Konoha Year 49.
Kiyohara's expression did not look good at all.
It seemed… he was most likely going to die.
He repeatedly checked the mission request slip in his hand. No matter how he looked at it—front, back, sideways—the content all said the same thing: reinforce Team Minato, location: Kannabi Bridge!
In truth, he was a transmigrator. Ever since he arrived in this world and awakened his past-life memories, Kiyohara had been living cautiously, quietly trying to survive as long as possible.
He never expected that he would receive this kind of "certain death" mission.
How was he supposed to complete a task on a battlefield where all living things competed fiercely, where life surged and death lurked everywhere?
The battle at Kannabi Bridge—for him, was practically a situation of nine deaths and not even one life.
From beginning to end, the entire mission reeked of something strange.
On the enemy side stood three elite jōnin, all hardened veterans of countless battles. Among them, an Iwagakure jōnin named Mahiru was even regarded as one of the strongest in their village.
And the Konoha lineup? A newly promoted jōnin Hatake Kakashi, and two chūnin, Rin Nohara and Uchiha Obito.
During this operation, Namikaze Minato would have to leave to provide support on the frontline, which meant that afterward it would essentially become one jōnin leading two chūnin vs. three elite jōnin.
Was this… reasonable?!
Even if Kiyohara went along, he would only be another piece of cannon fodder.
Even Kakashi, who had already developed an S-rank Lightning Release technique at just twelve years old, still struggled to handle the depth of what lay ahead.
And Kiyohara himself? He was only a genin.
Everyone knew that the difference between one person and another could sometimes be even greater than that between a person and a dog.
Some genin were so strong that even the aftershocks of their fights could shake the Valley of the End to pieces.
And then there were genin like him—cannon fodder tasked with filling the front lines on the battlefield.
"What's wrong, Kiyohara?"
Rin asked with a puzzled look.
Her short brown hair shifted as she spoke, a few strands brushing against the violet face paint on her cheeks.
Why did Kiyohara's expression turn so grim the moment he received the assignment to reinforce their team?
This mission was being led by Minato-sensei, known as the fastest ninja in the entire shinobi world. It was practically a guaranteed success.
"No, it's nothing."
Kiyohara shook his head.
He raised his eyes and glanced at the beautiful girl in front of him. A pale pink skirt was tied around her waist, she wore a black top, and below a pair of tight, over-the-knee socks.
"Don't worry. I'll protect everyone during this mission."
A blond young man approached with a gentle smile.
"I believe in you, Lord Minato."
Kiyohara nodded.
Could he say he didn't believe? Of course not.
Right now, Namikaze Minato was at the peak of his fame. Even shinobis from other villages, upon seeing him appear and sometimes just from hearing that he would appear, would sometimes simply abandon their mission altogether—and they wouldn't even be punished for it.
And yet, despite being hailed as the "Yellow Flash," the fastest in the ninja world, Minato, for all his life, never managed to arrive in time when it truly mattered. He was always one step too late in the face of disaster.
"Exactly! Minato-sensei is with us. There shouldn't be any problems at all this time!"
Obito came walking over with his hands behind his head, grinning foolishly as he stood beside Rin.
Behind them, a silver-haired boy wearing a black mask watched silently, his indifferent gaze showing no interest in anything happening before him.
Kiyohara quietly observed this warm, harmonious scene between teacher and students.
But he knew, after this battle… Rin would be captured by Kirigakure shinobi, leading Obito to fall into darkness. And then, later, he would bring chaos to Konoha—leaving even Naruto a "gift" of dead parents.
So, the real question was: how was he supposed to survive?
Human joys and sorrows were never truly shared. To him, their chatter was just noise.
After exchanging a few polite words with them, he walked away.
As he wondered whether he should write his will early and maybe plan out the distribution of his belongings, a sudden voice echoed in his mind.
[Last Will System Activated.]
[Last Will System: Using you as an anchor point, countless possibilities will extend from the future.]
[Please receive your will and your urn. Make sure your remains are properly interred.]
A synthesized electronic female voice reverberated inside Kiyohara's head.
"Wait—so I die in the future?!"
Kiyohara nearly collapsed on the spot.
He knew it—Kannabi Bridge was a death trap! They were already delivering his urn?!
"Urn?"
Just as he wondered where the urn was, a faint illusion of an urn appeared in his mind.
It bore the symbol of Konoha—crossed out by a single horizontal slash.
Kiyohara felt a growing sense of dread.
Wait, wasn't… wasn't this what a missing-nin's mark looked like?
"When you hear this message, I have already died. What follows should be my final words…"
Suddenly, a familiar voice spoke.
Kiyohara's heart skipped a beat as a ghostly spiritual projection drifted out of the urn inside his mind.
The figure looked seventy to eighty percent like him—an older, middle-aged version of himself.
His face was worn with exhaustion, and on his forehead was a forehead protector with Konoha symbol slashed across.
A missing-nin.
"You're… me? The me who died? And you even defected?!"
Kiyohara remembered the description from the Last Will System:
Using him as a temporal anchor, countless possibilities would branch out from the future.
So, becoming a missing-nin was… one of his possible futures?
"Something like that," the missing-nin Kiyohara said. "As you can see, I'm a missing-nin now."
He tapped the slashed forehead protector.
"When did I—no, when did you defect?"
Kiyohara asked.
This was only one of the infinite possibilities. It didn't mean he would surely defect.
"A few years after this war ends."
The missing-nin version of him spoke with a hint of melancholy.
"Why?"
Kiyohara asked.
"For strength, of course. In the shinobi world, clans rely on bloodline. Commoners rely on mutation. For someone like me, the only way to become stronger was to join Orochimaru."
He spoke plainly.
Kiyohara fell into silence.
This was very much how the shinobi world worked.
In this world, talent would always shine eventually—but unfortunately, he, a civilian-born ninja, was more like scrap iron.
Everyone knew that true power in the shinobi world was inherited—through mothers and fathers, through clans and teachers, through blood itself.
If you had none of that, then you could only rely on your own luck and pray to the Sage of Six Paths for blessings.
"How did you die, then?"
Kiyohara asked the question he cared about most.
"Got blown up by explosive tags."
A careless death.
Kiyohara suspected many people probably died that way.
"At least this means I survived the Kannabi Bridge mission," he said. "Can you tell me anything useful about what's going to happen?"
"Unfortunately, I never received this mission."
The missing-nin Kiyohara shook his head.
"I spent most of my time working logistics."
"…What?"
Kiyohara's eyes widened.
Did that mean his future could change just like the people trapped inside "Infinite Tsukuyomi"? Not only would he become different, but other people and events might also change?
Could there be a future where he became "Anbu Kiyohara"? Or even "Hokage Kiyohara"?
"What about your remains?" he asked. "I remember the urn should contain relics too. I'm curious what you left behind."
Was it only the spirit projection?
"If you mean relics… I guess I'm the relic. I can linger for a while and teach you some ninjutsu."
The missing-nin Kiyohara replied.
"But I won't last long. I also had a Last Will Book, but I awakened it too late. After I died, my consciousness was sent to another version of me."
He continued explaining his understanding of the Last Will Book—it seemed that if one fulfilled the deceased's lingering wishes, they could gain a portion of their strength.
(End of Chapter)