Kiyohara stared at the ninja blade hovering in midair, rubbing his chin.
What should he call this technique?
Or rather—if he could "pilot" a sword, maybe he could try other things too.
He released the magnetic force. The blade dropped neatly back into his hand.
"As expected, a streamlined blade doesn't have that much air resistance… but it's still not the best flying shape," he thought.
"If I cared purely about speed and stability, a spindle-shaped 'flying dagger' or a ring would be more aerodynamic. A ring in particular is very stable—easy to keep balanced and spinning."
As for the sword's current form—
Kiyohara weighed the long blade in his hand.
He quickly rejected the idea of immediately modifying it.
Right now he was only testing the concept. Using an existing sword was more practical.
And in close combat, a sword still mattered—he couldn't sacrifice its cutting function just for flight.
Still, maybe he could build a dedicated set of magnet-guided tools later: lighter, more streamlined flying blades.
With that idea, he pulled out a shuriken.
He constructed a ring-shaped rotating magnetic field around it.
That rotating field would interact with the shuriken's own magnetization. Based on inherited experience, Kiyohara knew this would create a thrust force perpendicular to both the rotation plane and the magnetization direction.
By changing the rotation axis and spin rate, he could control the shuriken's direction and speed.
It sounded unreliable, but in the shinobi world everything ultimately ran on chakra.
And this was all experience drawn from Magnet Kiyohara.
The shuriken rose from his palm and floated into the air.
Its size and mass were far smaller than a sword, so it was easier to "pilot."
Forward—
Tilt left—
Accelerate—
Several shuriken traced crooked, messy paths through the air. Sometimes they surged forward, sometimes they drifted backward, sometimes they spun in circles like headless flies.
More than once, a shuriken nearly went out of control, whistling past Kiyohara's body close enough to raise goosebumps and cold sweat.
This demanded far more delicate chakra control and mental focus than the electromagnetic coin, which was a one-time linear launch.
But Kiyohara's eyes only grew brighter.
Failure was expected. Each attempt sharpened his micro-control of magnetism.
Only when the sky darkened further did he finally stop.
He decided to name this still-primitive, far-from-finished technique:
Magnet Release: Object Control Technique.
"Rasa and Gaara probably do something like this too," Kiyohara mused, remembering how they could casually manipulate seas of gold dust or sand.
He even started imagining an absurd nickname: "Sandburst Kiyohara"—except he'd be controlling iron sand or gold dust, not ordinary sand.
Of course, reaching Orochimaru's level of effortless, stylish "flying sword kills" was still a long road away.
Many of his ideas remained stuck at the "concept" stage.
Chakra control and chakra reserves were two mountains he couldn't ignore.
"I knew you'd be training out here."
Kurenai appeared from nowhere, one hand on her hip, wearing a smug little expression like she'd caught him red-handed.
"No wonder you keep pulling out new tricks—so you really are seeing the ninja world at 4 a.m. every day!"
She'd thought Kiyohara was joking last time.
Now she suspected he hadn't been.
Already talented, and still grinding this hard—ridiculous.
"Of course. All my strength comes from effort," Kiyohara said.
(Plus the effort of future versions of himself.)
He didn't say that last part out loud—choosing, kindly, to keep it to himself.
These days, aside from mandatory missions, he trained whenever he could.
Partly to get stronger fast, partly to survive long enough for the next Willbook.
It was still half a month away. He had to make it through.
"Next time you train, you have to call me. No more secretly grinding. If we grind, we grind together," Kurenai huffed.
She was already imagining Genma's dumbfounded face when she and Kiyohara left him in the dust.
So this was the feeling of "getting rich quietly."
From today on, Kurenai would work hard too.
"Fine. Next time I'll call you," Kiyohara agreed.
Training with Kurenai didn't hurt anything. Having a pretty girl practicing nearby was good for morale, honestly.
But for truly sensitive training, he'd still go alone.
Some things had to stay hidden.
For example, Leaf-Style: Willow wasn't something he could openly display.
"Only 'next time'?" Kurenai leaned in close, lifting her lashes to look at him.
"I'm going back to rest," Kiyohara said.
Chakra ultimately came from stamina. If stamina ran out, you rested.
Training required balance. Only freakishly tough bodies like the Might father-and-son duo—or Lee—could recover quickly.
"Tch… fine," Kurenai said, looking at the sweat on his skin and the damp strands of hair sticking to his face. She could only nod.
That jerk…
Even drenched in sweat, he still looked annoyingly good.
Her mind wandered in a direction she didn't like.
They started walking back together, and halfway there, someone approached from the distance.
A guy in a jacket, looking like a trendy delinquent, strolling up with one hand in his pocket, flicking his hair as he walked—something stuck in his mouth, just like Genma.
Asuma Sarutobi.
Kiyohara noticed Asuma was chewing on the plastic stick from a lollipop.
So he hadn't turned into a full-time smoker like his father yet.
"Asuma? What are you doing here?" Kurenai asked, surprised.
"My mission route passes through here, so I stopped by," Asuma said.
Even the Hokage's son had to do missions.
The only difference was: he didn't get assigned the truly suicidal ones.
With one communication jutsu, his mother—Biwa Lake Sarutobi, a major figure in Konoha's medical administration—could pull strings and land Asuma something safe.
No one dared complain.
Who was going to argue with the Hokage's wife and Konoha Hospital's top authority?
"Should we go complain to Hiruzen?" Yeah, right.
"Rin—were you two training just now?" Asuma asked, face casual.
But inside, alarm bells were screaming.
Genma hanging around Kurenai didn't worry him.
But he absolutely refused to tolerate someone handsomer than him showing up.
He'd liked Kurenai since Academy days—quietly decided she was the love of his life—and planned to pursue her aggressively.
~~~
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