Seeing this, Yakushi Nono gave a small nod. She held both hands hovering over the wound of a shinobi who'd been accidentally injured in an explosion, and a pale green chakra glow bloomed from her palms.
Kiyohara, meanwhile, could clearly see the route of chakra flowing through her body—gathering along specific meridian pathways before converging in her hands.
That faint green light enveloped the injured area, stimulating the cells to divide faster and repair the damage.
"Life force…"
Kiyohara watched quietly.
In essence, that pale green "medical chakra" used in healing ninjutsu was a form of Yang Release chakra.
Just like the ocular power of the Sharingan could be considered a special chakra produced through Yin Release.
The databooks recorded that Asura, the Sage of Six Paths' second son, inherited his father's power of Yang Release.
Later, that Yang power was passed down through Asura's descendants—the Senju clan. The Uzumaki clan, also descendants of Asura, naturally inherited it as well, possessing powerful physical vitality.
So if a Senju shinobi learned medical ninjutsu, they could get twice the result with half the effort.
And correspondingly, the Uchiha clan—like Indra—were the inheritors of Yin Release.
The Sharingan was the emblem of Yin power.
I wonder what level of life force you'd need to reach "seal-less healing."
Kiyohara rubbed his chin.
Tsunade was the pinnacle of medical ninjutsu. She had spent immense effort creating a combat-healing system centered on the Strength of a Hundred Seal and the Creation Rebirth technique—able to fight while constantly regenerating.
Yet that was only what Hashirama Senju did passively: "seal-less healing."
When Madara saw Tsunade, he even mocked her for not measuring up to Hashirama.
What Kiyohara was thinking about was: what kind of physical energy would he need to reach that level?
If he could stack a few "Senju versions" of his future selves and inherit them… how far would his physical energy climb?
How many times stronger was Hashirama's life force compared to an ordinary Senju?
Kiyohara began to suspect that Wood Release might have something to do with vitality itself.
The "formula" for Wood Release was Water + Earth.
But the odd part was: Lava Release could also be formed from Water + Earth.
Same elemental nature changes—wildly different results.
Maybe Wood Release needs life force added into the mix?
As his Sharingan recorded Nono's movements and chakra flow, Kiyohara turned that puzzle over in his mind.
After all, one defining trait of Wood Release was "turning chakra into the source of life to rapidly generate forests."
And Hashirama just happened to possess staggering vitality.
Kiyohara guessed that some portion of life force—Yang Release, in other words—was fused into it to create that transformation.
Otherwise, why would identical chakra natures produce completely different outcomes?
And once you add Yang or Yin, even a single element could change in nature.
For example, Kumo's C used Lightning Release genjutsu, and Madara's "Sage Art: Yin Release Lightning Dispatch" was lightning chakra infused with Yin Release transformation.
"Did you learn it?" Nono's voice suddenly pulled Kiyohara out of his thoughts.
"Yeah. More or less." Kiyohara nodded, pushing his questions back down for now.
Once his vitality rose higher, he could test things one by one.
"Then try it yourself," Nono said.
"Seeing it clearly and being able to do it are two different things—especially with medical ninjutsu. You need practice to build the feel for it."
She knew the Sharingan could copy, so she had Kiyohara attempt the technique she'd just used.
"Okay."
A pale green glow rose in Kiyohara's hands as well.
What Nono had just used was a C-rank medical technique: Muscle Regeneration Technique—accelerating muscle regrowth.
Some parts of the body have thin muscle layers and poor blood supply, making them heal painfully slowly; the front of the shinbone is a classic example—little soft tissue coverage, and injuries there can linger forever.
"This…" The patient with the injured lower leg looked from Nono to Kiyohara.
The Sharingan's reputation was famous, sure—but letting a "newbie" treat him right away?
That was… a little too thrilling.
Anything else would be fine, but this was his leg!
"Don't be afraid," Nono reassured him. "Even if he makes a mistake, I can fix it."
Patient: "…"
"I'll try," Kiyohara said.
His Yang Release talent was strong, so the green light around his hands was thicker and more substantial.
When he laid the chakra over the wound, the patient's lower leg began visibly, steadily recovering.
"Your talent really is excellent," Nono nodded in approval.
Even the Sharingan's copying ability had levels.
Not everyone could watch once and instantly master a jutsu.
It still depended on personal aptitude—sometimes the gap between people was bigger than the gap between a human and a dog.
"You're the one who taught well, Dean," Kiyohara smiled.
Good. That was his first medical jutsu "in the bag."
If he kept learning here for a few more days, he'd probably pick up several more.
Then if he or his teammates were injured, they'd have a safety net.
The patient stared at his healed leg, and the anxiety finally drained away.
Thank goodness Kiyohara actually had the skills—he'd really treated him.
"Kiyohara, you learn so fast!" Kurenai's eyes went wide.
Then didn't that mean he might learn genjutsu just as quickly too?
He'd already been fast before—now with the Sharingan… how fast could he get? Kurenai didn't even want to imagine it.
Would she ever have a chance of surpassing him?
"Maybe," Kiyohara said noncommittally, then patted the dejected Kurenai on the head.
In the ninja world, bloodline power was the meta.
"The Sharingan really lives up to the name," Nono smiled, turning to treat the next patient.
Even the Mystical Palm Technique couldn't heal everything.
That was why specialized medical ninjutsu for specific symptoms kept emerging.
While Nono worked, Kiyohara suddenly asked, "Dean—besides medical ninjutsu, can you compound medicines? I mean… antidotes."
He'd recovered some poisoning and detox methods off those Sunagakure shinobi, but those formulas required time to accumulate and refine.
Against a true poison specialist, a newcomer like him couldn't compete.
And textbooks were always behind real field practice.
Who knew which "version" of poison the enemy was using—five years old, ten years old, or freshly improved this year?
"I can," Nono nodded.
She understood why he was asking.
Those puppet users had poisoned their blades too.
Back when she was in Root, the poisons she'd handled, compounded, and deployed were probably more than most Suna puppeteers would ever see in their entire lives.
From instant-kill toxins to slow poisons that took months to manifest; from nerve-destroyers to organ-corroding compounds… poison was one of espionage's most efficient tools.
Medicine and poison were two sides of the same coin. Nono's skill with both was excellent.
"I'll make it for you in a few days," Nono said. "The toxin on those weapons yesterday gave me some ideas."
While Kiyohara had been cleaning the battlefield, she'd asked to examine the enemy weapons.
After all, this area was crawling with Sunagakure shinobi, and she'd seen plenty of poisoning cases among the wounded here.
But once she studied the weapons directly, she found the toxins unusually novel—like they'd come from a true master.
She'd never heard of such a person in her past.
The method resembled Chiyo's style… but sharper, cleaner—like an optimized version.
"Sunagakure's common puppet poisons mostly come from Land of Wind desert scorpions, sand snakes, and a few drought-resistant toxic plants," Nono explained.
"They're usually violently potent and fast-acting, with obvious smells and vivid colors—easy to detect."
"But yesterday's toxin was different. I need a few more days."
She smiled.
Otherwise, she could've brewed it in a single afternoon.
Her combat edge might have dulled, but her craft here hadn't.
"Then I'll leave it to you, Dean," Kiyohara said.
After that, he continued learning Nono's medical techniques.
Time passed quietly—another few days slipped by.
One morning at dawn, as Kiyohara and Kurenai went to the orphanage for breakfast, Nono approached him.
She pushed up her round glasses and handed him a leather pouch.
Kiyohara opened it—inside were slim tubes separated by stitched compartments.
Each tube held a pale green liquid that shimmered with a crystalline sheen.
"This is the antidote you asked for," Nono said. "It can counter many of Sunagakure's poisons."
"Thank you, Dean," Kiyohara said.
He hadn't expected her to compound it so quickly.
"But…" Nono looked at him.
"A woodcutter who came in from the eastern ridge this morning said there might've been fighting over there. I'm worried some innocent villagers were hurt… Could you come with me to check?"
"Sure." Kiyohara nodded.
The antidote alone was worth more than he could easily price—checking the area was nothing.
And scouting danger early only helped their mission.
"I'm coming too." Kurenai quickly straightened her forehead protector.
"If there are injured people, my genjutsu can calm them down for treatment."
Without anesthetics, genjutsu could serve as a kind of sedation.
Kiyohara nodded. "Then let's go. Dean Nono, lead the way."
He had Genma stay behind to guard the orphanage, while he, Kurenai, and Nono moved into the eastern forest.
Morning fog hung thick between the trees—visibility was under twenty meters.
Trunks and branches loomed and vanished in the haze; occasional bird calls deep within only made the silence heavier.
After about half an hour, the air changed.
A scent of smoke, mixed with a faint but unmistakable blood smell.
"Three hundred meters ahead—weak breathing," Kiyohara said, sensing it.
They pushed through a thicket—and Kurenai sucked in a sharp breath.
A once-busy town had been reduced to ruins.
Houses lay collapsed, blackened by fire.
Not only had the town burned—so had the surrounding grasslands, leaving a stark boundary line:
gray rubble ahead, green forest behind.
"So many… dead," Kurenai murmured.
She saw many charred, elongated shapes.
In this situation, they could only be… people.
She felt nauseous, but she'd seen enough by now not to show it on her face.
Instinctively, she glanced at Kiyohara, waiting for him to decide.
"Let's take a closer look," Kiyohara said.
The ground was littered with shuriken and kunai scars.
The fighting had ended some time ago.
As they moved deeper, a child stumbled out of the rubble.
He collapsed under a thick oak a short distance away, slumped against the trunk.
The child had messy pale hair plastered to his forehead.
He wore ragged burlap clothes smeared with mud and dark red stains.
His black eyes were hollow, as if he'd suffered a shock too great to process.
"…Was he the only one who survived?" Kurenai couldn't begin to imagine what he'd witnessed.
Nono hurried over and crouched in front of the child.
Soft green medical chakra glowed between her hands as she examined him.
"Multiple abrasions, a mild fracture in the left arm, dehydration…" she murmured, diagnosing as she went.
"Child—what's your name? Where is your family?"
No response.
His lips parted, but no sound came out.
His vacant gaze didn't even focus on Nono—he simply stared at the air.
"Likely trauma-induced amnesia," Kiyohara said, stepping closer.
"After something like this, the brain may seal off memories to protect itself."
Kiyohara's eyes rested on the boy.
The scene felt… familiar.
And suddenly he realized—
This was Yakushi Kabuto. The future "legendary doping guy."
A normal human body that, step by step, climbed to the very top—eventually becoming the "wish-granter," Edo Tensei-ing armies of shinobi.
But right now, he was just an orphan who didn't even know his own name, with everything destroyed by war.
"We should bring him back to the orphanage," Kiyohara said. "It's not safe here, and he needs proper treatment."
"Then—" Kiyohara started, but abruptly stopped.
He'd sensed something.
Even after arriving, he hadn't relaxed his awareness.
Now he could feel many tiny "things," like watching eyes.
Their chakra traces were faint—like last night's puppet constructs.
At his side, only visible to him, Uchiha Kiyohara's spirit slowly appeared.
It drifted forward to scout, its half-transparent form fading in and out within the fog, three-tomoe Sharingan turning calmly.
"Something is following us," Uchiha Kiyohara's voice sounded in Kiyohara's mind.
He returned after scouting ahead.
"Puppets… lots of tiny scorpion puppets."
Kiyohara frowned. "Something's wrong."
Kurenai immediately pulled a kunai from her pouch.
Nono stopped healing and followed Kiyohara's gaze into the forest.
"Start at three o'clock—clockwise," Kiyohara said low.
"There are seventeen puppet bugs in the trees."
He relayed exactly what Uchiha Kiyohara had seen.
Before the last word finished, Kiyohara's hands blurred.
Multiple shuriken flew from between his fingers into different directions.
Kurenai followed up, throwing a wire-tethered kunai.
From the woods came a rapid series of crack sounds.
Between branches and leaves, fingernail-sized scorpion puppets were pinned one by one, bursting into tiny gears and parts.
"Clean?" Kurenai asked, lips parting.
"No." Kiyohara stared into the deeper shadows.
"They're just eyes… the owner is coming."
As if on cue, an eerie click-clack began in the forest.
Like rotten wood grinding—like jointed legs crawling.
The fog churned.
A hunched figure crawled out of the darkness.
Its back bulged like a humped shell, moving on all fours—truly like a human-shaped scorpion.
Its face was hidden behind a puppet mask, leaving only two icy eyes exposed.
Karakuri… Hiruko.
Kiyohara's thoughts sharpened.
That silhouette could only be one of Sasori's works: Hiruko.
Which meant—
Akatsuna no Sasori.
Kiyohara had expected Sasori might appear sooner or later.
In canon, Yūra was Sasori's planted agent—meaning Sasori had been setting pieces long before this.
So it wasn't strange that Sasori would be lurking in this region.
After poisoning the Third Kazekage, Sasori rarely returned to the Land of Wind.
Suna had been leaderless and desperate, spending massive manpower searching for their missing Kazekage.
Kumo seized the opportunity and sparked conflict, and the other great nations followed, cascading into full-scale war.
Suna, unwilling to accept the Kazekage was truly dead, eventually pushed Rasa forward just to stabilize the situation.
"Heh… you killed quite a few of my people the day before yesterday," Sasori's low voice came from inside Hiruko.
He looked at Kiyohara's handsome face and nodded slightly.
As a "work of art," the looks were acceptable.
Now all that remained was the bloodline.
"Who are you?" Kiyohara asked, feigning ignorance.
Kurenai readied herself. Nono backed away with the child, pulling several small bottles of antidote from her robe along with a kunai.
"Since you're about to become my next specimen," Sasori replied, "I'll indulge you. I'm Sasori."
He glanced at Kiyohara and the others.
He didn't even register them as threats.
As for revealing information—if everyone died, there'd be no one left to report it.
He was short on bodies for experiments anyway; today, he could pack everything up at once.
"What do you want?" Nono couldn't help asking.
The orphanage was full of kids who couldn't fight. Most shinobi wouldn't be insane enough to attack a place like this.
"The same thing I wanted last night," Sasori answered.
But his eyes stayed cold—like the people before him were only raw materials, not living humans.
Then he turned back to Kiyohara.
"Magnet Release Kiyohara… your performance last night was impressive. That long-range magnetic-laced lightning attack, that absurd speed… If I get you, I can make the most perfect long-range puppet."
Hiruko's head joint creaked as if "examining" Kiyohara.
None of Sasori's current puppets had range as extreme as Kiyohara's.
According to rumors, Kiyohara's attack distance could reach one or even two kilometers.
And once turned into a puppet, Sasori could remodel him further—specialize that capability even more.