The rest of the exam went by without much surprise. Hyūga Tetsu, with his Byakugan, defeated his opponent with ease, as expected.
There's a reason that after the Uchiha clan's downfall, Hyūga Hiashi could stand before the entire Allied Shinobi Forces and declare, "The Hyūga are the strongest clan."
They might lack top-end monsters, but they have a built-in floor.
To awaken the Sharingan, you need someone close to you to die—or your parents.
For the Hyūga, as long as you train properly, ninety-nine percent will awaken the Byakugan. The rare ones who don't get quietly pushed into a side branch.
In Itachi Shinden, it's said that the "Kohinata" clan are really distant Hyūga relatives, but aside from the throwback Kohinata Mukai, none of them can awaken the Byakugan anymore.
Still, the Byakugan's evolution line… is way too vague, Kiyohara thought, shaking his head inwardly.
Its "upgrade" skips too far. There's no gradual middle stage—just straight from Byakugan to the "Tenseigan" that can slice the moon in half.
The Sharingan at least has small stages and big stages, culminating in the Rinnegan.
But anyone who plays the Sharingan to its full potential tends to have a very thin family registry.
Soon, while Kiyohara waited, the final match wrapped up. The proctor called everyone who passed to gather in the center of the arena.
The successful genin stood in a line, most of them wearing excited, hopeful expressions.
Kiyohara stood among them, listening as the proctor delivered the standard speech about the Will of Fire.
Being promoted to chūnin just meant you'd been upgraded to a more advanced tool.
Unless you entered Konoha's true leadership or took real power inside a department, even a jōnin was, before the village's war machine, just an elite "employee" sent out on missions.
After his speech, the proctor began calling names and handing out the green flak vests and new forehead protectors that symbolized chūnin status.
The hitai-ate were the same as the ones given at graduation—just with a longer cloth strap.
When Kiyohara's name was called, he stepped forward steadily, extended both hands, and accepted the gear as the proctor, eyes approving, passed it to him.
The dark green chūnin vest, and the forehead protector that marked him as a shinobi of Konoha, were placed directly into his hands.
Along with them came a document: his official chūnin certificate.
He couldn't help admiring the efficiency. The only part that seemed freshly printed was his name; everything else looked long-prepared.
He could feel the texture under his fingers when he brushed the surface.
Nice. The craftsmanship was solid.
From this moment on, he was officially a chūnin of Konoha—someone with a real "face" in the village.
At the same time, he suddenly felt something and looked toward Rogue Kiyohara.
The phantom spirit was beginning to emit a soft, pure light.
It wasn't blinding; on the contrary, it carried a gentle warmth like sunlight on a winter day.
For a moment, the previously translucent features sharpened, becoming clearer.
Kiyohara could almost see the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth—subtle but undeniably real. A smile of someone who had finally put everything down and found peace.
Kiyohara understood.
A last wish is just a person's greatest obsession before they die.
Rogue Kiyohara's existence really did resemble the "bound spirits" people talked about—a soul that lingered because of unresolved regret. Once it was fulfilled, the spirit could be freed.
Only, this "ghost" wasn't going to any Pure Land.
He was returning everything he had… back into the "anchor" that was Kiyohara.
"My wish is fulfilled… From here on… you're on your own…"
Rogue Kiyohara's consciousness slowly unraveled, collapsing into a single point of light. His voice flickered in Kiyohara's mind, increasingly faint and broken.
In the next instant, the warm radiance sank into Kiyohara's body like snowflakes into a fire, silent and complete.
Like a hundred rivers running back to the sea.
Like a tired bird returning to the forest.
It felt utterly natural—no resistance at all, as if this had always been how it was meant to be.
Kiyohara stood where he was, quietly feeling the strange sensation.
There was no earth-shattering spectacle—just a quiet transformation taking place inside.
The first thing he noticed was a marked change in his mind.
It felt as if a slightly murky pool had been fed by fresh spring water and become clear and transparent in an instant.
His thoughts flowed faster. His senses sharpened. The sounds around him—breathing, air currents, even the faint whispers of spectators in the distance—were all crisper.
More importantly, he could feel that his total mental energy had taken a solid step up.
That greater, denser spiritual power naturally stirred his physical energy as well. As the two melded, the amount of chakra he could refine also rose accordingly.
It was a real, tangible increase—enough to noticeably boost how long he could fight and how many jutsu he could use.
Then there was talent.
He felt his affinity for Wind and Lightning deepen.
Concepts that had been fuzzy before suddenly clicked into place; one spark of inspiration after another flashed through his mind.
His grasp of nature transformation also grew more profound.
If he went back and relearned Lightning Release: Ground Walk now, he could reach his current level in a fraction of the time.
Then came a few fragmented memories.
In that other timeline, Rogue Kiyohara's life had been very different: years spent in Orochimaru's base, desperate flights from pursuers, a tangled, indescribable feeling toward Konoha…
Those fragments of "Rogue Kiyohara's" life fell into him like broken pieces of a puzzle.
But there weren't many—only a handful of fleeting scenes.
Kiyohara let out a breath of relief.
Thank goodness it didn't overwhelm him; he was still the one in control.
If all those memories fully fused, too many futures would become chains that bound his sense of self.
He'd only been in this world for just over ten years. Faced with futures that had lived for decades—or longer—it would be impossible not to be influenced.
It could easily shock his identity to the core, even make him question, "Who am I?"
Looks like the Orochimaru from that world was even more obsessed with human experimentation—that's how he came up with so many forbidden drugs, and how Rogue Kiyohara got his hands on a few, Kiyohara thought.
From just those glimmers, he could tell those worlds were like parallel lines: not only did he change, the shinobi world itself changed as well.
It felt a bit like a roguelike game.
In any case, after a brief moment of disorientation, Kiyohara opened his eyes again.
The second wish—becoming a legitimate chūnin—was officially complete.
He couldn't help feeling a spark of anticipation.
What kind of person would the next future Kiyohara be?
~~~
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