Chapter 63 – Life on the Battlefield
Ever since that last conversation with Orochimaru, Nan's days had become those of an ordinary shinobi squad leader on the battlefield.
Orochimaru seemed to have abandoned his attempts to win Nan over—or perhaps he was plotting something in secret that Nan hadn't uncovered yet. Whatever the case, Nan was relieved. At least now he no longer had to constantly make up excuses to fend Orochimaru off every day.
If the sannin ever tried again with his schemes, Nan was ready. If it came to it, he would simply cut ties. If the enemy advances, block them. If trouble comes, deal with it head-on.
In the meantime, Nan's team had already carried out several missions. Though newly formed and with two genin among them, their efficiency was on par with other squads—sometimes even better. Nan's overwhelming strength paired with Kosuke's deep experience gave them an edge that other units simply couldn't match.
Anko and Hayate, while lacking in power and experience, had also grown considerably after this period of training. They no longer dragged the team down.
Over time, Nan, Kosuke, and the others grew closer. Officially, Nan was the captain, but being the youngest in appearance, it was natural that Kosuke—older, more seasoned—looked after the squad like a veteran elder.
For Nan, who carried the mindset of someone in his thirties from his previous life, this wasn't a problem. He didn't rely on Kosuke the way Anko and Hayate did, but when the squad faced tricky situations, he often sought Kosuke's counsel.
As a result, to outsiders, it often looked like Kosuke was the actual leader of the squad. Nan didn't mind. In fact, he found it convenient. Every mission plan was laid out by Kosuke, and all Nan had to do was nod in agreement and say:
"I think Kosuke-senpai's plan makes sense. Let's go with that."
Meanwhile, scouting activity from Sunagakure had noticeably increased. Enemy trackers were appearing more frequently around Konoha's camps, enough to raise suspicion that something bigger was in the works.
The exact plan was unclear, but the countermeasure was obvious: eliminate the scouts, disrupt their operations. Today, Nan's team was assigned to patrol the perimeter and flush out any Sand shinobi lurking nearby.
With his sensory ninjutsu and Sharingan, Nan was perfectly suited for this kind of mission. The four of them set out on patrol, and once beyond the camp, he activated his sensory perception, continuously scanning for hostile signatures. At the same time, he kept his Sharingan open, watching for chakra trails that might betray a shinobi's camouflage.
Sensory techniques weren't foolproof—some could suppress or mask their chakra—but Sharingan could see chakra itself. No matter what concealment they used, he would detect them.
Just as he was focusing intently, Hayate's sharp voice broke the silence.
"Will you stop eating already, Anko? Can't you tell your belly and double chin are about to show?"
Nan glanced over. Sure enough, Anko was chewing happily on skewers of dango as they moved.
Anko shot back without missing a beat:
"If I don't eat, where will I get the strength to fight when the enemy shows up?"
Hayate scowled.
"Do you want your chewing sounds and the smell of food to give away our position?"
"Oh please. With Nan and Kosuke-ossan here, even if we run into enemies, they'll handle it without breaking a sweat. And besides, food smells don't travel that far. Your coughing, though—that's loud enough to blow our cover."
Nan and Kosuke exchanged a knowing smile. These two… compared to him, they really were just children. Quarreling over the smallest things had become routine.
And as usual, Anko got the better of it. Hayate, not being quick with words, always lost these spats. This time was no different. Flustered, he coughed twice more, then muttered under his breath:
"Fine, eat all you want. Get fat. See if anyone marries you then…"
Anko didn't hear him. But Nan did.
He couldn't help but sigh inwardly. In the original timeline, Anko really did end up never marrying. But still—that's better than Hayate's fate. He never even lived long enough to think about marriage.
With that thought, Nan cast a brief look of pity at Hayate.
Nan smirked.
"Count yourself lucky, Hayate. In this lifetime, you ran into me."
He had long ago diagnosed the root of Hayate's illness, but until now he hadn't possessed the means to cure it. All he could do was suppress the symptoms, keeping the disease from worsening.
But after learning Tsunade's techniques, Nan finally had the skill to treat him properly.
He'd already drawn up a recovery plan for Hayate, and the boy's condition had improved considerably in recent weeks. With a little more time, Nan was confident he'd be fully cured.
In the original story, Hayate's fight against Baki ended in failure mostly because of his frail body. Even though he had landed a strike, his weakened condition had kept it from doing any real damage.
But now—now that his body was recovering—Hayate's future strength would be far greater. Even if the timeline didn't change, should he face Baki again, he wouldn't go down so easily.
That thought tugged at Nan's mind for a moment, but his focus quickly snapped back. His sensory abilities had picked up several unfamiliar chakra signatures nearby.
He recognized most of the shinobi assigned to patrols in this area. These signatures didn't match any of them.
And this sector was under his squad's responsibility. If it were Konoha shinobi, they wouldn't be crossing into his patrol route.
That meant only one thing—Sand's scouts, sent to gather intel.
As for why Sunagakure had suddenly intensified their reconnaissance, Nan already had his suspicions.
The harsh environment of the Wind Country had always left the Sand impoverished, with too few resources to nurture a strong pool of shinobi. Compared to Konoha, their average quality was lower, and they had relied heavily on poisons to close the gap.
But now, with their poisons countered, Sunagakure had been steadily losing ground.
The war's outcome was tilting toward Konoha's victory. Yet the Sand clearly refused to accept defeat so easily. Their counterattacks were growing fiercer—a fact Nan had felt firsthand in recent battles.
He understood the reason. Pressure on Sunagakure's other fronts—against Kirigakure and Iwagakure—must have been mounting. They needed to settle things with Konoha quickly, so they could divert their forces elsewhere.
With their trump card gone, they would almost certainly commit more manpower to a decisive confrontation. If they won, all the better. If they lost, they could still bargain with Konoha for a nominal treaty, paying some price but surviving. After all, Konoha, fighting three other nations at once, wouldn't push them to annihilation.
From Sunagakure's perspective, it was a gamble with no real loss.
The original story had always been vague about the timeline, but judging from the situation now, Nan felt the decisive battle with the Sand was drawing close.
The year was nearing the end of Konoha Year 46. Soon, the famous Battle of Kikyō Pass—the clash that determined the war's outcome—would arrive.
These sudden scouting efforts were surely preparations for that very battle.
Nan resolved to capture these scouts alive. With luck, he might pry some valuable intelligence from them.
He raised his hand, signaling his squad to halt. Anko and Hayate, still bickering, immediately fell silent.
"I've sensed several unfamiliar chakras," Nan told them. "Most likely Sand shinobi. About five kilometers ahead."
At once, the others tensed, their focus sharpening.
"We'll sneak closer," Nan continued. "Their chakra isn't particularly strong. I plan to take them alive—see if we can extract intel. With our team's strength, it shouldn't be difficult. What do you think, Kosuke-senpai?"
Though Nan had begun taking initiative, he still sought Kosuke's judgment.
The veteran thought for a moment, then nodded. He'd already seen Nan's prowess and sharp perception in action. If the boy said it could be done, it likely could.
With their course set, the four quickened their pace, moving toward the enemy signatures Nan had detected.