Chapter 98: Healing the Wounded
In Konoha Village, Mizuki's clone posing as a pseudo-Jinchūriki was now completely useless. Its chakra reserves were too depleted to continue functioning. Looking out over the field of wounded, Mizuki could only sigh helplessly. If he continued using medical ninjutsu, the clone would dissipate.
"There are far too few medical-nin compared to other ninja types."
Mastering medical ninjutsu required excellent chakra control, which already eliminated a huge number of candidates. Add to that the necessity of medical knowledge—anatomy, biology—and those without the intellect were weeded out as well. The few who remained were practically elite, and many of them had talents better suited to other ninja paths. So, after more segmentation, even fewer pursued medicine. This was the case even in Konoha, the village that prioritized medical ninjutsu the most. Other villages were undoubtedly even more lacking.
Walking down the ruined streets, Mizuki stopped occasionally to lend a hand to those in need. With the Chūnin Exam stadium now secure, the village had redeployed a large number of forces to support the front lines against the Sand. The tide of battle was gradually turning in Konoha's favor—after all, Konoha remained the strongest military power of the time. As long as it took things seriously, the Sand was no match. The difference in overall strength was significant.
As time passed, the non-frontline shinobi and civilians began rescuing and helping each other. The people around didn't talk much—they just quietly did what needed to be done. The atmosphere wasn't warm, but it wasn't oppressive either.
"What a bunch of resilient people…"
In a world ravaged by war, those who still fought to live on carried a certain spirit. Even someone like Mizuki, who often viewed things with a cold detachment, couldn't help but feel a little ashamed.
"Hm? What's this?"
Among the debris on the battlefield, Mizuki found something unusual.
"Bones? Don't tell me…"
After a careful check of the surroundings, Mizuki confirmed his suspicion: there were some leftover bone fragments.
"Kimimaro…?" Mizuki muttered, holding one up. "Looks like he's dead. Judging by the signs of battle nearby, the fight here was clearly decisive. And since Konoha didn't lose, that means Kimimaro must have."
Another young man toyed with by fate, dead despite everything. Even if the process had been different, the result remained the same.
"Mizuki, is that you?" a voice called from behind. "What are you doing wandering around?"
Mizuki turned and saw it was Ebisu. "Ah, it's you, Ebisu. This isn't the real me—probably helping with a genin evacuation elsewhere."
"Hmm." Ebisu eyed him suspiciously. "Looks like you're low on chakra. In that case, help me maintain order for the civilian and genin shelters."
While it wasn't clear how real this Mizuki was, manpower was short everywhere. Any help was welcome.
"Sure. I was already assigned to the emergency evacuation plan anyway." He'd just been too busy to handle it until now.
…
War between ninja villages was different from war among civilians. As long as the delicate balance among the great nations remained, such conflicts usually ended with one side surrendering.
By the time Mizuki's real body returned to the village, Konoha had already claimed victory.
"Yo, Mizuki, perfect timing." The first familiar face he saw was Sarutobi Asuma. "Too many wounded over here. Good thing you're here."
"I heard the Sand has surrendered unconditionally," Mizuki said as he scanned the area. "Did Sasuke and Sakura make it back safely?"
Asuma nodded. "Don't worry, they're fine. But the real shocker? They captured the One-Tail Jinchūriki. No one expected that. Once the Sand learned their Jinchūriki was captured and that the Fourth Kazekage was dead, they surrendered shortly after." He took a long drag on his cigarette.
"You're bleeding from your arm. Want me to help with that?" Mizuki asked, puzzled by Asuma's calm demeanor. His father had just died, and the village had suffered heavy losses. Only he knew how he truly felt.
"He's probably already hardened to the loss of comrades after serving in the Guardian Shinobi Twelve…"
The full battle gear worn by the Third Hokage earlier had been a sign—one that foretold how grim things could get. The battles between the Five Great Nations were never small.
Asuma waved off the concern. "It's just a scratch. Nothing serious. Go help someone who really needs it."
"Alright then, I'll move on." Mizuki nodded and walked away.
From a distance, he spotted Sakura's pink hair—a delicate figure amid a group of uniformed medical-nin, standing out vividly.
"They're even having genin pitch in, huh?"
Thinking that, Mizuki hurried over. Thanks to her sharp senses, honed during training, Sakura spotted him first.
"Over here, Mizuki-sensei!" she called out. "Great, we've got backup!"
Mizuki exchanged a few greetings with the medical-nin. After spending nearly a month in the hospital, and interacting with many of them, he'd come to know a few.
"Sakura, take a break. Check in on Naruto and Sasuke, then go home. Your family must be worried."
"But I can still help…"
"There are plenty of others here. We don't need a genin exhausting herself. Chakra burnout is no joke for someone your age…"
After some coaxing, Mizuki finally got her to leave.
"Whew," Mizuki sighed. "This isn't the time for kids to be killing themselves over duty. It makes us look bad."
"Right?" a nearby medical-nin agreed. "That little girl's been pushing herself too hard. She's nearly out of chakra."
"Obviously," Mizuki thought. "After fighting Dosu, helping against Gaara, then trekking all the way back while escorting the wounded, and now working as a temp medic… If not for her chakra suppression techniques, she'd be out cold by now."
"You guys take a break. I'll see if anyone's in need of immediate attention."
With that, Mizuki entered the makeshift infirmary.
"Wooden walls? Looks like Yamato's Mokuton. But he's not here, so it must've been someone else."
Seeing medics moving wounded into the main hospital, Mizuki didn't disturb them. He just looked around for any critical cases that needed stabilization. Keep them alive—that was the priority. The real doctors could handle the rest.
"Mizuki?" someone called.
"You?" Mizuki turned, surprised. "You're hurt?"
It was an old acquaintance—Yamashiro Aoba.
"With your fighting style, I wouldn't expect you to get hurt so easily. And that injury…"
Aoba had a badly injured leg but looked otherwise fine.
"How'd that happen?"
"Ran out of chakra and fell from the sky…" Aoba admitted awkwardly.
"You're something else." Mizuki gave him a thumbs-up, though he wasn't mocking. "Must've been a hell of a fight to burn through all your chakra and snap a leg."
"How's Captain Ibiki?" Mizuki asked. "Last I saw, things looked rough."
Aoba pointed toward the back. "He's fine. Just another scar for his collection."
"That's good. But why do you sound weird?"
"Well, aren't you glad it wasn't his face? He's out of room for scars there—any more, and he'll never find a wife…"
"The war's over, and the gossipers are already back at it. Guess having a thick skin is the only way to survive in this world."
"Anything I can help with?" Mizuki asked. "Any urgent cases?"
"Most of the critical ones have been dealt with—either rushed to the hospital or beyond saving."
"Damn," Mizuki sighed. "Too late, huh?"
"Not your fault. We're short-staffed everywhere."
"Yeah." Still, watching people die was never easy.
"But there's one person you might want to check on. She's still unconscious."
"Oh? Who?"
Aoba led Mizuki into a small room and pointed to the person lying on the bed.
"Anko Mitarashi?" Mizuki said in surprise.
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