The "resting room" was just a glorified waiting room with better bandages.
Cinderblock walls painted an uninspired beige. Metal cots lined up in two rows. The faint smell of antiseptic fighting with sweat and instant noodles. A couple of med-nin moved between teams like harried bees, checking vitals, tsking at bruises, slapping seals onto the obviously dying.
I sat on the edge of a cot with my feet dangling, hands in my lap, trying not to think about how much of my blood was on my clothes.
Naruto had already tried to escape twice.
"But I feel fine!" he whined as a medic wrapped his shoulder. "See? Totally fine. I can do pushups—"
"Please don't," she said, voice flat. "You'll rip the stitches."
He deflated into a sulk. Sasuke, one cot over, suffered a separate med-nin poking at his bandaged neck with all the emotional expression of a gravestone.
"Any numbness? Tingling?" the guy asked.
Sasuke's jaw clenched. "…No."
He was lying. I could feel the curse mark like a wrong note in a song, even dormant. Every time the med-nin's chakra skimmed it, the mark twitched, sour and oily, and the Squad Mark on my wrist answered with a faint throb.
I wrapped my arms around myself to keep from reaching over and smacking the medic's hand away.
"You," a voice snapped. "Burns girl. Hands."
I looked up. One of the med-nin stood in front of me, older, hair pinned up in a no-nonsense knot. Her eyes landed on my fingers and did that medic thing where they saw through bandages to all your bad choices underneath.
"I kept them clean," I said defensively. "Mostly."
She peeled back the wraps anyway. The skin was still ugly—pink, cracked, chakra pathways spiderwebbed with faint black lines—but the swelling had gone down.
"Hn," she said. "You're lucky. Overuse of chakra on underdeveloped coils can cause permanent damage. You understand that?"
"Yes," I said.
No, my self-preservation said. We absolutely do not.
Her chakra brushed mine, cool and professional. A faint green glow lit her hands as she ran diagnostics. It tickled; my own instincts wanted to follow the pattern.
"Can I—" I blurted, then stopped, ears going hot.
She narrowed her eyes. "Speak."
I swallowed. "Can I try it? The diagnostic technique. Just… once. Under supervision." I lifted my still-bad hands. "I know the theory, I've practiced on myself. I just… I want to make sure I'm doing it right before I break myself worse."
Her expression loosened a fraction. Not soft, exactly. Just less "ticking time bomb" and more "annoying intern."
"On who?" she asked.
I glanced automatically at Naruto.
"NO," he said instantly, clutching his bandaged shoulder like I'd threatened it with a kunai. "Nuh-uh. Get your witch hands away from me."
"You let me sew you back together in the forest," I said. "Badly."
"That was life or death! This is school!"
She gave us both a look that said she did not have the energy for children.
"Use me," she said. "Low stakes. If you mess up, I'll know before you fry anything important."
My heart did a weird little kick. "Really?"
"Once," she said. "And you follow my chakra exactly. No improvising."
I nodded so fast my glasses almost fell off.
She held out her hand, palm-up. I mirrored it, hovering my hand just above hers. Our chakra brushed—hers a controlled, steady green, mine a nervous white-blue static.
"Slow," she said. "Match my pace."
I breathed in. Out. Let my chakra trickle down my arm, into my fingertips, following the exact route hers took through her coils. The pattern unrolled under my awareness: pathways, junctions, the steady thump of her heart, the way the medical chakra gently probed, checked, withdrew.
It felt… right. Like tracing over someone else's ink lines to learn the shape before drawing your own.
"Good," she said quietly. "Now mirror it back. Read."
I let my chakra settle against hers, listening.
Her system felt like tempered glass. No cracks, just hairline scars of old fatigue. Sturdy. Tired. The ghost of a headache behind her eyes.
"You're low on sleep," I murmured, without thinking. "Headache. Left knee bothers you when it rains."
Her eyebrows climbed. "You cheat?"
"No," I said, blinking. "It just… feels like that."
She studied me for a long beat.
"Your control is messy, but your perception is decent," she said at last. "If you pursue this, you'll need real training. Not battlefield guesswork."
My chest did that kick again. "I want that," I said, too fast. "I mean—if the village ever—if someone like, I don't know, Lady Tsunade ever came back—"
"Ambitious," she snorted, but her eyes had warmed by half a degree. "For now, stop burning your hands out trying to act like a full hospital team. Field medics stabilize and transport. They don't rebuild people from ash."
I glanced at Naruto and Sasuke. My mouth thinned. "What if there's nobody to transport to?"
She hesitated just long enough for the silence to land.
"Then," she said, "you do what you can and live with the rest."
Not comforting. True, though.
She rewrapped my hands with more care than I'd given myself, then moved on to the next cot. "Don't use chakra through those for at least a day," she called over her shoulder. "I mean it."
"Yes, ma'am," I muttered.
Naruto leaned over, squinting at my fresh bandages. "So? Did you fix her?"
"I wasn't trying to fix her, I was practicing diagnostics." I nudged him with my elbow. "Also she doesn't need fixing. She needs coffee and a vacation."
"Same," he said, flopping back dramatically. "Except I need ramen and a nap."
"Shocking," I said. "Truly."
Sasuke sat up slowly, rolling his shoulder. The med-nin had finished with him, leaving the bandage on his neck intact, a neat white square over the ugly thing underneath.
His chakra was… quieter. Not calm, never that. But the frantic jagged edges from the forest had settled into something colder. A blade cooling after the forge.
The door slid open with a familiar soft clack.
Kakashi stepped in, hands in his pockets, hitai-ate slanted, that same lazy eye-crease in place.
"Yo," he said.
Naruto launched at him. "Kakashi-sensei!"
"Careful—" Kakashi started.
Naruto's hug hit his ribs; he oofed and staggered back half a step, then patted Naruto's head like it was a particularly loud cat.
"You all look… lively," he said.
"We survived!" Naruto beamed. "We got both scrolls, we made it to the creepy tower, we didn't die in the murder woods—"
"Low bar, but I'll take it," Kakashi said. "Sylvie?"
"I assisted in not dying," I said. "Ten out of ten, would recommend."
He looked at me. Really looked, not just at the haircut and bandages.
On the surface, his chakra was its usual smooth, lazy silver: cool, wry, a little amused at everything. Underneath?
Steel-gray.
Not the clean blue of a normal shinobi's tension. Not the hot red of anger. Heavy, dense worry, layered tight over something older and deeper that I didn't have words for.
Fear, my nervous system supplied. The big kind. The kind adults never admitted to.
It made my skin itch.
He shifted his gaze to Sasuke.
"Nice of you to drop by, Kakashi," Sasuke said, voice flat. "Your students nearly got eaten by a forest."
"Only nibbled," I said. "We weren't a full meal."
Kakashi's visible eye creased. "Sorry I missed the fun," he said. "Anko gave me the highlights. Giant snakes, mysterious assailants, unconscious teammates. You know, standard first mission material."
Naruto laughed. Sasuke didn't.
Steel-gray worry pulsed again under Kakashi's chakra.
"Med-nin cleared you?" Kakashi asked him.
"For now," Sasuke said.
Kakashi nodded, too casual. "Good. Naruto, Sylvie—go refill your water and see if there's any food left out there. I need a moment with Sasuke."
Instant wrongness crawled down my spine.
Naruto blinked. "Huh? Why—"
"Team leader privilege," Kakashi sing-songed. "Go on. I won't steal him."
Naruto bristled. "You better not. We need three people for the next round!"
He stomped toward the hallway. Then glanced back at me, jerking his head. "C'mon, Sylv. Food."
My feet didn't want to move.
Kakashi watched me. The surface of his chakra didn't ripple.
"Go," he said softly. "I'll bring him back in one piece."
"You'll try," I muttered, but my legs listened. I followed Naruto out the door, letting it slide shut behind us with a click that felt too final.
We made it maybe ten steps into the corridor before Naruto leaned in.
"I'm totally gonna listen," he whispered. "You?"
"Obviously," I said.
We crab-walked back toward the door, pressed ourselves comically flat against the wall on either side of the frame, and pretended to be very interested in a nearby motivational poster about teamwork.
Naruto tilted his head, trying to catch voices through the crack.
Kakashi's tone came through first. Quiet. Serious in a way I rarely heard.
"…not just a wound, Sasuke. It's a brand. Orochimaru didn't give you that out of generosity."
A beat. Sasuke's reply, low and edged. "I know what he wants."
"I'm not sure you do," Kakashi said. "Or you'd be more afraid."
My fingers dug into my own sleeves. Naruto's jaw tightened.
"Power is power," Sasuke said. "I need it."
"And if using it costs you yourself?" Kakashi countered. "Orochimaru likes tools that think they're in control."
The word tool dropped into my chest like a stone.
Images flickered: Zabuza, Haku, the hunter-nin calling themselves a tool. Sasuke under the curse, eyes wild and wrong, voice not his.
"I won't be controlled," Sasuke said.
"Everyone says that at first," Kakashi replied. There was no smile in it this time. "Listen carefully. If that mark flares in combat again, I will stop you. By force, if I have to. I'll pull you from the exam. From missions. Whatever it takes."
Silence.
"I can handle it," Sasuke insisted.
I smacked my head gently against the wall. Oh my god, of course he said that.
Kakashi exhaled, the sound thin. "You're talented. Smart. Stubborn. That's the problem. You're exactly the kind of person Orochimaru wants. Don't give him easy access."
Naruto's chakra surged hot beside me. He opened his mouth.
I slapped a hand over it.
"Don't you dare burst in and yell at them," I hissed.
His eyes went wide, offended. He mumbled something that sounded like "mmf mff mmmf."
"Yes, I know you want to," I said. "No."
Inside, Kakashi's voice dropped lower.
"This isn't just about you," he said. "If that seal goes wild mid-mission, if you lose yourself—Naruto and Sylvie are the ones next to you. Do you want to be the blade aimed at your own team?"
The hallway felt colder.
My breath snagged.
For a second, I could almost see it: Sasuke snapping, curse mark searing open, power spilling out like fire, and me too slow, too under-trained, with my cheap tags and beginner's med-jutsu.
A time bomb with a face.
"I won't let that happen," Sasuke said.
"Then don't use it," Kakashi said. "Not once. Not even a little. Not even if it feels like that's the only way. You wait. You train. You trust that there are other paths to strength that don't belong to monsters."
Another silence. Then, reluctantly: "…Fine."
The steel-gray in Kakashi's chakra thinned, just slightly.
"Good," he said. "Now scowl less when we rejoin your teammates. They'll think I scolded you."
"You did," Sasuke said.
"That's classified."
Naruto's shoulders eased. I pulled my hand away from his mouth. He sucked in a breath like he'd been underwater.
"We're so screwed," he whispered.
"Accurate," I whispered back.
I wanted to march in there and demand a full briefing. Wanted to yell that "don't use it" wasn't a plan, it was a wish. Wanted to rip the bandage off and draw something over the seal that would make it harmless, even if it burned my own hands down to nothing.
I couldn't.
All my fuinjutsu was baby stuff. Tags and traps. Little scribbles at the edge of a system I didn't understand yet.
I could stabilize bleeding. Diagnose headaches. Nudge chakra in the right direction.
Defusing an S-class sociopath's cursed brand?
That was a different universe.
The door slid open suddenly. Kakashi stood there, hands in his pockets, eye smiling like nothing had happened.
Naruto and I both jumped guiltily.
"Done eavesdropping?" he asked.
"No," Naruto said.
"Yes," I said at the same time.
Kakashi's eye creased further. "Hm," he said. "Well, either way, get some rest. Next phase is going to be noisy."
Sasuke stepped out behind him, face smoothed back into that default blank. The bandage on his neck peeked from his collar. I couldn't read his chakra clearly from here; my own was too muddled.
He met my eyes for half a second. Something unreadable flickered there.
"You heard," he said quietly.
"Enough," I said.
His mouth twitched. "Then don't get in my way."
"Don't make me," I shot back.
Naruto groaned. "Can we not start another argument in the hallway? I just got told I passed. I'm trying to enjoy this."
Kakashi clapped a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. "Enjoy it while you can," he said. "The quiet never lasts."
His chakra, smooth silver and steel-gray, said the same thing.
We walked back toward the resting room together, the three of us in a row, our shadows overlapping on the beige floor.
Quiet between storms, I thought. Murder forest behind us, something worse ahead.
Ink and nerves, that's you, my brain whispered. Not strong enough to stop what's coming. Just strong enough to know it's coming.
I shoved the thought down.
For now, we were alive. Together. That had to be enough.
For now.
Naruto decided today was officially a win.
He'd put it in a mission report if anyone let him write one.
Objective: Survive murder woods. Status: Achieved. Bonus objectives: Don't die, don't let teammates die, punch at least one smug jerk into the dirt. Status: Achieved, achieved, achieved.
He lay on his assigned cot with his arms folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. The fluorescent lights buzzed. Somewhere, someone snored. Someone else muttered about sand in their shoes.
His shoulder hurt where the kunai had gone in. His legs felt like they'd been traded out for bricks. There was probably dirt in his hair forever now.
Didn't matter.
"We did it," he said aloud, grinning at the ceiling.
Across the aisle, Sylvie made a noise that might've been agreement and might've been her falling asleep sitting up. Sasuke was a silent lump with a bandage.
Naruto knew there was… stuff. Grown-up stuff. Heavy things with big words like "Orochimaru" and "targeting" and "dangerous." He'd heard Kakashi-sensei's voice in the other room, serious in a way that made his stomach knot.
He didn't understand all of it.
He did understand this: if he let that knot sit in his chest too long, it would turn into the kind of fear that made him freeze.
Freezing was for people who got left behind.
So he made himself think about the next thing instead.
Next round. Arena. Fights where nobody could hide behind trees or mist or stupid genjutsu. One-on-one, clear rules, everyone watching.
A chance to prove he wasn't just the kid who passed out while the important stuff happened. A chance to show off in front of the whole village. In front of the other teams. In front of the Hokage.
In front of Sylvie and Sasuke.
His grin sharpened. "Next time," he whispered, "I'm not sleeping through anything. Believe it."
He closed his eyes, finally, and let the exhaustion drag him under.
For now, the world was quiet.
He could rest.
Tomorrow, he'd make the noise.