Nighttime, the Pakura household.
Staring at the pile of puppets in front of her, Pakura asked:
"What are you planning to do with these?"
"I'll modify them first and see how it goes."
"You know puppet techniques?"
"Nope. But I do know how to turn a screwdriver. Just need to tweak a few things."
Kiyosuke replied with great confidence.
"…"
She had a bad feeling about this.
This man—outside of battle—had never once given off a reliable impression.
"Whatever, do what you want. Just keep it down. I'm going to sleep."
"Sure, go ahead."
Kiyosuke opened the toolbox he had brought over from Chiyo's house, then looked at the puppets in front of him and muttered:
"Heh, good thing I picked up some core tech from my teacher. These are just puppets—modding them should be a piece of cake."
Orochimaru wasn't only versed in biology; he dabbled in mechanics too. Naturally, Kiyosuke had picked up a few tricks along the way.
Being by Orochimaru's side, Kiyosuke had learned a wide range of knowledge—combat techniques, medical ninjutsu, biology, genetics, bloodline limits, human anatomy… the list went on. Most of it he never had to use.
He didn't know formal puppet techniques, but he could wing it well enough. It's not like he was one of those scheming puppet masters trying to lay traps.
"Alright, first I'll add a cape... and a skirt. That's the true mark of power!"
Clang! Clang! Clatter...
...
The next morning, Pakura walked into the living room and found Kiyosuke asleep on the sofa.
She shook her head and smiled faintly, but when her eyes fell on what he had made, she froze.
"What… the hell is that?"
Four golden thorn-like spikes jutted upward from the head like a crown. Black compound eyes took up most of the face. The muscular black body was outlined with golden lines.
A cape and a skirt—symbols of status and power.
It looked absolutely nothing like the puppet it had started as.
Pakura immediately shook Kiyosuke awake and demanded:
"What the hell did you make last night?!"
"Oh, this?" Kiyosuke stretched and beamed. "This is my masterpiece!"
"The puppet? Isn't this supposed to be a puppet?!"
"Yeah, it is a puppet," he replied. "I just changed how it looks."
"Changed how it looks? This doesn't look like a puppet at all!"
"Well, not looking like a puppet is exactly the point. Honestly, I was planning to make a full-on bodysuit. It's a shame this one can't be worn."
Kiyosuke looked down at his creation with visible regret.
"Shame my ass! If you walk around with this weird thing, your career as a shinobi is finished!"
"What's wrong with it? Don't underestimate it! Kamen Riders are the ultimate male fantasy!"
Kiyosuke spoke with righteous conviction.
"I spent all night painting and detailing this thing."
"I get that… but are you sure this can function as a puppet?"
"…"
Kiyosuke fell silent. Halfway through the night, he'd gotten carried away with a random idea and ended up…
…making a life-sized figurine.
Adjusting a non-existent pair of glasses, he said:
"Pakura, isn't collecting figures kinda fun too? Relax—I'll whip up a bodysuit today. Just get me some iron and tools."
Smack!
His face was shoved into the sofa and scrubbed back and forth.
"You idiot! Can't you take things seriously for once?!"
Was this really the guy with terrifying strength? Had someone swapped him with a lookalike?
"…Sorry."
Kiyosuke groaned.
Pakura let go and sighed.
"Fine. Besides iron and tools, what else do you need?"
"Durable rubber and paint. I'll make a full bodysuit."
"You're not using puppets anymore?"
"Nope."
Smack!
"Then why the hell did we steal those puppets last night?!"
"I'm sorry!!!"
...
With the tools in hand, Kiyosuke began building a bodysuit right there in Pakura's home.
Two days later, he completed a bodysuit all by himself.
Staring at the golden figure in front of her, Pakura was silent.
"This is what you've been working on the past few days?"
"Of course. Don't underestimate it. It's super cool."
"…"
This idiot.
She let out a long sigh.
"You seriously plan to use this against Rasa?"
"Why not? As long as he doesn't recognize me, it'll work. I'm taking action tonight."
Kiyosuke stood up, suited up, and moved around in the armor.
"How do I look? Cool, right? Cool, right?"
Pakura's head started to ache.
Was this really the Arsonist?
He was just a big kid, wasn't he?
And seriously—where the hell did this inspiration even come from?
"Do you need me tonight?"
"I'll subdue him. You just stab him once I've got him pinned."
"Got it."
...
Under the hazy moonlight, Sunagakure's nights were bitterly cold.
After a long day's work, Rasa returned home, ready for a good night's rest.
Suddenly, the lights in his room went out.
His instincts as a shinobi immediately warned him—something was wrong.
From within his sleeve, gold dust began to pour silently to the floor.
A shadow flickered through the room. The gold dust surged upward, forming a shield and blocking the strike.
The intruder didn't land the hit and immediately darted away.
Rasa didn't hesitate—he gave chase.
"What the hell is that?"
Under the moonlight, he finally caught sight of the strange figure.
Two massive clock hands protruded from its back.
The armor was black and gold, with a golden strap across the chest like a belt. The design was powerful, regal—and completely alien to this world.
The figure moved fast. Too fast to call for help.
Rasa tailed it beyond the village, out into the desert.
"Not running anymore?" Rasa asked, seeing the figure stop ahead.
"Not running. This place has a nice view. A perfect spot for your grave."
A low, deep voice came from behind the mask.
Rasa sneered.
"You coward, hiding behind armor. Who the hell are you?"
"The one who knows the past and future. The King of Time!"
Kiyosuke laughed wildly.
"Just a passing Kamen Rider. Remember that."
He raised his hand.
"Now then… count your sins!"
"Tch. Lunatic. Once I catch you, I'll make you tell me who you really are!"
Rasa lifted his hand.
Golden sand poured out like a ruthless tidal wave.
Kiyosuke chuckled and leapt into the air.
"Now! Sand Gold: Long Needles!"
The sand below formed dozens of long golden needles, shooting toward Kiyosuke who was still airborne.
"You think that'll kill me?"
Kiyosuke scoffed, pretending to weave hand seals.
He spat out a stream of fire.
The blazing flames melted the incoming needles in an instant.
He dived downward, hands flashing through another set of seals.
"Wind Style: Wind Cutter Technique!"
"Sand Gold Shield!"
The nearly invisible blades of wind slashed at the golden shield, leaving deep scars—but failing to break through.
Rasa repaired the shield and stared intently.
"Who are you? Which village are you from?"
Attacks of this caliber weren't something a nameless rogue could pull off.
Just who was hiding behind that armor?
----------------
Pls Drop some Power Stones
+100 chapters and support me on Patreon(.)com/Jixo