Just as Sasori was marveling at Mukai's precise control over Chakra,
Mukai, his head drenched in sweat, grabbed Sasori with his left hand and pointed a finger at Konan and the other two.
"Sasori, trust the three of them, just like you trust me.
They aren't bad people. I can feel that their Chakra is full of kindness.
You have to save my arm..."
Precisely controlling Chakra under such a heavy load had drained too much of Mukai's energy. He passed out before he could finish speaking.
He had done everything he could, to the best of his ability.
Now that the bleeding had stopped, he should be able to hold on until they got back to Sunagakure, right?
Mukai's sudden collapse left Sasori at a loss.
Even unconscious, Mukai kept murmuring the same words:
"Sasori, whatever you do, don't do anything stupid..."
Mukai seemed a little unfamiliar to him now. The normally carefree guy seemed to have suddenly grown much more mature.
Yet even unconscious, the person he was worried about was still him.
Of course, Sasori didn't know
that Mukai's greatest concern before passing out was actually that Sasori might amputate his arm!
It could only be called a lucky accident. Those murmured words warmed Sasori's cold heart considerably.
Sasori touched Mukai's somewhat feverish forehead and suddenly spoke.
"Can you find a doctor?
I'll give you money and ninja tools in return."
In all his life, Sasori had never asked anyone for anything.
To save Mukai, he did something he had never done before and asked others for help.
Yahiko was unhappy with Sasori's tone, but he looked at the unconscious Mukai.
Perhaps it was what Mukai had said before passing out that had struck a chord with him.
Yahiko, who had originally wanted to stay out of trouble, rubbed his nose with a finger and said,
"There's a really good doctor near the shrine.
We can take you there, but I'm warning you:
don't hurt anyone, or we won't let you off!"
Sasori gave a nasal grunt in reply.
He caught the umbrella Yahiko tossed him,
then used Chakra Threads to carefully carry the unconscious Mukai on his back.
He followed Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato out of the room.
The village appeared to have dozens of houses, but there was no sign of life in it now.
Sasori held the umbrella in one hand and the Crow puppet's storage scroll in the other
as he made his way through the village ruins in the drizzling rain.
The group finally stopped in front of a wooden door concealed by a worn-out tarpaulin.
The door looked as though it were set amid a heap of ruins at the foot of a mountain.
Konan approached the wooden door and gave it a few rhythmic knocks.
The door opened a crack, revealing Yakushi Nonō's gentle but wary face.
She had pale blond hair and wore a hood. She looked to be in her early twenties,
and her round glasses and clean, wholesome air seemed completely out of place among the ruins.
"Doctor Nonō!"
Konan called out at once, her voice full of childlike trust and urgency.
"Please save him! He's badly hurt!"
Nonō's gaze quickly swept over Konan's worried face.
Her appraising gaze settled on Sasori, who wore a Sunagakure Forehead Protector.
The little red-haired ninja looked to be the same age as Yahiko and the others,
but his eyes were as fierce and frightened as those of a wounded young beast.
Nonō had seen many ninja like him on the battlefield.
Her gaze fixed on the black-haired child on Sasori's back. His right arm was a mangled mess,
but his face bore an unhealthy flush, and his breathing was faint.
Yakushi Nonō's gaze instantly became intensely focused.
It was a doctor's instinct upon seeing a critically injured patient.
"Come in, quickly!"
She immediately stepped aside to clear the way, her voice firm and steady.
Sasori gritted his teeth and staggered inside with Mukai on his back.
He was only a year older than Mukai, and he wasn't a ninja who specialized in Taijutsu.
It had long been accepted throughout the Shinobi World that puppeteers themselves were weak.
Carrying Mukai all the way here had left him exhausted too.
Once inside, he realized there was more to the place than met the eye.
Behind the ruins outside, the interior connected to a natural cave.
Several oil lamps burned inside, their light dim but warm, and the air smelled of herbs and disinfectant.
Several pale, emaciated children huddled on straw bedding in a corner, watching him with curiosity and fear.
"Lay him flat here.
You, the ninja from Sunagakure, please don't cause trouble here."
Nonō quickly cleared a platform covered with a clean white cloth, her movements swift and professional.
Sasori carefully laid Mukai down. Mukai's lips were still moving,
and Sasori's hands trembled slightly from tension and exhaustion.
Standing guard at the side, he gripped the scroll containing Crow tightly
and watched Nonō's every move, as though he would pounce if she made the slightest mistake.
Nonō paid no attention to Sasori's tension behind her.
She first bent down to examine Mukai's wound.
When she saw the somewhat gruesome wound and the exposed area that had been precisely cauterized to stop the bleeding,
a barely perceptible flash of shock crossed her eyes.
It was the first time she had seen a wound treated this way.
"That's a very unusual way to stop the bleeding! Who did it?"
she asked instinctively.
"Komushi... no, Mukai did it himself.
He's a very capable ninja too."
Sasori answered immediately, a defensive pride in his voice.
Then he added emphatically,
"You can't cut off his arm!
Mukai... he said it could be saved!"
Nonō raised her head and, through her lenses,
studied the boy, who was clearly of exceptional background
and wore the clothes of a Sunagakure Chunin at the age of seven or eight.
Yakushi Nonō reflected for a moment on the cruelty of war.
Fortunately, the Second Shinobi World War was finally over.
She neither argued nor made any promises, merely saying calmly in a thoroughly professional tone,
"I'm a doctor. It's my duty to do everything I can to save my patients' lives and limbs.
Now, I need you to stay quiet and not interfere while I save him."
As she spoke, Yakushi Nonō turned to the side
and looked at Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato, who were tensely standing guard beside her, their faces taut.
"There's no need to be nervous. Konan, help me prepare hot water and clean cloth.
Yahiko, Nagato, watch the door. There's no need to be nervous.
This ninja named Sasori won't hurt us, will he?"
Yakushi Nonō had heard the feverish, unconscious Mukai's murmurs,
and the Chakra Scalpel in her hand gave off a faint glow.
Sasori raised his head and glared at Yakushi Nonō, then put away the storage scroll in his hand and obediently sat down to wait.
Only then did Yakushi Nonō turn back and give Konan, who was holding a white cloth, a small smile.
"I'm going to start. Help me hold him down in a moment. I'm afraid cleaning the wound will hurt a lot."
Mukai seemed to be having a strange, fantastical dream.
In that dream were his many ideas about humanoid mecha like Gundams,
as well as the reason he had chosen to major in electrical engineering and automation.
The Gundam model that had accompanied him throughout his childhood, the laboratory, and all kinds of experimental data
mixed with Komushi's past against the glow of an ancient copper coin.
The basic Chakra Refinement Technique, the conflict between Wind Release and Lightning Release, and all the moments he had shared with Sasori.
Immersed in the fusion of memories, Mukai felt no pain in his arm at all.
As the memories merged, he also seemed to be gradually adapting to this body and to the world of Naruto.
Then a blue-violet light appeared in his world.
"You're awake?"