"Hamaki, I have to go."
Namikaze Minato turned to a middle-aged man with a ring of stubble at the corner of his mouth.
Mimura Hamaki was the frontline commander of the defensive forces—a very seasoned jōnin.
"Did something go wrong with the mission to cut off Iwa's supply line?" Mimura panted.
At his level, he of course knew they were fighting a two-front battle: most of the main force was here at the front, pinning down Iwa's shinobi, while a small squad slipped behind enemy lines to blow the bridge.
"Yeah."
Minato nodded slightly, his expression grave.
He'd already slaughtered most of the Iwa troops here; the immediate crisis at the front was handled.
Now he had to see what was happening at Kannabi Bridge.
As long as that bridge stood, the enemy could freely redeploy reinforcements—rear support would flow in without obstruction.
"I'll be back soon."
With that, Minato's figure flickered and vanished.
"Flying Thunder God… the Second Hokage's jutsu that was supposed to have been lost," Mimura muttered, watching him go.
It was that technique that let Minato shine so brightly in this war.
When Minato reappeared, the moment he opened his eyes he saw the cave collapsing.
Rocks were pouring down all around him, nearly crushing him as they fell.
"?"
He frowned in confusion.
Where did that dump him?
Still in Land of Grass?
He immediately threw a special kunai out toward the cave mouth.
Thunk.
Another flicker, and he was outside, yanking the kunai free and holding it in hand.
"Up ahead…"
He felt familiar chakra—Kiyohara's, Rin's, and the others'.
"Looks like the special kunai I gave Kakashi dropped in there. After they escaped the cave, they were surrounded and didn't have time to pick it up, so they had to retreat."
From that one clue, Minato quickly pieced together a reasonable scenario—and rushed forward.
...
"Wow, I didn't expect you to have killed Kakkō and the others as well. Slipping in behind enemy lines was impressive enough, but you still had this much fight in you… pretty tenacious."
Sumashi looked at Kiyohara and the others.
Then, as if remembering something, his gaze fixed on Kiyohara.
"According to the sketches from our recon ninja, the one who kept scrambling our sensing and letting the rats sneak in… was you, wasn't it, brat?"
He stared at Kiyohara.
It was this kid's coordination that had let the other Konoha shinobi get this deep into Iwa's belly.
If anything happened to Kannabi Bridge, the village would hand down severe punishment.
The bridge absolutely could not be lost.
So once Sumashi realized something was wrong here, he'd rushed over with a squad of Iwa-nin.
Kakashi forced himself to stand, squeezing what little he could from his 1.3 million trillion cells, refining a final shred of chakra.
He converted it all into Lightning chakra; pale blue arcs flared in his hand. The light washed over his face, and that piercing sound filled the forest.
But after just three seconds, his chakra was nearly gone. His face went deathly pale—he couldn't even maintain Chidori anymore.
The lightning sputtered out.
"I can't… even do this now?"
Bitterness twisted Kakashi's expression.
His chakra reserves were still too low.
Or rather, Chidori's drain was too high—he just couldn't sustain it yet.
Since getting the Sharingan, he'd felt like a punctured ball, his chakra leaking constantly. Because he wasn't an Uchiha, the transplanted eye couldn't be closed.
Normal Uchiha only activate their Sharingan in battle; the rest of the time it's off—no cost. He, on the other hand, was burning chakra 24/7. From the moment of transplant until now, his already meager reserves had been scraped even thinner.
"Kakashi…"
Rin had noticed too.
She didn't know whether Obito's Sharingan was really a "power-up" for Kakashi, or more of a burden.
But it was Obito's last relic—and his last will: for Kakashi to use that eye to keep watching this world for him. That thought stuck in her throat; she couldn't say a word against it.
"Let me."
Seeing Kakashi turned into a three-second wonder, Genma barked out and stepped forward.
A heartbeat later, senbon burst from his mouth, and his hands flashed through seals. The needles multiplied into a dense storm, flooding toward Sumashi.
But as a veteran special jōnin, especially skilled in Earth Release, Sumashi was faster.
"Earth Release: Rock Section Cane!"
He slapped the ground with one hand; a solid stone short staff shot up, punching through the senbon pattern and breaking their formation.
His body blurred—he closed the distance in an instant. The other hand was sheathed in rock as he chopped down like an axe.
Thud!
Genma's hasty guard shattered; he was knocked flying and crashed into the dirt, struggling to get back up.
"Genma!" Kurenai cried, hastily forming seals to cast genjutsu.
"Kurenai, wait—don't rush it."
Kiyohara grabbed her, eyes narrowed.
"His Earth Release is too refined. Charging in blindly is dangerous," he said.
Special jōnin might not carry the full title, but that didn't mean they were weaker than standard jōnin.
If Obito tried for a jōnin exam, even with jōnin-level power, he'd probably only be rated special jōnin—his Intelligence stat was too low, even worse than some fresh Academy graduates.
To be full jōnin, your "hexagon" had to be filled—no major weaknesses. You needed jōnin-level ability across the board.
Which is why special jōnin were basically specialist jōnin: top-tier in one area, lacking in others.
"But…" Kurenai looked at the enemy closing in step by step, and the dozen or so Iwa-nin forming a loose ring around them. The situation felt bad.
"Don't worry. I'll handle it," Kiyohara said.
Minato should be on his way; Kiyohara just had to stall.
He popped a soldier pill into his mouth, restoring a bit of stamina.
"Future me, your turn. Show them what a raging blue beast—wait, no, what a beating from the future really looks like," he said.
He had no choice now but to rely on his future self.
"Been a while since I stretched properly," Rogue Kiyohara said with a small smile.
Earlier possessions had only been against small fry—no pressure.
With this many ninja coming at once, it was time to get serious.
Let them learn that even among jōnin, there are levels.
In the next instant, Kiyohara's entire aura changed.
The youthfulness in his gaze vanished, replaced by the sharpness of someone hardened by countless battles.
He rolled his neck with a soft crack, swept his eyes over Sumashi and the other Iwa-nin, and the corner of his mouth lifted in the faintest hint of a grin.
~~~
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