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Chapter 1: Jindai

Inside a modest sand-brick house on the outskirts of the Sand Village, a boy around ten years old with dark hair sat at a table, tinkering with an arm. Not a real arm, mind you, but a prosthetic one.

Behind him stood a female puppet, crafted with such precision that it could almost pass for a real person—its curves were that lifelike.

“Finally cracked the missile design,” the boy muttered, a hint of pride in his voice. “Took me forever, but if I hadn’t known about Pain’s Asura Path shooting missiles, I’d have thought it was just explosive tags. Fitting one into this arm… done! You can’t even tell it’s there. Perfect!”

He inspected the arm closely, a smug grin spreading across his face.

But then he sighed. “One missile’s not gonna cut it, though. I remember Sasuke had that ninja tool summoning jutsu—touch a seal on his arm, and boom, instant weapons. Gotta figure out how to learn that one someday and add it to my baby here. Then I’ll have unlimited firepower.”

The boy’s name was Jindai, a genin of the Sand Village.

But calling him a genin was generous. Jindai never attended the Sand Village’s ninja academy or passed any formal tests. His “rank” was thanks to his uncle pulling strings. Truth be told, Jindai had zero interest in being a ninja.

Oh, and his uncle? None other than the Third Kazekage, the leader of the Sand Village.

Jindai was part of the Kazekage’s clan and inherited the Magnet Release kekkei genkai. But he had no memories of his parents. They died on a mission when he was barely two years old.

After that, the Third Kazekage took him in—well, “took him in” is a stretch. “Neglected” would be more accurate. The Kazekage made sure someone dropped off food daily so Jindai wouldn’t starve, but that was about it.

Ever heard of feeding a two-year-old rock-hard flatbread? Jindai had.

Thankfully, kids in this world grow teeth fast, or he was sure he wouldn’t have survived. He still remembered nearly choking to death back then, only saved by gulping down water just in time.

Honestly, Jindai considered it a miracle he was still alive.

It wasn’t that the Third Kazekage was cruel—it was just that he was busy. Too busy to care for a kid. When Jindai turned three, his uncle stopped by, handed him three scrolls, and left. One scroll covered chakra refinement and basic ninjutsu like the Three Basic Techniques. Another detailed Magnet Release techniques. The last one was about puppetry.

No teacher, no guidance—just “figure it out.”

After that, Jindai rarely saw his uncle, maybe once a year if he was lucky. He became a recluse, barely leaving the house. When food was delivered, he’d wait until the delivery person left before grabbing it from the doorstep.

Why? Because Jindai was terrified. This world was dangerous. Everyone was cannon fodder waiting to die.

But Jindai was no slouch. Despite having no teacher, he taught himself how to refine chakra and mastered the Magnet Release and puppetry techniques from the scrolls. Thanks to knowledge he had from… well, somewhere outside this world, he developed his own unique take on puppetry.

Not to brag, but in the ninja world, Jindai was kind of a prodigy.

Still…

Even if you’re a genius with the Magnet Release kekkei genkai, what’s the point?

You’re just high-grade cannon fodder.

This world is all about connections and background.

The main characters are awesome, right? As part of the protagonist squad, they’re not supposed to die, are they?

Well, guess what—Neji, one of the Konoha 12, kicked the bucket for no good reason.

And later, when fights break out, it’s not just a scuffle. We’re talking meteor craters, flattened mountains, and even the moon getting sliced in half! How do you even compete in a world like that?

You can’t. Not even a little.

So, let the protagonists handle the fighting. They’ll save the world in the end anyway. Jindai’s plan? Lay low, grow stronger, stay alive, and live a chill life.

When Jindai was six, the Third Kazekage visited him once. He saw the puppets Jindai had crafted and couldn’t stop praising them, saying they were on par with the puppets made by Sasori, Sunagakure’s genius puppet stylist.

The Third Kazekage thought Jindai had insane potential and wanted to throw him straight onto the battlefield for “experience.”

That idea freaked Jindai out so bad he practically exploded.

He was six! Sending a six-year-old to war? Is that something a human would do?!

This was right before the Third Shinobi World War, with tensions already sparking in some areas.

War. A meat grinder for lives.

Jindai was convinced—if he went, he’d die. No way he was risking it.

He’d been planning to show off his Magnet Release skills to the Third Kazekage, but he scrapped that idea fast. If the Kazekage found out, he’d be dragged to the battlefield whether he liked it or not.

Jindai didn’t have any attachment to Sunagakure. His parents died young, and he’d been left to fend for himself, living like a recluse on the village’s outskirts. He could count the people he’d met on one hand and had exactly one friend.

So, this whole “sacrifice for the village” thing? Not his vibe. All he wanted was to get stronger, survive, and maybe marry one—or, okay, two—sweet, beautiful wives and live happily ever after.

So, Jindai threw a tantrum, claiming he had hemophobia, couldn’t stand the sight of blood, and was useless in a fight. He said he couldn’t even handle basic ninjutsu, only puppet-making. He even tried hiding.

Hiding didn’t work. The Third Kazekage found him and gave him a good thrashing.

The Kazekage tested him, and Jindai deliberately botched every ninjutsu and even fumbled his puppet control.

That finally made the Third Kazekage give up on him, thinking Jindai was only good for crafting puppets and a total dud otherwise.

So, instead of the battlefield, the Kazekage assigned Jindai to stay in Sunagakure, making puppets for the village’s puppet ninjas and, well, “planting seeds.”

Since Jindai’s clan was small, the Kazekage wanted him to have a bunch of kids with Magnet Release to boost the village’s strength down the line.

But Jindai? He was too busy perfecting his own puppets to bother making any for others.

So far, he’d only made two puppets for other ninjas.

But let’s be real—Jindai’s work was top-tier. Even the puppets he threw together in a day were leagues better than anything Sunagakure’s other puppet makers could churn out.

Jindai picked up an arm from the table and carefully attached it to the female puppet behind him.

Once it was on, he stepped back, nodded, and grinned. “Perfect~”

This female puppet was a total knockout—curvy in all the right places. Its face was a feminized version of Jindai’s own, and let’s just say, Jindai wasn’t bragging when he said he’d grow up to be a total heartthrob. So, the puppet’s face? Absolutely stunning.

He named this puppet “Kaminazuki,” a name pretty close to his own.

*Chapter 2: The Furious Third Kazekage*

In his home, Jindai was pacing in circles, eyeing his puppet, "Kaminazuki," with pride.

Just like a human, Kaminazuki had a metal skeleton, allowing for incredibly precise movements. Earlier, Jindai had installed a missile in its left arm and a poison-coated ninja blade in its right. The joints were rigged with spring-loaded, venom-tipped blades and various small mechanisms that could unleash jutsu through scrolls.

Kaminazuki’s chest cavity was packed with poisoned kunai. And inside its body, Jindai had stuffed it full of iron sand, infused with his chakra, letting him control it like an extension of himself.

What made Jindai proudest was the material he’d developed for Kaminazuki’s exterior—it was almost indistinguishable from human skin. Well, almost. If you looked closely, you’d notice it lacked pores, unlike real human skin.

Drawing on the limited knowledge he’d gained in the Sand Village, combined with ideas from his own mind, Jindai had crafted a drive system, a control mechanism, and a power device, all successfully integrated into Kaminazuki. In theory, as long as it was fully charged, the puppet could move on its own.

But the system was far from perfect. It could only handle simple commands and wasn’t anywhere near independent operation. Plus, it took ten hours to charge for just three minutes of action, and it was plagued by all sorts of issues.

This was the best Jindai could do with the awful research conditions in the Sand Village. But he wasn’t satisfied—not by a long shot.

Jindai dreamed of creating scientific ninja tools, like the ones that would exist in the future. His goal was to store chakra needed for jutsu in compact devices, embedding techniques into miniaturized scrolls that could unleash sealed moves—way more convenient than traditional jutsu scrolls.

If he could pull this off, it’d be a massive upgrade for Kaminazuki. But here’s the problem: Jindai had no reference materials, and even if he did, the Sand Village was too broke to support his research.

The village was dirt poor.

Then there was Sasori, the only puppet master who could create human puppets. More specifically, it was his chakra cores that fascinated Jindai. Sasori could turn a corpse into a puppet with a chakra core that preserved all of the person’s jutsu and even their kekkei genkai from when they were alive. That core was the key—the biggest advantage of human puppets.

But to Jindai, Sasori’s puppets were nothing special beyond that chakra core. Sure, they could use the person’s old jutsu and bloodline limits, but that was it. Jindai’s Kaminazuki was on a whole other level because he focused on the puppet itself, not just what it could borrow from a corpse.

Still, Jindai didn’t dare approach Sasori to talk shop. Sasori’s human puppet-making was a dark secret, and if Jindai barged in like some reckless idiot, Sasori would probably take him out. Plus… the process of making human puppets sounded gruesome, and Jindai wasn’t sure he could stomach it.

“Man,” Jindai sighed, “I wish I could meet Orochimaru. Yeah, he’s pretty twisted, but he created Mecha-Naruto! A scientist like that… if I could just pick his brain, I bet I’d learn something amazing.”

For the first time, Jindai—who’d never felt lonely before—felt a pang of solitude. He just wanted someone who shared his passion to talk to. Feeling worn out, he munched on some bread, washed it down with water, and collapsed onto his bed to sleep.

Meanwhile, in the Kazekage’s building in the Sand Village, a meeting was underway.

The Third Kazekage, Chiyo, Ebizo, and other high-ranking Sand Village officials were all present.

Ebizo spoke in a low, serious tone. “Based on reports from my informants across the great nations, the ninja world is on edge. It’s been years since the last war, and the major powers have recovered their strength. They’re gearing up for another conflict.”

The Third Kazekage frowned. “Another war? So these skirmishes could escalate into a full-blown war soon?”

Ebizo nodded grimly. “Exactly. All it’ll take is a spark, and we’ll have a Third Great Ninja War on our hands.”

Chiyo let out a heavy sigh. “It hasn’t even been that long since the Second Great Ninja War. The Land of Wind isn’t like the other nations. Our environment’s harsh, our resources are scarce, and we still haven’t fully recovered. How are we supposed to fight another war?”

The Third Kazekage’s expression darkened.

Sure, the Land of Wind was one of the five great nations, but it was the weakest by far. Population, military strength, economy, resources—none of it could compare to the other nations. After the Second Great Ninja War, the daimyo of the Land of Wind had pushed for military cuts.

The Third Kazekage had fought tooth and nail to stop the disarmament, and he’d succeeded—barely. But the daimyo only provided the bare minimum in funding, leaving the Kazekage to scrape together the rest himself.

The Third Kazekage knew one thing for sure: you could skimp on anything, but not on ninja. Strong ninja meant a strong Sand Village. To keep the funds flowing, he’d taken on every dirty, exhausting job he could find, barely sleeping some nights.

Suddenly, he slammed his fist on the table, his voice boiling with rage. “That short-sighted fool! He deserves to rot!”

The room went silent. The Sand Village’s higher-ups stared at the Kazekage, startled and confused by his outburst.

Chiyo leaned forward. “Third, what’s wrong?”

The Kazekage gritted his teeth. “If that daimyo hadn’t slashed our budget to the bone, we could’ve trained a whole new generation of ninja by now! This Third Great Ninja War is our chance! The other four nations won’t bother attacking us—there’s nothing here for them to take. They’ll want to ally with us instead, to keep our ninja from hitting them. We could’ve made a fortune in this war, and it’s all slipping through our fingers!”

Chiyo and Ebizo exchanged a glance, instantly understanding his frustration.

The Land of Wind was so barren that the other nations saw no point in attacking it—there was nothing to gain. But they would worry about the Sand Village’s ninja striking them, so they’d be eager to form alliances to avoid trouble. After all, when you’ve got nothing to lose, even a small gain is a big win.

But with the village still recovering and military funds so tight, the Sand Village’s current ninja forces weren’t strong enough to compete in a full-scale war.

And that’s why the Third Kazekage was so furious. A golden opportunity was slipping away, all because of money.

---

Chapter 3: The Undercover Plan

In the meeting room of the Wind Shadow Building, the Third Kazekage was fuming. The daimyo’s refusal to provide military funding had cost Sunagakure a golden opportunity.

One of the village elders spoke up, “So… are we joining this war or not?”

The Third Kazekage gritted his teeth. “We’re joining, no question about it! Even if the odds aren’t in our favor, we’ll make our own opportunity. Konoha, right next door, is loaded with resources. Once all-out war breaks out, Cloud and Rock Villages will have their sights set on Konoha. That’s our chance to swoop in and take a piece of the pie while they’re busy fighting!”

Ebizō chimed in, “That’s a solid plan, Third, but Konoha’s got that Yellow Flash tearing up the battlefield. He’s gone toe-to-toe with the Third Raikage’s son and the Eight-Tails Jinchūriki multiple times and come out on top. Plus, Konoha’s packed with strong ninja. Even if we try to play the opportunist, profiting as the third party in this fight could cost us dearly.”

The Third Kazekage’s resolve didn’t waver. “Doesn’t matter. As long as the gains outweigh the losses, we can’t afford to sit this out.”

Ebizō leaned forward with a suggestion. “What if we send someone to infiltrate Konoha? Gain their trust, learn their secrets—high-level jutsu, hidden techniques, maybe even get our hands on their bloodline limits. If we pull this off, our spy could pave the way for us when the time comes to invade Konoha.”

The Third Kazekage’s eyes lit up. “That’s a damn good idea!” But his excitement quickly faded, his brow furrowing. “It’s brilliant, but pulling it off won’t be easy. We’re not at full-scale war yet, but Konoha’s already clashing with Cloud, and Rock’s waiting for their moment to strike. Konoha’s got to be on high alert for spies.”

Ebizō’s voice grew serious. “It all depends on how much you’re willing to sacrifice, Third.”

The Kazekage met his gaze, unflinching. “Speak plainly, Ebizō.”

Ebizō nodded. “To catch Konoha’s attention, we’d need to offer something big—powerful jutsu or secret techniques, for example. But let’s be real, Third, you know Sunagakure’s stash isn’t exactly tempting to Konoha. The one thing they’d bite at… is a bloodline limit. If you’re willing to go that far, we could send a ninja with a bloodline limit to infiltrate Konoha.”

The Kazekage’s expression darkened. “A bloodline limit… We don’t have many of those in Sunagakure. And even if Konoha would be interested, we can’t just hand one over. In times like these, it’d be too obvious. They’d see right through us.”

Ebizō shook his head. “We wouldn’t just send them over, of course. It’ll take some finesse. I’ve got a plan, Third, hear me out. Rock Village is eyeing Konoha, and Konoha’s on guard against them. What if we propose an alliance with Rock Village? To show our sincerity—and to secure some resources—we offer them a ninja with a bloodline limit in exchange for supplies like kunai and explosive tags.

“Old man Ōnoki in Rock Village is greedy, and with only a few small nations between Wind and Earth Countries, he’s got to be wary of us once war breaks out. If we approach him with an alliance and throw in a bloodline limit ninja—while assuring him we won’t attack—Ōnoki won’t say no. It’s just some supplies for him, and he’ll jump at the deal.

“Here’s the trick: when we hand over the bloodline limit ninja to Rock, we make sure Konoha ‘accidentally’ gets wind of it. They’ll know we’re trading a bloodline limit ninja to Rock Village. Konoha won’t stand by—they’ll move to intercept the deal to stop us from allying with Rock. If they succeed, our ninja becomes their prize. That’s how we get our spy into Konoha, no questions asked.

“We walk away with a batch of supplies for free, our spy is planted in Konoha, and Rock Village will blame Konoha for the interception, not us. After that, we sit back, watch the chaos unfold, and wait for the perfect moment to strike Konoha.”

The Third Kazekage and the other elders mulled over Ebizō’s plan in silence. Chiyo, calmly sipping her tea, couldn’t help but feel proud of her younger brother’s cunning.

The plan was airtight. All it needed was the Kazekage’s resolve.

After a moment of thought, the Third Kazekage made his decision. Sunagakure was too weak to pass up any opportunity. “I’m in,” he said. “What about the rest of you?”

Chiyo set down her teacup. “I’m in.”

The other elders nodded in agreement.

The Third Kazekage declared, “Then we move forward with Ebizō’s plan. After this meeting, I’ll draft a letter to Ōnoki proposing the alliance.”

Ebizō raised a hand. “One more thing, Third. The bloodline limit ninja we choose has to be absolutely loyal to Sunagakure. And to prevent Konoha from probing their memories, we need precautions in place.”

Chiyo spoke up. “For memory protection, the ‘Subconscious Sand Manipulation’ technique should do the trick. Given the tense situation, our spy will need to pass intel about Konoha. We can set the technique to trigger automatically—if their mind is probed, it’ll release the seal and restore their memories.”

Ebizō nodded. “Exactly. So, Third, do you have anyone in mind?”

The Kazekage thought for a moment, a name surfacing in his mind. Just as he was about to speak, Ebizō cut him off. “Hold on. The fewer people who know the spy’s identity, the safer they’ll be. The more who know, the greater the risk of exposure. Even the team escorting the spy to the trade with Rock shouldn’t know the truth. They need to believe it’s a real deal, and if it comes to it, they might have to sacrifice themselves to ensure the spy gets into Konoha.”

The Third Kazekage nodded. “Understood. The meeting’s over. I’ll handle the arrangements from here.”

Chapter 4: Pakura

After a cozy nap at home, Jindai rolled out of bed, feeling a bit peckish. He glanced at the clock, figuring his food delivery should’ve arrived by now.

“Man, I hope it’s not those flatbreads again,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “The water here’s already bitter and sour—pair it with those, and it’s like a double serving of awful.”

Grumbling, Jindai shuffled toward the door. When he opened it, a figure stood there, and his heart skipped a beat.

An assassin?!

If it was the Third Kazekage, he wouldn’t just stand there. That guy’s always swamped and would’ve barged in, straight to business.

Instinctively, Jindai tried to slam the door shut, but a hand blocked it, holding it open.

Just as he was about to throw hands, a familiar voice cut through. “Yo, it’s been forever, and you’re still this socially awkward?”

“Huh?”

Jindai looked up and relaxed instantly. It was Pakura, his only friend in Sunagakure.

“Whew, you scared me,” Jindai said, exhaling. This ninja world was so intense, he was practically jumping at shadows now. “Weren’t you out on a mission?”

Pakura rolled her eyes. “Finished it and came back, obviously. Brought you some good eats, too.” She strolled in like she owned the place, plopping a bag of food on the table and flopping onto Jindai’s bed.

As she sat, her eyes landed on the curvaceous puppet ‘Shinmuki’ at the foot of the bed. She glanced down at herself, then huffed. “Dude, can you stop thinking about pervy stuff for, like, five seconds? Puppets are for fighting, not… whatever you’re doing. Why not make a male puppet? That’d be way cooler.”

Jindai, already rummaging through the food, shot back, “You’re the one with the dirty mind. What’s wrong with making my puppet look nice? Nothing! If I made a male puppet, people would think I’m the weird one. A guy with a guy puppet? Yeah, no. This one’s a vibe—looks good, cheers me up when I’m down. Also, I’m not socially awkward, I’m just cautious.”

His eyes lit up when he saw the food: sushi, all kinds of it. Jindai grabbed a piece and popped it in his mouth, practically melting. “Oh man, this is good.” He could cry from happiness—real food was such a rare treat.

After scarfing down a few pieces, he asked, “How long you sticking around the village this time?”

“Not long,” Pakura replied. “If it’s urgent, I might have to leave for another mission tomorrow.”

Jindai raised an eyebrow. “That soon?”

Pakura sighed. “You’ve been holed up here, but you’ve heard the rumors, right? The whole ninja world’s on edge. War could hit Wind Country any day now.”

Jindai smirked. “War in Wind Country? Other villages would have to be out of their minds to attack this place. We’ve got, like, nothing.”

Pakura, fiercely loyal to Sunagakure, bristled. “What do you mean nothing? Wind Country’s got tons of resources!”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Jindai challenged.

“Like… uh, like…” Pakura’s voice trailed off, her confidence faltering as she struggled to name something.

Jindai didn’t tease her further, just sighed. Pakura was six years older than him—she was 16 and already a Jōnin, while he was just 10. They’d met by chance when he was four. He’d been sneaking out at night to take out the trash—too shy to do it during the day—and Pakura, then 10, thought he was up to no good. She tackled him to the ground, only for the misunderstanding to clear up. From there, they became friends.

Pakura treated Jindai like a little brother, and he saw her as his closest friend. But knowing her tragic fate in the Naruto story made his heart ache. Her fierce loyalty to Sunagakure would only lead to heartbreak when the village betrayed her.

“Hey,” Jindai said, his tone serious. “Don’t just blindly charge into danger because someone tells you to. Think things through, okay? Your safety comes first.”

Pakura pouted. “What, you think I’m some reckless idiot? I’m a big deal now, you know! Pakura of the Scorch Release—pretty badass, right?” She puffed out her chest, grinning proudly.

Jindai gave a half-hearted, “Yeah, yeah, super impressive.”

Oblivious to his sarcasm, Pakura beamed. “What about you, Jindai? You’re crazy strong but always hiding it, and you won’t let me tell anyone. The village could use someone like you! We could team up, protect Sunagakure together. You’d be a hero!”

Jindai waved her off. “Nah, hard pass. Fighting’s not my thing. I’d be shaking in my boots on the battlefield, probably pass out. I’d just be a liability. My dream? Marry two wives someday. If you’re up for it, you could maybe be my second wife.”

Pakura’s eyes widened, and she glared. “Second wife?! Why am I the second one?!”

Jindai shrugged like it was obvious. “Your temper’s kinda intense. If you were my first wife, you’d never let me have a second one. My first wife’s gotta be super gentle.”

He got a dreamy look, clearly enjoying the thought. Greedy? Maybe, but two wives felt just right to him—three would be too much work.

Pakura’s face turned red. “In your dreams! I’m not being your second wife—or your wife, period! You’re like my little brother!”

Jindai smirked, glancing at her flushed face. “Chill, I was just messing with you. Why’re you so worked up?”

Pakura clenched her fists, fuming. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped off the bed, stormed over to Jindai, and smacked him hard on the back of the head.

Whack.

“There,” she huffed, feeling much better.

*Chapter 5: Undercover in the Leaf Village*

After Pakura slapped Jindai hard across the face, she bolted, leaving him stunned and standing there for a good while.

By the time Jindai snapped out of it, Pakura was long gone.

Fuming, he shoved five pieces of sushi into his mouth to vent his frustration.

“Ugh, that’s so messed up!” he grumbled. “Here I am, racking my brain trying to help her avoid some future crisis, and this is how she treats me? My head’s too brilliant to be smacked around like that—what if she made me dumber?!”

But no matter how mad he was, chasing after Pakura for revenge was out of the question.

After polishing off the rest of his sushi, Jindai flopped onto his bed, legs crossed, lost in thought.

“Man, this is so boring… Wait, doesn’t the ninja world have TVs by now? Too bad the Sand Village is dirt poor—no one’s selling TVs here. If they were, I’d make a few extra puppets, sell ‘em, and buy one. What’s the point of money in a place with zero entertainment?”

After lying around for a bit, Jindai dragged himself to a chair and started tinkering with puppet parts on his desk.

Days passed like this.

Pakura hadn’t shown up since that day—she was probably off on a mission. If she were in the village, she’d be dropping by to bug him every day.

One night, half a month later, Jindai was fast asleep when his door suddenly burst open.

The traps he’d set in his room sprang to life, launching a barrage of poisoned senbon toward the doorway. Jindai jolted awake.

“Who’s there?!”

His chakra strings were already connected to his puppet, Kaminazuki, which snapped its eyes open.

But when he saw who was standing in the doorway, Jindai quickly cut the chakra strings and plastered a sheepish grin on his face.

“Oh, Uncle Kaito! What’re you doing here?”

The Third Kazekage stood in the doorway, staring at the senbon scattered across the floor with an exasperated look. “Why the heck do you have traps set up in your own house?”

Jindai chuckled nervously. “You know, just being cautious! You’ve seen how weak I am, Uncle Kaito. I’m no good in a fight—one wrong move, and I’m toast. Gotta be careful, right? But, uh… why’re you here in the middle of the night? Something up?”

The Kazekage stepped inside and said, “Get up. I’ve got something important for you to do.”

Jindai’s stomach dropped. He had a bad feeling about this.

Me? Important? He was just a small fry. What could they possibly need him for? Were they seriously sending him to fight?

Heart pounding, Jindai climbed out of bed and sat at the table across from the Kazekage, who looked deadly serious.

“Jindai,” the Third Kazekage said, “it’s time for you to serve the Sand Village.”

Jindai’s eyes widened, and he felt a chill. Oh no, this is bad. Whatever he’s about to say, it’s gonna be a huge pain.

He quickly blurted out, “Uncle Kaito, I totally get it! It’s time to step up for the village. I’ll work overtime making puppets to boost our puppet masters’ strength!”

In his head, Jindai was scrambling for a way to talk his way out of this.

But the Kazekage waved him off. “No need for that. You’re done making puppets for now. I’m sending you to the Leaf Village—as an undercover agent.”

Jindai’s brain short-circuited. He felt like his head might explode.

“Undercover? Me? In the Leaf Village?!”

What was he supposed to do, hide under a bridge in Konoha?

Snapping out of his shock, Jindai stood up, waving his hands frantically. “Uncle Kaito, I can’t do undercover! I’m terrible at lying! I get homesick, I can’t sleep in new places, and I’ll probably get sick from the water in Konoha—diarrhea, vomiting, the works! I’m too weak for this! Any genin—no, any academy student—could wipe the floor with me! If I go, I’ll just mess things up for the village. No way, I can’t do it!”

The Kazekage’s voice turned stern. “Jindai, this isn’t a request. You’re a ninja of the Sand Village, and you’re my kin. The village needs you to infiltrate the Leaf Village. You don’t have to fight—just blend in.”

Jindai was on the verge of tears. “No way, Uncle Kaito, I can’t! I’m no good at sneaking around. They’ll catch me in a heartbeat. Please, pick someone else, I’m begging you!”

Sure, part of him was curious about the Leaf Village, but only a tiny part. Going undercover there right now? That was a death sentence.

The Leaf Village was already clashing with the Cloud Village in skirmishes. There was no way they’d let a stranger waltz into their village unnoticed. Even if he somehow pulled it off, the Third Great Ninja War was looming. Once it kicked off, the Leaf Village—being so wealthy—would be a prime target. If they ran short on manpower, they’d probably drag anyone, including suspicious outsiders like him, to the front lines.

No way. He wasn’t going.

The Kazekage slammed his hand on the table, his voice sharp. “Jindai, do you realize what you’re saying? You’re a ninja. Refusing this is desertion—you’d be branded a traitor!”

Jindai pouted, his voice small and pitiful. “But I never even wanted to be a ninja! You’re the one who forced the genin title on me, Uncle Kaito.”

The Kazekage’s face flickered with embarrassment.

Back when he’d given Jindai the genin rank, it was because he saw Jindai’s knack for puppet-making and assumed he had other talents too. Normally, becoming a ninja required years of training at the academy and passing exams, but the Kazekage had fast-tracked him.

Turns out, Jindai’s only gift was crafting puppets. Everything else was… well, a mess.

The embarrassment passed quickly, though, and the Kazekage’s expression hardened. “This isn’t up for debate. It’s an order. Ninja or not, you’re part of the Sand Village, and you’re my kin. When the village needs you to make a sacrifice, you will make it. That’s your duty.”

Jindai stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he seriously pulling the “greater good” card? They were just relatives, not some sacred bond! Jindai had contributed to the village—those two puppets he’d made, even if they were rushed, had techniques that could boost the village’s puppet masters by leaps and bounds if they studied them.

He opened his mouth to argue, but the Kazekage cut him off with a cold glare.

“I’m done discussing this,” the Kazekage said. “You have two choices: go undercover in the Leaf Village, or spend the rest of your life in a maximum-security prison as a deserter.”

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