Kiyohara, at this moment, had no idea that two Uchiha had set their sights on him.
What he did know was that Kurenai kept sneaking looks at his body.
He didn't call her out. He just stayed focused on taijutsu training.
If mental energy pulled too far ahead of physical energy, it could create pressure and imbalance.
So he'd been training his body consistently.
The last light of sunset stretched his shadow long across the ground.
He was shirtless, sweat sliding down the defined lines of his back and leaving winding trails across his skin.
Using Magnet Release, he controlled gathered iron sand into solid weight packs, attaching them to his arms and back, then doing push-ups—one after another.
His muscles were taut, veins standing out visibly.
Each rep burned worse than the last, his speed slowing.
That meant he was hitting the limit of his body.
He eased off, taking a brief pause.
Without a taijutsu teacher, he could only do basic conditioning.
Most taijutsu specialists also took supplements after training—following the "train, medicate, recover" cycle.
That was the normal route.
There was also the other route—"juicing."
The shinobi world was advanced; some things classified as "forbidden" among ninja had leaked into civilian circles.
Drugs that forced muscle growth—mostly steroid-type compounds.
The price was… your "basket" shrinking. Less testosterone production, less hardware.
Kiyohara, thinking of his future happiness, had absolutely no intention of taking that route.
If he was going to be a traditionalist shinobi, he was going to be a traditionalist lifter too.
After resting, he strapped the iron-sand weights on again and thought:
Iron sand is still too common—and I don't have enough of it. If I could sense gold dust or other valuable metals… that's the real road to wealth.
He felt a bit regretful.
Unfortunately, his Magnet Release didn't yet allow him to control gold dust. For that, he'd probably have to learn from Rasa.
If he observed how the man used magnetism, maybe he could copy the trick.
Nearby under a tree, Kurenai was practicing genjutsu seals—but she couldn't settle down.
Her gaze kept drifting toward Kiyohara.
Watching his tight muscles flex and swell with each movement, those smooth, powerful lines… her cheeks warmed without warning.
She forced herself to focus, but it wasn't working.
This guy… training like this is way too distracting for other people… she grumbled inwardly.
Just then, Kakashi walked over—silver hair, mask, dead-fish eye.
He glanced at Kiyohara and seemed to think Kiyohara's physique had gotten even better.
Kiyohara felt a faint sense of dread.
Was he becoming one of those gym guys who attracted other guys?
So he asked, "Kakashi. What do you need?"
"Someone's looking for you," Kakashi replied flatly.
Kiyohara paused, released his iron sand, grabbed a shirt to wipe sweat, and pulled it on.
"Who?"
"An Uchiha named Tekka. And another younger one I don't recognize," Kakashi said simply.
"Uchiha?" Kiyohara raised a brow.
Why would Uchiha Tekka—whom he'd beaten before—come looking for him now?
To reclaim face?
But internal fighting was punishable too. In a critical period like this, Tekka couldn't be that stupid.
Unless the Sharingan had gone to his head and he was acting on impulse.
Kiyohara adjusted his clothes.
"Fine. Let's see what this is."
Kurenai hurried after him.
The three of them returned to the camp.
Kiyohara's brow lifted when he saw the boy beside Tekka.
A young shinobi with a short blade on his back, and a slightly larger nose than most.
Kiyohara recognized him instantly.
One of the Uchiha clan's two greatest "double-agents."
Uchiha Shisui.
His talent was as absurd as Itachi's—both were prodigies famous while still young.
Even younger than most, yet his battlefield record was brutal.
In this war, he would earn the title "Shisui of the Body Flicker."
And he'd do it at a shockingly young age.
But perhaps because all his points were invested into combat talent, Shisui was too kind—too naive.
He awakened his eyes, told Itachi, then went alone to Danzō and revealed his Mangekyō.
Danzō robbed him of an eye on the spot.
And Shisui didn't even try to salvage it—didn't use Kotoamatsukami to control Danzō.
He simply tore out his remaining eye, gave it to Itachi, and threw himself off a cliff.
With the clan drowning and enemies waiting to settle accounts, he chose suicide instead of saving his people.
Kiyohara didn't bother with small talk.
"Need something?"
Tekka looked at him, the memory of defeat flashing back, making his posture stiff.
But thinking of Shisui, he forced himself upright.
"Kiyohara. This is my clan-brother, Uchiha Shisui. I want… a spar between you two. Friendly spar. Point-stop."
He emphasized it deliberately.
Kiyohara smiled slightly.
"I don't usually like fighting. It's pointless."
Tekka stared, baffled.
He'd heard Kiyohara had killed plenty at Uzushio. How was he suddenly "not into fighting" now?
When they fought in the chūnin exam ring, hadn't Kiyohara been vicious?
"Sorry. My time's tight," Kiyohara said, already turning as if to leave.
"I have limited life, and infinite contributions to make for the village."
Tekka's eyes widened—and then he understood immediately.
Damn it.
This "born-evil" Kiyohara wasn't busy.
He was demanding benefits.
A shameless "no profit, no action" type.
"Wait!" Tekka blurted.
He thought about his own loss, and about Shisui—already making a name for himself after barely arriving at the front.
Shisui's Phantom Body Flicker was hard to handle even with Sharingan active.
Against Kiyohara, who had no Sharingan at all, it would be like fighting blind.
Since they'd come all this way, he couldn't let Kiyohara walk off.
"This is the stake. If Shisui loses, I'll give you these custom shuriken."
Pain flickered across Tekka's face, but he still pulled out three unusual shuriken from his pouch, cradling them carefully.
Their edges gleamed coldly. Fine grooves traced the four blades.
"These are specially made by the Ninja Cat clan. Material, balance, sharpness—top grade."
"Ninja Cat clan made them?" Kiyohara's interest sparked.
He'd only been half-joking, but Tekka really did have something valuable.
The Uchiha and the ninja cats had deep ties; their forged weapons were famous across the shinobi world.
They were rare, high-quality goods.
The cats treated the Uchiha as honored guests across generations—basically an exclusive Uchiha arms supplier.
"Alright. Deal," Kiyohara said.
He looked at Shisui, who stood quietly with calm eyes.
"Comrades sparring is how people improve, isn't it?"
"Of course," Tekka said, tightening his grip on the shuriken.
So he really just wanted profit, Tekka thought.
Hmph. He's probably underestimating Shisui because he's young.
Tekka's excitement rose.
Now he'd finally get to watch Kiyohara crash and burn.
They agreed: after nightfall, they'd spar at the open ground near the river outside camp.
~~~
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