Kiyohara knew the moment Minato Namikaze opened his mouth that there was no backing out now.
Everyone was there when Minato spoke. His voice was calm as always, but to Kiyohara, every word felt like another nail sealing shut a coffin.
"The reason I called all of you here is because I'll be taking charge of this operation personally."
Minato's gaze swept over the group before settling on Kiyohara, Kurenai Yuhi, and Genma Shiranui. "Your original team leader has been assigned to another mission. For the time being, the three of you will be folded into my squad."
"Yes, Lord Minato," Genma answered at once, giving a crisp nod.
To anyone else, that response was perfectly natural. With Minato Namikaze leading the team, this mission looked less like a battlefield deployment and more like an outing protected by the fastest shinobi alive.
Kiyohara, however, didn't dare relax for even a second.
In this entire lineup, the only people he could honestly call strong were Minato and Kakashi, who was about to become a jonin. Everyone else was a chunin. As for Kiyohara himself, he was still just a genin on paper.
In the past, he had deliberately dragged his feet whenever promotion came up. The more dangerous the mission, the more reason he had to avoid standing out, so he had never bothered taking the Chunin Exams.
But Konoha was already scraping the bottom of the barrel for manpower. Veterans like him were being pushed to the front, and even children fresh out of the Academy were being sent to war. In a time like this, a rank badge didn't matter nearly as much as whether you were breathing.
This so-called reinforcement mission sounded noble, but Kiyohara understood what it really meant. At best, they would be there to do the dirty work. At worst, they were bait—extra bodies to distract the enemy while the real objective, destroying Kannabi Bridge, was carried out.
"Before we depart, I want to get a clearer understanding of everyone's abilities," Minato said.
He knew his own students well enough. What he didn't know was the true level of the three shinobi being temporarily added to his team.
After all, being a genin didn't always mean someone only had genin-level ability. In wartime, plenty of shinobi simply never found the time to take the exams.
Minato looked around, then smiled lightly. "Obito, why don't you spar with Kiyohara first?"
Kakashi was far too strong for a basic test. Rin was a medical ninja. That left only Obito as the obvious choice.
"Heh, perfect chance to show what I can do!"
Obito pushed up his goggles and strode out with a grin, loose and confident. He cherished those eyes of his, and even without the Sharingan awakened, the pride of the Uchiha clan was already etched into his bones.
He did not think much of the opponent standing across from him—a nobody, a low-ranked ninja, a commoner.
"All right," Kiyohara said, stepping forward.
Over the past few days, the rogue-nin Kiyohara hadn't only been stuffing ninjutsu into his head. He had drilled him in close combat as well, teaching him move by move, strike by strike, how to survive against people who genuinely wanted him dead.
A rogue ninja who couldn't fight didn't get to grow old. He got buried young.
So even though Kiyohara hadn't learned many jutsu yet, he had absorbed a frightening amount of practical combat experience.
"Begin," Minato said.
Kiyohara lowered his center of gravity and steadied his breathing.
Before, his chakra reserves had already been hovering near chunin level, even if he had never formally taken the exam. After fusing with part of the rogue Kiyohara, his reserves had clearly risen past what most ordinary chunin could manage.
That gave him confidence. Not enough to become careless, but enough to believe he could beat Obito in a straight spar.
To be fair, Obito wasn't weak. His fundamentals were solid, and his instincts in battle weren't bad at all. His biggest problem was that, before awakening the Sharingan, he lacked composure.
At that moment, the spirit of the rogue-nin Kiyohara drifted into position behind him.
"Remember this," the future Kiyohara murmured. "Obito has the physical foundation of the Uchiha clan. Don't try to overpower him head-on. Find the weakness in his rhythm instead."
Kiyohara gave the tiniest nod.
"Start!" Minato announced.
Obito moved first.
He kicked off the ground hard enough to spray dirt behind him and closed the distance in an instant. His kunai flashed through the air, the angle sharp and direct, aimed straight at Kiyohara's throat.
Kiyohara drew his own kunai at the same time.
Clang!
The two blades collided, scattering bright sparks. Kiyohara blocked the strike cleanly, then shifted back half a step to bleed off the force running through his arm.
Obito's eyes narrowed.
So fast.
He had gone in thinking Kiyohara was just another genin who would fold under pressure. Now, after that first exchange, he immediately realized this guy was not simple.
He followed with a rapid string of attacks—feint, slash, cut, pivot—one move flowing into the next without pause.
Kiyohara's body responded almost on instinct.
"That angle is wrong," the rogue-nin Kiyohara said behind him. "Parry like this. Don't chase the blade—cut off the path."
With that voice guiding him in real time, Kiyohara felt as if a fog had lifted inside his head.
Obito wasn't fighting one man.
He was fighting Kiyohara and a battle-hardened jonin at the same time.
Jonin power, kid.
As the exchange dragged on, Obito began to feel it too. Kiyohara's movements were changing before his eyes. What had first seemed merely competent was sharpening with every clash, his responses growing smoother, cleaner, more vicious.
It was like watching someone transform from a clumsy student into a veteran mid-fight.
Again and again, Kiyohara attacked from angles that felt irritatingly awkward, forcing Obito to defend in ways he hated.
"His lower body's unstable," the rogue-nin Kiyohara said coolly. "His weight is drifting back. Hit the left side. Make him move where he doesn't want to move."
Kiyohara's wrist turned. The point of his kunai shifted from a thrust into a slicing arc, whipping toward Obito's left flank.
Obito's defense stuttered for a heartbeat.
That single heartbeat was all Kiyohara needed.
As they traded blow after blow, Obito gradually started slipping into the disadvantage. His expression changed from confidence to disbelief.
How could a commoner improve this fast?
A few minutes ago, Kiyohara had barely been keeping pace. Now he was beginning to suppress him instead.
"How is this possible?!"
Obito's voice finally cracked, and with it, so did the composure he had been clinging to.
Rin was watching. He absolutely did not want to embarrass himself in front of her.
From the side, Minato watched the spar with growing interest.
It felt as though Kiyohara had a first-rate teacher standing right beside him, correcting his mistakes and feeding him counters as they happened. The thought was absurd, of course. There was no one there except the people in the yard.
So Minato merely smiled and kept watching.
Not far away, Kurenai stared as Kiyohara's figure reflected in her ruby-red eyes.
She had known him a long time. They had been classmates. If anyone had a sense for what Kiyohara used to be capable of, it was her.
So why did he suddenly seem so much stronger than before?
Had the pressure of war finally forced out his hidden potential?
No matter what anyone else guessed, Obito was the one bearing the pressure directly, and it was becoming harder and harder for him to hide it.
Damn it. Rin is right there.
I'm an Uchiha. There's no way I can lose.
Obito's left hand dipped into his ninja pouch. When it came back out, several shuriken were pinned between his fingers.
Thrown weapons were one of the Uchiha clan's specialties.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Three shuriken sliced through the air at once, sealing Kiyohara's upper, middle, and lower paths of retreat. The angles were vicious. Obito had clearly put in serious work with his throwing technique.
"Don't forget what I taught you," the rogue-nin Kiyohara said.
Only Kiyohara could hear him. To everyone else, the spirit was nothing more than empty air.
Kiyohara flicked his hand and drew only a single shuriken.
Then he threw.
The shuriken spun out in a tight arc and struck the tail end of Obito's first projectile at just the right angle.
Clink!
The impact altered its trajectory at once. Kiyohara's shuriken curved through the air, then slammed into the second and third shuriken one after the other.
Ding! Ding!
The sharp ringing of metal echoed through the yard.
Obito's three-pronged attack was broken apart by a single throw. The deflected shuriken clattered uselessly to the ground, scattered at crooked angles.
"What?!"
Obito's eyes flew wide.
He hadn't even mastered a curved shuriken technique himself, yet Kiyohara was already using one so cleanly that it felt almost effortless.
The shock slowed his defense for the smallest fraction of a second.
Kiyohara did not let that opening slip away.
Obito saw only a blur. He started to raise his kunai, but Kiyohara's hand clamped down on his wrist like forged iron. At the same instant, Kiyohara's foot slid in and hooked Obito's leg.
"Hn—!"
The world tilted violently.
Obito felt his center of gravity vanish in an instant, his body dragged into motion by a force he couldn't stop.
Bang!
He hit the ground hard enough to kick up a puff of dust.
By the time he fully registered what had happened, Kiyohara's kunai was already resting lightly against his throat.
The spar ended just like that.
Silence dropped over the training ground.
Even Kakashi, who usually wore his boredom like a second skin, let a trace of surprise show in his eyes.