The instant the wind blade came screaming in, Kiyohara suddenly twisted sideways and used the Leaf Body Flicker to slip past it.
Just as Uchiha Shisui was about to unleash another Uchiha Style: Gale Sword, Kiyohara raised his right hand, pressed his index and middle fingers together—then clamped Shisui's blade between them.
Steel Release!
Earth Release: Earth Spear!
In that split second, Kiyohara's fingertips took on the dark, metallic sheen of blackened steel.
Shrrk—!
A harsh tearing screech rang out.
A wind blade that could cleave a boulder hadn't even fully swung out yet—yet it was forcibly pinned in place by two fingers.
Shisui's eyes widened.
What the hell was this?
Catching a blade barehanded?
His short sword was still wrapped in Wind chakra—Kiyohara had caught it anyway?!
In the next moment, Kiyohara flicked his fingers.
The wind current coiled around Shisui's blade wobbled wildly from side to side, lost its balance—and shattered.
Shisui reflexively tried to yank his sword back.
It wouldn't move.
Like a blade pinned under a massive stone—no budging it.
If he wanted to keep fighting, he'd have to cast a jutsu at this distance… or abandon the short sword entirely.
Shisui's throat bobbed. He finally let out a bitter laugh.
"…I lost, Kiyohara."
"Your hardening jutsu is seriously strong."
His tone was frank. Kiyohara had executed those techniques in an instant—his timing was impeccable.
Kiyohara dispersed the chakra from his fingers. The dark sheen faded, returning to normal skin tone. He released the blade and shook his head slightly.
"Your real strengths are Body Flicker and genjutsu," Kiyohara said.
Shisui's fame was 'Body Flicker Shisui,' not 'Swordmaster Shisui.' His signature style was stacking Body Flicker with genjutsu.
Shisui sheathed his sword and walked over, giving Kiyohara's shoulder a firm pat.
So Shisui lost…
Itachi had been watching the entire fight.
He trained with Shisui often—he knew exactly how strong Shisui was.
No… Shisui still had plenty he didn't use, Itachi thought.
He didn't want to admit Shisui had simply lost like that.
Because in Itachi's eyes, Shisui was his only real friend.
Everyone else his age was… painfully mediocre.
Win is win. Loss is loss. Looks like I'll have to work twice as hard, he told himself.
The three spectators reacted differently.
Rin let out a long breath and patted her chest.
"That scared me… I thought Kiyohara was going to get hurt…"
Kurenai's crimson eyes shimmered with fascination as she stared at Kiyohara's eyes returning to black.
"So… that hardening jutsu—can it harden anywhere?"
She was genuinely curious.
If vital spots could be hardened too, then as long as you protected those… any other injury could be treated with medical ninjutsu instead of dying on the spot.
"I… don't really know," Rin admitted. That was outside her knowledge.
"The eyeball probably can't," Kakashi said, pulling his headband back down to cover his left eye. "I've never seen anyone harden their eyes. Iwa shinobi can't either."
Yeah—he'd been quietly copying Kiyohara's techniques the whole time.
Kakashi had noticed that besides Earth chakra, there seemed to be another chakra moving in Kiyohara's hand too… but he couldn't identify it.
Some kind of secret art, maybe.
"…It's way too chakra-expensive," Kakashi muttered, thinking of his personal tragedy: low reserves and the Sharingan constantly draining him.
If he fought like Kiyohara, he'd gas out and collapse halfway through.
"Alright," Kiyohara said, turning to Itachi.
"Now it's Itachi's turn."
This was the real main event today.
"Oh—have you awakened the Sharingan yet?" Kiyohara asked.
He remembered Itachi only learned Great Fireball around age six… but now he'd learned it early.
"No," Itachi shook his head.
Even among the Uchiha, those who awakened it were a minority.
Hearing that, Kiyohara decided there was no need to hold back.
Shisui waved to the quiet Itachi at the side.
"Itachi—your turn. It's just guidance sparring. Kiyohara-senpai will control his strength."
Four-year-old Itachi stepped into the field. His steps were steady. His small body stood perfectly straight, and his black eyes calmly fixed on Kiyohara.
"Please instruct me, Kiyohara-senpai."
He bowed—flawless manners.
Kiyohara nodded.
Honestly, Itachi was the most "classic Uchiha" type: humble on the surface, arrogant to the bone.
Because he'd been involved in the "secret gatherings" under Naka Shrine, he concluded the entire Uchiha clan was guilty.
But the gatherings only included shinobi—genin and above. Countless ordinary Uchiha civilians, people who weren't even shinobi, still got labeled "unworthy" and were slaughtered.
Extremism, taken too far.
Kiyohara couldn't help thinking of "Magnet Release Kiyohara" from another future—he'd been extreme too.
"When you're ready," Kiyohara said.
Shisui stood between them as referee.
"Guidance spar. Stop before it goes too far. Begin!"
The moment he spoke, Itachi's hand slipped to the pouch at his lower back—where he kept shuriken and kunai from training with Shisui.
For a four-year-old, his speed was absurd.
Three shuriken flew from different angles—not straight lines, but with refined arcs—clearly Uchiha-style shuriken manipulation.
Kiyohara didn't even move his feet.
He simply tilted his head, shifted his torso, lifted a hand—
and the three shuriken grazed his sleeve and pinned into the wooden post behind him.
Itachi's "purity" at this age was just too low.
Seeing his opening volley avoided so easily, Itachi immediately formed seals, chest swelling with a deep breath.
Chakra refined, converted to Fire nature, surged from heart to chest to throat—
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
A fireball about a meter wide blasted out, roaring toward Kiyohara.
A four-year-old producing that size was enough to shock most shinobi.
Kiyohara just raised his left hand, fingers spread.
"Wind Release: Gale Palm."
A violent gust exploded from his palm, instantly dispersing the fireball.
Sparks scattered. Heat rolled outward, snapping Kiyohara's cloak in the wind.
Itachi frowned.
This guy… is that strong?
He felt like Kiyohara was letting him cast on purpose. Otherwise, with Kiyohara's speed, he could've interrupted the seals.
Itachi didn't dwell on it. Using the smoke and sparks as cover, he dashed to Kiyohara's left—another kunai already in his hand—aimed straight for Kiyohara's waist.
This time, Kiyohara moved.
It didn't look fast… but he caught Itachi's kunai anyway.
At the same time, his right index finger tapped Itachi's forehead.
"Too straightforward," Kiyohara said.
"Your shuriken work is good, but your intent is obvious. After Great Fireball, you should've used Body Flicker to create distance—not rush in for close-quarters. Your taijutsu isn't at the level where you can dance with me in melee."
Itachi stumbled back two steps, rubbing his forehead.
A lump was already swelling visibly.
Pain—his first clear thought.
And suddenly Itachi realized… Shisui losing might not be impossible after all.
Right now, Kiyohara pressured him even more than Shisui did.
What followed was agony for Itachi.
He tried everything he knew: angled shuriken throws, rapid Fire Release, taijutsu feints and thrusts, even tactical misdirection to bait openings.
But no matter what he did, Kiyohara defused it with the simplest response.
Sometimes just a half-step sidestep. Sometimes a casual block. Sometimes a single glance that threw off Itachi's entire rhythm.
This wasn't a fight—it was one-sided instruction. Or worse: a stomp.
Finally, after another close-range thrust was easily parried and his abdomen was lightly bumped by an elbow, Itachi staggered back, dropped to one knee, and panted hard.
Sweat soaked his bangs. Dust smudged his cheeks. His left eye was already slightly swollen red where a gust had clipped it.
If he'd taken a clean hit, Itachi suspected he'd be sporting a lump as big as the one on his forehead.
"That's enough," Shisui said, stepping in. "Itachi's out of stamina. He's still little."
Kiyohara looked down at the kneeling Itachi.
"Still, I won," he said flatly.
Beating up a four-year-old didn't make him feel even slightly guilty.
In the future, he might be dropkicking a hundred-year-old man anyway.
Madara had only returned via Edo Tensei at over a hundred years old.
Itachi lifted his head.
"I lost."
This was guidance, as Shisui said—so he still had to bow and thank him.
Itachi rose, dusted himself off, and bowed properly.
"Thank you for your instruction, senpai."
What gnawed at him was this: Kiyohara had Uchiha blood, yet hadn't "returned" to the clan.
How did he view the clan and the village?
As an "outsider Uchiha," what was his stance? His mindset?
Those questions churned in Itachi's chest… but he didn't ask.
Meanwhile, in a place only Kiyohara could see, Uchiha Kiyohara's spirit emerged beside him, expression complicated as he watched four-year-old Itachi—bruised, swollen, battered.
"…Finally," the spirit's voice echoed in Kiyohara's mind, a relieved sigh. "It's done."
"Seeing him like this… feels good."
Kiyohara thought back, You wanted him dead?
"I considered it," the spirit admitted. "But like I told you—killing him would drag down your future. Konoha won't tolerate Uchiha infighting, and they definitely won't let a genius who killed his own survive. So in the end… what I wanted most was simply to defeat him. That's why the wish locked into that."
"So the wish is basically the strongest desire at a single moment," Kiyohara realized.
"Yeah. Killing Itachi would be a nightmare anyway," he thought. He wasn't some random—he was the clan head's son, practically the heir.
"My time's running out," Uchiha Kiyohara said softly, his body beginning to glow. "Don't end up like me."
His form broke into countless firefly-like specks and poured into Kiyohara.
A huge warm surge flooded from the crown of Kiyohara's head through his body.
First came a spike in mental energy—like a bucket expanding into a reservoir.
Thought speed, reflexes, chakra control—all surged.
And the most obvious change hit his eyes.
Heat—unbearable heat—burned from deep inside his eyeballs, like two flames igniting in his sockets.
Kiyohara covered his eyes with a trembling hand.
He could feel his eyes "pulsing," as if the power inside was rapidly growing.
Click.
A sound that wasn't quite a sound—more like a lock snapping.
Three-tomoe Sharingan.
He knew it immediately.
He pretended to rub his eyes. Behind his palm, three tomoe spun.
Then, under his control, they faded back into normal black.
The entire shift lasted only seconds. No one noticed.
But the change was real.
The ocular power reshaped the Sharingan's pattern—then began feeding back into his body.
Even in normal state, the world looked different: colors sharper, details clearer.
And it wasn't just "full Uchiha bloodline" and three-tomoe.
His mental energy had been stacked again—and the source of Yin Release was mental energy itself.
He also inherited a bundle of Fire Release jutsu:
Phoenix Sage Fire, Phoenix Sage Flower Nail Crimson, Great Dragon Fire, and more.
But he also felt Fire Release's limitations: they were mostly B-rank.
Even Madara's Great Fire Annihilation and Obito's Blast Wave Wild Dance were B-rank in the source material—no clear A- or S-rank Fire Release listed.
From B-rank upward, Fire Release often just meant bigger range, more chakra, more flame—maybe a shaped "dragon head" effect.
True "next level" fire techniques tended to be different branches entirely: Scorch Release, Blaze Release, Lava Release…
Kiyohara thought, If I develop Fire Release further, maybe I lean into microwave heating—raise temperature through electromagnetic waves.
While thinking, he continued absorbing the inheritance.
Uchiha Kiyohara had Lightning, Fire, Yin chakra natures. Kiyohara gained boosts in all three.
His Lightning affinity, in particular, was becoming terrifying.
His chakra reserves also increased—nearly two jōnin's worth, even more because the donor was a full-blooded Uchiha.
That "full tank" feeling gave him real security.
No wonder Kaguya obsessed over reclaiming chakra—if Kiyohara lost that much, he'd feel it too.
Across from him, Itachi frowned.
For a flicker of a moment earlier, he'd felt something shift in Kiyohara—but it vanished so fast it could've been imagination.
And his face hurt too much to concentrate.
"You okay?" Shisui crouched to check Itachi's swelling.
"No problem," Itachi said, rubbing his cheek. "Senpai held back."
It was true. Those strikes, if real, would've ended him.
Kiyohara's control was frighteningly precise: every hit was calibrated to "hurt, but not break."
Shisui turned to Kiyohara and bowed lightly.
"Thanks today. Itachi—we're heading back."
Itachi followed Shisui away.
Kiyohara stood still, feeling the new clarity settle into his bones.
With three-tomoe, he was confident: if he fought Shisui again—even if Shisui went all out—Kiyohara could take the upper hand.
As long as Shisui didn't use Kotoamatsukami.
That technique was still absurdly overpowered.
So Kiyohara stayed cautious around Shisui, already thinking about countermeasures.
Rin jogged over, worried.
"Kiyohara, are you okay? I saw you covering your eyes…"
"Sand got in them," Kiyohara lied smoothly. "It's fine now."
Kurenai walked up too, studying him.
"Kiyohara… you feel a little different."
"Do I?" Kiyohara kept his face calm.
"I can't explain it. Just… a feeling." Kurenai shook her head. "Maybe I'm imagining things."
"Back to training," Kakashi said, returning to his own drill area. "My target isn't done yet."
They all split up and resumed their practice.
…
Elsewhere, Shisui and Itachi headed back through Konoha toward the Uchiha district.
Itachi's left eye was visibly swollen. The forehead bump was red and round. His small body ached.
"Still hurts?" Shisui asked.
"I'm fine," Itachi answered calmly—though the slight tremble at the end betrayed him.
Four-year-old bodies were fragile. Even "controlled" hits left marks.
Shisui stopped, pulled out a small jar of ointment, and dabbed it gently onto Itachi's swelling.
Cool herbal scent. Relief.
"Kiyohara held back," Shisui said. "These bruises will fade by tomorrow."
"I know," Itachi said, eyes shut against the sting.
Then he opened them and asked quietly:
"Shisui… how strong do you think Kiyohara-senpai really is?"
Shisui was silent for a few seconds.
"Very strong," he said at last.
"Even in our match, he didn't use everything. When he caught my blade—if he wanted, he could've snapped it… or countered with those two fingers."
"Then why—"
"Because it was sparring," Shisui said, patting Itachi's shoulder. "Real combat is different. Kiyohara understands that. Today he showed technique and experience more than 'kill intent.'"
They reached the Uchiha gates.
"I'm going home," Itachi said. Their houses weren't in the same direction.
"Rest up," Shisui smiled. "See you tomorrow."
Itachi nodded and went inside.
When he entered his home, Mikoto was tidying the shoe area.
"I'm back," Itachi said softly.
Mikoto looked up with a warm smile—then it froze.
"Itachi." She rushed over and crouched, examining his face. "Your eye—your forehead—what happened?"
She lightly touched the swelling. Itachi flinched.
"I bumped into something," he said, avoiding her eyes.
"What could you bump into that does this—"
A steady voice came from the living room.
"It was sparring."
Fugaku sat at the tea table, a file open in front of him, tea steaming.
He looked up, calm as ever.
"Father," Itachi said.
Fugaku rose and came over, towering above the child.
"You sparred with Kiyohara," he stated.
"Yes. Senpai guided me," Itachi answered. "And Shisui was there too."
Fugaku's brow twitched slightly.
"And the result?"
"I lost," Itachi said—then added, "Both of us did."
Fugaku returned to the tea table, set his cup down with a soft tap.
"Losing is normal. Kiyohara is a true genius."
He hadn't expected Itachi to beat Kiyohara.
What surprised him was that Shisui lost so quickly.
Fugaku knew Shisui's talent—those eyes could see farther than most.
And he still lost.
It made Fugaku genuinely want Kiyohara to return to the Uchiha.
Before, it was about bloodline "not leaking."
Now, it was simple: Kiyohara was a strong asset.
Mikoto couldn't hold back.
"Itachi is still small, Fugaku. Don't be so harsh—"
"Because he's small, he needs stricter standards," Fugaku cut her off.
His gaze pinned Itachi.
A shinobi was one who endured.
If Itachi couldn't handle this, was he really Fugaku's son?
Itachi lifted his head.
"I'll work harder."
"Hard work isn't enough," Fugaku said, turning to the window.
"You need to become as exceptional as Kiyohara. No—you need to surpass him. As my son, that's what you must do."
Fugaku's expectations were heavy.
He wanted Itachi to exceed Kiyohara.
Because Itachi was his son.
And on this battlefield, Fugaku had earned the title 'Wicked-Eye Fugaku.'
Mikoto looked at her husband's back, then at her son's bruised face.
Too strict.
A child came home injured, and his father's first response wasn't comfort—but demands.
But she didn't say it aloud.
The clan head's son would always carry weight others didn't.
"Yes, Father," Itachi said.
…
Around 4 p.m., Kiyohara finished another long afternoon of training and finally prepared to leave.
Kurenai had gone earlier—her father summoned her.
Rin smiled.
"Kiyohara, I learned a lot today."
She'd helped him with many things—because outside medical ninjutsu, she couldn't match him.
Now that Kiyohara had become Tsunade's disciple, even Rin's advantage was shrinking.
Recently she'd realized her own toolkit was too thin.
She wanted to train real combat jutsu.
With a tailed beast involved, Rin actually had the most chakra reserves among them—far more than Kiyohara.
But the more you borrowed from a tailed beast, the higher the risk of losing control, unless you could suppress it… or reconcile.
"No need to thank me," Kiyohara smiled.
"Still… you were worried, weren't you?" he asked.
Rin blushed.
"Because… your fight with Shisui looked dangerous. When he used that wind blade, I really thought—"
"I know my limits," Kiyohara said, then remembered something.
"Oh—didn't you say you wanted to make more efficient soldier pills? Tsunade-sama taught me some improvement methods. If you're interested—"
"Really?" Rin's eyes lit up.
As a medic, soldier pills were basic craft.
But quality and taste varied wildly. Tsunade's methods would be gold.
"Yeah. If you're free, come over to my place," Kiyohara offered.
Rin checked the sky, saw Kakashi was packing up too, and nodded.
"Then… I'll trouble you."
They waved to Kakashi and left together, heading toward Tsunade's place.
Kakashi watched them go with a small smile.
Good, Obito.
Today, I protected our promise again.
And Rin's "progress" with Kiyohara seemed… good.
…
Kiyohara and Rin first stopped at the market to buy fresh ingredients and seasoning—materials for soldier pills, and food for dinner.
When they returned to Tsunade's home, Shizune was in the yard setting up a row of training posts.
They were clearly special—more reinforced than normal.
"Welcome back, Kiyohara," Shizune wiped sweat from her forehead. When she saw Rin too, she blinked in surprise.
Then she pointed at the posts.
"These are training tools from the Senju warehouse. There are tons more—left from the First and Second Hokage's era."
Kiyohara walked over and inspected them.
Not ordinary wood—composite material mixed with metal.
No wonder they could withstand high-grade jutsu.
"These are for me?" Kiyohara asked.
"Yes," Shizune nodded.
"Thanks, Shizune." Kiyohara was genuinely surprised.
"It was actually Tsunade-sama," Shizune said, embarrassed. "After you left this morning, she woke up once and said… since you always run out to train, the yard this big shouldn't go to waste. So she had me bring these out."
Kiyohara paused.
Tsunade—the constantly drinking, gambling, "doesn't care" Tsunade—noticed that?
"Then I should thank Tsunade-sama," he said.
Shizune smiled.
"She does care about her students. She just… isn't good at showing it."
Kiyohara nodded, warmth rising in his chest.
He lifted the groceries.
"Got it. Tonight I'll cook extra."
He decided: dinner would be a proper "upgrade" for Tsunade.
Then he looked at Rin.
"With some time before cooking… I'll teach you the improved soldier pills."
~~~
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