The two medical ninjas Murahashi Hazuki had brought began examining the wounded, their movements light and practiced as they changed IV bottles and medication.
"This might hurt a little, so don't move around." The speaker was a long-haired, black-haired female ninja who looked no older than eighteen or nineteen, radiating youthful beauty.
She was gently changing the dressing on a boy whose arm was splinted.
The boy's face instantly flushed red. The furrow in his brow caused by pain smoothed out at once, replaced by an expression of feigned toughness. "This little pain is nothing compared to fighting."
Yet his gaze wandered, and he did not dare look the female ninja in the eyes.
The female ninja changing his dressing merely smiled without exposing his bravado, continuing to focus on her work.
Lying in his hospital bed, Jiraiya could not help bursting into laughter at the sight.
That's more like it. This is how adolescent boys ought to be—blushing when they see pretty girls, pretending to stay calm.
Otherwise, I'd have thought every last one of them had been brainwashed.
"All right, Mr. Jiraiya." Murahashi Hazuki came to Jiraiya's bedside with a clipboard in hand, writing something on it.
"Take off your shirt."
Jiraiya immediately fell silent. Watching the female ninja, barely nineteen, put on medical gloves and tear open a packet of ointment, he hurriedly said, "I can do it myself. I'm completely fine already!"
"Oh? One of the legendary Sannin is getting shy?" Murahashi Hazuki showed no mercy with her words, a teasing smile curling at the corner of her lips.
Even Jiraiya could not help blushing.
Though he was usually carefree and acted like a lecher, peeping into women's bathhouses, writing erotic novels, and drinking with hostesses at izakayas—
When a girl actually examined his body, he