Orochimaru had once seen Mist shinobi who carried two or three bloodline limits, which proved that the human body's potential wasn't restricted to just one.
"I've thought about it," Kiyohara said. "But it's too hard."
"I was thinking—if I could also incorporate Lightning nature, maybe I could develop stronger electromagnetic control. Or combine Earth with Yang to see if I can strengthen Earth Release techniques."
Even Kakashi turned his head at that, surprise showing in his single visible eye.
Kakashi had once thought creating Chidori was impressive enough.
Turns out there was always someone crazier.
Kiyohara was talking about synthesizing more bloodline limits.
"Kiyohara-kun," Minato said gently. "Developing new jutsu is a good thing, but creating a bloodline limit is extremely difficult. I spent three years constantly experimenting and refining to develop a new technique, and a bloodline limit involves hereditary-level changes. It's not even the same order of difficulty."
Orochimaru, however, held a different view.
Was Kiyohara's ancestry truly "civilian" all the way back?
Decades ago, before Konoha existed—or centuries earlier—where had Kiyohara's forebears lived? What kinds of bloodline limits might have awakened in their history?
All of it was unknown.
Orochimaru also realized Konoha recorded remarkably little history. A man like Uchiha Madara—who had even helped name the village—was spoken of vaguely, with few clear records.
Only a few decades had passed, yet Hashirama and Madara already felt like figures out of legend.
Kurenai and Rin didn't fully grasp the theory, but they could still tell Kiyohara's thinking was astonishing.
"I'm just experimenting," Kiyohara said with a smile—half true, half not. "Even if I fail, the process helps me refine my other nature transformations."
What he was really doing was planting a seed in their minds.
Showing different chakra natures along the way, demonstrating control—this was psychological groundwork.
Once that seed was planted, if he later revealed another unusual ability, people wouldn't jump straight to suspicion. They'd sigh about his effort and assume he might be like the Kaguya line or other rare cases with multiple traits.
Kiyohara's ultimate goal was to make everything about him feel reasonable.
Because shinobi—despite wielding chakra's incredible power—were still human. They hurt. They cried. They laughed. They carried greed, anger, obsession, and flaws.
After all… where there are people, there is the shinobi world.
Orochimaru laughed loudly, his voice echoing inside the earth shelter with a strange delight.
"Interesting, Kiyohara-kun. I like this kind of thinking."
He stepped closer, slit-gold eyes locking onto Kiyohara's.
"I've mastered all seven chakra nature transformations. In theory, I could attempt fusion for any bloodline limit. And yet, in reality, I've created none. Do you know why?"
Kiyohara shook his head.
"Because a bloodline limit isn't just chakra fusion," Orochimaru said, his voice lowering. "It involves the body's compatibility with chakra, expression of hereditary factors, and even the soul's level of alignment. It's a systems-level undertaking—not something as simple as one plus one equals two."
He paused, then shifted tone.
"But if you truly want to walk that path… I can provide some help. In my laboratory I have research materials on chakra natures and bloodline limits. They may be useful to you."
Kiyohara understood: it was bait.
Orochimaru wanted to watch him, study him, and find out what secret lay inside him.
But it was also an opportunity.
After all, his body could support it.
The process of inheriting a bloodline limit was like Ōnoki suddenly comprehending the Second Tsuchikage's Dust Release—a sudden chemical reaction, an abrupt ignition.
"Then I'll be in your debt, Orochimaru-sama," Kiyohara said respectfully.
Outside the earthen shelter, the rain continued.
…
The next day, the caravan moved on.
The rain had eased, but the sky remained gloomy.
Around two in the afternoon, Kiyohara felt something off in his perception.
"There's chakra activity," he said quietly inside the wagon. "Three hundred meters ahead, on the right hillside—five people."
Almost at the same time, Orochimaru opened his eyes.
"Likely Iwagakure."
Minato nodded. "Probably drawn by the caravan. Orochimaru-senpai—let the younger ones get some practice?"
Minato had sensed them earlier as well, and he could tell their signatures weren't especially strong.
Orochimaru licked his lips. "Exactly what I wanted. Minato and I will stand by. Kiyohara—go test yourselves."
The order was given.
The wagons stopped; the merchants panicked and huddled behind the carts.
Five Iwa shinobi appeared on the slope.
They wore earth-yellow uniforms and masks. The two in front were thickly built.
"Konoha escorts?" an Iwa jōnin sneered. "You're sending out kids? Kill them—then we split the cargo!"
The other jōnin was already forming seals.
"Earth Release: Rock Lodging Destruction!"
The ground trembled. Jagged stone spikes rose and surged toward the caravan.
Kakashi shot forward at once, lightning gathering in his hand with the shriek of a thousand birds.
But Kiyohara moved differently.
Instead of charging, he leapt backward more than ten meters, widening the distance.
He formed seals.
"Magnet Release…!"
Black iron sand spilled out of his thermos and shaped itself in front of him.
It condensed into dozens of walnut-sized spindle-shaped projectiles—highly compressed, surfaces smooth like polished stone.
Kiyohara held his hands as if gripping something invisible, lightning flickering between his fingers.
"…Electromagnetic rounds."
A low hum.
The iron-sand rounds hovered and spun. Rings of iron sand around his forearms rotated like coils.
The Iwa shinobi noticed the motion, but didn't understand it.
"What's that brat doing?" one chūnin muttered.
The next second, they understood.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—
The first volley—five rounds—fired.
Electromagnetic acceleration gave them terrifying initial velocity, close to twice the speed of sound, leaving faint blue streaks through the rain.
Supersonic methods were rare.
Canon novels and manga had shown supersonic Wind Release or Lightning Release, but usually only jōnin could manage that—below that rank it was almost impossible.
And even among jōnin, not everyone could reach it.
Three Iwa chūnin didn't even have time to react.
Thud—thud—thud!
A skull cracking, a throat punched through, a chest caved—impact sounds came in rapid succession.
Three bodies fell. Blood mixed with rainwater and spread across the ground.
The two jōnin reacted faster, hardening themselves with Earth Release at the last instant.
The rounds slammed into them with dull, heavy impacts.
Boom—boom!
They staggered backward, coughing blood.
The hardened skin prevented penetration, but it couldn't fully absorb the kinetic energy.
One shattered his shoulder blade. The other broke three ribs.
"What… what was that?!" the injured jōnin stared in horror at the deep crater in his shoulder.
His hardening technique had been crushed.
In that instant of shock, a silver flash cut through—the Chidori pierced the jōnin with the shattered shoulder straight through the heart.
The last jōnin tried to flee, but Kurenai's genjutsu landed.
"Demonic Illusion: Tree Binding Death!"
Phantom trees burst from the ground and wrapped his legs.
It was only an illusion, but that brief hesitation was enough.
Genma's senbon rained in, sealing every escape route.
Rin's medical chakra was ready to respond at any moment.
Kiyohara had already begun preparing a second volley—then realized he didn't need it. Kakashi's kunai was already at the last jōnin's throat.
The fight ended in under forty seconds.
Five Iwa shinobi—wiped out.
Konoha side—zero injuries, minimal chakra spent.
Kiyohara gathered his iron sand back and dismissed the technique.
He checked his own chakra consumption—then clearly felt the recovery boost from "White Snake's Power" kicking in, slowly refilling what he'd spent.
"Bloodline limits really are something to envy," Orochimaru's voice came from behind. "To achieve that with pure Lightning Release would cost several times the chakra."
Kiyohara nodded—and then did something that still made people uncomfortable, even though they'd seen it plenty of times.
He started looting the bodies one by one.
Most shinobi would only collect intel-related items off corpses.
Kiyohara, on the other hand, carried sealing scrolls and stripped things down to the bare minimum.
It was… rare.
"Looks like there's no usable intel," Kiyohara said, handing the encrypted Iwa materials to Orochimaru.
What disappointed him was the absence of anything related to Steel Release.
…
By dusk, the caravan reached the scheduled handoff point.
The rain had stopped, but the sky remained heavy and gray.
Someone was already waiting in the valley.
A blue-haired woman stood there, face cold and calm in a way that didn't match her age. Several sealed crates were stacked nearby.
Kiyohara's heart jolted.
Konan.
"You're that child from back then?" Orochimaru looked at her.
Blue hair—and a paper flower pinned in place.
The shape of it pulled Orochimaru's memory back: long ago, when he'd traveled to the Land of Rain with Jiraiya and Tsunade, there had been starving children begging for food.
Jiraiya chose to stay and teach them for years afterward. To Orochimaru, it had always felt like madness.
For a vague "prophecy," he taught foreign shinobi for years and then returned?
Konan gave a slight nod. By now she clearly knew who the Sannin were.
Or rather—few people in the shinobi world didn't.
"Orochimaru-san," Konan said evenly. "Yes. We've met once. This medical shipment was commissioned through this caravan."
Supplies in the Land of Rain were outrageously expensive—especially anything tied to shinobi use.
To save resources for the organization, Konan had chosen to import from other countries.
As the adults spoke, Kiyohara found his mind drifting.
Would there someday be an "Akatsuki Kiyohara" in his futures?
~~~
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