Cruel War

Only a dozen or so chunin remained in the clan grounds as guards, along with some clan members who had no chakra at all, and a small number of medical ninjas secretly led by Captain Aoba, who possessed the Mangekyo Sharingan.

Whether it was intentional on Tajima's part or an oversight, Aoba had been left behind in the clan grounds.

She temporarily took charge of clan affairs while also being responsible for treating the wounded sent back from the front lines.

Kosuke, now five years old, was at that moment inside a tent the Medical Unit had set up in the training grounds, assisting his busy mother.

"Senior Aoba, another batch of wounded has been sent back from the front lines. Their injuries are severe and need immediate treatment."

"I'm coming."

Following the method Kosuke had described the night before, Aoba stitched up the wound in a few quick motions and turned to walk out of the operating room.

As for the follow-up bandaging, that was left to the young children's medical team that Uchiha Kosuke had organized.

"Uchiha Mine! Take Hiko and half of the members, follow Captain Aoba to look after this batch of clan members."

"Understood, Captain Kosuke!"

Every time he heard these little brats shouting with serious expressions, Kosuke couldn't help but recall the scene when he had first formed this young children's medical team within the clan.

That wild, passionate scene was almost identical to some kind of activity from his previous life.

Yet he had never considered that the series of things he'd done by forming the young children's medical team would leave such a deep impression on these children's hearts.

One time, a little girl named Uchiha Chiba, only four years old.

On the fourth day after joining the young children's medical team.

She followed her companions as usual to the entrance of the clan grounds, to welcome the wounded being sent back from the front lines.

Busy at work, a tight strap hung across her small right shoulder, both hands straining to keep the wheelbarrow Kosuke had hastily made balanced.

At the same time, in front of her, another three-year-old little girl, also shouldering a strap, was bent over, pulling the wheelbarrow with all her might.

They headed toward the treatment area, which reeked of a strong smell of disinfectant mixed with the stench of blood.

As for this pungent odor, they seemed to have lost their sense of smell entirely, feeling nothing.

Beans of sweat dripped from their foreheads, each droplet splashing onto the bluestone slabs, forming beautiful little flowers.

And pairs like them, working together two by two, were countless.

Among them were also able-bodied adults and the elderly, all spontaneously contributing their own strength.

They all buried their heads in transporting clan members who were wailing, unconscious, or even had no breath left.

"Ch-Chiba, is that you?"

Hearing this familiar voice, she, who was struggling to keep the wheelbarrow balanced, suddenly stumbled, and the cart began to tip to one side.

At that moment, a nearby clansman carrying two lifeless members on his shoulder abruptly stretched out his foot and braced it, stopping the tilting wheelbarrow instantly.

Looking at the little girl puffing out her cheeks, tears streaming from her eyes, trying desperately to right the wheelbarrow.

The clansman gently applied pressure with his leg, and the cart steadied again.

Thinking the little girl was feeling guilty about the incident, he left a word of comfort and hurried away.

"Sister Chiba, are you okay? Do you want us to switch?"

The little girl in front turned back, looking at Chiba whose face was streaked with tears, and spoke to comfort her.

Chiba slowly shook her head, raised her hand to wipe the tears from her face, forced herself to stay calm, and indicated she was fine.

Then she bent down again, lifted the wheelbarrow, and continued forward with all her might.

But her gaze was fixed tightly on the weak man who had nearly been thrown off.

"Father, is that you?"

Hearing her own father's familiar voice, Chiba's heart simply couldn't believe that this clansman, pale-faced with one thigh severed, was the father who used to be so cheerful and smiling.

After a few cups of tea's time, the man, barely holding on from excessive blood loss, watched his daughter through blurry vision as she slowly pushed him to the treatment area.

As the clansmen quickly lifted him from the cart, his gaze never left Chiba's face, now a mess of tears.

Looking at her long clothes, covered in blood and filth, with not a single clean spot.

A faint, relieved smile struggled to form on his face.

"My little sweetheart... you've grown up..."

Then the clansmen roughly tore off his clothes, carefully examined his body, and after simply cleaning the stump of his thigh to ensure no more bleeding, set him aside to wait for the next round of treatment.

Another person filled out the relevant information on a wooden board and placed it on the wounded man's chest.

Then he moved to the next clansman, mechanically repeating the action.

And the little ones pushing the wheelbarrows, without a word, turned around and continued their transport tasks.

Just then, Kosuke, accompanied by a medical ninja, strode briskly over to this newly opened treatment area.

Looking up, he saw two little girls standing at the Wounded Placement Area, one of them seemingly at a loss, staring at the other.

Kosuke quickly walked over to them and saw Chiba, who had already dissolved into tears.

"Little Chiba, what's..."

Seeing Kosuke's arrival, Chiba clung to him like a lifeline, tugging at his hand while convulsing, her small mouth mumbling something about "Father?"

Was Chiba suddenly missing her father?

Kids were such a hassle—intermittently homesick, with no idea how to handle it.

Just as Kosuke was scratching his head in confusion, the ninja who had followed along slowly spoke up: "Little Kosuke, Little Chiba might have seen her father at the Wounded Placement Area, which is why she's crying so hard."

Was that so?

Looking at the little girl nodding vigorously, Kosuke had her lead the way.

If that was really the case, he didn't mind pulling a few strings for his own team member, cutting in line.

"Here, Father~"

Following Chiba's pointing hand, Kosuke saw a man lying unconscious with a Wood Block placed on his body.

"Alright, Little Chiba, you two go back to work first. If you get tired, head to our exclusive Rest Room to rest a bit, eat something to regain your strength. Leave this to me—I'll make sure your father returns home healthy, okay?"

Hearing Kosuke's voice, Chiba's sobbing gradually quieted, and the floodgates of tears in her eyes slowly stopped.

"Mm-hmm, thank you, Captain Kosuke! I'm not tired, I'll go back to work now."

With one last look at her unconscious father, Chiba turned and disappeared into the crowd with her companion, off to do what they could.

Father, you'll definitely get better, definitely!!!

Watching her receding figure, Kosuke turned and instructed the Medical Ninja: "Pick him up and take him to Captain Aoba."

"Understood."

Looking at the small figure steadily gaining prestige within the clan, the Medical Ninja didn't argue, bent down to lift the unconscious man, and walked away.

Kosuke's gaze shifted to the third treatment site, which was about to reach capacity. Thinking of his sister Mina, who was on the battlefield for the first time, a flicker of worry rose in his heart.

This war...

"Captain Kosuke, a Medical Ninja from Site Two is looking for you."

A sudden shout interrupted Kosuke's thoughts.

He turned to see a three-year-old boy stumbling and running toward him.

"Coming."