Year 40 of the Hokage.
The tail end of the Second Great Ninja War.
The Gobi Desert stretched endlessly in every direction, a sea of sand and rock that seemed to swallow sound itself. Five figures moved across the barren landscape with practiced ease, their footfalls barely disturbing the dust as they leaped from boulder to boulder.
"Listen up, you three." The brown-haired young man at the front of the formation didn't slow his pace, but his voice cut through the wind with cold authority. "I know this is being sold as a routine border patrol, but don't let that word 'routine' make you sloppy."
He glanced back at the younger ninja following in his wake, his expression hard.
"Sure, things have quieted down over in the Land of Rain for now, but that doesn't mean Hanzo's given up on his expansion plans. Not by a long shot." The young man's tone grew sharper. "Amegakure might have stopped trading blows with Konoha, but they're still grinding against our borders. And those aren't the kind of enemies who forgive and forget."
"Yes, sir!" came the chorus of responses from behind him.
The squad consisted of five ninja total, though Yubi understood perfectly well that the man's warnings weren't actually meant for all of them.
His gaze drifted sideways to the red-haired boy running beside him, who moved with an almost eerie silence.
Sasori of the Red Sand.
The genius of the Hidden Sand Village. Future member of the Akatsuki Organization. And, if Yubi's knowledge of the timeline was correct, the person who would eventually light the powder keg that started the Third Great Ninja War.
Yubi couldn't help but steal a glance at him. Sasori noticed immediately, his dark eyes flicking toward Yubi with a look that was more curious than hostile. The two boys held eye contact for a brief moment before looking away.
"Besides Amegakure," the lead ninja continued, his voice carrying over the sound of wind whistling through the canyon ahead, "those bastards from the Land of Water have been sniffing around our territory during this whole war. Like fleas, constantly looking for gaps to slip through." His disgust was palpable. "Honestly, they're even more annoying than the Konoha ninja we've been fighting."
"This is your first official village mission, all three of you. Focus on surviving and learning. If things actually go south—if you run into something you can't handle—you retreat immediately. No heroics. Understood?"
Among the teammates trailing behind, aside from Yubi and Sasori, the other two genin wore carefully neutral expressions. But Yubi could see the barely contained excitement flickering in their eyes.
Of course they're excited, he thought. They've probably been dreaming about this since academy days—finally getting to test themselves on a real battlefield.
Yubi's attention shifted to the jonin leading them.
Rasa.
Gaara's future father. Possessor of the Magnet Release bloodline limit, and one of the Hidden Sand's top-tier combatants even at this relatively young age. In a few years, he'd be the Fourth Kazekage.
And in even fewer years after that, he'd be murdered by Orochimaru during the Konoha Crush.
The thought made Yubi's stomach twist slightly, but he kept his expression neutral.
"Yubi." Rasa's voice cut into his thoughts, and Yubi looked up to find the jonin's eyes on him. "You're a medical ninja. That means if combat breaks out, your job isn't to rush to the front lines playing hero. Your task is to keep your teammates alive and fighting. You remember the principles they drilled into you at the academy?"
Yubi nodded immediately, reciting from memory. "Medical Ninja Rule One: Never give up on a patient before they're dead. Rule Two: Never stand at the front of the battle line. Rule Three: Never die before any other squad member."
"Good." Rasa gave a short nod of approval. "On the battlefield, a medical ninja is the difference between a squad that survives and a squad that gets wiped out. You're the lynchpin of this team's survival."
He paused, then added, "I've heard Chiyo mention your name a few times. She says you've got real talent for medical ninjutsu. That's high praise coming from her."
Yubi allowed himself a small smile, careful not to show any excessive pride. "I appreciate that, sir. I'll do my best."
"With Sasori backing you up, though, I doubt this mission will give you too much trouble," Rasa continued, casting a meaningful look at the red-haired boy who'd remained silent throughout the entire conversation.
It was clear that Rasa had considerable confidence in Sasori's abilities—and for good reason. Despite being barely ten years old, Sasori had already proven himself on numerous missions. His talent was in a completely different league from most ninja his age, and his combat experience far exceeded what anyone would expect from someone so young.
If only Rasa knew what Sasori would eventually become, Yubi thought grimly. The puppet master who turned himself into a living puppet. The artist who believed true beauty was eternal, unchanging... dead.
An hour of travel later, the squad finally reached their destination—a maze of steep-walled canyons carved into the rocky landscape, towering cliffs of bare stone rising on all sides. The wind howled through the narrow passages, carrying swirling clouds of sand and grit.
As soon as they entered the canyon, a Hidden Sand chunin with a cloth wrapped around his head materialized from behind a boulder, moving to intercept them.
"Lord Rasa," the chunin said, dropping into a respectful bow.
Rasa wasted no time with pleasantries. He gestured at Yubi and the other genin with a casual wave. "Here are the fresh faces you requested. These kids are in your hands now."
Without waiting for a response, Rasa turned on his heel and vanished in a blur of speed, heading back the way they'd come.
Makes sense, Yubi thought. As one of the village's elite jonin, he's got way more important things to do than babysit a bunch of kids on patrol duty.
The chunin—whose name, Yubi would soon learn, was Nomura—studied the four genin for a moment. His gaze lingered noticeably on Sasori before he nodded to himself and said simply, "Follow me."
Nomura led them deeper into the canyon system, leaping from ledge to ledge along the cliff faces. The terrain was harsh and unforgiving—all sharp angles and loose rock, with sudden drops that disappeared into shadow. After about fifteen minutes of climbing and jumping, they finally reached a cave entrance hidden in the rocky cliff face, partially obscured by an overhang.
The wind here was even worse, whistling and howling through the narrow gaps in the rock, stirring up constant clouds of dust and sand. The environment was absolutely brutal.
Inside the cave, five or six Hidden Sand ninja were resting, some sitting against the walls, others checking their equipment. They barely glanced up when Yubi and his companions entered.
That is, until they noticed Sasori.
When their eyes landed on the red-haired boy, several of them straightened up slightly, their expressions shifting to something between respect and wariness.
Yubi took note of everyone's reactions. Can't really blame them. Within the Hidden Sand, Sasori's basically a celebrity. Add in the fact that he's Chiyo's grandson, and of course people are going to treat him differently.
The Hidden Sand didn't have the same density of geniuses that Konoha seemed to produce like clockwork. And right now, Konoha had what people were calling the "Golden Generation"—with Minato Namikaze leading the charge.
Minato... Yubi's mind wandered briefly. The future Fourth Hokage. Yellow Flash of Konoha. Dead in a few years, sealed away with half the Nine-Tails inside him.
This world really didn't let its heroes grow old, did it?
The four genin gave brief introductions—just names, ranks, and specializations. Then they found an empty section of the cave and settled in.
The atmosphere was tense. Oppressive, even.
The two other genin in the squad—whose names were Kenta and Akira—barely seemed to breathe, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. This was their first real mission, and the reality of being stationed at a wartime outpost was clearly sinking in.
Sasori, by contrast, acted like he was in his own workshop back in the village. He sat down near the cave entrance, pulled out a storage scroll, and released a collection of puppet parts. Within moments, he was completely absorbed in adjusting joints and tightening mechanisms, his fingers moving with practiced precision.
He didn't bother introducing himself to anyone. Apparently, he assumed they already knew who he was.
Probably a safe assumption, Yubi thought wryly.
"You don't need to be so wound up," Nomura said, noticing the visible tension radiating from Kenta and Akira. His tone was gentler now, almost reassuring. "Our patrol area is still a good distance from the actual border. Technically, we're the second line of defense. The danger level here is significantly lower than the front-line positions."
He gestured vaguely toward the cave entrance. "Mainly, we're here to catch any enemy infiltration teams that manage to slip past the first line of patrols. We're the safety net, basically. And if anything serious does happen, the front-line squads will send word ahead, giving us time to prepare."
"Even if we do encounter enemies," Nomura continued, "their numbers won't be large. Small strike teams at most."
His words seemed to help a little. Kenta and Akira relaxed fractionally, though their shoulders remained tense.
Second line of defense? Yubi thought. Not dangerous? What a load of crap.
He knew better. The Second Great Ninja War might technically be winding down, but even after it "officially" ended, the border skirmishes and covert operations would continue for years. Villages didn't just stop fighting because someone signed a peace treaty. The bad blood ran too deep.
And after that brief period of tense peace? The Third Great Ninja War would erupt.
This world is nothing but one war after another, Yubi thought grimly. Barely any time to breathe between them.
His eyes drifted to the back of the cave, where a figure lay propped against the stone wall.
A wounded chunin, his face pale and his breathing shallow. One of his arms was wrapped in blood-soaked bandages, and even from across the cave, Yubi could see the wet sheen of blood seeping through the fabric.
The wound looked infected.
Without a word, Yubi stood and crossed the cave, drawing the attention of several ninja as he moved. He knelt in front of the injured man and pulled his medical kit from his pouch.
"Mind if I take a look?" Yubi asked, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I'm a medical ninja."
The chunin blinked in surprise but nodded slowly, his movements sluggish with pain and fever.
Yubi carefully unwrapped the dirty bandages, revealing the wound beneath. Just as he'd suspected—the gash was deep, and the flesh around it had started to rot, turning an ugly grayish-purple. Pus oozed from the edges.
"Kunai wound," Yubi said matter-of-factly, examining the angle of the cut. "Pretty deep, too. Based on the position and trajectory, I'd say someone came at you from the side and rear, aiming for your carotid pressure point. You're lucky—if they'd been an inch higher, you'd be dead."
The injured chunin's eyes widened slightly, clearly startled that Yubi had deduced all of that just from looking at the wound.
"This is going to hurt," Yubi warned, already pulling out a small, gleaming scalpel. He spun it once between his fingers with practiced ease before gripping it firmly. "Try to hold still."
Before the chunin could fully process what was happening, Yubi's hand moved in a blur.
The scalpel flashed across the infected flesh, cutting away the necrotic tissue with surgical precision. His movements were so fast they left afterimages, his hands moving with the kind of speed and control that came from countless hours of practice.
The chunin barely had time to register the pain before it was over.
When he looked down, the wound had already been cleaned, treated with antiseptic ointment, and wrapped in fresh, clean bandages.
The entire process had taken less than thirty seconds.
"...Impressive," one of the other chunin in the cave muttered, watching with a mixture of surprise and approval.
Yubi straightened up, packing his tools back into his kit. "The infection should clear up in a day or two. Just keep the wound clean and don't do anything strenuous."
[Ding! Congratulations, Host. You have successfully treated an injured person. Medical Experience Points +5. Keep up the good work! The more experience you accumulate, the more medical skills and items you can unlock in the system shop!]
The familiar voice echoed in Yubi's mind, and he suppressed the urge to smile.
There it is. The system.
He'd been hearing that voice for a while now—ever since he'd woken up in this world as a child, memories of his previous life flooding back all at once.
The system was simple enough. Treat injuries, gain experience points, unlock new abilities and tools. It wasn't flashy or overpowered, but it was steady. Reliable.
And in a world like this, reliability was worth its weight in gold.
Across the cave, Sasori had paused in his puppet maintenance. His dark eyes were fixed on Yubi's back, his expression unreadable.
Yubi could feel the weight of that gaze but didn't turn around.
Sasori, Yubi thought. We're the same age. Born on the same day, even. We were classmates at the academy.
But despite that, Sasori had never shown much interest in his peers. He was distant, cold, and entirely focused on his puppets and his craft. Most people in the village found him intimidating or strange.
But Yubi was different.
Because Chiyo—Sasori's grandmother and one of the most respected ninja in the Hidden Sand—had mentioned Yubi by name. Multiple times, apparently.
That fact alone had made Yubi stand out in Sasori's mind, even if only slightly.
I wonder what he thinks of me, Yubi mused, finally allowing himself a small, tired smile as he sat back down.
Guess I'll find out eventually.
The wind howled outside the cave, and somewhere in the distance, the sound of shifting sand whispered through the canyon.
The mission had officially begun.
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