Naruto: One Eye Tenseigan

Tomaru crouched low in the underbrush, his Tenseigan glowing faintly as it tracked chakra signatures across the mist-shrouded expanse of the Land of Waves. The soft hum of the great bridge construction echoed faintly in the distance, mixing with the crash of waves against the rocky shore, meticulously tracking every chakra signature within his range. He had been watching the movements of White Zetsu for hours, patiently analyzing their behavior and positions.His gaze focused sharply on an isolated island nearby, where a lone White Zetsu clone stood guard.

This one had minimal interaction with the others, stationed far enough from the main group that it was unlikely anyone would notice its absence immediately. Its isolation made it the perfect target for Tomaru's plans.

—

The Zetsu clone controlled by Tomaru emerged from the soil, its movements deliberate yet convincingly natural. The White Zetsu stationed on the isolated island turned abruptly, its pale, featureless face tilting in mild curiosity.

"What's wrong?" the island Zetsu asked, leaning nonchalantly against a nearby tree, its tone carrying a casual disinterest.

"This is boring," the controlled clone groaned, folding its arms in an exaggerated display of frustration. "There's absolutely nothing interesting to do out here."

The island Zetsu chuckled lightly, its voice reflecting a shared sentiment. "Tell me about it. I've been staring at the same trees, the same rocks, and the same patch of dirt for hours. Excitement? Not in this job description."

The puppet clone sighed theatrically. "And I thought babysitting the Jinchūriki was dull. At least over there, you can watch that blond idiot humiliate himself."

The island Zetsu's interest piqued, its pale eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Oh? Do tell. What's he done now? Tried to fight a mirror? Or another one of those ridiculous Sexy Jutsu routines?"

Tomaru's puppet shook its head, feigning disbelief. "Better than that. He managed to lose his right arm. Gone. Completely gone."

"Wait, wait, wait—hold on," the island Zetsu interrupted, its tone incredulous. "You're telling me the kid with the Nine-Tails sealed inside him—basically a walking cheat code—still manages to lose a limb? What's he got, butter for hands?"

"Exactly!" the puppet exclaimed, throwing its arms up. "It's like he's speedrunning how fast he can lose body parts."

The island Zetsu laughed, leaning forward. "There's no cure for that kind of stupidity."

The island Zetsu grinned, its tone dripping with sarcasm. "And this genius thinks he's Hokage material? Hokage?! I guess if the qualifications are loud, reckless, and missing a limb, he's already halfway there."

"Wait, it gets better," the puppet continued, its smirk widening. "He's trying to learn one-handed seals now."

The island Zetsu blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. "One-handed seals? Oh, that's rich. This is the same kid who painted the Hokage Monument and almost fell off. With two hands. And now he thinks he's some kind of sealing prodigy?"

The puppet shrugged, pretending to give it serious thought. "Maybe… if you lock him in a room for twenty years. No distractions, no mirror, no ramen—wait, scratch that. He'd probably die of withdrawal before he learned anything."

The island Zetsu shook its head, wiping an imaginary tear. "The Nine-Tails must be crying in there. 'This is the vessel you chose for me?'" It mimicked a high-pitched voice, "'I'm sealed in an idiot! Someone help me!'"

"Probably banging its head against the cage," the puppet agreed, chuckling. "Or whatever tailed beasts have instead of heads."

The island Zetsu sighed, still grinning. "You know, if we just left him alone, he'd probably self-destruct in a month. But no, we have to monitor him. Lucky us."

"By the way," the puppet asked, its tone suddenly casual, "why are you all the way out here? Weren't you supposed to be near the bridge?"

The island Zetsu shrugged lazily. "Eh, nothing's happening there. It's just humans yelling about lumber and fish. Thrilling stuff."

"Sounds like a party," the puppet replied, smirking. "If you're really that bored, though, you should keep your guard up. You never know who might sneak up on you."

The island Zetsu raised an eyebrow, but before it could respond, a cyan glow lit up the area. It froze, its body trembling as Tomaru stepped out of the shadows, his hand pressed firmly against its back.

The Puppet-Cursing Sphere sank into the island Zetsu's body, and its movements faltered as the technique took hold. The puppet standing nearby let out a playful chuckle, folding its arms.

"Careful what you wish for," it teased, grinning at the now-ensnared Zetsu. "Boring assignments just got a lot more exciting."

Several days had passed in the Land of Waves, Sasuke had mastered the tree-walking technique within two days, his relentless effort and natural aptitude allowing him to scale even the tallest trees with ease.

Mai, however, faced a different trajectory. Her persistent determination and tireless efforts had brought her only halfway up the tree. Each attempt illuminated the challenge she faced in balancing her exuberance with the precision required for chakra control. Though progress was slow, it was steady. Mai's frustration was palpable as she observed her teammates moving ahead, yet her resolve to master the technique remained unbroken.

Naruto, in contrast, had shifted his focus entirely. His priority was mastering one-handed seals, a technique far more intricate than tree walking. This endeavor tested not only his physical coordination but also his mental adaptability. Each attempt revealed the complexity of channeling and shaping chakra with one hand. Despite repeated failures, Naruto's determination remained unwavering. In a secluded clearing near the bridge, he worked tirelessly, oblivious to the broader developments around him. His pursuit of mastery embodied his unrelenting drive to overcome challenges, no matter the difficulty.

Tomaru, stationed deep within the forest, had spent the past few days systematically subduing the White Zetsu clones scattered throughout the region. His meticulous approach ensured complete control over their network, extending his influence by summoning six additional White Zetsu clones. Utilizing their unique physiological properties, he transformed them into spores, seamlessly integrating them into his body. These spores, dormant yet fully functional, provided Tomaru with a multifaceted support mechanism. They could act as sensory extensions, defensive augmentations, or autonomous clones, enhancing his adaptability in critical scenarios.

This strategic enhancement reflected Tomaru's calculated foresight. The spores, intricately connected to his chakra, allowed him to navigate complex contingencies with precision. A signal from one of the controlled White Zetsu disrupted the rhythm of his surveillance. The message confirmed that Haku had temporarily left Zabuza's side, creating a rare vulnerability. Recognizing the opportunity, Tomaru prepared to act, knowing that Zabuza's defenses were diminished in Haku's absence.

—

In a mist-shrouded clearing near the bridge, Naruto knelt, sweat trailing down his brow as he struggled to form a one-handed seal. The tranquil surroundings contrasted sharply with the intensity of his efforts. His concentration wavered momentarily as a figure emerged from the mist—Haku, serene and composed, carrying an ethereal presence that caught Naruto off guard. For a brief moment, Naruto's thoughts wandered as he marveled at Haku's striking beauty, even silently comparing it to Sakura's, though unaware that Haku was, in fact, a boy.

Haku knelt gracefully nearby, observing Naruto's repeated attempts with a quiet focus. Occasionally, Haku demonstrated the technique, each motion fluid and precise, underscoring the depth of skill required for such mastery. Naruto's repeated failures highlighted the formidable complexity of the task, yet his determination remained steadfast. Despite the challenges, the interaction bore a strange camaraderie, as though fate had intertwined their paths for a brief but meaningful moment.

Naruto's repeated failures highlighted the formidable complexity of the technique. Yet, each misstep brought incremental progress as he began to understand the balance between chakra flow and seal formation. Despite the slow pace, Naruto's resolve remained firm. The clearing bore silent witness to his relentless pursuit of excellence, a testament to his determination to overcome his limitations.

—

In the dense forest, Tomaru moved toward his target. The controlled network of White Zetsu clones provided him with real-time intelligence, guiding his movements. His Tenseigan, a tool of unparalleled perception, illuminated the path to a secluded treehouse concealed. Through its penetrating vision, Tomaru discerned Zabuza's chakra signature with clarity, cutting through the layers of mist and concealment that surrounded it.

The treehouse was silent, its atmosphere heavy with tension as Tomaru entered. His appearance was shrouded in mystery, with a mask-like covering revealing only the glow of his Tenseigan. Unlike the Akatsuki's signature robes, Tomaru's attire was a plain black cloak, exuding an understated menace.

Inside, Zabuza lay motionless on the bed, feigning vulnerability. Beneath the bed, however, the real Zabuza crouched, prepared for an ambush. A clone, indistinguishable from the original, occupied the bed as bait. Yet, Tomaru's Tenseigan saw through the deception instantly.

"A clone," Tomaru murmured, his tone calm yet tinged with amusement. "Predictable."

The clone sprang to life, lunging at Tomaru with a kunai. With unerring precision, Tomaru intercepted the attack, his grip immobilizing the clone's wrist mid-strike. In a swift motion, he dispatched the clone, sending it crashing into the wall, where it dissolved into a cloud of mist.

"You're under the bed," Tomaru said evenly, his gaze fixed on Zabuza's true location. "Nothing escapes the Tenseigan."

Before Zabuza could react, Tomaru summoned a cyan sphere of concentrated energy to his palm. The orb glowed faintly, emitting a restrained hum of power. With a flick of his wrist, Tomaru directed the sphere downward. It pierced the wooden frame with precision, striking Zabuza directly.

The impact disrupted Zabuza's chakra network, leaving him immobilized. His resistance, though instinctual, was rendered futile against the calculated precision of Tomaru's attack. Crouching beside the incapacitated swordsman, Tomaru's voice was steady and resolute.

"You should have stayed hidden," he said, his tone devoid of emotion. "Now, you're mine."