Kiyohara barely felt the days pass. One blink, then another, and the final day was already here.
After several rounds of tinkering, rogue-nin Kiyohara finally poured a brown liquid into a clear pouch and sealed it shut. Looking at the soft, sloshing bag in his hand, Kiyohara felt a strange sense of déjà vu. For one absurd moment, it reminded him of the bitter herbal medicine from his previous life.
"Drink this, and it'll strengthen your body and raise your chakra reserves," the rogue Kiyohara said. "Conservatively speaking, it'll double what you have now."
"Double?" Kiyohara's eyes lit up. "That's incredible."
If his base was small, then doubling it really was a terrifying improvement. His rank might still be genin, but in actual combat strength, that would push him into the upper range of chunin. And once he had enough chakra, the rest became much simpler. Techniques were important, of course, but raw numbers mattered too. If the engine was big enough, even a brick could hit like artillery.
He couldn't help thinking of monsters like Six Paths Naruto. A Sage's body, a tailed beast's chakra, sage power layered over sage power, then the Six Paths on top of that. That kind of existence was basically a pile of impossible stats stacked into one person.
Still, greed rose fast in the human heart.
"I remember Takigakure has a forbidden drug called Hero Water," Kiyohara said. "The one that can boost chakra by ten times."
He remembered it from the anime. Drink it, and your chakra would explode upward. The downside was simple too: you'd die.
"That's true," the rogue Kiyohara said, shaking his head. "Used in tiny amounts, it might save a life. But Takigakure still has the Seven-Tails guarding it."
As if he had never thought about it.
They were nowhere near strong enough. Even someone at Kage level wouldn't dare claim absolute certainty against a tailed beast. Those monsters could erase mountains with a single Tailed Beast Bomb. That was why every village treated them as war weapons.
Hashirama Senju had once believed that distributing the tailed beasts would create a balance between nations and bring peace to the world. The idea sounded noble. Reality had slapped it in the face. The moment Hashirama died, the ninja world plunged back into war, just like an empire that only knew how to hold together under one overwhelming ruler.
"You're right," Kiyohara muttered.
He realized he was getting restless again. But that was normal. As long as he kept receiving wills from dead versions of himself and merging with them one after another, he would become a numerical monster sooner or later. There was no need to rush toward death chasing miracles he couldn't possibly grab.
"All right," he said. "Let's do this."
He took out a kunai, slit open the sealed pouch, and tipped the entire thing into his mouth.
Bitter.
That was his first thought.
Then pain hit.
A headache so violent it felt like someone had driven a wedge into his skull and was splitting it apart from the inside. Kiyohara dropped into a crouch, both hands clamped over his head, teeth locked tight as he fought not to scream.
The rogue Kiyohara had said there would be headaches. He had not said it would hurt this much.
"Your chakra is increasing right now," the rogue Kiyohara said calmly. "The headache is your brain reacting while chakra is being generated."
This forbidden medicine was based on yang chakra principles. Certain herbs reacted with the human body, producing a special form of chakra that nourished the flesh. As physical energy rose, chakra reserves rose with it. Crude in theory, violent in practice, effective all the same.
Kiyohara stayed crouched there for a long time. Sweat soaked his back. His breathing came out ragged, shallow, almost panicked.
Then the pain began to ebb.
Warmth spread through his limbs, soaking into his muscles and bones. It felt like sinking into a hot spring after ten filthy days on the road, like every dried-out corner of his body was being soaked back to life. The contrast was so intense it was almost intoxicating.
When the medicine had fully settled, Kiyohara slowly straightened.
He flexed his fingers.
A new kind of strength hummed inside him.
Without wasting time, he stepped into the courtyard and formed the seals again, still using the same three he was most familiar with: Xu, Wu, You.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
He exhaled.
A violent blast of wind tore from his mouth and swept through the yard. Pebbles on the ground were ripped up and hurled forward, smashing into the courtyard wall with a loud crack. One stone punched a clean hole into the plaster before shattering into powder.
Kiyohara stared at the damage and felt his pulse jump.
"As expected," he thought, "the more chakra you can output, the more terrifying the power becomes."
It was the same principle behind the legends. Madara Uchiha's Fire Release had once been so overwhelming that it took a coordinated squad of water-style users to resist it. Against enough chakra, technique alone stopped being elegant and started becoming natural disaster.
After all, Madara had fought Hashirama Senju. He had even used the Nine-Tails like a war mount and still battled with his own reserves. Just imagining that level of chakra was enough to make ordinary people despair.
Then a sharp stab of pain flashed through Kiyohara's skull again.
He hissed and pressed a hand to his temple.
So that was the price.
Fortunately, it was a reversible one. According to the rogue Kiyohara, the side effects would fade after three months. Compared to dying at Kannabi Bridge, a few months of headaches was almost too generous.
"If I take it again after three months, will it still work?" Kiyohara asked.
"It won't," the rogue Kiyohara said. "The first time is the best you'll ever get. After that, the body adapts."
No free lunch in this world. The medicine only squeezed out the body's existing potential. Once that hidden reserve had already been drawn out, there was no second miracle waiting behind it.
That was also why Orochimaru cared so obsessively about Sasuke's body. Talent mattered too much. A truly excellent vessel could keep going higher. A mediocre one would hit the ceiling quickly, even with shortcuts.
"So that's the end of that."
Kiyohara bent down, picked up a loose stone about the right size, and shoved it into the hole he'd blown in the wall. It sat there crookedly, ugly as sin, but it would do for now.
"Then the next step is ninjutsu training."
He took out the scroll where he had recorded the techniques the rogue Kiyohara remembered. There were two lightning techniques and three fire techniques on it. After looking through them, he quickly settled on the one that suited the coming battlefield best.
"Lightning Release: Earth Walk."
The Kannabi Bridge operation would take place among forests and valleys. Narrow terrain, limited footing, dead angles everywhere. A technique that sent irregular currents skittering across the ground would be hard to dodge in a place like that. Even if it didn't kill, forcing the enemy to hesitate for a moment in battle could mean the difference between life and death.
So Kiyohara began to practice.
He trained until his chakra ran low, then trained again after resting. He memorized the circulation route, the timing, the release pattern. Every mistake left a deeper impression than success. His body ached, his temples throbbed, and the warning sting from the forbidden medicine kept surfacing at inconvenient moments, but he gritted his teeth and kept going.
Because he didn't have a choice.
The next morning, Kiyohara put on the chainmail liner he had bought and changed into a fresh set of clothes. He checked his pack one last time: weapons, supplies, medicine, lime powder, spare tools. Then he slung it over his shoulder and headed for the agreed meeting point.
He wasn't the first to arrive.
"Obito's late again," Kakashi said flatly the moment Kiyohara came within earshot.
"He's probably helping some old lady carry groceries somewhere," Genma said around the senbon at the corner of his mouth.
Kiyohara glanced around. "Where's Kurenai?"
"Up ahead, making final preparations," Genma replied, pointing off to the side.
Sure enough, Kurenai Yuhi was there checking and rechecking what she needed to bring. Her movements were brisk, serious, without a trace of sloppiness. War had a way of sanding away the softness from everyone.
"Kiyohara. Rin. Go find Obito," Minato said.
He didn't call Kakashi, which made perfect sense. At a time like this, sending Kakashi to fetch Obito would only create unnecessary friction. Better to keep the team from splintering before the mission even began.
"Yes, Minato-sensei," Rin answered at once.
Kiyohara nodded too. He had no objection. In fact, he was a little curious. He had never actually been to the Uchiha district before. This was as good a chance as any to see it for himself.
More than that, he suddenly remembered an old scene from the original story.
Obito once had a photo of Team Minato. He liked Rin so much it bordered on the embarrassing. Kakashi had once seen him fussing over that picture, and the memory instantly surfaced in Kiyohara's mind with painful clarity.
What exactly was Obito doing right now?
"Let's go, Rin," Kiyohara said.
"Mm."
Rin jogged lightly to catch up beside him.
Meanwhile, inside the Uchiha district, Obito had already forgotten heaven and earth.
He was going to the battlefield today. Before leaving, he wanted to relax a little. So he had taken out the group photo of Team Minato, the one with Minato Namikaze, Kakashi, Rin Nohara, and himself standing together.
He stared at it, eyes lingering shamelessly on Rin's image, his whole expression softening into the kind of foolish tenderness only a boy in love could wear.
If Kiyohara's memory was right, then whatever Obito was doing in there... it probably wasn't something he should ever let Rin see.