Kiyohara couldn't help wondering, Will there ever be a "Six-Armed Spider Kiyohara" in my future?
And… does his future even have to stay human?
Maybe a "Toad Kiyohara" or a "Giant Lizard Kiyohara" was possible too.
Come to think of it—Mt. Myōboku's Sage Mode is theoretically best suited for toads… Kiyohara mused.
Because whether you succeed or fail there, you inevitably undergo "toadification."
Even Naruto at his most "perfect" still had those toad-like eye markings.
Jiraiya's transformation was even more pronounced.
At the core, it was because Myōboku's senjutsu was created by toads, not humans.
Toads who cultivate senjutsu don't suffer side effects—if anything, it extends their lifespan.
There was the Great Toad Sage who lived for over a thousand years, and Fukasaku and Shima who were around eight hundred.
If a "Toad Kiyohara" who mastered senjutsu ever showed up… would the Myōboku senjutsu he inherited be the most "perfect" version?
Kiyohara didn't know how the inheritance would actually work.
He thought for a moment, then saw Rin finish stabilizing the prisoner and start snapping a few straight branches.
He and Kakashi moved in sync, using the branches and tough vines to quickly build a crude stretcher and lash Kidōmaru securely to it.
No more delays.
Kiyohara and Kakashi took turns carrying the stretcher, hurrying back toward the Konoha outpost.
By evening, they were back.
When Kiyohara, Kakashi, and Rin dragged the barely-breathing Kidōmaru into the forward base, they inevitably caused a small commotion.
The logistics shinobi responsible for receiving prisoners and spoils couldn't help staring at Kidōmaru's abnormal six arms—and the brutal injuries that were clearly the result of overwhelming force—before glancing back at Kiyohara and his team.
"Land of Rice Fields… Six-Armed Spider clan…" the clerk muttered.
After inspecting the few items recovered from Kidōmaru and hearing Kiyohara's report, the officer nodded, a hint of approval in his voice.
"The Six-Armed Spider clan is troublesome. Their webbing and secret arts are nasty. Capturing him—good work."
After verification and assessment, their mission pay and bonus merit were issued quickly.
Because Kidōmaru had a special constitution (hiden techniques) and might carry valuable intel, the reward was substantial—well above a typical C-rank, even rivaling B-rank payouts.
They were given the maximum: 200,000 ryō.
Kiyohara found it almost ironic.
Kidōmaru wanted to sell them to other nations—yet in the end, he was the one being sold.
On top of that came merit points.
The moment the payment was split, Kiyohara didn't hesitate. He went straight to the jutsu exchange office.
During wartime, to boost shinobi strength, the village opened limited access to mid- and high-level techniques—so long as you had enough merit.
He'd already chosen a B-rank Lightning Release: Lightning Release: Furious Thunder Arrow.
It gathered Lightning chakra in the right hand, then fired multiple arrow-shaped blue lightning bolts from the palm.
It was similar to "Lightning Release: Lightning Arrow," but with slightly higher power.
Kiyohara wanted it for the range and burst damage—something to compensate for his lack of strong long-range attacks, and to complement his Magnet Release close-quarters kit.
Iron sand could be fast, but it was still a physical substance.
It had mass, and pushing more of it cost more chakra.
Even chakra lightning couldn't compare to real thunder, but it was still much faster than iron sand.
The exchange was smooth.
They didn't simply hand him a scroll. A specialist explained the technique and allowed him to copy key parts—specifically to prevent leakage.
His merit points dropped by more than half.
He considered it completely worth it.
As he left the exchange office, a logistics worker called out and handed him a small pouch.
"Chunin Kiyohara, this month's wartime stipend. Please sign here."
"Thanks," Kiyohara said.
Right on schedule—today was the day he collected the "basic allowance."
It was the village's baseline stipend for all deployed shinobi. Not huge, but in a resource-strained war it was still meaningful—enough to keep you fed and your gear maintained.
Otherwise, relying only on mission rewards would leave many shinobi starving.
Some rear-line support types barely got any missions at all.
Kiyohara weighed the pouch, listening to the faint rustle of paper notes inside, and decided to treat himself.
Fire Country used both coins and banknotes.
Village-issued notes usually bore the Konoha's mark.
Since there were no missions that afternoon, Kiyohara headed to the nearby transit town.
Beyond combat supplies, it had entertainment meant to relieve a shinobi's stress—food, alcohol, daily goods… and even places with "adult" services.
Of course, plenty of upright shinobi strictly followed the "three shinobi abstinences" and never touched those spots.
"Boss, one serving of your signature tender chicken," Kiyohara said.
"Got it! Coming right up!"
The owner worked fast. Moments later, a piece of chicken bigger than Kiyohara's face landed in his hands—wrapped in oil paper, dripping with fragrance from fat and spices.
After days of soldier pills and rations, it felt like heaven.
Kiyohara was about to find a quiet corner to eat when he spotted Tsunade coming out of a nearby casino—her expression not great.
She happened to pass him, then stopped dead and sniffed hard.
"Huh? That smells amazing!"
Kiyohara turned—
Blinding blonde hair.
And a body so voluptuous it would stop any man in his tracks.
Her figure didn't lose a bit of impact just because her gambling went poorly. Her chest looked like it might burst her top, and her light-blue cropped pants made her hips and thighs look even more striking.
Tsunade's bright eyes locked onto the chicken first, then flicked up to his face.
"Kid, you just got back from a mission?" she asked, in her usual blunt tone.
"Yes, Tsunade-sama," Kiyohara nodded.
One look told him she'd probably lost her money again.
Dinner was likely coming out of Shizune's pocket—again.
"And? How'd it go?" Tsunade asked.
She was talking about the mission, but her gaze never left that glistening, fragrant chicken.
Kiyohara noticed.
He also remembered reading that Tsunade liked strong liquor… and chicken.
After a brief thought, he held it out.
"Tsunade-sama, please—have some."
Cast a long line to land a big fish.
Right now he desperately needed a powerful backer—someone who could reduce the hassle and suspicion that would inevitably come once more bloodlines started surfacing around him.
This time Tsunade looked genuinely surprised.
She'd only meant to look. She didn't expect the kid to be this smooth.
She raised an eyebrow and took it, giving him a measuring look.
"Oh? You're pretty good at taking care of people, huh."
She didn't bother pretending. She bit into it hard.
Oil gleamed at the edge of her full lips. She narrowed her eyes in satisfaction, chewed, and mumbled, "Mmm—this is good!"
After two bites, she seemed to remember it had been his meal. She looked at the big bite marks, then at Kiyohara standing beside her with a neutral face.
A flicker of awkwardness crossed her, but she refused to lose face. So she shoved the chicken back toward him.
"Here. You eat too. Don't just stand there watching me."
Kiyohara shook his head. "Go ahead, Tsunade-sama. I'm not hungry."
Truth was, he'd just wanted a break—he wasn't desperate for food.
Tsunade misread it as politeness or deference and frowned.
"I told you to eat. That's an order. Refueling is part of a shinobi's job!"
Kiyohara stared at the chicken—now clearly marked with her teeth—fell silent for a beat, then took it.
He bit carefully on the untouched side.
"…It really is good," he said honestly.
Tsunade nodded like she'd won something, then polished off the rest in a few quick bites.
Only after she swallowed did it hit her—
They'd both eaten from the same piece.
Her expression stiffened for a split second, then she cleared her throat and pushed the embarrassment straight onto him.
"Well? What—are you shy now?"
"Not at all," Kiyohara said flatly.
"Yeah? Really—" Tsunade leaned in, trying to catch his expression.
Then her eyes drifted, irresistibly, to the money pouch on his waist—freshly issued, still "warm."
"Ahem. Kid… your pouch looks fuller than last time. You just got your stipend?"
"Yes," Kiyohara answered.
Tsunade's eyes lit up. The last trace of awkwardness vanished under a far more practical need.
She rubbed her fingers together, smiling in a way that—at least to Kiyohara—looked faintly dangerous.
"So… you didn't forget our deal from before, right?"
Here it comes, Kiyohara thought.
"My hands are kinda tight right now. I just need something to keep things moving, you know? Don't worry—I'll pay you back."
Kiyohara silently reached into his pouch and pulled out 70,000 ryō, then handed it over.
Some of it was mission pay, some of it was stipend.
Now Tsunade was really surprised. She'd borrowed from plenty of people, but someone handing it over this easily was rare.
Even Jiraiya was hard to borrow from at this point—everyone knew she could borrow money, but not necessarily return it.
Tsunade held the cash, looking at Kiyohara's young, handsome face like it had suddenly become a lot more pleasant.
"Relax, I'm not just taking it for free. If you've got questions about medical ninjutsu or taijutsu, come ask me later. I'll have time in a few days—or just pick a time and come find me."
Kiyohara nodded. He'd keep the channel open.
"All right. If you've got nothing else, get back to your stuff," she said, waving him off.
Then, pocketing the money, she marched right back toward the casino doors with renewed confidence—clearly ready to run it back and "win everything she lost."
For a moment, Kiyohara seriously considered betting against her and winning it back.
But he knew casino games were complicated and rigged in plenty of ways.
"Focus on what matters," he told himself.
First: master Furious Thunder Arrow, complete Steel Release Kiyohara's first wish, and inherit Steel Release.
Steel Release was a solid ability in his eyes—an insurance policy that could save his life.
Because most shinobi were basically… glass cannons.
With that decided, Kiyohara turned and headed back toward the temporary tent assigned to him, ready to spend the time drilling his new Lightning technique.