Thud.
Ao collapsed to the ground, his short spiky blue hair soaked by water, clumping together with his blood.
He stared at Kiyohara in unwilling disbelief, but could only feel his life slipping away, weaker and weaker.
At the same time, Kiyohara regained full control over his body.
"Haa…"
He immediately dropped to one knee, using his sword as a support as he panted heavily.
Having Swordsman Kiyohara force the body through the S-rank Leaf-Style: Willow—far beyond its current limits—had pushed both his mind and flesh to the edge.
Every muscle screamed, his meridians burned with stabbing pain, and his chakra was nearly completely drained.
Too much "subbing in" and there really would be a risk of getting himself a title for it.
When Swordsman Kiyohara got serious, he used 100% of Kiyohara's physical potential.
In other words, if they weren't careful, the backlash wouldn't be far from opening the Eight Gates.
But instead of resting on the spot, Kiyohara pulled out a kunai.
Thock!
He hurled it hard—burying it in Ao's skull.
Finishing blows were a good habit.
"It's finally over," Kiyohara exhaled.
Thankfully, Swordsman Kiyohara's grudge hadn't been against someone too terrifying.
If his future had been something like "barely surviving to the Fourth Great Ninja War, only to get casually kicked to death by Ōtsutsuki Kaguya," then Kiyohara would've had to figure out how to resurrect her first just to finish the wish.
Swordsman Kiyohara's phantom appeared behind him again, like a spirit lingering at his back.
Revenge, done.
Honestly… what he felt most was an empty quiet.
And this Ao wasn't even necessarily the same Ao who'd killed him in that timeline. At best, he'd found a substitute—a stand-in—to fulfill that strongest lingering obsession, that final "last wish."
He looked at the corpse in front of him, fragments of memory flashing quickly through his mind, finally freezing on that fatal strike that had once pierced his own chest.
Back then… he'd been too arrogant, thinking swordsmanship alone could handle everything.
Underestimating the enemy.
Overestimating himself.
"Past me…"
Swordsman Kiyohara's voice rose from the depths of his consciousness.
"All that talk about 'no sword in hand, sword in the heart' is nonsense. If you can get a good weapon, then stack it with the best materials you can."
"I know," Kiyohara said.
That was his future self's hard-earned lesson.
Even now with the newly forged sword, Kiyohara still felt it wasn't quite right.
Someday he'd need his own Kusanagi.
Kusanagi wasn't a single sword, but more of a class—Orochimaru's double-edged blade, Sasuke's straight-bladed version…
"All right. Just don't end up getting 'packaged and sent off' like we did," Swordsman Kiyohara said.
Compared to Rogue Kiyohara, he carried less world-weariness and more sharp, youthful resolve.
He waved once, and his form broke into points of light, melting away like ice under the sun.
Those motes streamed into Kiyohara's body.
The only word he could think of to describe them was "essence."
They fused perfectly with him—water and milk blending into one.
A vast river of information poured into his mind: not only the training method and true essence of Leaf-Style: Willow, but countless flashes of insight about swordsmanship, battle adaptation, and a uniquely refined understanding of the blade.
His spiritual power felt like it had been washed clean and compressed—sharper, denser.
At the same time, a natural affinity for "sword" welled up in him, as if he'd been born to hold one and walk the path of a kenjutsu shinobi.
A cool clarity swept through his brain; all the mental fatigue from the earlier battles and switching control evaporated. His thoughts were clearer than ever.
This was a surge in pure spiritual energy.
And that surge acted as the strongest possible catalyst, triggering a fundamental shift in his body.
The chakra that had been nearly exhausted inside him now trickled back as if a gate had been opened, steadily swelling.
The limbs that had been weak and heavy from overuse started to regain strength; fatigue scattered, replaced by a steadily growing fullness.
"My chakra's gone up again…"
Kiyohara flexed his fingers.
If Kakashi was the benchmark for a standard jōnin unit, then Kiyohara now had just a bit more chakra than Kakashi—somewhere around 1.3 to 1.5 "Kakashi."
And this chakra was real, not theoretical.
Two future versions of himself.
Even without inheriting their full power, the stacking effect was enormous.
Just over a month ago, he'd still been a genin—barely scraping into chūnin-level performance with two lifetimes' worth of experience and some quick wits.
Now, looking at how quickly he'd climbed, even Kiyohara felt a touch of unreality.
This pace was terrifying.
If he had to compare, only Obito's leap—from normal eyes to two-tomoe, then straight from two-tomoe to Mangekyō—looked equally outrageous.
Most people's growth wasn't that dramatic.
Even Sasuke, reincarnation of Indra's chakra, only managed a one-tomoe and then a two-tomoe after being forced by Itachi to watch his entire clan's death on repeat.
After a short rest, Kiyohara moved his hands and feet a little.
His appearance was still ragged—clothes torn and bloody—but inside, he'd changed in ways eyes couldn't see.
The joy from that explosive power-up faded quickly, replaced by calm.
Yes, he'd become much stronger, especially in kenjutsu—that was like a full rebirth.
But that only raised a new problem.
Leaf-Style Kenjutsu: Willow had no explanation.
It was Maruboshi Kosuke's personal creation. Using it openly would invite questions and investigation.
What, he just happened to stumble onto the exact same technique on his own?
Kosuke had simply chosen to remain a genin; the Second Hokage had personally taught him Water Release. The upper ranks—Hiruzen and the rest—knew his strength was anything but ordinary.
And Kiyohara was just a newly minted chūnin.
"It looks like this sword art can only stay as a hidden trump card—for life-or-death moments or when I can guarantee no one's watching," he thought.
He needed sword arts he could use publicly.
"I'll need more war merit—to exchange for official high-level kenjutsu and tilt village resources my way," his eyes narrowed.
"With the credit for killing Ao, a Mist jōnin, that should be enough to apply for advanced sword techniques. Konoha's jutsu archive has to have some good stuff."
Thanks to civilian monsters like Kosuke, Konoha's jutsu library had collected a lot of powerful, non-clan techniques—ninjutsu, taijutsu, kenjutsu, genjutsu, and more.
The village rewarded feats with money and, more importantly, with "Will of Fire" perks—resources, training, recognition.
With enough contributions, you could learn almost anything.
"I wonder how things are going on Kakashi's side," Kiyohara thought.
Before he'd drawn Ao away, Kakashi had gone off alone to hunt down the red eye user—or whatever ability was disrupting the Byakugan.
"Better grab some loot and then head over."
He sheathed his sword and quickly moved to loot the body.
The process would let him recover some chakra while pocketing spoils.
If he rushed over empty and low on chakra, he might not be able to help at all.
~~~
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