The hour before departure felt longer than it should have.
That was usually how it went. Give a shinobi three days to prepare and they would complain about not having enough time. Give them an hour and suddenly every second dragged like the universe had personally decided to be annoying.
The camp moved around us quietly. ANBU checked gear beneath the rain. Clan shinobi reviewed maps and hand signals. Medics packed emergency supplies into sealed scrolls. Weapon pouches were refilled. Orders passed between squad leaders in low voices.
No one joked.
No one laughed.
Even Nawaki had gone quiet.
I stood beneath the partial cover of a soaked canvas awning near the edge of camp, watching rain drip from the corner in steady little streams. Yukino stood a few steps away from me.
Still. Too still.
Her arms were folded inside her sleeves, her pale eyes fixed somewhere beyond the camp. The lantern light caught the side of her face, soft and warm against the cold gray of the rain.
She looked calm. Perfectly calm. Which meant she absolutely was not.
I had learned that lesson well.
Minato stood nearby, checking the markings on several kunai. He wasn't looking at us, but I knew he was listening.
For a while, none of us said anything.
Then Yukino spoke. "It's disgusting."
Her voice was quiet.
Not cold.
Not sad.
Quiet.
I glanced at her. "What is?"
She did not look at me. "The poison."
Fair.
I looked back toward the camp. "Yeah."
"No." Her hands tightened inside her sleeves. "Not just the poison itself."
I waited.
She inhaled slowly through her nose. "It's deliberate." The word came out sharper than a kunai. "Every part of it is deliberate. The way it spreads. The way it blinds. The way it leaves people alive afterward." Her jaw tightened. "It is not enough for them to kill shinobi. It is not enough to win battles. They have to take everything."
Rain tapped against the canvas.
Minato's fingers paused over one of his marked kunai.
Yukino's eyes narrowed. "Uchiha Renji will live. Maybe. But his eyes are gone. His career is gone. His way of moving through the world is gone. He survived, and they still stole his life."
I didn't answer immediately.
Because what was I supposed to say?
She was right.
Completely right.
The Sight-Blight wasn't murder.
It was theft.
A shinobi's body.
A clan's inheritance.
A person's future.
All taken away and left breathing.
Somehow that felt crueler than death.
Yukino's still expression hadn't changed much, but her hands were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were pale.
I'd seen Yukino angry before.
Annoyed, definitely.
I had a talent for creating that one.
I had seen her frustrated.
I had seen her sharp.
I had seen her cold toward enemies and dismissive toward idiots.
But this?
This wasn't irritation. This wasn't wounded pride. This was genuine fury. And for a moment, I realized I wasn't sure I had ever seen her this mad.
"It targets the Hyūga," she said, "it targets the Uchiha. It targets anyone whose eyes give Konoha an advantage. Anyone who can detect traps. Anyone who can track movements. Anyone who can expose enemy formations." Her fingers curled tighter. "And everyone else caught in the spread simply becomes acceptable damage."
I swallowed. "Yuki..."
She finally turned her head toward me. Her eyes were pale and steady, now narrowed in a way that terrified me. "Do you know what blindness means to the Hyūga?"
I didn't answer.
She continued anyway. "We are raised with our eyes as proof of duty. Proof of worth. Proof that we belong to the clan. Every stance. Every strike. Every lesson. Everything begins with vision." A bitter edge entered her voice. "People think the Byakugan is just a weapon. It is not. It is how we understand the world."
Her gaze moved toward the medical tent. "And now Sunagakure has created something designed to destroy that, and everyone else gets harmed in the cross fire."
The rain slid down her hair.
My chest felt tight.
I hated this.
I hated that she had to think about it.
I hated that my first reaction in the briefing had been fear for her.
Not for the clans.
Not even for the other missing platoons.
Her.
That made me selfish.
I knew it.
Didn't care.
"I don't want you near it," I said.
The words came out before I could stop them.
Minato's eyes shifted toward me.
Yukino stared.
I grimaced. "I didn't mean to say that outloud... I mean... It's just... Maybe that came out worse than I meant." I didn't know what I wanted to say here.
"No," she said. "It sounded exactly how you meant it."
"Probably."
Her eyes narrowed. "Shiro."
"I know."
"Do you?"
I rubbed the back of my neck and exhaled. "I know you're going. I know you're one of the best people for this mission. I know we need your Byakugan. I know you're a Jōnin. I know you can make your own choices. I know all of that."
She watched me.
I looked away. "And I still hate it."
The rain filled the silence between us. A few shinobi passed nearby, speaking quietly. Neither of us paid them any attention. Yukino's expression softened by a fraction. Not enough to erase the anger. Just enough to make her look more like herself.
"I hate it too," she said.
That caught me off guard.
She looked back toward the camp. "I hate that I am useful because I am exactly what this poison was made to destroy. I hate that my eyes make me valuable and vulnerable at the same time. I hate that if I stay behind, someone else may die because I was not there to see what they could not. I hate that I'm scared."
Her voice lowered. "And I hate that if I go, you will spend the entire mission worrying."
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
Damn.
She had me there.
"I can worry professionally," I said.
Her lips barely twitched. "That is not a thing."
"It can be."
"It should not be."
"I'll workshop the name."
"Please don't."
Minato finally spoke, his voice calm. "Anger is reasonable."
Both of us looked at him.
He tied off one of his kunai pouches and slipped it onto his belt.
"This poison was made to create fear. Not just casualties. Fear." His gaze moved toward the medical tent. "If the Uchiha and Hyūga start hesitating every time the Sand use needles or smoke, then the poison works even when it doesn't touch anyone."
Yukino's expression shifted.
Listening.
Minato looked at her. "I don't think your anger or fear are wrong."
Annoyingly reasonable.
MInato continued. "But we should make sure it helps us," he said. "Not them."
Yukino held his gaze for a moment. Then she nodded once. "Right."
I sighed. "See, that's why you're the reasonable one."
Minato smiled faintly. "Someone has to be, we can't all be dummies like you."
"Rude."
"Accurate."
"I preferred you when you were quiet."
"No you didn't."
Unfortunately, he was right.
Yukino exhaled slowly.
Some of the tension left her shoulders.
Not all of it.
Enough.
"Fear is exactly what they want," she said.
Minato nodded. "Yes."
"Then they will not have mine. I'll act inspite of it."
I glanced at her.
There she was.
Hyūga Yukino.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
Stubborn enough to argue with death out of principle.
Something in my chest loosened.
Then immediately tightened again because that didn't actually make the mission less dangerous.
Damn it.
Then a familiar voice cut through the rain.
"Well, well. Look at you three, brooding under an awning like tragic protagonists."
I turned.
Tsunade approached from the direction of the medical tent, one hand on her hip, damp blonde hair clinging slightly to her forehead. Her expression was tired, but her steps remained firm.
She looked like she hadn't slept.
Probably because she hadn't.
"Tsunade-sensei," I said.
She glanced at me. "You look like you're about to say something stupid."
"I hadn't decided yet."
"My, now that's progress."
She stopped in front of us and looked at Yukino, her teasing faded. "I heard part of that."
Yukino lowered her head slightly. "My apologies."
"For being angry?" Tsunade asked.
Yukino said nothing.
Tsunade snorted. "Don't apologize for that."
Rain drummed around us.
Tsunade crossed her arms. "If anything, you're taking it better than I would."
That drew Yukino's attention.
Tsunade looked toward the medical tent, where Renji was being treated somewhere inside.
"I understand you more than you think. Chiyo has been a thorn in my side for years." Her jaw tightened. "Every time I think I've gotten used to the way that old hag thinks, she invents something worse."
There was real venom in her voice.
Not loud or dramatic. Just personal.
Perhaps even professional.
Both most likely.
"I've spent more nights than I care to count undoing her poisons. Blood toxins. Paralytics. Chakra disruptors. Muscle necrosis compounds. Nerve agents." Tsunade's eyes hardened. "But this one?"
She looked back at Yukino. "This one makes me want to break something."
Yukino nodded.
Tsunade continued, "A poison made to cripple instead of kill is one of the ugliest things a medic can face."
Her hands tightened into fists. "Death is terrible. But this? Leaving someone alive with everything stolen from them? That's cruelty pretending to be strategy."
That was exactly it.
Chiyo had always been dangerous. This made her vile.
Yukino's voice was quiet. "Can you cure it?"
Tsunade did not answer immediately. That alone was an answer.
"I can slow it," she said. "Maybe. I can stabilize some damage. Prevent certain complications. Keep victims alive longer."
Yukino's gaze did not waver. "But?"
"But I need a sample." Tsunade said. "A real one. Fresh poison. Delivery needle. Residue. Smoke compound. Anything from the source."
I crossed my arms. "We're probably going to run into whoever's using it."
"Undoubtedly, which means I expect you to bring me something useful."
"No pressure."
"Plenty of pressure."
"Wonderful."
Her gaze shifted to Yukino again. "If you bring me a sample, I will work it out."
Yukino was silent.
Tsunade leaned closer, eyes serious. "I mean that. I don't care if it's Chiyo's masterpiece. I don't care how many layers she built into it. I don't care what ingredient she found. I have broken her poisons before, and this time will be no different." Her voice lowered. "But I need the poison."
Yukino nodded. "Then we will get it."
"Good." Tsunade's expression softened. "That said…" I immediately didn't like her tone. Tsunade looked toward the medical tent. "For those who have already lost their eyes, I don't know if I can restore them."
The words were not cruel.
They were worse.
Honest.
"Even if I create an antidote, necrotic tissue is still necrotic tissue. If the eye is gone, it's gone. I can save the patient. I can stop the spread. I can prevent death. But I can't regenerate an organ from nothing."
Yukino looked down. Only for a second. Then up again. "Understood."
Tsunade looked like she hated saying it. "I'll do everything I can."
And she would. That was the thing. No one who knew Tsunade could doubt that.
She would break herself before giving less than everything.
But everything had limits.
For now.
My gaze dropped toward my own hands.
Eyes.
Organs.
Regeneration.
Tsunade couldn't regenerate organs.
Not yet.
The thought lodged in my mind immediately.
A few years ago, I would have treated that as impossible.
A body was a body.
Lose an eye, lose an arm, lose a lung, and that was it.
But the more I learned, the more that word annoyed me.
Impossible.
Shinobi loved that word until someone proved them stupid.
Medical ninjutsu could close wounds.
Repair muscle.
Reconnect tissue.
Restart hearts if you were fast and skilled enough.
But here's the thing, if the Strength of a Hundred could force a body to survive damage that should have killed it a hundred times over and actually let you regenerate your own body... Why shouldn't a medical nin be capable of regenerating someone else?
Why couldn't medical ninjutsu grow what had been lost?
The idea was insane.
Naturally.
Most good ideas started there.
Maybe not now.
Maybe not in a month.
Maybe not even in years.
But someday?
Maybe.
Future Shizune's face flashed briefly through my mind. Tsunade's apprentice. Medical genius in her own right. Now that I think about it... Wasn't she someone who could regenerate organs? It's been so long I no longer remember.
"Shiro."
I blinked.
Tsunade was staring at me.
Yukino too.
Minato had that look on his face that said he knew I had just thought of something worrying.
Rude.
"What?" I asked.
Tsunade's eyes narrowed. "You had that look."
"What look?"
"The one where you're about to do something brilliant or extremely stupid."
"Those are often the same thing."
"That's what worries me."
I shrugged. "Just thinking."
"About?"
I looked toward the medical tent. "Organs."
Tsunade stared.
Minato and Yukino tilted their heads.
"Organs?" she repeated. "Do you have a fever or did you hit your head on the way here?" she turned to the others. "Did he hit his head?"
They shook their heads.
"Regeneration," I clarified.
Tsunade's expression shifted.
Sharp interest.
"That is not something simple you can solve in a week or two."
"I know."
"Probably not possible with current medical ninjutsu."
I looked at her. "Current medical ninjutsu."
She held my gaze.
Then, slowly, her mouth curved. Not a smile exactly. "Careful, kid."
"With what?"
"Start thinking like that and medicine stops being a profession." Her eyes gleamed faintly. "It becomes a war."
I smiled. "Good thing we're already in one."
Tsunade laughed out loud.
Minato sighed. "That sounded ominous."
"It sounded productive," I corrected.
"It sounded like future trouble."
"Most progress does."
"Unfortunately, that's probably true."
Tsunade shook her head, but some of the heaviness in her face eased.
Only a little.
"Survive this mission first," she said. "Then maybe we can talk about breaking the laws of medicine."
"Deal."
She pointed at me. "And bring me a sample."
"Yes, Sensei."
"Preferably without poisoning yourself."
"No promises."
"Shiro." Yukino spoke up.
"Fine. Some promises."
Yukino's hand lightly struck my arm. "Full promises."
I looked at her.
She stared back.
So I smiled softly. "Full promises."
She nodded once. "Good. Don't make me worried like that, you little snowflake."
Minato finished checking his kunai and tucked the final one away. "We should prepare."
"Already did," I said.
"You packed medical supplies?"
"Yes."
"Wire?"
"Yes."
"Explosive tags?"
"Yes."
"Antidotes?"
"Standard ones, yes."
"Spare gloves?"
I paused.
Minato looked at me.
Yukino looked at me.
Tsunade looked at me.
I sighed. "I'll get spare gloves."
I left them for a few minutes to retrieve the extra supplies from my pack near the staging area. Around me, the camp went from tension to motion. That was the thing about Shinobi. Fear was allowed. Anger was allowed. Disgust was allowed. But once the order came, everything became movement.
ANBU gathered in silent clusters.
Hyūga shinobi prepared mentally while practicing martial art movements.
Uchiha stood together, grim and focused.
Medics sealed equipment scrolls and distributed emergency kits.
Nawaki argued with Jiraiya about something near the center of camp until Tsunade shouted his name again and he immediately became busy elsewhere.
Orochimaru stood near the edge of a tent, speaking quietly with two ANBU while rain ran down his face. He looked completely unbothered by the weather.
Of course he did.
Snake bastard.
Dan was helping organize evacuation stretchers with a few medics. When he noticed me looking, he nodded once.
I nodded back.
Kato Dan.
Alive.
Important.
Another person history wanted dead.
Wonderful.
My life had become a list of people I was determined to keep alive out of spite.
I wasn't sure if that was healthy.
Probably not.
I returned to the awning with my gloves stuffed into one pouch and a few extra shuriken tucked into another.
Yukino noticed immediately.
"You got them?"
"Yes."
"Good."
For a few seconds, the camp sounded almost calm.
Then Hatake Sakumo appeared near the center of camp.
He did not shout.
He did not need to.
Somehow everyone noticed anyway.
The White Fang stepped onto a flat stone half-buried in the mud, rain sliding from his shoulders and every shinobi in the camp turned toward him.
ANBU.
Jōnin.
Clan heirs.
Medics.
The Sannin.
Dan.
Nawaki.
Minato.
Yukino.
Me.
Sakumo's eyes moved across the gathered force.
"We have confirmed survivors," he said. "We have confirmed the poison weapon. Our objectives are unchanged. Recover our comrades. Secure a sample. Identify the source."
His voice carried through the rain without rising. "There will be no unnecessary risks. No pursuit beyond mission limits. If a comrade falls, they are not abandoned. If a survivor is found, they are prioritized."
He looked toward the western treeline as he spoke.
No one cheered.
No one shouted.
Sakumo looked back at us. "Our comrades are waiting. We're going to bring them home."
That was all.
No grand speech or a dramatic promise to crush the enemy. Just certainty. Somehow, coming from him, that was enough.
Around me, shinobi began to move as the rain fell harder. Ahead, beyond the trees, comrades waited blind and poisoned in the dark.
And we were coming.