'Kid from Konoha, your tricks are impressive, but this ends here.'
Ao stood with a slightly curved ninja sword in hand, his visible eye cold and unreadable as it flicked toward the two Hyuga clan members. With their Byakugan suppressed, the two elites who should have dominated the field were little more than ordinary close-combat fighters. The Gentle Fist drew its true terror from sight, from seeing chakra pathways and striking with impossible precision. Without that, most of its fangs had been pulled.
There was no more pointless talk. A leaf drifted loose from the branches overhead, turning slowly in the damp air, and the instant it crossed between them, Ao moved.
Kiyohara moved at the same moment.
Their blades collided in the thick fog with a shriek of metal so sharp it seemed to split the battlefield in two. Sparks fountained between them, bright and brief, then vanished into the white haze. The force behind Ao's cut sent numbness up Kiyohara's wrist, but the training drilled into him by his future self let him absorb the power through his stance instead of taking it all in his arm. Before the shock had even faded, he turned the motion into a counter, his blade darting for Ao's wrist.
Ao withdrew just in time.
Steel rang again and again. Their swords flashed through the fog in rapid succession, strike and answer, feint and riposte, each exchange too quick for the eye and too dangerous for hesitation. Kiyohara fed Lightning Release chakra into his new blade, letting pale arcs dance along the edge. Every slash came with a hiss of blue current, every parry with a burst of sparks that lit the fog from within.
Ao was stronger. That much became obvious after only a few breaths. His arms carried more weight, his footing was older and steadier, and his instincts had been sharpened over far more battlefields. He met Kiyohara's attacks without panic, either catching them at the last instant or slipping aside and driving his own counter through the opening. Worse, he still had not revealed the true depth of his Water Release. He was fighting seriously, yes, but not desperately.
Kiyohara knew exactly what that meant. If this dragged on, he would lose.
He had less chakra. Less stamina. Less experience. Even with the young Kiyohara's swordsmanship woven into his bones, his body was still this body's body. That fact had not changed.
Ao proved it the next instant. Their blades slid apart after another clash, and Ao's left hand moved in a blur.
One-handed seals.
'Water Release: Water Fang Bullets!'
From the fog at Ao's side, countless compressed bullets of water erupted like a storm of glass beads. They came in a dense spray, screaming through the air with enough force to punch through flesh and crack bone. There was no room to dodge them all cleanly.
'Let me,' the young Kiyohara said at once, his voice sharp with anticipation. He had waited for this chance, for the moment when the grudge in his chest could finally be sharpened against Ao's throat. 'I'm handling him.'
'Do it.'
Kiyohara loosened his grip on control. Not fully; not the way he had with the rogue-nin spirit before. This was different. He let the young swordsman's will flood into his right arm and shoulders, while his own consciousness held the rest of the body steady and prepared another line of attack. It was awkward, dangerous, and wildly inefficient. It also felt absurdly powerful.
Ao's eyes narrowed. Kiyohara should not have been capable of multitasking like this. He should not have been able to meet swordsmanship with one half of himself while the other formed seals. Yet that was exactly what was happening.
The blade in Kiyohara's right hand came alive.
He cut through the first wave of water bullets with a flowing sequence of slashes so clean they seemed preordained. The sword's path was minimal, efficient, almost beautiful in its simplicity. A bullet shattered here, another there, a third burst into spray inches from his cheek. Some he didn't even strike dead center; he only needed to alter their angle, letting them glance off and pass harmlessly aside. It was the kind of economy that only came from years upon years of repetition.
At the same time, Kiyohara's left hand moved slowly through a separate set of seals. Slow, clumsy, visibly inferior to his normal speed. He had never truly trained one-handed seals. Even now, all he was doing was imitating a possibility. Four times slower. Five, maybe. But imitation was enough, so long as it reached the finish line.
Ao saw it and understood at once how dangerous it was.
This black-haired brat had become more troublesome every time they crossed blades. First the traps. Then the sword. Now this. If he were allowed to keep growing, he would become another of those monsters Konoha always seemed to pull from nowhere just when defeat should have been certain.
Minato Namikaze had taught every enemy village the same lesson: if you can kill the seed, kill it before it becomes the tree. Ao had not forgotten.
'Die.'
He stopped holding back.
Ao surged forward with ruthless intent, his speed rising another level. Mist and leaves exploded outward from the pressure of his movement. In the same motion, he formed yet another one-handed seal and condensed a long spear-like water lance beside him, several meters in length, hard and bright as polished crystal. If the sword failed to cut Kiyohara down, the lance would skewer him.
But Kiyohara's slower hand finally finished the seals.
He drew in a breath so deep his ribs seemed to lock around it. Then he exhaled with everything he had.
'Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!'
The blast of wind roared out of him in a violent cone, colliding head-on with the giant water lance. It did not destroy it outright, but that had never been the point. The compressed water shuddered, warped, and lost its clean line. Ao's strike veered, then burst apart into a wild sheet of rain that hammered the battlefield instead of impaling straight through it.
Water crashed down everywhere at once. For a moment, both combatants disappeared inside the downpour.
Ao's face tightened. That one move had cost Kiyohara a significant chunk of chakra, but it had also ruined a killing blow he had every right to land. Worse, the swordsman in front of him did not look like someone running out of answers. Quite the opposite. He looked as if he had only just begun to understand how to use them.
From a short distance away, the other fighters instinctively gave the two of them room. Even in the chaos, the duel had become the axis of the battlefield.
'Damn it,' Ao thought, and for the first time he truly meant it. 'Did this kid start training in the womb?'
Because that was the only explanation that made any sense. Kiyohara's age and Kiyohara's blade did not belong in the same body. The swordsmanship was too old. Too settled. Too exact. It wasn't merely talent. It was time.
And time was something a young chunin should not possess.
They met again in another furious exchange. Ao's sword came low, Kiyohara checked it, twisted, and cut back at the face. Ao slipped the blow, stabbed for the ribs, and Kiyohara rode the impact away on a half-step that bled the power from the thrust. Lightning hissed over steel. Water hissed over leaves. The battlefield became a cage of white fog, blue sparks, and silver arcs.
Then blood spilled.
A red line opened across Ao's cheek. Not deep, but clean. Not crippling, but humiliating. The cut had come because Kiyohara had seen through him one move earlier than expected, as though he already knew the line of the attack before it was thrown.
Ao touched the blood on his face and his expression darkened.
He finally understood what was bothering him. Kiyohara was not simply reacting well. He was anticipating. Again and again, he was arriving at the answer before the question had fully been asked.
That was impossible under normal circumstances.
Unless...
Unless Kiyohara had somehow studied him. Unless this black-haired brat knew his habits, his preferred angles, the rhythm of his attacks. Unless the boy standing in front of him was using information he should not have had.
Before Ao could probe the thought any further, Kakashi moved.
The moment Ao became fully occupied with Kiyohara, Kakashi understood that this was their window. The hidden core of the enemy formation was still out there somewhere, the one disrupting the Hyuga clan's vision. As long as that person remained active, the Byakugan was crippled and the battlefield belonged to Kirigakure.
'Genma. Kurenai. Cover me.'
He didn't wait for acknowledgment. With that brief order, Kakashi slipped away into the fog, silent and fast, heading toward the spot where he had guessed the barrier's distortions might be centered.
Kiyohara caught the motion from the corner of his eye and felt his heart steady rather than tighten. Good. That was exactly what needed to happen.
As long as Kakashi found the red-eyed interference source and the Hyuga pair regained their sight, the whole battlefield would flip. Hyuga Nobuhiko and Hyuga Ginka were still holding back by necessity, not by lack of strength. Once their Byakugan worked properly again, Kirigakure's ambush would lose its biggest edge.
And if that happened, Ao would be finished.
That thought sharpened Kiyohara's focus even further. This was not just about surviving the duel. This was the best chance he would get to settle the second wish in one clean stroke.
The young Kiyohara wanted revenge. Kiyohara wanted completion. Their objectives overlapped so perfectly that it was almost elegant.
Ao sensed the shift in him too.
'You're looking awfully confident for a child who's about to run dry,' he said, trying to buy half a breath while gauging Kiyohara's state.
Kiyohara smiled, small and cold. 'You should worry about your own neck first.'
Then he swallowed a soldier pill in one smooth motion.
The burst of strength it gave him was brief and harsh, but enough. Enough to hold the line. Enough to keep Ao pinned in place. Enough to make sure Kakashi had the time he needed.
'Today,' Kiyohara thought, feeling the sword settle more naturally into his hand with every passing second. 'This wish gets settled today.'
Far away, in a dark place beneath roots and stone, another pair of eyes had turned toward this battlefield.
Madara Uchiha sat beneath the shadow of the Gedo Statue, receiving scraps of the conflict through the network of White Zetsu hidden under the earth. He had not been paying particular attention to this skirmish at first. It was meant to be a passing thing, a minor clash on a broad and bloody front.
Then Kiyohara's swordsmanship made him look twice.
'So the brat really has grown this quickly...' Madara thought, gaze cold and appraising. He had kept loose watch over everyone tied to Obito's past, partly to ensure they did not die too early and spoil the emotions he still meant to cultivate. Kakashi. Rin. Kiyohara. All of them had roles to play, whether they knew it or not.
Now Kiyohara, of all people, was showing unexpected brilliance again.
Madara's attention drifted deeper into the cavern, where Obito still trained with desperate, self-punishing intensity. The boy's new arm of pale flesh moved as he did squats and push-ups, refusing to rest, refusing to accept weakness. Good. Excellent, even. Fear of replacement was a very useful fuel.
'Was it because of Kiyohara?' Madara wondered. 'Because that boy stood beside Nohara Rin and shone too brightly, making Obito fear that his place could be taken?'
A faint smile touched his mouth.
As expected, the root of Uchiha power was the heart.
And hearts were so easy to wound.
Back on the battlefield, Kiyohara and Ao crashed together once more, sword against sword, rain still falling from the remnants of shattered water jutsu. Every clash sent a pulse through Kiyohara's arm. Every movement demanded more from a body that still hadn't fully caught up with the skills riding inside it.
But that was fine.
He didn't need forever.
He only needed today.