Chapter 42 -> Part 42

Sakumo caught up to me when I was halfway back to Kagami's office. "I think everyone can honestly say they were not expecting that little display."

"Good for them."

"The second breakfast is in a few minutes, are you hungry?"

"Yes, but I don't have any appetite right now."

"That's good enough for me."

"Um, did you just say 'second breakfast'?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Exactly how many meals does ANBU serve each day?"

"I'm not sure, but there's something to eat every few hours."

"So you're saying you eat like hobbits."

"I'm not exactly sure what a hobbit is."

"A peaceful creature about a hundred and twenty centimeters tall, with big hairy feet, and lives in the Shire. They eat as often as they can. They're sometimes called Halflings."

Sakumo took off his mask and looked down at me and compared our heights. I came up to about his ribs, to my annoyance. "Basically, you."

I opened my mouth to shoot back a smart retort, but nothing came to mind. "I guess I walked into that one."

"Yes, you did. Either way, ANBU missions aren't issued in the mornings or evenings like the rest of the shinobi corps. Anyone can get a mission at any time while they're on duty so everyone has to be well-fed. Besides, ANBU training takes a lot out of you."

"Good to know."

"Yes, and while you eat, I'll be picking your first victims for tomorrow!"

"You are too happy about this."

"Trust me, once the hazing starts, you'll be enjoying it just as much."

"They're not going to try hazing someone who has the power to kick them off the active duty roster."

"Kichiro, about eighty percent of ANBU could probably be kicked off active duty for latent medical problems as is. The last twenty percent have medical friends who take care of them. They're not going to care, especially since you're not anywhere near as vindictive as the rest of the Tsunade-trained medics."

"Medical treatment is not torture."

"Probably not, but the paperwork is. Wait here for a second."

I turned to ask why, but Sakumo was already gone. Thirty seconds later, he appeared at the end of the hall with a folder of papers.

He stopped in front of me and handed me the stack. "ANBU medical files are generally pulled from the hospital when someone joins. Until now, they've been destroyed, which means you'll have to rebuild all their files from scratch. Don't give me that look, you'll have a template and they'll be filling out the majority of it. If you catch or even suspect anyone of lying, give their name to Kagami and he'll take care of it. In your hands is what they'll be filling out. If you have anything to add, there's a few pages in the back. I don't think I need to say this, but while they're filling this out, you'll have the Hokage's copy of their shinobi file to read, which includes mission reports. Medical history will be inserted into that file only. They are the most highly classified files in the village. You are expected to bring each ANBU to full health by whatever means necessary, Hokage's orders. Whatever procedure you deem necessary is what they have to agree to. I know the hospital allows shinobi to refuse medical treatment, but as ANBU, they don't have that option. If something is beyond your abilities, the Hokage will have them sent elsewhere for treatment. Try not to permanently kick anyone out. The mess hall is through that door there. Turn in your edits of the medical file to the General when you're finished. I have things to do. Have fun!" With that, Sakumo was gone.

I rolled my eyes as I strode into the mess hall.

"Uzumaki!" Someone shouted over the buzz of conversation. I glanced around and saw a teenager waving at me. "Roach is looking for you!"

"Thanks?" I responded as I piled food onto my tray from the buffet-style servery.

The group of four teenage guys around him waved me over. I was no stranger to lunchroom drama, however I certainly did not appreciate the attempted trips, two people trying to flip my lunch tray in my face and several other shenanigans on my way, all of them from the adults. I had never actually been the target of teasing in school, but I still managed to avoid embarrassment well enough. I noticed that they were careful not to put the file in my hand into the line of fire. Soiling paperwork was apparently a 'not cool' move, however, I wasn't above stepping on ankles.

"Dude, can you actually eat all that?" Someone asked as I sat down in the spot they had cleared for me.

"You try living on less than a meal a day for over a year and see how much you can eat afterwards," I grumbled back.

They laughed good-naturedly. "But seriously, kid, that plate looks like it weighs more than you."

"If you say so." I started to shovel the food into my mouth.

"So, we heard you're the medic. Is that true?"

"Yup," I answered between bites.

"Hatake said no interrogations," the person directly to my right reprimanded.

That started a round of smart-ass retorts that had everyone laughing.

"You're all idiots," I laughed when it degenerated to name-calling.

"Takes one to know one," the person across from me commented.

"Right you are."

"Do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Mix up the order of your words."

"I do?"

"Yes."

I shrugged. "I never noticed. By the way, normally people introduce themselves before initiating conversation. I suppose I'm not the only person who has problems with the correct order."

A chorus of 'ooh's followed that statement.

The person who called me over to begin with spoke first. "I'm Ginger." He was not a redhead, which confused me.

"On his first day here, someone swapped all his food for a bunch of ginger. The General caught him with it and gave him a lecture on moderation and made him eat it all. Of course, he didn't find out until later that the General had pranked him in the first place." The person to my right explained. "I'm Cat. Most people here have nicknames or go by their mask. Only the really old folk bother with real names."

The person to my left stole the last piece of broccoli off my plate, narrowly avoiding my attempt to stab him with my chopsticks, which were metal for some reason, just like the tray. "I'm Midget."

I raised an eyebrow at that. He was actually rather tall.

"Tallest ANBU recruit in living memory," he explained then pointed at the last three people who raised their hands when their name was called. "That's Iwazaru, Mizaru, and Kikazaru, the Evil Trio. Iwazaru decided to annoy Hatake a year and a half ago, which was really bad timing. Can't speak anymore. Mizaru is blind and always has been. Kikazaru has been deaf for almost three years now and never said how or why. They're one of our best units, of the younger generation, but our least versatile, considering it's difficult for them to work with anyone else, for obvious reasons."

"Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil," I concluded.

"Of course."

"I suppose you rectified the perceptions of more than a few bigoted enemies with a justified humiliation."

The three snorted then all-out howled in laughter.

"That wasn't supposed to be funny, but if you say so. I suppose you understand everyone just fine then, correct?"

They nodded.

"Well, I'm Kichiro, in case you didn't know already."

"Why'd you join ANBU?" Ginger asked, running his fingers through his hair. He reminded me of how I imagined James Potter, but with red hair instead of black.

I shoveled the last bite of food in my mouth. "I'm pretty sure its classified to hell and back," I answered after I swallowed.

"You idiot!" Cat snapped. "Hatake said no interrogations!"

"It's just a friendly question, besides, you're curious too! Does it have something to do with 'living on less than a meal a day for over a year'?"

"Yes."

"So that means you were probably a prisoner somewhere," Ginger concluded. "And I think that's all the information we need on the matter." I nodded once, silently daring anyone to refute it.

"Okay, fine," Midget snapped. "There's a notice on the bulletin board that everyone has a physical coming up. I'm assuming you're responsible for it."

"Yup."

"So what's on said physical?"

"Assume everything, because I haven't decided yet and basically have free reign."

They all grimaced.

"To quote Sakumo-sensei, I am 'expected to bring each ANBU to full health by whatever means necessary, Hokage's orders.' Sucks for everyone because I'm the one who has to do the majority of the paperwork."

"ANBU rarely has any paperwork, you know that, right?"

"Well, I'm under the impression that there's a change in policy since this lot keeps dying."

They all grimaced and the conversation stilled. I took the opportunity to open the medical file and start skimming. I recognized Tsunade's handwriting, any combat medic knew it since she was the leading expert for battle medics. While she was reasonably capable, she had little presence in pediatrics, geriatrics, veterinary, general care, or anything else. That was almost completely taken over by a trio of women: Sarutobi Biwako, the wife of the Hyuuga patriarch, and the current Inuzuka matriarch. One of the things that made me even more of an anomaly was that I could fill in practically anywhere. While all ninja medics were trained in combat medicine, they generally only took up one other specialty during peacetime. The fact that I had a working knowledge, at the very least, of every branch was probably one of the many reasons I was stuck in ANBU instead of reassigning a squad of medics with diverse talents.

Halfway through, I looked up. The so-called evil trio had left, but the others were peering curiously at my assigned reading. "You guys have been here long enough you can answer some questions, right?"

"Probably," Midget responded. "It depends on how classified the information you want is."

"Can everyone in ANBU administer emergency first aid to a teammate?"

"Of course," Ginger responded. "Civilian-level first aid is part of initiation training." I noticed they all winced at that, but I was much more interested in what he had to say next. "Most of the older agents can close skin and dull pain as well."

"Wait, are you telling me that some of the older ANBU can substitute as an emergency medic?"

"Of course! Everyone knows that the more medical treatment accessible in the field, the more likely the mission is to succeed."

"Okay, so how often does an injury not receive immediate basic treatment?"

"Well, it depends on the severity of the injury," Cat explained. "If you can still get back home at a reasonable speed, you're on your own with treatment."

I scowled. "And how often does everyone get injured?"

They exchanged glances. "Well, obviously, every mission has its bumps and bruises," Cat volunteered.

"No one advertises it when they get injured," Midget shifted uncomfortably.

"Fine. When was each of your last missions?"

"Got back yesterday," Ginger was the first to answer.

I looked at Cat next. "Five days ago and I'm leaving on another tonight," he answered.

Midget scowled, but answered without prompting. "Three days ago and I'm leaving tomorrow."

"So you're saying the rest time between missions is usually only a few days?"

"No, it's normally a week, but since we're younger and can bounce back faster, we have more frequent missions."

"I see. Have any of you been injured in the past six weeks?"

All three of them scowled at the question. "We're not exactly encouraged to tell anyone about injuries," Ginger admonished.

I scowled. "Fine." I turned back to the folder. Not even a minute later, the door to the cafeteria burst open.

"Uzumaki! Get your ass to the General's office yesterday!" A masked ANBU barked into the room.

"Why?" I asked, as I closed the file and tucked it under my arm. Cat took my tray.

"We don't question orders here, runt, now get on it!" He vanished from the doorway.

I rolled my eyes but hurried anyways. Less than a minute later, I arrived and knocked on the door. It opened automatically and Kagami, with the weasel mask in place, jabbed his finger towards one of the ANBU kneeling in front of him, who was covertly trying to hide the blood dripping onto the wood floor.

"Uzumaki, fix her." He turned to the others. "He's ANBU's new medic. Rabbit, go sit over there so he can stop you from making a mess of my office. Donkey, continue with your report, Uzumaki has clearance." Kagami pointed at a low, metal table shoved against the wall. There was a stack of files with a 'for Kichiro' note on top in Sakumo's handwriting. I tossed the file under my arm on top of the note as Rabbit took a seat on the empty end of the table.

I barely managed to keep my expression neutral as I noticed the basic treatment kit behind the files. "Where's the injury?" I asked in an undertone so I didn't disturb the report. The ANBU, which I was certain was female, indicated towards her side. I crouched, untied the armor and lifted it up so I could see the extent of the gash. It looked as if someone had managed to slide two blades underneath her armor and slice into both the front and back of her torso. I motioned for her to remove the armor, not paying the slightest attention to the debriefing.

The woman had wrapped the wounds with bandages, which were soaked with blood. I was ninety percent sure she had wrapped it herself, because anyone should have been able to do better for a comrade and she had four teammates. She pulled off her uniform shirt so she was wearing nothing more than a ratty undershirt and the stiff cloth most kunoichi used to bind their chests.

I unwound the bandages while she tried not to wince as it tugged at the poorly treated wound. The second I could see what I was working with, I started healing. Her ribs had done their job and stopped the blade from hitting any organs, even though they earned a number of gouges in the process. It took me a while to heal the bone. Partway through, Kagami barked my name.

"Uzumaki!" I ignored it, concentrating on my job until Kagami grabbed my shoulder without warning and spun me around. I moved to defend myself in alarm before I recognized him. "Obviously, you weren't listening. Did you have anything to add to the file you were given?"

"I didn't finish it, but Tsunade wrote it and she's twice as anal as I could ever be about shinobi health. If I have anything to add, I'll figure something out."

Kagami stood up and shoved four files towards the ANBU reporting then dropping the last one beside the woman I was treating. "Fill these out and report back to me. Uzumaki, stay, the rest of you, out."

They certainly didn't have to be told twice. When they were gone, Kagami took off his mask and returned to behind his desk to retrieve a towel and throw it at my face. I used it to wipe the woman's blood off my hands. When I finished, repacked the kit and folded the towel beside it, Kagami looked up from the seat behind his desk.

"While I appreciate your dedication to your job, you are in ANBU now and I am the General. That means I am your General and my word is law in this building. I don't mind a little disrespect or smart comments when no one is around, but I will not tolerate insubordination on any level, and from now on, you will be punished accordingly if it happens in front of anyone again. I tell you to jump, you ask how high. Am I clear?"

I gritted my teeth, glaring at his desk.

"As long as you are a part of ANBU, voluntary or not, you will abide by that maxim. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," I forced out.

"Thank you." He pointed towards the stack of files on the low table. "Those are the first few files of the people you will be treating. You don't have to read the entire file, but I would prefer it if you do. Take a left out of my office and the eighth door on you right will be your office. Tsunade-hime made a list of everything you might need. If you need special medicine or other fancy doctor things, I'll arrange for you to get them. There's two rooms, one for patients to wait, and one for you to give treatment and keep sensitive files in. It's almost eleven now, and when you finish with everyone, the rest of the night is yours. Someone will take you to training tomorrow and the day after. On the third day, you will report here at eight, take the next stack of files, and give checkups and treatments. For now, your schedule will continue as such, two days of training, one day of medic duty until you've completed initiation. Dismissed."

I scowled, snatched the stack of files off the table and left without a word.

When I jerked open the door, several people almost fell inside. I stared at them for a long time, confused, and they stared back in what I think was either awe or disbelief, which only confused me more.

"I am absolutely sure all of you maggots have a job to be doing right now!" Kagami snapped from his desk. They all fled and the hallway emptied faster than I could say 'what'. I still made sure to slam the door behind me.

By the time I reached the room I would be setting up shop in, my anger had cooled. The waiting room was painted a pale, pleasant green with the Konoha insignia on the right wall, drawn with bold, black paint. On the left wall was the ANBU insignia. A few chairs were scattered around the room and a small table with a deck of cards was set up in the center. As far as waiting rooms went, it was alright. I walked straight through the room into the next one. There was a metal examination table in the center of the room, a sink in the far right corner, and a desk in the far left, facing the door. The rest of the walls were covered with metal cupboards, all meticulously labelled in alphabetical order. I familiarized myself with where everything was, eventually finding my haori folded in one of the otherwise-empty desk drawers. I shrugged and put it on, figuring I might as well be recognizable. It would look a little weird with the ANBU uniform if the time came, but I went with it.

I had just sat down on top of the desk, leaving the doors wide open, when someone knocked on the door frame.

I looked up at the annoyed man in front of me. The hair around his temples was beginning to turn from dull black to grey. He wore the standard ANBU uniform, like everyone else in the place, and from the file in his hand, I guessed he was here on Kagami's orders. "ANBU Panther reporting to initiate Uzumaki for routine medical treatment." That confirmed my guess. I flipped open the cover of the first file and, sure enough, saw a sketch of him, albeit about a decade younger, glaring back at me. Of the five files I had been given, his was definitely the thickest and I didn't exactly want to read it.

"Nice to meet you, Senju-san, I'm Uzumaki Kichiro." He flinched at his name and stepped forward to hand me the file in his hand, closing the door behind him. "Thank you. Have you been injured in the past year?"

He hesitated before answering with an affirmative. He stood stiffly beside my desk while I read.

"You can sit down if you want," I pointed towards the chair behind the desk, wheeling it out from behind it. He didn't sit.

According to his file, he had never been seen by a medic nin. From his age, it was somewhat believable.

"Do you have any current injuries?"

"Nothing beyond standard scrapes and bruises."

"Do you have any pain or difficulty associated with movement?"

"I do not."

"Any abnormal fatigue, loss of memory, or delayed reactions?"

"I do not."

"Have you had any decline in sensory perception?"

"I have not."

"Have you ever had a diagnostics jutsu performed on you?"

"I have not."

I jumped off the desk. "Please sit down wherever, Senju-san." I bounced over to the sink to wash my hands. There wasn't any soap, so I heated the water flowing across my hands with chakra until it nearly boiled on contact, a unique application for a basic fire manipulation exercise. The hot water didn't burn me since it was heated by my chakra. He slid the chair over against the wall and sat down with his back to it. "The diagnostic jutsu feels similar to a Genjutsu, but the chakra itself feels much different, at least that's what I'm told. To me, they have nothing in common."

He eyed me skeptically.

"Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"Just do your job."

"I am. Only Tsunade and her disciples are mean or frightening when administering treatment. No one should fear their doctors. Besides, I prefer to keep my head where it is, think you very much. Medical Ninjutsu takes time to accustom yourself to, and the first time is nerve wracking, which means I'm the one in the line of fire when dealing with high-level ninja"

"You don't seem to approve of Tsunade-hime's methods."

"No, I do not, and I'm perfectly aware of the fact you are stalling."

"But you still have the same blunt nature as her."

"It's one thing to be blunt and another to be cruel. Would you like to lie down or may I begin?"

"You're extremely young to be a full-fledged doctor, even by shinobi standards."

"Yeah, well, age is a hallmark of experience, not skill," I scowled.

"Experience has a lot to do with skill," he retorted.

"If you wanted to know if I'm qualified, you could have just asked. I try to avoid arguing with patients. I am not naïve enough to think you didn't look up my stats before you came. The last time I checked, which was just after my first mission, my patients had a ninety-seven percent survival rate and I have a ninety-six percent success rate. Less than one percent of my failures have occurred within the village where I have had adequate supplies. I won't make a mistake here, Senju-san. You have my word."

"I haven't been addressed by my personal name in over a decade."

"I do have a job to do. While it is much more flexible than standard assignments, it is still a job."

He nodded once and closed his eyes. "Go ahead." When I touched his forehead, he flinched, and stiffened when I began the diagnostics, but in a few seconds, I finished and returned to my desk to write down the results. "And?" He prompted.

I responded while writing. "There's a lot of impressive scarring to your soft tissues. There is scar tissue impairing the movement of most of your joints. The fact that it's not causing you any pain is odd, but I assume you're just accustomed to it. I can dissolve the majority of it if you would like. It's simple, but time consuming. On another note, you have broken several bones and they didn't heal properly. I would like to fix that. Finally, I'm not entirely sure how you can walk, much less be a shinobi. Several ligaments in your lower leg have been severed and that really needs to be fixed."

"I see."

"Are you ready to begin?"

"Is it urgent?"

"Well, obviously you're fine right now, but how long do you think you can last on the field when you're not at your top speed? From what I can tell, the original injury to your leg only damaged one ligament, but continued use snapped it and several others as well. You should not be able to walk right now, or at least not without a severe limp. Besides, it would save us all a bunch of time if you got treatment now instead of later."

He eyed me carefully. "Do I have a choice?"

"I'm under the impression that you do not, but it's not like I'm capable of forcing you to stay. I will be letting Kaga—the General know if you refuse treatment. It'll be between you and him then." I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Very well. I will remain and let you do your job."

"Okay, then I'll start by fixing the damaged ligaments." I turned around, walking over to the opposite wall and pulled down a set of hospital clothes to toss on the table without looking. "Put those on, working through clothing is more trouble than its worth. Dump your stuff in the chair."

While I waited for him to do that, I climbed the cabinets to reach the very top shelf where the scalpels were kept. While it was possible for me to perform surgery without any supplies, I preferred to see what I was doing and I had plenty of chakra to fix the patient up like new afterwards.

"You're going to fall," he warned me.

"Just because I'm not a super powerful veteran like you doesn't mean I can't climb a few shelves," I retorted as I tried to decide which blade to use. "Besides, you still need to change." I glanced over my shoulder and the motion dislodged the shelf my feet were on. "Shit!" I yelped and jumped backwards, landing with my scalpel in hand, thankfully, nothing fell out after me. "Who the hell doesn't nail down the stupid shelves?"

"I warned you."

"You did, thanks. You still haven't changed yet." I mustered my dignity and stalked back to my desk to scribble down the procedure. By the time I finished, there was a pile of weapons on the chair just inside my peripheral and the man was standing behind me, reading over my shoulder. It was a bit unnerving, but I tolerated it. Finally, I turned to face him. "I would prefer to work with you unconscious. If you aren't comfortable with that, it's not necessary, however, there is a condition."

"The condition?"

"No interrupting my work. Questions are fine, but no stopping me or attacking me or running away or I knock you unconscious. It'll take longer that way because I'll have to deaden the nerves then reawaken them, otherwise you'll be in pain the whole time and that's wholly unnecessary. What'll it be?" I always gave shinobi a choice when it came to minor surgery since it never took long. Even so, I always felt awkward, I was asking them if they wanted to watch me cut them open. I found it ironic that of the four shinobi who chose to watch their own surgery, all four of them ended up puking. I had a good laugh about it afterwards, since all of them had received worse injuries in the field and it hadn't fazed them at all.

The Senju thought about it for a few minutes before he chose to allow me to knock him unconscious. Fixing the ligaments in his leg took me twenty minutes. Not for the first time, I praised medical ninjutsu. It made it ten times easier to find the damaged tendons and ligaments and I didn't have to sew them together; a minute of healing chakra repaired what could only be several years of damage. I spent another ten minutes healing the damage to the muscles and bones before closing the incision. Given most of the man's injuries were over a decade old, he was very obviously good at his job. Unfortunately, that made my job harder.

The scar tissue affecting his movement was that much harder to remove from his joints. Repeated sprains and dislocations were, in my opinion, more annoying for a medic than the person injured. A fresh sprain literally took seconds to heal. It only took a minute to fix the scarring from sprain that just finished healing naturally. Year-old sprains weren't much worse. The problems with fixing the damage started when the scar tissue set into the injured joint and the patient started compensating for the change. Dissolving scar tissue was just plain annoying and time consuming. I spent the next thirty minutes on that project.

Bone was a hell of a lot simpler. I didn't actually need to re-break and fix the healing of nine ribs, eight fingers, two toes, and a left ulna that had broken in four places, but I sincerely doubted I would ever see the man again and I didn't need to be a medic to see that his broken fingers hindered his movement. I finished in twenty minutes.

I woke the man up, ready to leap back if he reacted violently. Fortunately, he didn't do anything but grab my wrist before he recognized me.

"Stand up and walk around a little," I ordered, pulling out of his grip. He nodded and stood up, shaking out his limbs. "Any pain?"

"None at all. What did you do?"

I snorted. "I suppose you never realized how much pain you were in in the first place. You might be a little stiff for a while. Take it easy for about five or six hours so the healing has a chance to make sure it will stay healed. When I say take it easy, I mean sit and read a book or take a nap and if you absolutely feel the need to go somewhere, take it at lazy civilian speed. After dinner, start training, and don't forget. You're going to move slightly differently now and you need to get used to it before your next mission. If you have any questions or find yourself injured again, come find me. You're free to go." He was already gone, already ignoring my order to walk.