Naruto: Mixed Heritage(Rewrite)

Renjiro stood with Kakashi before Jiraiya, each silently hoping they'd misheard his last command. They exchanged glances, trying to decipher what their superior meant, each brow furrowing with suspicion behind their masks.

Kakashi, hidden behind his mask, tilted his head slightly. "Uh, excuse me?" he asked, confusion clear in his voice. This wasn't exactly the protocol one would expect to hear during and after a mission debrief.

Renjiro meanwhile was in his thoughts. 'I must be more tired than I thought,' he mused to himself. 'There's no way Jiraiya just told us to strip down in here.'

Jiraiya's eyebrow twitched. "What do you mean 'no way'? Yes, Renjiro, I told you both to strip down. Now."

Renjiro froze, eyes wide as realization struck him. 'Did I… did I just say that out loud?' he thought, horrified.

"Yes, you did," Jiraiya replied bluntly, clearly exasperated. "Now, strip down, both of you."

'Again?'

Renjiro opened his mouth to protest, but the irritation in Jiraiya's tone kept him silent. He exchanged a look with Kakashi, who sighed and then nodded, realizing the urgency.

With a slow, resigned exhale, Kakashi reached up, tugged down his mask, and removed it, revealing his sharp, silver-haired features. In a matter-of-fact manner, he began to unbuckle the various straps and fastenings on his gear, sliding his vest off first.

Renjiro followed suit, reaching up to his own face and removing his mask. The transformation jutsu he kept on his hair fizzled, and his bright red hair glinted under the dim light, standing out in sharp contrast to the darker hues of the room.

Kakashi turned slightly to Renjiro, giving him a quick, assessing glance. The two began to remove their shinobi vests, followed by their shirts and pants, leaving them both down to their briefs.

The air was cool, a chill settling over their bare skin as they stood before Jiraiya in a state of awkward vulnerability.

Kakashi hesitated as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his briefs, casting a doubtful look at Jiraiya, who simply waved a hand, dismissing his worry.

"That won't be necessary," he muttered, sparing them the last layer of dignity.

Renjiro released a soft sigh of relief, silently grateful. 'Not that I thought Jiraiya would go that far, but… he is a certified perv,' he thought with an inward chuckle, this time consciously to ensure he doesn't think out loud again.

Jiraiya stepped closer to the two boys, his gaze scrutinizing as he began his inspection. He moved deliberately, first turning to Renjiro, studying his arms, shoulders, and back.

He stepped in close, and Renjiro couldn't help but shiver as Jiraiya's shadow loomed over him, his gaze scrutinizing every inch. He grumbled inwardly,

'Two naked young boys and a man in a dim room… not what I ever thought I'd experience.'

As Jiraiya's hand brushed along his shoulder, Renjiro stiffened, feeling both uncomfortable and oddly amused by the absurdity of the situation. His eyes wandered to Kakashi, who looked equally unsettled.

"What is that?" Kakashi's voice broke through the silence, his attention locked onto Renjiro's neck.

Jiraiya leaned in, following Kakashi's gaze to a faint, blackish mark just under Renjiro's jawline, where it was hidden by his hairline. The mark was faint, like an ink stain that had been half-washed away, but it was unmistakable. Jiraiya's expression darkened as he examined it, reaching out to tilt Renjiro's head for a better look.

"Exactly what I was looking for," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Renjiro strained his neck slightly, uncomfortable. "What are you talking about?"

Jiraiya seemed to ignore him, peering closer at the faint mark as if trying to glean more information from it. After a moment, he nodded, seemingly reaching some conclusion.

"Though it's faint, I think it will help us."

"Help us with what?" Renjiro pressed, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Jiraiya still didn't answer, absorbed in his study of the mark. Frustrated, Renjiro created a shadow clone with a quick series of hand seals, the familiar cloud of smoke leaving a near-naked duplicate standing before him.

He winced at the sight, unsettled; even though he'd looked at himself in the mirror countless times, seeing his shadow clone in just briefs was… weird. He couldn't quite put his finger on the discomfort, but it was there all the same.

Pushing the thought aside, Renjiro instructed his clone to examine the mark on his neck. The clone raised its hand, tracing the faint outline as it looked into Renjiro's face with the same curiosity that was etched into his own features. As Renjiro's fingers brushed over the marking, his eyes widened slightly, his mind racing.

'Is this a… Karma?'

The thought sent a chill through him, but he immediately dismissed it.

'No, I haven't encountered any Otsutsuki… not to my knowledge, anyway. It can't be that. Besides, it's too early in the story for something like that.'

Jiraiya's attention shifted to Kakashi, who stood silently, watching the interaction with a furrowed brow. Jiraiya turned him around, inspecting his shoulders and neck.

"You've got one, too," Jiraiya murmured, his voice laced with gravity. He pointed to a similar mark on the nape of Kakashi's neck, though this one was darker, more defined.

Renjiro's clone dispelled, transferring his observations back to him. He looked between Kakashi and Jiraiya, his thoughts a flurry of questions. Why did they both have these marks? How, and when had they appeared? And why was his mark fainter than Kakashi's?

But before he could voice any of these questions, Jiraiya interrupted. "This will do," he said curtly. With a swift hand sign, he placed one hand on each of their shoulders, and in an instant, they flickered away from the room.

They landed somewhere entirely different, a cold morning breeze prickling their bare skin. Renjiro instinctively crossed his arms over his chest, his body shivering from the sudden exposure to the chill.

'It's too early for this,' he thought, teeth chattering slightly.

Kakashi looked around, his hands tucked over his own torso as he tried to assess where they'd ended up. Finally, Renjiro recognized their surroundings—the layout was familiar. They were in the intelligence corps building, a hidden facility on the outskirts of Konoha, known only to high-ranking shinobi.

He'd been here before, back when he was still an academy student, training in sensory techniques. He remembered the quiet, the scent of ink and parchment, and the lingering silence that seemed to permeate every room.

But this section was different, a restricted area he'd never been permitted to enter.

They were met by a tall, stoic shinobi with dark sunglasses, unmistakably an Aburame. He glanced briefly at Kakashi, his face impassive, but Renjiro could tell he was uneasy.

"He has the mark," Jiraiya informed the Aburame.

At this, the man's face tightened, his expression becoming even more inscrutable as he nodded and gestured for them to follow him down a narrow hallway.

They were led into a dimly lit room, and Renjiro noticed how the Aburame paused at the door, a flicker of hesitation in his movements before he gestured for them to enter.

"Wait here," he instructed them in a monotone voice before disappearing back into the hall.

Renjiro turned to Jiraiya, his voice low but tinged with urgency. "What's going on? Why the secrecy?"

Jiraiya's face was grim as he replied, "That mark you both have… it's not just any seal. It's encoded with critical information that Takata uncovered."

"Information?" Renjiro repeated, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach. He glanced at Kakashi, who looked equally perturbed, though he kept his composure as usual.

Moments later, the Aburame returned with another shinobi, a Yamanaka woman with pale blonde hair tied back in a neat bun. She moved with a quiet confidence, her eyes sharp and discerning as she assessed the two boys, each standing nearly unclothed and visibly uncomfortable. She gave Jiraiya a quick nod before addressing the group.

"We'll begin with the information transfer," she said, her voice calm and professional.

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