CHAPTER 98

In the Hidden Leaf Village, Mizuki's shadow clone was rapidly approaching its limit—his chakra reserves couldn't keep up with the ongoing consumption. Surveying the wounded strewn across the ruined streets, Mizuki felt powerless. If he kept using medical ninjutsu, the clone would disperse entirely.

"Medical-nin are still far too rare," he muttered.

Medical ninjutsu demanded precise chakra control—something even experienced shinobi struggled with. Mastery required not just control, but in-depth knowledge of anatomy, biology, and pharmacology. Those with high intelligence might succeed, but few had both the aptitude and the will to walk such a difficult path. Even in Konoha, a village that heavily invested in medical advancement thanks to Tsunade's influence, capable healers were in short supply. The other villages fared far worse.

As Mizuki walked down the wreckage-strewn streets, he paused to help those in need. With the chaos of the Chunin Exams finally settling and reinforcements deployed to the border skirmishes against Sunagakure, the tide of battle began turning in Konoha's favor. Despite its losses, Konoha remained the largest military power among the Five Great Nations. Given time and seriousness, the gap in strength between Konoha and the Sand was clear.

In the aftermath, civilians and off-duty shinobi began helping one another. No one spoke much—there was no cheer, but neither despair. Just a heavy, solemn silence.

"These people are strong in their own way," Mizuki thought.

"Those who survive chaos like this carry a quiet strength that can put shinobi to shame."

Then something caught his eye.

"What's this...?"

Amid broken tiles and scorch marks, Mizuki spotted a pale, jagged shard.

"A bone...? Wait…"

He crouched and picked it up, eyes narrowing.

"Kimimaro?"

He scanned the nearby rubble—sure enough, there were fragments of bone scattered throughout, razor-sharp and unnatural in shape.

"Looks like he's dead. Judging from the battlefield, the fight here had a clear victor… and it wasn't him. So Kimimaro died after all."

Another gifted child consumed by the plans of Orochimaru. Even if the details differed, the end result remained unchanged.

"Another life broken by fate."

"Shuimu? That you?" a voice called behind him.

He turned. "Ebisu…? This is just a clone. The real me is still out assisting with the shinobi rescue squads."

Ebisu gave him a wary look. "You're burning through too much chakra. Still, help me manage the evacuation of civilians and Genin."

There was no time to question whether Ebisu had noticed the clone's instability. Every hand was needed.

"Understood. I'm already assigned to the emergency protocol—just got pulled off temporarily."

The wars of shinobi were nothing like those of ordinary men. So long as the balance between the Great Nations held, most conflicts ended not with annihilation, but surrender. And when Mizuki finally returned to the village, it was over.

"Yo, Mizuki. Just in time," called a familiar voice.

Asuma Sarutobi stood nearby, flanked by wounded shinobi. He was bandaged, a cigarette between his lips.

"I heard Sand surrendered unconditionally," Mizuki said. "Sasuke and Sakura—are they safe?"

Asuma nodded. "They're fine. Konoha's lucky. Capturing a Jinchuriki—Gaara of the Sand—was an unexpected twist. Once that happened, and word of the Fourth Kazekage's death spread, surrender came quickly."

He exhaled smoke heavily.

Mizuki's eyes lingered on the blood seeping through Asuma's arm bandages. "That wound—need a hand?"

But Asuma waved him off. "Just a scratch. I've seen worse."

Mizuki watched him a moment longer.

"He's seen comrades die before. As the former guardian of the Fire Daimyō, he's probably grown numb to this."

Even the robes of the Third Hokage that morning had hinted that things had turned grim.

"I'll check on the others," Mizuki said at last.

From afar, he spotted a splash of pink—Sakura, in medical overalls, her hair disheveled and her chakra faint. She stood among trained med-nin, her eyes sharp despite the fatigue.

"They even pulled in Academy kids to fill the numbers?" Mizuki thought, striding over.

Sakura noticed him first and waved.

"Sensei Mizuki! You're here!" she called out. "I've been helping triage and stabilize."

Mizuki nodded, exchanging brief greetings with the nearby medics. He'd spent a month recovering in the hospital—enough time to grow familiar with many of them.

"Sakura, you should rest. Naruto and Sasuke are back—you should check on them. Your parents must be worried too."

"I can still help—"

"There are enough medics here. You've already pushed your chakra too far."

After some gentle coaxing, she finally relented.

"Hah…" Mizuki exhaled. "Now's not the time for her to burn herself out. She still has room to grow."

"Yeah," said a nearby medic. "She's been holding on by sheer will. Almost out of chakra now."

"No surprise there. First she fought Dosu, then helped restrain Gaara. After that, she helped escort the wounded all the way back here. She's still a Genin, no matter how determined."

"You guys rest too. I'll check on the critical patients."

The makeshift ward had been hastily built, its wooden structure clearly a product of Yamato's Mokuton. Mizuki glanced around, but didn't spot the ANBU anywhere. He must've moved on.

As stretchers continued arriving, Mizuki stayed out of the medics' way, only stepping in when urgent chakra intervention was needed.

"Mizuki?"

He turned.

"Aoba?"

Yamashiro Aoba stood with his leg in a cast, leaning slightly. His usual bandana was gone, replaced by blood-matted hair and exhaustion.

"You're injured?"

Aoba chuckled sheepishly. "Fell from the sky. Chakra bottomed out mid-jump."

Mizuki raised an eyebrow. "Classic."

But there was no real mockery in it—just grim acknowledgment. For a sensor-nin like Aoba to burn out like that, it must've been a brutal fight.

"What about Captain Ibiki? He didn't look good when I left."

Aoba gestured to the next room. "He's alive. Took a hit across the back. Another scar to add to the collection."

"At least it wasn't his face," Mizuki said.

Aoba chuckled. "That's what he said too. Any worse and I'd be the only eligible bachelor left on our squad."

"War's over, and we're back to gossip already? Shinobi really do bounce back fast."

"You need help?" Mizuki asked, ignoring the joke.

"Nah. Most of the urgent cases are stabilized or sent to the main hospital."

Mizuki nodded. But seeing people die, even when you've done your best, always left a bitter taste.

Then Aoba glanced at him.

"There is someone you should see, though. Still unconscious."

"Who?"

Aoba led him into a dim room and pointed to a woman on the bed.

"Anko Mitarashi."

Mizuki stared in surprise. "Anko…?"

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