"Ugh… headache!"
Kyōichi woke up the next morning with one overwhelming sensation—
His skull was pounding!
Over a dozen critically injured patients.
Each requiring surgical-level treatment.
Damn it!
A had really gone all out—once the price was paid, he'd squeezed every last drop of usefulness from Kyōichi.
Truly a capitalist at heart.
Despite his internal grumbling, his hands moved swiftly, pulling out a scroll to record the data he'd gathered.
These were the physical metrics of Kumo-nin.
And what he'd noticed was…
Kumo shinobi's physical prowess was universally high—much like Iwa's, their specialization was extreme, almost lopsided.
By comparison…
Though Konoha bore "fire" in its name, its Fire Release techniques weren't developed to the same obsessive degree. Most were just straightforward applications.
But on reflection, that made sense.
Konoha had too many options. Its "fire" wasn't about the element—it was the Will of Fire.
Though it was worth noting…
Not a single Hokage had ever been famous for Fire Release…
Now that was ironic.
Kyōichi smirked to himself, then turned his thoughts to Killer B's condition.
Without a doubt…
B and Gyūki had reached a state of harmony unprecedented in the history of jinchūriki.
When he'd entered, B had likely been attempting to fuse with the bijū's chakra under Gyūki's guidance.
Unfortunately…
Gyūki's defenses were too sharp.
The moment Kyōichi approached, it had intervened, even halting B's fusion process. Otherwise, he might've gleaned more intel.
Still…
B and Gyūki's dynamic was something Konoha could never replicate.
The Nine-Tails and Konoha?
That relationship was… complicated.
Originally a wild entity, it had been forcibly contracted by Madara to fight Hashirama. Afterward, it was branded a menace and sealed away—dragging the other bijū down with it.
Add in its… difficult personality…
So while B had charmed his bijū with rap and camaraderie, Kushina had no such hope.
Love and understanding?
Unlikely to work here.
As he wrote…
"Sensei, are you awake?"
A soft, feminine voice—undoubtedly Kurenai.
Kyōichi turned to see the girl stepping in, clutching a small bundle.
"Kurenai. Yeah, just jotting some notes… What's up?"
He set down his brush.
With no desk in the tent, his current workspace was a makeshift earthen platform conjured via Earth Release.
"I brought breakfast from the camp."
Kurenai unwrapped the bundle, revealing a lunchbox filled with steaming, fragrant food.
On the frontlines, shinobi survived on soldier pills—proper meals were a rarity even for Kyōichi.
Clearly…
This was a perk reserved for medics these past few days.
"Have you eaten?"
"Yes."
"Sit and share. I've already had a soldier pill—just a taste will do. Chances like this don't come often out here."
Kyōichi didn't call her out. He stacked his scrolls aside and set the lunchbox on the stone slab.
Of course he hadn't taken a pill.
But Kurenai probably had.
Had he been awake earlier, fetching food from the medical division wouldn't have been an issue. But it was past mealtime now, and as he'd said…
It was just about savoring the flavor.
After months of soldier pills, even plain rice was a delicacy.
Kurenai sat, clasped her hands briefly in gratitude, then reached for a rice ball.
One each.
Though curious about the scrolls, she kept her gaze forward—wise enough to know some questions were better left unasked.
Yet as they ate, Kyōichi noticed her stealing glances at the documents. He suppressed a smile.
Still just eleven, after all.
"Just some physical data on Kumo-nin. Not terribly useful, but if we're studying the link between Lightning Armor and taijutsu… it might help."
Medical analysis wasn't dissection—the insights were limited.
Kurenai nodded thoughtfully.
Finishing his rice ball, Kyōichi sighed in contentment.
Bliss.
A hot spring dip would've perfected the moment.
Shame we're right next to the Land of Hot Water yet have no time to visit…
Shaking off the thought, he turned to Kurenai.
"How are the injured? Any improvements?"
"Our casualties were light. Most we're treating now are from earlier clashes with Kumo. Those wounded yesterday… didn't make it."
Kurenai's voice dimmed.
Thanks to their tactics, Konoha had avoided direct confrontation with Kumo's main force. Those who had engaged…
Never stood a chance.
Kyōichi had expected losses—but not Kumo's sheer ferocity.
No wonder A and B had arrived at the defensive line with depleted chakra, forced to rely on B's seal release to break through.
They must've been spearheading the entire advance.
"Your medical ninjutsu is coming along. Any thoughts on your next steps?"
"I'll keep studying genjutsu and iryō-ninjutsu, but I want to focus more on healing. After this war, I've seen how easily genjutsu fails against truly strong opponents."
"Good mindset. Genjutsu isn't weak—it just lacks kekkei genkai-level techniques. Specializing in it puts you at a disadvantage against jōnin."
Kurenai's physique and chakra reserves were modest—ill-suited for frontline combat. Shifting toward support roles was smart.
The real danger was overestimating oneself—
Like a certain dirt-themed ninja.
Kyōichi smiled.
The war had matured Kurenai.
She carried herself like a proper shinobi now.
Previously fixated on genjutsu, her progress had lagged behind her peers. But with medical ninjutsu—a field equally suited to her—her potential had skyrocketed.
Not that she'd abandoned genjutsu entirely.
She'd picked up his "Light" illusions and Willow Sword techniques swiftly—proof of her talent. The real limitation was…
Konoha's lack of advanced genjutsu traditions.
After a moment, Kyōichi added, "I have a few more genjutsu you can learn back in the village. If you're truly passionate, consider developing your own. Don't limit yourself to existing techniques."
"Yes, Sensei!"
Kurenai bowed her head.
Kyōichi nodded, leaving it at that.
She was sharp—she'd understand.
"Let's check on the medical unit."
As they stepped out, Kyōichi spotted Orochimaru prowling the camp.
Before he could approach—
"Sensei, I'll head to the medical unit first."
"Go ahead. I'll catch up."
"See you later, Sensei."
With a bow, Kurenai hurried off, bundle in hand.
Such a thoughtful student.
Warmth flickered in Kyōichi's chest—
Before dying as he turned toward Orochimaru.
"How enviable. Even at camp, your student waits patiently to bring you meals after you wake."
Orochimaru's teasing tone dripped with amusement.
"Feel free to take an apprentice yourself."
"Heh."
Orochimaru's smile was cryptic.
Kyōichi's mind flashed to the future—
He actually would.
Anko Mitarashi.
Still in the Academy, she'd attended his mixed-age classes during the war. Now, with peacetime restoring the 11-12 graduation age, she'd have years to wait.
Refocusing, Kyōichi studied Orochimaru. "You sought me out?"
"While you rested, I compiled some data…"
Orochimaru offered a scroll.
Unrolling it, Kyōichi's brows shot up—
A list of names.
Most unfamiliar, but one stood out:
Fūma.
"These are individuals with Senju ties?"
"As expected of you, Kyōichi-kun."
Orochimaru inclined his head.
Kyōichi frowned.
This was useful—but what did Orochimaru gain?
"You enjoy research. So do I. And I'm… intrigued by your vision. If successful, it could rewrite the shinobi world's rules."
"Too early for such claims."
Kyōichi shook his head.
In the end, power dictated the world's laws. Until Madara's oxygen tube was yanked, true peace was a pipe dream…
Why won't that fossil just die already?
Then again—
With Black Zetsu still lurking, the road ahead was fraught.
Ignorance really was bliss.
Unaware of Kyōichi's musings, Orochimaru pressed on.
"That other matter you hinted at yesterday—you're planning a dedicated ninjutsu research division, aren't you? Count me in."
"Guess!"
Kyōichi pocketed the scroll with a grateful nod and strode toward Konoha's medical tents.
Orochimaru stood frozen.
First half-answers…
Now "guess"?
Yet he was certain—Kyōichi's unspoken project was a research division.
From the Seven Heavens Breathing Method to his original techniques, everything about Kyōichi radiated innovation. And this "Mokuton" plan?
It revealed Kyōichi's true ambition—
To reshape the world through discovery.
Orochimaru's tongue flicked out unconsciously.
While their goals differed—immortality versus transformation—the outcome was the same.
To etch his name alongside legends like the Sage of Six Paths and Hashirama…
Was that not its own form of eternity?
"So that's what you meant—a research division."
Jiraiya materialized beside him, uncharacteristically solemn.
Orochimaru shot him a withering look.
This fool…
Had been tailing him since he'd gathered the intel.
Pathetic.
"Can't sleep? Now that Sensei's here, you've got free time to stalk me?"
"Orochimaru, research is fine. But chasing immortality is a dead end. I don't joke about this."
Jiraiya's gaze was steel.
Orochimaru's lips curled coldly. "I may not have found my path, but I've seen another! Not that an imbecile like you would understand."
"Another path? Kyōichi?"
Jiraiya's brow furrowed.
But before he could probe further—
Orochimaru melted into the earth.