Naruto: Hatake's No Misfortune

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"You bastard, Muzan! You left us out there for days!" Anko's usually spirited demeanor was gone, replaced by exhaustion and frustration. Her disheveled appearance spoke volumes about what she had endured.

She struck Muzan's chest with her fists, venting her anger.

"Do you have any idea how long I waited for you? Three whole days!"

After they had separated, Anko assumed Muzan had been delayed by unforeseen circumstances. Given the situation, she and Mari didn't dare change their position, sticking to the original plan.

They waited three days as agreed, then started their return on the sixth day.

When Anko and Mari finally made it back to camp, they didn't rest. Instead, they immediately began searching for Muzan.

What they discovered left Anko in disbelief.

"You jerk! I gave you all my dango, and you went on an S-rank mission without us?"

Even now, she struggled to comprehend how Muzan not only found the enemy's supplies but also teamed up with the Jonin to destroy them.

Word was, Muzan had received half the credit for the mission's success.

Her anger was understandable; she felt left out and needed to release that pent-up frustration.

"I couldn't assign you to an S-rank mission," Muzan said, taking in Anko's worn-out appearance. Despite his own exhaustion, his teammates had waited for him for three days.

"When we get back to Konoha, you owe me dinner, and you're cooking!" Anko demanded, still fuming.

Muzan, realizing there was no reasoning with her, gave a helpless sigh and nodded.

"I'm not much of a cook, but I'll make sure you're fed," Muzan conceded.

It took several promises of future meals before Anko was finally appeased.

From Anko and Mari's account, they had noticed that the Kumo ninjas were patrolling the area initially, but on the last day, they suddenly vanished, likely due to some internal issue at their base.

"Looks like we've got some free time," Muzan commented.

It was a rare day off, and as a medical ninja, Muzan could finally enjoy a bit of relaxation when there were no patients to treat.

After a day's rest, Muzan had an unexpected visitor.

---

Yamashiro Aoba, looking haggard with dark circles under his eyes, approached Muzan. His gaunt appearance was shocking, especially for a special Jonin.

"You're finally back. Thanks to your idea, the number of injured skyrocketed over these past few days."

Aoba's voice was strained as he continued, "The medical system in our camp is hanging by a thread. We're short on medical ninjas."

"I need your help, Muzan. Pack your things and come with me."

The front lines had been brutal, with many shinobi suffering serious injuries while scouting enemy supply locations and engaging in combat. It was a situation that demanded the full attention of the medical team. According to Lady Tsunade's orders, a medical ninja was not to give up on any patient, no matter how dire their condition.

The casualties had started piling up from day one, with shinobi being brought back to the camp in waves. The mission required coordination; while the main forces kept the enemy engaged, smaller squads infiltrated the rear to disrupt their operations. However, if Kumo's forces had recovered too soon, the infiltrating shinobi would have been overwhelmed.

The feint attacks had taken their toll, resulting in significant injuries, and now the camp was in crisis.

Aoba placed a trembling hand on Muzan's shoulder. Despite Muzan's relative inexperience, he had quickly become one of the most capable medical ninjas in the field.

"The medical setup we've been using is based on your ideas, and it's working, but there are still gaps. We need your expertise to fill them."

Aoba had intended to approach Muzan as soon as he returned, but he knew Muzan had just completed an arduous mission, so he had postponed his request for a day. But that day had been sleepless for Aoba.

"So, we don't have enough medical ninjas," Muzan summarized, noting Aoba's weariness.

Muzan sighed, realizing his brief hope for rest was slipping away.

"Shouldn't you request reinforcements from Konoha?" Muzan asked, though he already suspected the answer.

"There's no time. Konoha is stretched thin as it is," Aoba replied, shaking his head.

Muzan knew there was no avoiding it. He would have to step up again. Seeing Aoba's exhausted expression, Muzan finally accepted his role in the situation.

"Alright, let's go help the injured."

When they arrived at the medical area, the sight was grim. The number of injured had swelled beyond capacity, with many lying on makeshift beds outside the tents. Though the medical supplies were sufficient, the treatments were basic—just enough to prevent infection and death, but far from adequate in Muzan's eyes.

As they entered the critical care section, the scene was even more dire. Blood-soaked sheets covered the patients, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. The medical ninjas had managed to stop the bleeding, but that was only the beginning.

Muzan examined a few of the worst cases, his fingers cold against their clammy skin.

"They need blood transfusions immediately."

Despite Konoha's reputation for skilled medical ninjas, the infrastructure was still lacking, especially after Lady Tsunade had left her role in the village's medical administration. The momentum of progress had slowed, leaving the village's medical advancements stagnant.

"Blood transfusions?" Aoba asked, hesitation clear in his voice. He was a competent medic, and he understood the gravity of the situation. Some of these injuries were severe enough that only a blood transfusion could save the patients.

Muzan noted Aoba's hesitation and frowned in frustration.

"Don't tell me we don't have the equipment for blood transfusions here."

"We do, but we're low on blood packs, and poorly matched transfusions could be fatal," Aoba admitted, his voice tinged with reluctance. He was right to be cautious; without the right resources, they could do more harm than good.

Muzan gritted his teeth in frustration. It wasn't just about the equipment; it was also about the lack of donors.

"Do we even know their blood types?" Muzan asked, though he suspected the answer.

Aoba's silence confirmed his suspicion.

It was moments like these that reminded Muzan of the strange inconsistencies in this world. Despite the advanced ninjutsu, the medical technology lagged behind, relying heavily on individuals like Orochimaru for advancements.

"This isn't something we can fix right now. For now, we'll use chakra to stabilize them."

Chakra was versatile, but it wasn't a substitute for proper medical procedures. Even so, they had no other choice.

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