A sudden realization struck Kiyohara, and his eyes lit up.
He felt as if everything had become clear.
If a jōnin from a future self could step in at a critical moment, there was a real chance he could snatch his life back!
"Then let's not waste time."
Kiyohara returned to his small room and, under the curious gaze of the missing-nin Kiyohara, produced a blank scroll and a brush.
"What are you doing? Planning to study hard now, hoping to create a 'genius scholar' version of your future?"
the missing-nin asked.
"No, that would be too much trouble," Kiyohara replied seriously. "I only got one jutsu from you. Even if you taught me one-on-one, I wouldn't learn many but if I write them down, I can practice and keep learning them later."
His plan was straightforward: every time a future version of himself appeared, he would record whatever jutsu that future self knew. Over time, he could build an enormous catalog of techniques.
If he didn't do it this way, how could he maximize gains?
Harvesting others is called cutting leeks.
But harvesting yourself—can that even be called cutting leeks?
It was like taking an exam where everyone was cheating, except the answers they copied came from their own minds.
"…."
The missing-nin Kiyohara, whose face showed the wear of many battles, revealed a trace of surprise.
His past self had, it seemed, become a little too capitalistic.
After a moment's thought, the missing-nin still told him the techniques. After all, it was his past self—helping him a bit did no harm.
After the missing-nin recited another jutsu, he suddenly grew still.
"What is it?"
Kiyohara expected the missing-nin was merely trying to recall something.
"Someone's coming."
Even as a spectral projection, he still possessed the keen senses of a jōnin. Otherwise, he would never have managed to survive in the shinobi world to middle age before dying.
Hearing that, Kiyohara put down the scroll and tidied the traces on his desk.
"Kiyohara!"
Sure enough, a short while later someone called his name from outside the door.
He opened it and found a beautiful young woman standing there—her eyes a vivid crimson, like two rubies.
It was Yuhi Kurenai.
"Kurenai."
Kiyohara greeted her.
She was his teammate, along with Shiranui Genma as their third teammate. The three of them made up a small squad.
"These are the soldier pills you asked me to buy," Kurenai said, producing a small pouch and handing it over.
"Thanks, Kurenai."
Kiyohara accepted it.
"How's the rest of your preparation?" she asked.
In a few days they were to join Team Minato for a classified mission. So classified, in fact, that they still didn't know the mission's details yet—only that they were to go to Kannabi Bridge.
Was it to gather intelligence, or to launch an attack? They would only find out on the day, when the leading jōnin revealed the plan.
"Almost ready," Kiyohara nodded.
He didn't have much to bring —just the phantom urn of the missing-nin Kiyohara. At a critical moment he would rely on that future self to keep him alive.
"I really hope the war would end soon," Kurenai murmured. Although barely in her teens, she wore her shinobi gear with a grown, practical air; worry furrowed her brows.
The endless wars were like dark clouds hanging over everyone's hearts. Being a ninja was already a high-risk profession; in wartime, it was just piled catastrophe on top of catastrophe.
"It won't last much longer," Kiyohara said.
The essence of any war is collective violence—using force and weapons to achieve political, economic, or social goals.
The shinobi wars were no exception. After recovering from the wounds of the Second Great Ninja War, the nations once again thought themselves strong.
But this time, every country would be a loser.
Konoha would lose vast numbers of shinobi—so many that even children would be pulled to the front.
Kumogakure would lose their proud Third Raikage.
Kirigakure's Three-Tails would die alongside Nohara Rin.
Iwagakure and Sunagakure would also be left weakened, their ranks depleted.
If even the Five Great Nations suffered so much, the smaller countries were in even worse shape—the Land of Rain being the most tragic, infiltrated until it was full of holes
"How long do you mean by 'not much longer'?" Kurenai pressed.
"Just a few years, I think. Once there's no one left to fight, won't the war stop."
It sounded like a grim joke, but it was the truth.
"That means our comrades will all be dead?" Kurenai paled from how bleak that sounded.
"I think we should worry about ourselves first." Kiyohara said, shaking his head.
"Lord Minato is leading us; shouldn't that be enough?"
Like everyone else, Kurenai placed too much faith in Minato's reputation, believing success was guaranteed.
"On the battlefield, anyone can die. Don't let your guard down, Kurenai." Kiyohara warned.
Nobody in the shinobi world could claim they were immune. Even Sasuke's Six-Tomoe Rinnegan had been blinded by a single kunai. Death was a possibility for anyone.
"All right," she conceded with a nod. "Then I'll be going." And with that she left.
Kiyohara silently watched her go.
The missing-nin Kiyohara's spirit, meanwhile, hovered and watched the exchange between them both.
When confined to the urn, he had no senses and couldn't perceive the outside world.
But once he floated free, he was like a soul again.
"What's your Genjutsu skill like?" Kiyohara asked, turning to him.
He'd noticed the missing-nin had only passed down ninjutsu.
"Terrible," the specter replied.
"Same here." Kiyohara thought it over. Unless a future version of himself turned out to be "Kurama Kiyohara" or "Uchiha Kiyohara," his genjutsu would never be strong. This world was built entirely on bloodline theory!
"Let's continue," Kiyohara urged.
After Kurenai left, Kiyohara again took up brush and scroll and let the missing-nin pass along more jutsu.
It was the only way. Without strength, he couldn't earn military merit. Without merit, he couldn't gain new techniques.
Konoha had already set up a vicious cycle for ordinary shinobi.
…
For several days, Kiyohara stayed home practicing ninjutsu.
Through testing, he found his training in Wind Release and Lightning Release had indeed sped up significantly. His comprehension was worlds apart from before.
So, this is what stacking feels like? I love it!
In the courtyard, Kiyohara formed the Earth and Dragon hand seals, then pressed his palms together with a sharp clap.
He gathered wind chakra in his hands, compressing the air pressure.
Whoosh!
A translucent blast of wind shot from his palms, striking a tree stump and leaving deep marks.
He panted heavily.
There was no helping it, even with the fusion, his chakra reserves were limited—he simply wasn't at the level of an elite jōnin.
If one used an elite jōnin like Kakashi's chakra pool as the standard, the missing-nin Kiyohara—who had only recently attained jōnin-level strength in some sense—still couldn't compare.
And the present Kiyohara was just a genin.
Even with the fusion increasing his chakra somewhat, he was still weak.
"Battle between shinobi is a battle of chakra," Kiyohara muttered, rubbing his chin. Until he completed the missing-nin's second wish, he had to use his chakra sparingly.
…
The next day, while still training, Kiyohara was summoned by Minato Namikaze.
When he arrived, he found Obito, Kakashi, and Rin already gathered.
(End of Chapter)