain full of question marks.
This contradiction… it felt like two Hokage were leading the village at the same time.
He didn't know whether to laugh or sigh.