"I'll treat your wounds, Kiyohara."
Rin stepped up immediately, pressing her glowing hands over the puncture in his palm.
Mystical Palm was far more efficient than any self-treatment he could manage.
In just a short while, most of the damage had already closed. Kiyohara couldn't help but marvel—this was the power of A-rank medical ninjutsu.
"Fortunately it missed anything vital—but the injury's still serious. Try not to use this hand too much for the next few days," Rin said softly.
"I know, Rin."
Looking at her gentle expression, Kiyohara couldn't help thinking this kind of soft, kind girl was exactly the type to wreck bottled-up teen boys like Obito.
It made sense he'd never been able to let her go.
In his world, Rin was the only one who'd ever truly paid attention to a dead-last like him.
Konoha's "ghost girl" reputation… was well earned.
Kiyohara nodded and got back to work, deftly looting.
He carefully collected the more intact, bone-white fragments of Kaguya Masaru's remains—particularly those gleaming with that eerie luster—and sealed them into a scroll by themselves.
Then he started going through the other Mist corpses as well.
Kurenai watched, honestly baffled at how Kiyohara could be this perpetually short on money.
When he finished, he did a quick tally.
Ignoring broken armor, he'd managed to salvage four usable Mist flak vests, sixty-two shuriken, ten kunai, and three bags of soldier pills.
Most gear had been destroyed by the fight; this was what was left.
A moment later, Genma and the ninken returned.
"We chased them for a while, but they were on guard and used the terrain along the coast to escape. They headed north," Genma reported, a bit regretful.
Pakkun added:
"The scent's a mess—and there are signs of someone meeting them halfway. Looks like this wasn't the only Mist squad infiltrating the island."
Mei's Boil Release had churned the air badly enough that tracking them any further was impossible.
Kakashi's expression hardened. "We report to Orochimaru-sama. Now."
...
At Uzushio's main camp, inside the command tent—
Orochimaru listened to Kakashi's brief, precise report.
His golden slitted eyes lingered on Kiyohara for a long time, his tongue unconsciously licking across his lips.
"Facing two bloodline users alone… killing a Kaguya ninja and driving off Terumi Mei. Kiyohara-kun, you've surprised me again," he said, voice rasping with a hint of pleasure—like he was admiring an excellent test subject.
"Seems you've gotten the hang of Konoha Body Flicker."
Then he turned to the jōnin in charge of security, tone turning cold.
"Mist's probing has begun. The next waves will only hit harder. Pass word: double the vigilance at all outposts, increase patrol frequency—especially along the coast. We may not be facing just standard Mist forces."
He suspected a full-scale Mist invasion was imminent.
When that happened, all of Uzushio would turn into one giant meat grinder.
If things went badly, they'd have to pull back to the mainland, dozens of kilometers behind, and fall back to a second defensive line.
The assembled shinobi stiffened and answered in unison; tension spiked.
Kiyohara knew this was his moment.
He stepped forward and bowed slightly.
"Orochimaru-sama, I'd like to contribute more to the village. My sensory ability is decent. I'd like to request authorization to carry out more proactive recon or harassment missions—alone or leading a small squad," he said.
"Oh?"
Orochimaru's interest visibly sharpened; his fingers tapped the arm of his chair.
He knew Kiyohara valued his life.
So why ask for more dangerous missions?
A moment later, the answer became clear.
He was above; Kiyohara was below. This was just a bid to extract more benefits.
Leaf Body Flicker had already whetted his appetite.
Kiyohara then presented the collected Kaguya bones and flesh.
"Heh-heh… I like shinobi who act on their own," Orochimaru said after a moment.
He pulled a scroll from his side—a list of intel missions.
"These are all recon tasks. Danger level is moderate. Take a look," he said.
Kiyohara scanned it quickly.
His eyes stopped on one mission:
[Scout the Uzushio rear, Land of Fire coastline.
Note: Suspected Suna forward supply point in the area. Intel suggests Anbu special assassination unit in position.]
The location was relatively isolated, the objective clear—perfect for fulfilling Magnet Kiyohara's first wish:
Kill a Suna Anbu.
And it was something that needed doing anyway.
Mist had already gotten boots on Uzushio's soil; they had to ensure Land of Fire's mainland coastline wasn't infiltrated by more Mist—or anyone else.
A pincer attack from island and shore could cripple Konoha.
Rumors of this scale of war would spread no matter what. Other villages were already watching.
Shinobi battle was as much infiltration and counter-infiltration as it was direct force; they had to hold this line—or get buried.
Kiyohara pretended to think it over, then pointed to that mission.
Orochimaru let out a low, rasping chuckle.
"Very well. Two-day limit. Choose your moment. I expect good news, Kiyohara-kun."
"Yes, sir."
...
That night, the moon hung hazy over the ruins.
Kiyohara left Orochimaru's tent, said his goodbyes to Kurenai and the others, and shot northwest.
He needed to complete the wish quickly, claim Magnet Release, and brace for the harsher battles ahead.
But just as he was leaving the base, a blur of green and a cloud of dust barreled toward him like a hurricane.
"My eternal rival, Kiyohara! To meet by chance under this night sky—it is the perfect time for the flames of youth to clash!"
Might Guy thrust a thumbs-up at him, teeth flashing white in the moonlight, eyes burning beneath those thick eyebrows.
Kiyohara stopped, looking at the hyperactive taijutsu maniac.
He had zero interest in letting their "youth" collide.
"Guy, I've got an urgent mission. We'll race another time," he said.
At the word "mission," Guy's expression snapped serious.
"It's a solo assignment. Secret. Save your youth for the battlefield and unleash it on Mist," Kiyohara added.
At the same time, he realized—if Guy was here, then Might Duy had to be somewhere nearby too.
And with the Seven Swordsmen inbound, that iconic battle from the early canon was close.
He had to get stronger fast if he wanted to survive—or even influence—that coming storm.
Guy in Eighth Gate mode could briefly hit near "Six Paths level" and almost kick the story into its ending.
What about Duy's Eighth Gate?
"I understand," Guy said, face solemn now. He nodded hard.
"Then it's a promise. When we're both done with our missions, we'll settle things. Youth cannot be delayed—but it must be endured. Good luck, Kiyohara!"
He threw another thumbs-up, then vanished as quickly as he'd come, walking off on his hands—balancing on a single finger.
"…Training for Eight Gates really is brutal," Kiyohara thought, watching him.
Even if he somehow acquired it, he doubted he could train like that.
The sheer self-discipline and the body's ability to recover from that level of strain were already practically a "taijutsu body."
Put a normal shinobi through that regimen and their body would collapse in days.
Either that, or they'd do it his way—chems and tech.
Overdo it, and even your speech ends up scrambled.
He'd once heard an overjuiced taijutsu user say: "You can become a great taijutsu ninja without drugs—but a great taijutsu ninja without drugs is… not very likely."
First, finish this mission. Wrap up Magnet Kiyohara's wishes as fast as possible. Only then can I move on to the next one, Kiyohara thought.
His chakra still wasn't where he wanted it; the urgency pressed in on him.
He could barely throw out a handful of jutsu before running dry.
He'd have to keep stacking futures and raising his base stats.
Meanwhile, far out on a lonely island beyond Uzushio's ruins, seven silhouettes had quietly gathered together.
~~~
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