Kiyohara's Tent.
"Finally..."
Kiyohara closed his eyes, sinking into the lumpy mattress.
There wasn't much entertainment in a war camp. The poor play with cards; the rich play with politics. Kiyohara just played with his life.
He was exhausted.
Physical fatigue he could handle. Mental fatigue—the constant paranoia of traps and ambushes—was harder to shake.
Chakra is a blend of physical and spiritual energy. If the spirit is weak, the chakra is weak. Training now would be counterproductive.
So, he slept.
The Next Day, Noon.
Kiyohara heard the flap of the tent open.
His hand instinctively went to the Kunai under his pillow.
His eyes cracked open a fraction. It was Kurenai.
He relaxed his grip and feigned sleep.
"He looks surprisingly peaceful when he sleeps," Kurenai murmured, crouching beside his bed.
She tilted her head. Compared to the bearded, chain-smoking Asuma Sarutobi—who looked forty despite being twelve—Kiyohara was genuinely handsome.
She reached out a finger to poke his cheek.
"It's rude to take advantage of sleeping people," Kiyohara said, opening his eyes.
"Eek!"
Kurenai jumped back, her face flushing red.
"I... I just saw it was noon! Minato-sensei said our transfer orders are here!"
"Is that so?"
Kiyohara sat up and stretched.
Going home meant getting paid. He thought about the sealing scroll full of loot in his vest, and a greedy, satisfied smile crept onto his face.
It was the smile of a farmer looking at a bumper harvest.
"Why are you smiling like that?" Kurenai asked, suspicious. "It's... creepy."
"I'm thinking about you," Kiyohara lied smoothly.
He grabbed his water cup and headed for the exit.
"Bathroom."
"Wait, you just said—"
"I said bathroom."
Kiyohara walked out.
He was a Sigma Male. A qualified Ninja Sigma does not fall for traps, especially not cute girls. Flirting was fine, but a full bladder waited for no one.
The Payout.
When Kiyohara returned, Kurenai was still there. She handed him a thick envelope.
"Minato-sensei authorized the mission reward."
Kiyohara's eyes lit up. Suddenly, Kurenai looked even prettier.
He counted the bills.
130,000 Ryō.
A joint A-Rank mission split four ways, minus the Village tax. It was a fortune for a Genin.
Before he could celebrate, Genma poked his head in.
"Let's go. We're moving out."
Konoha.
The journey back was a blur.
When they saw the green gates of the village, the mood was heavy. They had left as a team of seven (including Minato's squad). They returned minus one.
"I have errands to run," Kiyohara told the group at the gate.
He didn't linger for the emotional debrief. He had a loan to pay.
He headed straight for the Ninja Tool Shop.
"This shop is a scam," Kiyohara grumbled as he walked out, counting a smaller stack of cash.
The owner had lowballed him on the used Iwagakure gear.
"70,000 Ryō for the whole lot? Robbery."
But combined with his mission pay, he had 200,000 Ryō. It was enough to make a dent in his debt to the loan sharks.
'Murder and arson earn the golden belt,' Kiyohara thought cynically. 'Repairing bridges leaves you poor.'
Looting corpses was the only way to get ahead in this economy.
"Minato said he submitted my Chunin application," Kiyohara noted as he bought groceries. "The assessment should be in a few days."
"You're cautious," the Missing-nin observed. "More cautious than I was."
"Your future self died stepping on a landmine," Kiyohara retorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if I died choking on ramen. Infinite futures mean infinite ways to die. Caution is survival."
Hokage Tower.
Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, sat behind his desk, smoke curling from his pipe.
He held a file in his hand.
Name: Kiyohara.
Rank: Genin.
Recommendation: Chunin (Special Field Promotion).
Sponsor: Minato Namikaze.
"Kiyohara, hm?" Hiruzen murmured. "It seems a diamond in the rough has appeared among the commoners."
He preferred promoting commoners. Clan ninja always had divided loyalties—Clan first, Village second. Commoners belonged only to the Hokage.
"Tazuna," Hiruzen called out.
An ANBU with a porcelain mask appeared.
"Go arrange Kiyohara's Chunin Exam. Schedule it for three days from now. Put him in the same block as the other wartime candidates."
"Yes, Lord Hokage."
The ANBU vanished.
Hiruzen sighed, rubbing his temples.
The war was winding down, but the internal politics were heating up. An outsider—Kakashi—had transplanted a Sharingan. The Uchiha Clan was furious.
He needed distractions. He needed new heroes.
'If this boy is as good as Minato says... maybe he can be molded.'
Kiyohara's Courtyard.
Kiyohara stood in his small garden, holding a spool of wire.
"Copper wire isn't as flexible as ninja wire," he noted.
"It's for conductivity," the Missing-nin corrected him. "You know the Uchiha's Dragon Fire Technique?"
"Yeah. Sasuke uses it in the Chunin Exams. He sends fire down a wire to burn the target."
"Exactly. But fire is slow. Lightning is instantaneous."
The Missing-nin pointed to the target dummy.
"Copper is a conductor. If you wrap the enemy in copper wire, you don't need to hit them with a jutsu. You just need to touch the wire."
"Let's try it."
Kiyohara threw a shuriken. It flew past the target.
He twitched his wrist.
The wire pulled taut. The shuriken whipped around the dummy, binding it tight.
Ram. Snake. Tiger.
"Lightning Release: Conduction Technique!"
Kiyohara sent a pulse of chakra down the wire.
ZBZRT!
Blue lightning raced down the copper line, frying the wooden dummy instantly. Scorch marks spiraled up the "body."
"Nice," Kiyohara grinned. "I'll call it Lightning Release: Wire Trap."
"Simple. Effective. Deadly."
He was ready for the exams.
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