It was the fortieth year since the founding of Konohagakure.
The Second Shinobi World War was nearing its end.
In the Land of Wind, five figures moved swiftly across the endless desert, their silhouettes cutting through the heat haze like mirages.
"Listen carefully," the brown-haired young man leading the squad said without slowing his pace. His voice was calm but edged with authority. "This may be a routine border patrol, but that doesn't mean you can afford to relax."
He glanced back at the three younger shinobi behind him.
"Things have quieted down in Amegakure for now, but Hanzo's ambitions haven't disappeared. They've only ceased hostilities with Konoha. Their friction with us remains."
"Yes, sir."
The squad consisted of five members in total.
Yuji knew the warning was meant for the three fresh genin, not for the red-haired boy running beside him.
Sasori of the Red Sand.
The village's prodigy. The future Akatsuki member. The man who would one day help ignite the Third Shinobi World War.
Yuji's gaze drifted toward him.
Sasori noticed immediately and returned the look, unreadable, faintly cold.
"Besides Amegakure," their leader continued, "the shinobi of the Land of Water have been restless as well. They've been probing our borders throughout the war, looking for weaknesses. Persistent as fleas."
He slowed slightly.
"This is your first official mission as village shinobi. Focus on observing and learning. If you encounter real danger, retreat immediately."
The two other genin wore serious expressions, though excitement flickered behind their eyes. For shinobi of the Hidden Sand, stepping onto a battlefield was a rite of passage, something they had imagined since their academy days.
Yuji, however, was watching the man at the front.
Rasa.
Gaara's father. A wielder of Magnet Release. Even now, he was already a Jonin, one of Sunagakure's strongest combatants.
"Yuji," Rasa said suddenly, glancing back while maintaining his pace. "You're a medical-nin. If combat breaks out, do not rush to the front line. Your duty is to preserve your comrades' lives. Recite the principles."
Yuji answered without hesitation.
"First: A medical-nin must never abandon a comrade before their life has ended.
Second: A medical-nin must never stand on the front line.
Third: A medical-nin must never die before any other member of the squad."
Rasa gave a slight nod.
"On the battlefield, a medical-nin determines whether a squad survives. Remember that."
After a pause, he added, "I've heard about you from Lady Chiyo. Your control is impressive for your age."
Yuji offered a modest smile.
"With Sasori here, this mission shouldn't pose much difficulty."
Rasa's eyes shifted briefly to the red-haired boy.
Though not yet ten, Sasori had already completed numerous missions flawlessly. His talent and combat awareness far surpassed his peers.
An hour later, the squad arrived at a canyon carved deep into the desert. Towering cliffs of bare rock rose on either side, wind howling through narrow gaps in the stone.
A chunin wearing a sand-colored headwrap appeared to greet them.
"Lord Rasa."
"I've brought reinforcements," Rasa said simply, gesturing toward the four younger shinobi. "They're under your supervision."
Without further pleasantries, he turned and departed. As one of the village's pillars, he had no time to babysit.
"Follow me," the chunin ordered.
His gaze lingered briefly on Sasori before he led them along the cliff walls in swift leaps. After several minutes, they reached a concealed cave set into the rock face.
The canyon's geography made it a natural wind tunnel. Sand swirled unpredictably, stinging exposed skin.
Inside the cave, five or six Hidden Sand shinobi were resting.
Most barely glanced up.
Until they saw Sasori.
Their expressions shifted, subtle, but unmistakable.
Yuji noted the reaction.
It was inevitable. Within Sunagakure, Sasori's brilliance was impossible to ignore. And he was Lady Chiyo's grandson.
The Hidden Sand was not like Konoha, overflowing with prodigies. At this time, Konoha had already begun producing what many called a "golden generation", most notably Minato Namikaze.
After brief introductions, Yuji and the others found a place to sit.
The atmosphere inside the cave was tense and restrained.
The two younger genin barely dared to breathe.
Sasori said nothing.
He settled near the cave entrance, unrolled a scroll, and released a collection of puppet components. Without acknowledging anyone, he began methodically adjusting mechanisms and replacing joints.
"You don't need to be so tense," the chunin who had led them in said, noticing the stiffness in the younger genin. "Our patrol zone is still some distance from the actual border. Strictly speaking, this is the second defensive line. Compared to the front, the risk is significantly lower."
His name was Nomura.
He leaned against the cave wall, arms folded.
"Our job is to prevent small enemy squads from slipping past the first line and infiltrating deeper into the Land of Wind. If anything serious happens, the frontline patrols will send word ahead of time."
He gave a faint shrug.
"And even if we do encounter enemies, their numbers won't be large."
As shinobi of the Hidden Sand, this was part of growing up. The academy had prepared them in theory. The battlefield was different.
Of the four newcomers, Sasori was clearly unfazed, already accustomed to the suffocating weight of a warfront.
Yuji, too, remained calm.
Only the fresh graduates from the academy betrayed their unease.
'Not dangerous?'
Yuji kept the thought to himself.
The Second Shinobi World War had not truly ended, not in any meaningful way. Even when the war was officially declared over, the aftershocks lingered: border skirmishes, covert operations, retaliatory strikes.
There would be no real peace.
And before long, the Third Shinobi World War would erupt.
As that thought crossed his mind, Yuji's gaze shifted toward the farthest corner of the cave.
A wounded shinobi lay there.
His complexion was pale, his breathing shallow. One arm was wrapped in blood-soaked gauze. The wound had clearly received crude field treatment, but it was still seeping through the bandages.
"May I take a look?"
All eyes turned toward Yuji as he stepped forward and removed a compact first-aid kit from his pouch.
"I'm a medical-nin."
The injured man hesitated, then nodded.
Yuji crouched beside him and carefully removed the stained gauze.
As expected, the flesh surrounding the wound had begun to rot. Pus had formed along the edges.
"You were stabbed with a kunai," Yuji said calmly. "The wound is deep. Judging by the angle the strike likely came from behind, slightly to the side. The attacker was probably aiming for your carotid artery."
The chunin's eyes widened.
Yuji had guessed correctly.
A slim silver scalpel slipped into Yuji's fingers, catching the dim cave light.
"This may hurt. Please endure it."
Before the man could fully brace himself, the blade flashed.
Yuji's movements were precise and efficient. Rotten tissue was removed in swift, controlled motions, so fast they nearly left afterimages.
The injured shinobi had only just begun to tense when Yuji had already disinfected the wound, applied medicine, and wrapped it neatly in fresh gauze.
The entire procedure flowed seamlessly.
"Impressive," one of the other chunin muttered.
There had been no visible medical ninjutsu, no glowing chakra.
Just skill.
And that alone was enough to command respect.
[Congratulations. Successful treatment of an injured shinobi. Medical Experience +5. Continue accumulating experience to unlock advanced medical techniques and exchangeable items.]
The familiar mechanical voice echoed in Yuji's mind.
He ignored it.
He was already accustomed to the system's notifications.
At the cave entrance, Sasori paused in his work.
His fingers rested lightly against a puppet joint as his gaze flickered toward Yuji's back.
Yuji and Sasori were the same age.
Born on the same day.
Academy classmates.
Yet Sasori knew little about most of his peers by choice.
Yuji was different.
Because Lady Chiyo mentioned him from time to time.
And that alone had left a subtle, lingering impression.