Kiyohara and Yūhi walked side by side along the slightly bustling street of the supply town.
"You're going to deal with those things?"
Kurenai glanced at the sealing scroll strapped to Kiyohara's back and asked softly.
The lollipop in her mouth had already shrunk by nearly a third. The lingering sweetness spread across her tongue, and the tension in her nerves had indeed eased quite a bit.
"Mm. I'm going to exchange them for money and repair my equipment."
Kiyohara replied briefly.
He walked skillfully into a narrow side alley, arriving at the same shop as last time.
Kiyohara placed the sealing scroll on the counter and formed a hand seal to release it.
With a puff of white smoke, a pile of standard-issue Kirigakure armor, shinobi tools, and a handful of miscellaneous personal items appeared on the table.
"Standard Mist Jōnin armor, damaged but made of good materials. Melt it down and reforging should fetch a good price…"
The shopkeeper quoted an amount.
One hundred fifty thousand ryō.
Most of that value came from Ao's well-crafted gear.
Kiyohara was satisfied with the price, then took out the shinobi blade.
"Help me maintain the blade. And add a ring at the end of the handle."
Kiyohara said.
If he could manipulate shuriken and kunai, then why not manipulate a shinobi blade?
Close-range he could wield it by hand; long-range he could throw it!
"Add a ring? Easy. Maintenance plus modification… this price."
The shopkeeper quoted again.
Kiyohara nodded once more and handed over most of the money he had earned from selling the war spoils.
"Do it as soon as possible. And with the remaining money, give me two Fūma shuriken."
He added.
These oversized shuriken were extremely powerful, suited for mid-to-long-range throws and area suppression—highly effective in chaotic battlefields.
"Come pick up the sword by dusk."
Master Yamada took the money and the blade, then retrieved two Fūma shuriken for him.
Kurenai remained quietly at Kiyohara's side, watching him expertly sort out war loot, haggle, and plan out his equipment upgrades. That familiar feeling surfaced again:
'This man is so pragmatic.'
In her eyes, He seemed more like the traditional image of a shinobi than any of them.
"You really are… fully prepared for everything."
She muttered.
Kiyohara sealed the newly bought Fūma shuriken into an empty scroll. Hearing her words, he glanced at her and replied:
"To talk about the future, you have to be alive first."
Kirigakure hadn't launched their full-scale invasion yet, but once they did, the Land of Fire would be crawling with infiltrating Mist-nin.
For example—although the Land of Water was east of the Land of Fire, in the original storyline the location where the Three-Tails was implanted into Rin was near the Land of Grass, which was on the west side of the Land of Fire.
It sounded illogical, but once you remembered it was a trap arranged by Madara, everything made sense.
Otherwise, how could Obito be driven into darkness?
'So… how will Obito fall this time?'
Kiyohara wondered inwardly.
Rin was a good teammate. If possible, he wanted her to stay alive—not only for moral reasons, but also because he could continue learning medical ninjutsu from her.
Currently, the only person he could rely on for medical ninjutsu was Rin.
The truth was… someone like Madara, arrogant to the core, respected no one except Hashirama and his own younger brother Izuna.
His goal was Obito's descent into darkness, and the awakening of the Mangekyō Sharingan—that outcome was all that mattered.
As for the process, whether others lived or died hardly had any value to him.
Kiyohara suspected that if not for Obito, Madara wouldn't have paid any attention to the people around him at all.
"In theory… losing the person who matters most to you isn't limited to losing them through death…"
Kiyohara suddenly recalled the tale of a ruined king: Forever bereft of love, gazing upon ruin
If Obito suffered a shock like that…
Would it be enough to make him fall into darkness?
Kiyohara pondered the possibility.
Perhaps it was better to let Obito fall sooner—so that Madara would stop eyeing him instead.
…
During the following half month, whenever he had time, Kiyohara would visit Rin to study medical ninjutsu and slowly build a bit of rapport.
The rest of the time, he would head to the rear lines to find a safe but isolated spot to train.
This was common among shinobis. Other than chakra, there was one more factor that determined battle outcomes:
Intelligence.
The difference between having intel and lacking it was like heaven and earth. Even Jiraiya sacrificed his life just to uncover intel on Pain.
So, when one trained, others generally respected the unspoken rule and did not disturb them.
Kiyohara's silhouette weaved through the forest, blade slicing through the air.
After inheriting the talent and swordsmanship insights of Youth Kiyohara, his improvement truly advanced at breakneck speed.
Each strike carried the beauty of long, bitter practice.
His foundations were solid.
He repeatedly practiced until his body glistened with a light sweat, his breath deep and steady. Then, once again, he entered that heightened state of concentration.
In the past, Kiyohara would've struggled to reach that state during sword training.
Because this kind of deep focus was itself a talent—the ability to shut out everything else and devote yourself entirely to one action.
And with that state… progress soared.
Kiyohara attempted to control the chakra output of his Lightning Release: Lightning Current, aiming for a level that could be sustained longer.
Ordinary jōnin had chakra roughly equivalent to young Kakashi after receiving his Sharingan—about "one Kakashi unit." As Kakashi aged, this amount increased slightly.
But even then, young Kakashi could use Chidori only about four times.
Only after returning to real training and raising his chakra to elite jōnin levels could Kakashi significantly increase the number of Chidori he could use.
The blade hummed, faint arcs of lightning crawling across the metal edge.
Kiyohara moved.
Shhk-shhk-shhk!
Soft slicing sounds echoed repeatedly. Several thick tree trunks used as training targets were silently split in half, their cut surfaces smooth and clean.
Kiyohara sheathed the blade, panting harder, sweat forming on his forehead.
These twenty days of training had raised his chakra control and concentration demands, but the results were remarkable.
"Next… Leaf-Style Willow."
Kiyohara extracted Yin-nature chakra and fused it into his sword technique.
For a moment, the air seemed filled with dozens of overlapping shinobi blades, flowing in a continuous rhythm.
His silhouette began to flicker.
One hour later, Kiyohara finished training and made his way back to the base.
Over the past half month, he had only been assigned ordinary missions—peaceful, even calm.
But he knew this peace would not last.
The war was intensifying. Every day the front lines saw shinobi die.
Manpower, already stretched thin, was becoming increasingly strained.
And Kiyohara… waited quietly for the next activation of the Last Will System.
According to last month's pattern, he would only need to wait ten more days.
As expected, when Kiyohara returned to the base, he received the mobilization order.
At the center of the base, genin, chūnin, tokubetsu jōnin, and jōnin had all gathered.
Kiyohara arrived among the last group. From afar, he could immediately see the pale youth surrounded by the crowd.
Those golden vertical pupils, the purple lines along his nose, the magatama earrings—
Kiyohara instantly recognized the newcomer's identity.
"You're late, Kiyohara!" Rin waved, smiling. Their bond had grown much closer over the past weeks.
(End of Chapter)