"I left your line of sight. Aren't you afraid I might be an enemy using the Transformation Jutsu?"
Kiyohara joked, leaning on his sword. He looked terrible—covered in mud and blood—but his grin was intact.
"No," Kakashi said, his lone eye curving slightly. "I know it's you."
The Transformation Jutsu (Henge no Jutsu) is basic academy curriculum.
A master can fool the naked eye. But between teammates who have fought through life and death? The posture, the scent, the chakra signature... those are harder to fake.
Unless you are a Zetsu. Or Orochimaru.
"It's good that you're alright."
Kurenai Yuhi stepped forward. Her crimson eyes scanned him for deep wounds.
"Where is the Mist Ninja?"
"Mistake with his drugs," Kiyohara lied smoothly. "He overdosed on a Forbidden Pill and burned out his chakra network. I got lucky."
Dead men tell no tales, and Kiyohara had scrambled the brain to ensure it.
"I see..."
Kurenai nodded. She stepped closer.
She was wearing standard open-toed ninja sandals. Her toes were neatly lined up, nails pink and crescent-shaped.
'Jade feet,' Kiyohara noted absently.
But he was too tired for the foot fetishism. He just wanted to go home and digest the Sword Master's Legacy.
"Wait a moment."
Kiyohara stopped them.
He looked at the eight corpses scattered around the clearing.
"Does no one want this?"
Kakashi, Rin, and the Hyūga stared at him.
Looting the dead was... gauche for elites.
"Then I'll take it all."
Kiyohara moved like a whirlwind.
Armor. Weapons. Pouches. Wallets.
"Money is good," he muttered, stuffing a vest into a scroll. "My chainmail is damaged. Repairs cost money. Missions have overheads. Always calculate the ROI."
Kurenai glared at him gently.
'He completely lacks the spirit of a Ninja. He's just a mercenary with a headband.'
Konoha Command Post.
Inside a dimly lit tent.
Pale, long fingers held a mission report.
Golden, slit-pupiled eyes scanned the text.
Orochimaru.
"Red Eye..." he hissed softly, a smile touching his lips. "I've only seen mentions in scattered historical documents. To think it still exists."
He looked at the name on the report.
Kiyohara.
"He deduced it? Interesting."
Orochimaru licked his lips.
Most ninja were idiots. They knew how to throw a kunai and mold chakra, but they were historically illiterate.
The Academy churned out soldiers, not scholars.
Bloodline Limits like the Red Eye were considered myths by the average Chunin. To identify it from tactical data required a brain.
"What is it, Lord Orochimaru?"
A ninja with a pineapple ponytail walked in. Nara Shikutan (Shikaku's cousin).
"Nothing much," Orochimaru chuckled. "Increase Kiyohara's reward by 100,000 Ryo. Put it under my personal sponsorship."
"Sir?"
"It's rare to find a scholar among the savages," Orochimaru said, his eyes gleaming. "Even if his pedigree is common, his intellect is refreshing."
The Nara bowed and left.
Orochimaru turned back to his map.
'The Red Eye... The Sharingan... The Byakugan...'
"This war is a harvest," he whispered. "So many precious materials waiting to be collected."
Back at the squad tent.
Kiyohara was napping, letting his body integrate the Yang Release surge from the legacy.
The flap lifted.
Kurenai walked in.
"Orochimaru's sponsorship?" Kiyohara blinked, waking up.
"That's right," Kurenai tossed a heavy bag of Ryo onto his chest. "I didn't expect you to catch his attention. He rarely praises anyone."
She sighed.
"Why am I always the messenger? I swear, every time I go to HQ, they hand me your mail."
Kiyohara weighed the bag. Heavy.
'100k extra. Nice. The Snake Sannin pays well.'
He looked at Kurenai. She looked tired. They had known each other since the Academy.
"Here."
He reached into his pouch and pulled out a Lollipop.
"Errand fee."
"..."
Kurenai's eyes widened.
"A lollipop? That's it?"
She pouted. "You're dismissing me with candy?"
"You don't want it?"
Kiyohara pretended to pull it back. "This is limited edition strawberry. I was saving it."
"I want it!"
Kurenai snatched it from his hand.
She unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth. The sweetness hit her tongue.
War rations were dry and tasteless. Sugar was a luxury.
"Thanks," she mumbled around the candy, her cheeks flushing slightly.
Kiyohara smiled.
'Old classmates are the best.'
If they survived this war... maybe he wouldn't mind getting closer.
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