What interested Nara Kazuki most, naturally, were high-level sensory techniques—or the Byakugan.
But those techniques were notoriously difficult to obtain. And as for the Byakugan... if you weren't born with it, you could pretty much forget about ever getting it. Kazuki still intended to remain in Konoha, not defect and become a missing-nin, so chasing the Byakugan was a lost cause.
The only known Byakugan outside of the Hyūga Clan and the village was in the possession of Ao from Kirigakure. Unless Kazuki planned on sneaking into the Hidden Mist and killing him—which was absurd—there was no realistic path to acquiring it.
"Tch. So even within ANBU, you can't find a sensory technique on the level of Kagura Shingan. Makes sense, I guess—it's inherently tied to the Uzumaki bloodline." Kazuki shook his head. Of course, he'd already reviewed the list of jutsu available for redemption in the ANBU archives.
There were some sensory techniques, sure, but none of them could compare to the truly elite ones. Still, Kazuki wasn't so greedy. The ones available were workable.
All he had to do was redeem one, grind proficiency with it, unlock its upgrade potential, and who knows—maybe it could eventually rival top-tier techniques like Pain's Rain Tiger at Will Technique.
"Guess I'll go with this one," Kazuki muttered. He recalled a technique he'd seen before—simple name: Wind Breath Perception Technique. It required a considerable contribution score to redeem, but that sparked an idea.
"Wind Breath"—the name alone hinted at a Wind Release-based sensory technique. Which raised a question: why did he have to learn an existing jutsu at all? Maybe he could try a different path—develop his own sensory technique.
Now that idea got his blood moving.
At the core, sensory jutsu were all about locating and tracking targets. That made Kazuki think of something from his previous life—radar. If radar could work by bouncing signals off of objects and detecting the return, then couldn't he do something similar with chakra?
After all, Konoha actively encouraged the development of new jutsu. If he submitted a new technique to the village, its battlefield value could earn him a handsome reward.
Not that Kazuki was trying to get rich off one jutsu—but if it saved him contribution points and gave him a custom-built sensory tool, that was a win.
He decided to try.
"I remember radar worked by..." Kazuki scratched his head, trying to piece it together from old college memories.
He hadn't studied science, but like any guy living in a university dorm, he'd been through his fair share of post-lights-out debates in the dark. What started as talk about school crushes and campus gossip often spiraled into World War II, the Three Kingdoms era, and finally topics so sensitive they'd be censored online. Thanks to that, Kazuki had at least a broad understanding of military concepts.
Modern tech couldn't yet detect enemies with precision, but this wasn't the real world. This was the shinobi world—backed by chakra and jutsu. Here, maybe it was possible.
"I think the original radar was inspired by how bats navigate using echolocation…" Kazuki murmured, parting his lips experimentally before falling silent again. No good. He was human; he couldn't emit ultrasound. But thinking back to that Wind Breath technique gave him an idea.
He tried molding his chakra into Wind Release. As it gathered in his palm, he let it surge outward in a pulse, sweeping through the area like an invisible wave.
But it dissipated almost immediately.
Kazuki scratched his head again. Clearly, inventing a jutsu wasn't as simple as coming up with an idea.
Still, he wasn't discouraged. He knew the concept was solid. And besides, he needed a sensory technique. Being ambushed because you couldn't detect your enemy was very different from being ambushed and knowing it was coming.
He kept trying. Again and again, he pushed Wind-nature chakra outward. He managed to make it spread in all directions—but there was still no way to receive the returning information. No feedback. That was the real obstacle, and it was starting to frustrate him.
"Kazuki?" came a voice. Uncle Suzaku.
Kazuki blinked and opened the door. What was Suzaku doing here?
"Kazuki, the clan head sent word. Your treatment in the clan is being elevated. Also, this jutsu scroll was sent to you by the head himself." Nara Suzaku looked genuinely pleased, a rare smile softening his usually stern features.
Kazuki's face lit up. He'd earned this—he knew he had. He'd worked for it, shown results. In a clan like the Nara, with limited resources and many mouths to feed, recognition didn't come easy. Only by proving his value could he attract investment from the clan.
But when he looked down at the scroll, Kazuki's eyes widened. The clan head, Shikaku, had given him a sensory-type jutsu.
"…Uncle Suzaku, since when did we have sensory jutsu like this in the clan?" Kazuki eyed the scroll labeled Wind Breath Perception Technique, his expression hard to read.
He'd been just about to redeem this exact jutsu through ANBU. If he'd moved a little faster, he might have ended up with two copies and a wasted stomachache.
"Oh, we've always had it. But sensory jutsu require very specific talent to master, so not many in the clan use them," Suzaku replied matter-of-factly. The Nara Clan might not have been as massive as the Uchiha or Hyūga, but it had deep roots and rich traditions of its own. Naturally, there were hidden gems in its archives.
Kazuki sighed with a hint of awe. This was the true privilege of being born into a shinobi clan. For ordinary civilians, climbing to the top was a hellish task. Even Minato Namikaze, brilliant as he was, likely wouldn't have made it without Jiraiya's mentorship.
Of the future "Konoha 12," how many truly came from civilian backgrounds?
Lineage, bloodline—those things mattered more than most would admit. It was true in his old world. It was even truer here.
"Thank you, Uncle Suzaku. I was just trying to develop a sensory jutsu myself." Kazuki smiled earnestly, planning to practice right away. If he could use it successfully even once, he could start building proficiency. Mastery came with repetition.
Kazuki was optimistic.
Suzaku stared at him for a long moment, a complicated look in his eyes. It seemed he wanted to say something—but in the end, he just reached out and gently patted Kazuki's shoulder.