Nawaki had been placed in the largest medical tent. The air was thick with the smell of medicine.
He leaned against a cushion, his face pale with a bluish tint. His breathing was heavy and his forehead was slick with sweat. He slowly forced his eyes open, vision blurry as it settled on the figure across from him.
"Mikoto?" His voice was hoarse, his throat burning. Seeing her sitting there alive and safe made his tense body loosen slightly. "You... you're okay. Good..." He tried to smile, but the movement tugged at the massive wound stretching from his left shoulder to his chest. The edges were dark purple and swollen. The pain made him gasp sharply. He instinctively tried to lift his right hand to cover the wound, but the arm only twitched and fell heavily like it was filled with lead.
"Nawaki-senpai!" Mikoto immediately leaned forward, her eyes turning red. She was still bandaged around her ribs and the movement hurt, but it was nothing compared to seeing Nawaki in this state. "It's my fault... if you hadn't been protecting me..." Her fingernails dug into her palm.
"Cough... don't say stupid things," Nawaki interrupted through ragged breaths. His voice was weak but stubborn. "Protecting a teammate... cough... is natural..." He tried moving his right arm, the one tightly wrapped with bandages. A sharp stab of pain shot through it, followed by the hollow, deadened feeling of a limb that no longer responded. His face grew even paler and his eyes dimmed.
"Lie still and don't move." A firm voice cut through the room.
Tsunade pushed aside the flap and came in holding a bowl of medicine. The thick medicinal scent immediately overpowered the faint smell of blood.
She set the bowl down and sat beside Nawaki. Her fingertips glowed with green chakra as she pressed them against the inflamed, blackened edge of the wound on his left shoulder.
Nawaki's body jerked violently. He clenched his teeth and held back a groan. He could feel Tsunade's chakra like sharp needles, forcing their way into the chakra pathways that had been corroded and blocked by poison. Every time it penetrated deeper, the pain was worse than a blade. Cold sweat soaked through his hair.
"Nee-chan..." Nawaki breathed between clenched teeth. His voice was filled with dependence and fear. "Why... does it hurt... this much..."
Tsunade bit her lip, her expression grim. She could feel the lifeless stagnation inside his body. The once vibrant chakra channels were now like rotting, frozen roots. Completely dead. Her Healing Jutsu felt like a spark tossed into a swamp, swallowed instantly.
The hopeless resistance in his body made her heart sink. She lowered her gaze to hide the pain and helplessness tightening her chest. She tried again, pushing more chakra in. It did nothing.
She pulled her hand back, her shoulders tense.
"Drink the medicine first." She did not explain and lifted the bowl. She scooped a spoonful of thick, black liquid, blew on it, and held it to his lips.
Nawaki obediently drank it. The bitterness burned down his throat. He frowned, but what scared him more was Tsunade's heavy silence. His gaze moved between her tight expression and his immobilized right arm. A terrifying thought began to form.
Ryo appeared at the entrance of the tent, his silhouette blocking the firelight outside. He didn't enter immediately. His eyes scanned Nawaki's pale face and heavy bandages with a calm, unreadable expression. When he looked at Mikoto, that coldness softened almost imperceptibly.
He finally stepped in.
"You're awake?" Ryo approached Nawaki's bed. His voice was gentler than usual. "How do you feel?" He picked up a cup from the small table and poured some warm water.
"Ah... Ryo..." Nawaki tried to smile casually, but pain distorted his expression. "Still alive... for now..." His gaze shifted to the cup Ryo offered. Instinctively, he tried to lift his right hand. The muscles tensed under the bandages but nothing moved. Only his shoulder twitched uselessly, sending sharp pain through him.
The smile froze on his face. Panic flashed clearly in his eyes. Sweat trickled down his temples.
"Don't rush, use your left hand." Ryo's voice was steady and calming. He held the cup closer as if the uselessness of Nawaki's right arm was not something irreversible.
Nawaki swallowed and lifted his left hand. It trembled badly even though it was less injured. He managed to take the cup and drink in small sips. When he finished, he stared silently at the unresponsive right arm.
The air felt heavy.
Mikoto watched him and bit hard on her lip. Her fingers twisted the edge of her blanket so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
Ryo turned to Mikoto. "Your wound. Still hurting?"
"I'm okay now, Ryo-kun. Tsunade-sensei treated me well. It barely hurts." Her voice trembled, a mix of relief and suppressed emotion. His presence made her feel safe in a way that nearly broke her composure.
"Good." Ryo nodded and looked back at Nawaki. "Rest. Being alive is the most important thing. Everything else, we'll handle."
"...Yeah..." Nawaki muttered, though his eyes remained fixed on his useless arm.
"I have things to do. Rest well." Ryo gave them a final look and walked out.
Nawaki collapsed back onto his pillow, staring blankly at the tent ceiling. Mikoto quietly set the cup down and adjusted his blanket. He closed his eyes, his eyebrows tightly drawn.
Late that night, the medical research tent was still lit. The air was filled with the bitter scent of herbs and the iron smell of blood. Tables were cluttered with medical tools and reports. Tsunade stood in front of a chart of chakra pathways, pressing her temples in frustration.
The door opened silently.
Ryo entered and glanced over the mess before focusing on Tsunade's tense shoulders.
"His condition." Ryo's voice broke the silence.
Tsunade froze. After a long pause, she spun around. Her golden eyes were bloodshot, filled with pain, guilt, and fury.
"The chakra pathways." Her voice cracked. "The poison completely destroyed the channels in his right arm and part of his chest. Everything is rotted. Dead."
She slammed her fist onto the table. The wood cracked.
"I tried everything. All of my techniques. The pathways won't respond at all."
Her breathing quickened.
"Do you understand what that means, Ryo?" She stepped forward, gripping the edge of the table. Her eyes trembled with despair. "Nawaki will never weave signs with his right hand again. He can't even lift anything heavy. He can't be a shinobi anymore." The last words were nearly shouted.
She sank against the table, exhausted, her fists trembling.
Ryo remained silent, letting her vent.
Once she quieted, he finally spoke, calm and steady.
"Kakuzu. Do you remember the last time I encountered him?"
Tsunade looked up sharply, confusion in her eyes.
"Earth Grudge Fear." Ryo continued, his silver eyes reflecting cold light. "He uses stolen hearts to stay alive, stitching his body together and absorbing chakra affinities. The core of the technique is biological conversion and sustained integration. That is the key."
Tsunade's despair flickered. As a top medical-nin, she instantly understood.
"You're saying..." Her breathing sped up. "Earth Grudge Fear might be able to... repair or regenerate damaged pathways?"
The idea was insane. But when one is drowning, even madness looks like salvation.
"In theory, the chances are high." Ryo's tone remained steady. "The core concept of Earth Grudge Fear contains exactly what we need. But Kakuzu is strong. Extremely cautious. Capturing him alive and extracting the technique will not be easy."
Tsunade's eyes flickered intensely.
"Then..." Her voice was raspy, filled with fragile hope.
"This will take time." Ryo said calmly. "We need information, planning, and the right moment. Once the war is fully over, I will act. Until then, we return to Konoha. Nawaki needs stability. And he needs your continuous treatment to keep him alive."
Tsunade inhaled deeply and nodded.
"Don't let him know." Her voice softened painfully. "Not yet. He is barely holding on. I don't want to crush him again."
"I understand." Ryo nodded and turned to leave. "Keep him stable."
The next afternoon, sunlight leaked through the gaps in the tent. Nawaki was awake again, leaning on a high pillow while Mikoto quietly peeled an apple beside him.
"Hey, Mikoto..." Nawaki whispered, sounding more awake. "The camp... they're almost done packing up?"
"Yes. Tsunade-sensei said we can return to Konoha in two days." Mikoto smiled gently.
"Finally... leaving this cursed place..." Nawaki sighed in relief. He shifted slightly and winced.
Mikoto instantly put the knife down. "Don't move!"
"I know, I know..." Nawaki muttered. His gaze dropped to his tightly wrapped right arm and darkened. He noticed an unused blank explosive tag paper and the small knife Mikoto had been using.
A thought formed.
"Mikoto," his voice trembled slightly with nervous hope, "put that knife... in my left hand. I want to try something."
She froze. She understood instantly. Her heart clenched.
"...Okay." Her voice was tight. She placed the small knife gently in his left palm.
Nawaki closed his fingers around the cold metal. He took a breath and focused everything on his right arm.
Move...
He shouted in his heart. Veins stood out on his forehead.
Silence.
His right arm remained lifeless. Cold. Dead. Completely separate from his body.
Color drained from his face. He lifted the knife in desperation and touched his right arm with the blade.
Cold. Still. Dead.
"Gh...!" He hissed through clenched teeth. His left hand tightened reflexively. The thin blade cut into his palm. Blood dripped onto the white blanket.
"Nawaki-senpai!" Mikoto gasped and grabbed his hand.
At that moment, Tsunade entered with medicine and froze.
Nawaki stared blankly at his dead arm. Blood trickled down the knife in his left hand. Mikoto panicked beside him.
Tsunade's expression turned ice cold. "Nawaki!" She rushed forward and snatched the knife away. A green glow enveloped his cut palm.
"What are you doing!" she yelled, her voice trembling. Seeing her brother's empty, shattered eyes made her chest tighten painfully.
Nawaki didn't respond. He merely stared at his right arm. Even as the cut healed under chakra, the cold, dead feeling remained.
He drank the medicine mechanically when Tsunade raised the bowl. His movements were empty and lifeless.
Tsunade left with a stiff back, her steps fast and shaky.
After the flap fell, Nawaki slowly turned away, curling into the darker corner of the tent. His shoulders trembled as a muffled whimper escaped him. Small, fragile, like a wounded animal.
Mikoto stood frozen. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks. Her fingers brushed the cool Flying Thunder God seal at her neck.
Ryo-kun... Nawaki-senpai...
The first evacuation group began to depart. Packs were loaded, dust rising as shinobi moved.
In the shadow of a watchtower, Ryo watched as Nawaki was carefully lifted into a special carriage. He was still asleep, his face grey. Mikoto followed with her head down.
Ryo's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned. Orochimaru appeared nearby, silent and snake-like. His golden eyes gleamed with interest as he observed Ryo.
"Leaving already?" Orochimaru's voice was smooth and low. He glanced at the injured being loaded onto wagons. "Such fragile life. Such fragile power. Fascinating..."
Ryo didn't slow or look at him. He walked past, his cloak sweeping coldly behind him.
"Mind your own business."
Orochimaru watched him leave, his pupils narrowing with excitement. He chuckled softly and melted into the shadows.
Ryo approached the carriage and lifted the curtain. Inside, Nawaki lay unconscious, face tight with pain. Mikoto sat beside him and brightened slightly when she saw Ryo.
"Ryo-kun."
He nodded and looked at Nawaki's pained expression. "He just fell asleep?"
"Yes. He drank medicine earlier." Mikoto replied quietly.
Ryo studied her for a moment. "Your wound. The movement won't make it worse?"
"I'm fine. It's healing." She forced a small smile.
"Good. Take care of yourself." Ryo said softly. "And take care of him."
He lowered the curtain.
"Ryo." Tsunade approached, her voice low and urgent. "Danzō and Orochimaru are staying. The prisoner camp is complicated. After we leave..." She leaned closer, speaking quickly. "Be careful. And the thing you mentioned..."
Ryo glanced toward the camp center. Danzō's bandaged figure appeared near the command tent, his single eye sharp and cold.
Ryo looked back at Tsunade. His voice was calm and firm. "Nawaki will be fine."
It was a rare promise, but he meant it.
Tsunade stared at him. In the shadow of his hood, his silver eyes held cold determination and power. Her fists slowly relaxed. She nodded heavily.
"Good."
"Move out!" Shikashin's voice cut through the air.
Beasts groaned and the wheels of the wagons rolled forward. The long caravan moved like an injured serpent through the mist of the plains.
Inside the carriage, Nawaki jolted awake from the bump of a deep rut. The tent ceiling was gone. Soft morning light leaked through the thin window cloth.
He reflexively tried to lift his right arm to shield his eyes. It didn't move. The weight was absolute.
Despair flooded him. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his head in the pillow, as if hiding could make everything disappear. A single hot tear soaked into the cloth.
(To be continued.)