Will Kishimoto Return For A New Manga Project?

Man, that scene in 'Naruto' where Naruto and Sasuke accidentally kiss is legendary! I’ve lost count of how many memes and fanfics it spawned. From what I’ve gathered over the years, Kishimoto never *officially* confirmed it was intentional in the sense of shipping them—it was more of a classic shonen gag for shock value and comedy. But let’s be real, the fandom ran with it anyway. The anime even doubled down on the awkwardness with slow-mo replays and dramatic music. What’s wild is how this one moment became a cornerstone of NaruSasu debates. Kishimoto’s interviews usually focus on their bond as rivals or brothers, but he’s also joked about fan reactions. Whether it was meant to be romantic or just slapstick, it’s a testament to how tiny details can explode in fan culture. I still chuckle imagining Kishimoto’s face when fans kept asking about it at conventions.

Cutting right to the chase: yes, Masashi Kishimoto is the creator who wrote the final chapter of 'Naruto' (chapter 700) and is credited for both the story and the artwork. That said, manga production is a team sport — editorial input, assistant work on backgrounds and inking, and layout tweaks are all normal parts of wrapping up a decade-and-a-half-long serial. The plot beats, the emotional closure for Naruto and the epilogue that shows the next generation, are Kishimoto’s decisions and voice. I love thinking about the final chapter as his closing letter to the series. You can see his narrative fingerprints in the character arcs, the callbacks to earlier fights, and the pacing of reconciliation after the war. Editors often suggest changes and assistants help with time-consuming art tasks, but the core scripting, panel composition and final decisions that shape the story’s meaning came from him. If you compare the storytelling choices in those last pages with earlier volumes, the continuity in theme and tone is unmistakably his. So, if you ever see hot takes claiming otherwise, know that it’s more about how manga are produced than a different author sneaking in. For me, chapter 700 reads like Kishimoto’s farewell: bittersweet, full of closure, and unmistakably personal.

Believe it or not, the seed for 'Naruto' feels like it was planted from a thousand tiny obsessions that Kishimoto carried around — ninjas, folklore, punchy shonen energy, and this itch to write about someone who starts at the bottom and refuses to stay there. He’s openly referenced being inspired by the kinetic storytelling of 'Dragon Ball' and the dark, detailed atmosphere of 'Akira', and you can see that mash-up everywhere: flashy, physics-defying battles next to grim, emotional backstory. The folklore side shows up in the tailed beasts (kitsune and yokai vibes), the chakra system (a spiritual-energy mechanic repurposed into ninja craft), and small cultural touches like the name 'Uzumaki' and the Naruto whirlpools. Kishimoto layered traditional Japanese myth over modern village-and-village politics, then spiced it with contemporary humor — ramen shops, prankish protagonists, and pop-culture references — so the world feels both ancient and lived-in. Beyond media influences, there’s a human core: Kishimoto wanted to write about loneliness, recognition, and bonds. That’s why the world he built gives every character a reason to fight, grow, and connect. I love digging into how those influences mix — the mythic beasts and the kid-next-door energy — because it makes 'Naruto' feel like both a myth retold and a very messy, real coming-of-age tale. It’s the reason I keep going back to it, still finding little details that remind me why stories matter to people.

I get a little giddy whenever I think about the visual choices behind the Sharingan and the Rinnegan — they're like two opposite poles of eye design that scream personality and mythology. Kishimoto started from very simple visual ideas: the Sharingan is immediately striking because of its red field and the black comma-like marks, the tomoe. Those tomoe aren't just random dots; they're rooted in traditional Japanese symbolism — think magatama beads and the three-fold crest called mitsudomoe — which gives the Sharingan a cultural weight that reads instantly on the page. The three tomoe progression (one to three) is a neat visual shorthand for power growth in 'Naruto', so it functions both as symbol and storytelling device. For the Rinnegan Kishimoto leaned into a different vibe entirely: concentric ripples, often shown as purplish circles, which echo the Buddhist concept of the 'six paths' — Rinne does literally mean cycles or samsara — so the design evokes cosmic perspective rather than the intimate, animalistic stare of the Sharingan. That ripple pattern also makes it feel ancient and otherworldly, which suits characters who possess it. Then there's the Mangekyō Sharingan: Kishimoto treated those like fingerprints, bespoke designs born from trauma and personal history; they're asymmetrical, ornate, and tied to specific abilities, which enriches character identity. Beyond symbolism, Kishimoto was practical: eyes have to read well in black-and-white manga panels and animated action, so bold contrasts and clear shapes were essential. He mixed folklore, psychological cues, and design readability to give each eye both meaning and punch. Personally, I love how those choices make the battles feel personal — one glance at an eye tells you a ton about the character's past and threat level, and that kind of visual shorthand is pure manga genius.

Growing up with 'Naruto', I watched the movies like they were extra pages ripped out of the universe — but the truth is Kishimoto’s fingerprints on them vary a lot from one film to the next. Early theatrical entries mostly felt like standalone adventures created by the anime team; Kishimoto provided overarching approval and sometimes a few character sketches or promotional illustrations, but he wasn’t writing full screenplays for those. The studio (and the film directors/writers) built set-piece stories around the characters he made famous, and he generally let them play in that sandbox. As the franchise matured, his involvement got more hands-on. By the time of 'Road to Ninja' and especially 'The Last: Naruto the Movie', Kishimoto was contributing original concepts, new character designs, and tighter supervision to keep the films aligned with his vision of the characters’ emotional arcs. For 'The Last' in particular, you can feel his influence in the character aging, the romantic beats, and the visual redesigns that echoed through official art and merchandise. 'Boruto: Naruto the Movie' pushed this even further — Kishimoto laid out key character designs for the next generation and worked closely with the film team to shape the story so it dovetailed with his ideas about where the world should go. So, in short, it’s a sliding scale: light-touch approvals and sketches early on, moving to conceptual authorship and detailed design/supervision in the later films. That progression made the later movies feel more like true canon extensions rather than just fun side stories, which I appreciated as a fan — seeing Kishimoto’s direct aesthetic choices show up onscreen still gives me chills every time.

Kenji Kishimoto's arc in 'Unravel Me' is one of those supporting character stories that sticks with you long after you finish the book. While the main focus is on Juliette and Warner, Kenji's journey is equally compelling because of how he balances humor with genuine depth. By the end, he's solidified his role as the heart of the group, using his wit and loyalty to keep everyone grounded during the chaos. His relationship with Juliette evolves into something truly special - he becomes her rock, the one person who can make her laugh even when the world is falling apart. What's really interesting about Kenji's ending is how it sets up his future growth. He's not just the comic relief anymore; we see glimpses of his leadership potential and the emotional weight he carries. The final scenes show him stepping up in crucial moments, proving he's more than just quick one-liners. His friendship with Juliette takes center stage, and it's clear he's going to play a major role in whatever comes next. The book leaves him in a place where he's finally being recognized for his true value - not just as a soldier, but as someone who holds the group together through sheer force of personality.

What hooked me first was the pure narrative utility Sasuke provides as a mirror to Naruto, and I think Kishimoto knew that instinctively. Sasuke’s cool, withdrawn demeanor and elite background were designed to sit opposite Naruto’s loud, scrappy optimism. That contrast isn’t just surface — it’s thematic. Naruto grows through bonds and hard-won acceptance, while Sasuke is driven by loss and vengeance; placing them as rivals lets every choice one makes highlight what the other lacks or desires. Beyond theme, there’s pacing and tension. Rivalries create stakes in a shonen: training scenes, competitions, fights like the Chūnin Exams and the Valley of the End aren’t just fights, they’re emotional mileposts. Kishimoto needed a character who could push Naruto to improve, force him to confront darker possibilities, and sometimes shame him into growth. Sasuke’s departures and betrayals kept the story unpredictable and gave Naruto a north star to chase — literally and emotionally. Personally, I’ve always loved how that rivalry never felt one-dimensional. It’s a tug-of-war between empathy and ambition, isolation and connection. Kishimoto made Sasuke a foil, a challenge, and eventually a partner in a roundabout way — and that messy, evolving relationship is exactly why I keep coming back to 'Naruto'. It still gives me chills when they clash and reconcile.

I still get a warm buzz thinking about how the whole Boruto era unfolded, and if you want the short timeline: the manga's formal launch and Kishimoto's public plans for it crystallized in spring 2016. After 'Naruto' wrapped up in late 2014, Masashi Kishimoto began sketching out the world’s next chapter and provided character designs and guidance for the subsequent projects. That creative seed led to 'Boruto: Naruto the Movie' in 2015, which acted like a proof of concept and brought Boruto’s vibe to a wide audience. The concrete moment most people point to is May 2016, when the 'Boruto' manga began serialization (the debut issue was in May 2016). At that time it was announced that Ukyo Kodachi would handle the scripting with Mikio Ikemoto on art, while Kishimoto would supervise and contribute character designs and overall direction. Over the years that supervisory role was pretty important — and later, in late 2020, Kishimoto formally stepped into the writing role for the manga, shifting the series’ creative hand again. So, in short: the groundwork and teasers began right after 'Naruto' ended and through 2015’s movie, but the clear public announcement tied to the serialized manga happened around the May 2016 launch. I still love comparing the early movie beats to how the serialized story grew afterward — it’s been a wild, satisfying ride.