Looks like becoming a chūnin can't wait any longer.
Kiyohara grabbed the scroll, stuffed it into his tool pouch, shut his eyes, and lay down to sleep.
At a forward base, there wasn't much in the way of entertainment.
Well, not no entertainment.
As the saying goes: poor guys tinker with rides, rich guys collect watches.
If you're broke… you "work something out by hand."
If he really wanted to find a "hobby," he could.
But after an entire day of marching, Kiyohara was completely wiped in both body and mind.
If he still had energy, he'd pick "hobby first, training after."
Too bad that even if he kept grinding ninjutsu now, it wouldn't do much.
Chakra is a mix of spiritual and physical energy; if you break it down further, it all turns back into its most basic unit—stamina.
So you can't refine chakra too much in one go; the body needs time to recover.
Since he couldn't train and had no particular entertainment, all he could do was lie in bed and wait for orders to return to the village.
...
Around noon the next day, while Kiyohara was still asleep, he suddenly heard someone come in.
He reacted instantly, cracked his eyes the tiniest bit, and reflexively reached for his tool pouch.
When he saw it was Kurenai, he put his hand back without a sound and kept pretending to sleep.
"This guy actually looks pretty good when he's asleep," Kurenai murmured.
She crouched down and studied his face.
Even asleep, his expression was easy on the eyes.
You could say he was in a completely different league from Sarutobi Asuma, who was always hanging around her.
Asuma dressed like a delinquent, had father-son drama with the Third, and the older he got, the rougher he looked. Kurenai suspected that once he grew up, he'd definitely have a full beard.
Just as she was about to poke Kiyohara's cheek—
He suddenly opened his eyes and looked right at her.
"Not good to sneak cheap shots off me, you know," he said.
Boys outside the village also needed to pay attention to their personal safety.
"Eh?"
Kurenai froze, her ruby eyes blinking as they met his dark ones.
She hadn't expected him to be awake—much less to have seen what she was just about to do.
"I—I just saw it was already midday and came to wake you for lunch. Minato-sama said our reassignment orders are coming this afternoon," she said, pinching the hem of her clothes with her fingers, scrambling for an excuse.
"Got it."
Kiyohara nodded, sat up, and stretched.
They'd be heading back to Konoha in the afternoon. He wondered how much debt he could pay off this time.
Thinking about the sealing scroll full of loot, he couldn't help but smile.
Like an old farmer who'd toiled all year, looking at a freshly harvested field with a satisfied grin.
Iwa-nin really were great.
They gave him achievements and money.
"What are you thinking? That smile looks suspicious," Kurenai asked.
"Thinking about you," Kiyohara said casually.
Then he picked up the water cup on the wobbly wooden table, took a sip, and headed out.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"The bathroom."
He looked genuinely puzzled.
What else would you do first thing after getting out of bed?
"Alright, enough talking. I'm going," he said, lifting the flap and stepping out.
He was a sigma man.
And as a proper sigma ninja, he was never going to get caught in a woman's "trap."
Flirting is fine—but it can't delay a bathroom run.
"This guy…"
Watching him leave, Kurenai bit her lip.
She had no idea why he never played things by the script.
If she'd asked Asuma, he'd just grin like an idiot and answer her outright.
When Kiyohara came back, he found Kurenai still there.
"Minato-sama asked me to bring you this," she said, taking out a thick wad of money.
Kiyohara instantly felt she looked a few degrees prettier; the curve of her eyes when she smiled was downright adorable.
You should've led with 'I came to give you money,' he thought.
He took the bills and started counting.
War was a special time.
Not every mission had to be handed off at the Hokage Building—if they did that, completion efficiency would crash. A lot of the time, the local commander could issue payment directly to stabilize the shinobi's morale.
Right now, Kiyohara's morale was very stabilized. The weight of the bills in his hand felt wonderfully solid.
"Let's see… this counts as a joint A-rank, and after the village's 'platform fee' cut, my share comes to 130,000 ryō," he calculated.
Pretty neat, actually.
He hadn't originally been qualified to participate in this mission; they were just short-staffed and made do with whoever they had.
After all, their real role had been decoy work; Minato had carried the heaviest load.
They didn't need Kiyohara to be overwhelmingly strong—just good enough at drawing attention and buying time.
Just as Kurenai was about to say something, the tent flap was yanked open again.
"Let's go. Orders are in—we're heading back with Kakashi's squad," Genma said, the senbon between his teeth bobbing as he spoke.
Kurenai pressed her lips together and followed him out.
...
After several days of travel, Kiyohara finally returned to Konoha.
He knew he wouldn't be staying long before being sent back to the front, so he had to lock in his chūnin rank first.
"We're home," Rin said, staring at the village with a distant look.
They'd left with light hearts.
They returned heavy.
Obito was now buried forever in foreign soil.
"I've got some things to do, so I'll head off first," Kiyohara said after exchanging a few polite words with the others.
With his sealing scroll in hand, he went straight to the ninja tools shop.
The newer the gear, the higher the buyback price; beat-up gear was worth less.
He was strapped for cash—he had loans to pay and a weapon to forge.
The chakra metal he'd looted from Huoguang, he planned to turn into a longsword—something like Sasuke's Kusanagi.
Of course, he figured Sasuke's Kusanagi was made from top-tier material; in the Fourth Great Ninja War, they'd fought forever and that blade never chipped. Quality maxed.
"Okay then, Kiyohara. See you next time," Rin said, waving.
Kakashi gave him a look Kiyohara couldn't quite read.
He felt like Kakashi was saying, "Let's talk more when we get the chance."
"Man, I can finally relax…" Genma scratched his head. He was planning to sleep for days.
"Kurenai, where are you going?" he asked, seeing Kiyohara walking off first while Kurenai still stared at his back.
"My father said he'd teach me some stronger genjutsu. I'm going home to train."
"Ah, Shinku-senpai," Genma nodded.
It was said that Yūhi Shinku, Kurenai's father, had incredibly deep genjutsu skill.
Rumor even claimed he could reflect Uchiha genjutsu—despite having no bloodline limit.
He was basically the poster child for civilian genjutsu.
"Then I'm off too."
Soon, the little group that had come back together broke apart, each blending back into the busy streets.
...
"This shop is a rip-off," Kiyohara muttered, holding a bag of money—the payout from selling back shuriken, kunai, exploding tags, and the like.
"My review: not worth a repeat visit," he sighed.
The owner kept lowballing him. If Kiyohara hadn't needed the money so badly, he'd have gone outside the village to offload his gear instead.
"There's no such thing as a 'clean' merchant," Rogue Kiyohara said.
If Kiyohara were in the owner's place, he'd be cutting prices too. He didn't believe his past self wouldn't.
"Forget it," Kiyohara waved it off.
He'd gotten 70,000 ryō altogether—not bad, actually. That was nearly half his mission pay again.
As the saying goes: murder and arson put gold belts on your waist; repairing bridges and roads leaves no corpses to bury.
If he wanted to make real money, dirty or not, this was the way.
Once he got stronger, he'd be able to loot even more bodies.
Minato had said he'd already submitted the chūnin recommendation, which meant the exam would be in the next few days.
Internal referrals were usually just formalities—but Kiyohara wanted to be safe, so he planned to train harder anyway.
What if he somehow flubbed it?
Better to be careful.
"Looks like you're even more cautious than I was," Rogue Kiyohara said with a sigh.
If he'd been this careful back then, he might not have stepped on that exploding tag and died.
"Well, considering my future self died to exploding tags, there's no cause of death that would surprise me anymore," Kiyohara said.
High-grade ingredients often need the simplest cooking.
Every new Willbook meant one more way he'd die in the future.
Infinite futures… infinite deaths.
"Time to get back to training."
He bought some basic supplies, then carried his things back to his little rundown home.
...
Hokage Building.
Sarutobi Hiruzen looked over the papers on his desk.
One was a report of a major victory.
Another was a chūnin recommendation from Minato.
The name on it: Kiyohara.
Below that, there was a thick stack of other applications—Kiyohara's had been placed in the most prominent spot.
Attached were his family background, blue-backed headshot, personality, habits, and other basic details.
"Kiyohara, huh… we've actually got some good seedlings among the civilians this time," Hiruzen murmured, nodding.
Compared to clan members, he preferred to promote commoners.
For a simple reason: unless they were absolutely loyal, clan shinobi were always mindful of family interests.
When clan interests clash with village interests—what do they choose?
"Shika," Hiruzen called.
A masked Anbu with purple antler-like markings on her mask dropped to one knee in the office.
In Anbu, during missions, everyone abandoned their real names and used codenames only.
"Record Kiyohara as a chūnin… No. Arrange a chūnin exam for him instead—three days from now. Have him tested along with the other outstanding genin from this war," Hiruzen said, changing tack.
Some people achieve nothing in peacetime.
Others rise to the surface in chaos.
Times make heroes.
Normally, someone like Kiyohara would be promoted directly—but on second thought, Hiruzen wanted to see more of his potential. Another selection round was just an extra step.
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
Shika accepted the application and left to process it.
Anbu reported directly to the Hokage and handled many secret matters.
Titles and promotions definitely counted as such.
When she was gone, Hiruzen rubbed his brow.
There were some good tidings—but bad news as well.
On other fronts, the situation was still murky.
Most sensitive of all was what had happened with Kakashi: an outsider had transplanted a Sharingan.
The Hyūga had even created the Caged Bird Seal—a near-slavery system—just to keep the Byakugan from leaving the clan.
Hiruzen didn't yet know how the Uchiha would react.
He could only hope they wouldn't pick this critical moment in the war to make trouble.
"We still need to cultivate more of the village's youth," he said, raising his pipe, taking a drag, and blowing out smoke slowly.
Minato had written plenty of praise in Kiyohara's file.
That stirred an idea.
If Kiyohara really was that impressive, could he be raised as a "second Minato"?
A genin performing this well on an A-rank mission stood out even among the other chūnin candidates.
...
Kiyohara's house.
Old and shabby, but with a small yard.
Right now he stood in it, holding a shuriken with a barely visible thin wire tied to it.
"Copper wire really isn't as good as rubber cord," he muttered.
He was practicing an advanced form of the Manipulated Shuriken Technique—attaching a line so he could reel it back in, or make it curve mid-flight in certain situations.
All to make his shuriken work more flexible.
"This is to get you ready for the next technique," Rogue Kiyohara said.
Normally, the line would be rubber cord or steel wire—rubber specially made for extreme toughness.
But… that rubber didn't tolerate high temperatures.
"You haven't forgotten the Uchiha clan's Fire Release: Dragon Fire Jutsu, have you?" Rogue Kiyohara went on.
"No," Kiyohara shook his head.
Dragon Fire had appeared in the original during Sasuke's chūnin exam—flames traveling along wires clamped between the hands.
"Right. That jutsu doesn't only have to use fire—it works with lightning too," Rogue Kiyohara said.
Copper wire is a metal conductor with low resistance.
Channeling a technique through it could double the effect for half the effort.
"Alright, I'll keep at it."
Kiyohara flicked the shuriken at a wooden board in the yard. It missed the edge by a hair, then with a twist of his wrist, the wire jerked.
The shuriken curved, circling the board along the copper wire, wrapping tightly around it.
He formed seals; a surge of Lightning chakra raced down the wire.
Crackle!
Faint arcs danced along the copper, burning dark rings into the wood.
"What should I call this technique?" Kiyohara wondered, watching the effect.
He decided on: Lightning Release: Manipulated Shuriken Lightning Conduction Technique.
Not bad—his naming sense was definitely better than Minato's.
He felt very satisfied.
~~~
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