Kiyohara shut off the water, quickly toweled himself dry, and changed into a clean ninja outfit.
When he opened the door, he indeed saw Kurenai standing at the gate of the little yard, with Genma leaning against the doorframe beside her, senbon in his mouth.
"Kurenai, Genma—what are you two doing here?"
Kiyohara was a bit surprised.
Kurenai blinked her signature red eyes and said, "We heard you're taking the chūnin selection today. Genma and I happened to be free, so we figured we'd come see how much you've really been hiding."
Genma shifted the senbon to the other side of his mouth and mumbled, "See if you've been secretly grinding behind our backs."
"Then let's go together. Don't want to be late," Kiyohara said.
The three of them walked toward the exam grounds.
As they went, more and more people appeared on the street—many heading the same way: candidates and support staff.
Taking advantage of the walk, Kiyohara struck up an inner conversation with Rogue Kiyohara.
"About the Willbook…
"You said before that when you were alive, you also received last wishes from other 'possible' futures, right?"
"Yeah," Rogue Kiyohara replied.
"The first time was when I was escorting some intel for Orochimaru and ran into an ambush from another village. I barely escaped, badly injured… and then, suddenly, it appeared in my mind."
His tone turned a little nostalgic.
"That future was a cultist of some evil god—call him 'Follower Kiyohara.' His only last wish was to experience a deep, unforgettable pain.
"So I… self-inflicted enough to fulfill it. Unfortunately, he didn't have any real power. All I got out of it was a small boost to my mental energy."
Rogue Kiyohara continued slowly.
"Figured as much," Kiyohara thought, then asked:
"So that means it's possible I might receive a Willbook from a future version of me with a bloodline limit?"
This was the part he cared about most.
If the Willbook anchored to "Kiyohara" as an existence, then theoretically any Kiyohara who'd won the genetic lottery—special talents, bloodline limits, clan cheats—could become a source of power for him.
Rogue Kiyohara fell silent for a bit, as if digging through memories, then said:
"In theory… maybe. I never figured out the mechanism. In my case, the two Willbooks I got were about a month apart. I have no idea what rule governs that.
"It might be soon, it might be ages. After the second one, I never saw a third before I died, because I hadn't finished the second wish yet."
"I see—only one Willbook at a time," Kiyohara said, rubbing his chin.
"Probably," Rogue Kiyohara added. "And even then, what you inherit is random. It could be some combat experience, a feel for a chakra nature, maybe some of their chakra reserves. What I got back then were mostly that 'me's last scraps of technique."
"As for bloodline limits…"
His voice turned uncertain.
"I've never encountered a future with one, so I can't say. Even if such a future exists, whether it can be inherited through the Willbook, and how much, is totally unknown."
Kiyohara digested that in silence.
So the Willbook was powerful, but not some infinite wish-granting machine.
It was more like a treasure chest that opened at random—what you pulled depended on luck.
For now, Rogue Kiyohara's "inheritance" was more than enough to keep him busy and gave him enormous support.
Otherwise, after Kannabi Bridge, Konoha's Memorial Stone might already have another weightless name carved on it—"Kiyohara"—and Kakashi would be visiting that grave too.
"I get it," Kiyohara nodded.
Whatever the limits, this future-borne experience was priceless.
"So what happens to you when I finish?" he asked the key question.
"From what I've seen, once the wish is fulfilled, my consciousness will disappear and sink back into the urn. I won't be able to come out again, and the urn itself will steadily fade until it's gone," Rogue Kiyohara said.
"The urns in my mind are already gone. I don't know if there's a way to slow it."
With Rogue Kiyohara answering "I don't know" on half the important bits, Kiyohara resigned himself to figuring things out step by step.
The guy had gotten the power and then died too early to fully study it.
"I'm not dying that early. At least let me live until Boruto," Kiyohara thought.
If he made it to the "unnecessary sequel," he'd have seen all the big story beats of the ninja world—not a wasted trip.
Of course, if he could not die at all, that'd be ideal. He had no interest in becoming the "grandpa" version of himself in someone else's timeline.
"Once I fulfill the wish, I'll wait a month and see if a new Willbook arrives," he decided.
Rogue Kiyohara dove back into the urn; unless Kiyohara actively "knocked" on it with his thoughts, he couldn't sense anything outside.
"We're here—the chūnin selection site. Looks pretty crowded," Kurenai said.
She'd been here last year and passed, becoming a chūnin.
"Yeah."
Kiyohara nodded.
Thankfully, it was wartime—they didn't force you into three-man fixed squads like in Naruto's era. Otherwise, Kakashi never could've become a one-man jōnin.
"So nostalgic," Genma muttered, taking the senbon from his mouth. His uncle was serving as a proctor here, and every time he saw Genma chewing on something, he'd smack him around for "never acting serious."
"What's there to be nostalgic about?" Kurenai said, shaking her head.
The building ahead had been temporarily designated as the exam hall.
Because it was war, the process was stripped down: no written test, no team missions—just straight combat evaluations to judge each participant's overall ability.
Every genin here had either shone on the battlefield already, or been personally deemed chūnin material by a jōnin captain.
"Let's head in," Kiyohara said.
Inside, he saw about a dozen genin gathered, the atmosphere slightly tense.
They were all competitors, and slots were limited.
Some would go up. Some would be turned away.
With stakes like that, no one was in the mood for small talk.
"Genma and I will go grab seats in the stands," Kurenai said quietly, her voice clear and crisp.
"Go ahead—and bring me some snacks. You're here to watch my show; you can at least pay a bit of 'admission,' right?" Kiyohara said with a small grin.
He wasn't about to use his own money.
"What do you want?"
"Hmm… three bags of chips, two bottles of red bean mochi drink, and if possible, three skewers of dango," he said.
Kurenai's eyes went wide.
Shameless.
So he's treating this like a resupply run, huh?
~~~
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