The sun had barely risen when we gathered at the village gates. A sea of flak vests and forehead protectors stretched across the road, hundreds of shinobi arranged in units and squads, waiting for the signal to move out. Behind us, the walls of Konoha stood tall and steady.
I stood with my team near the center formation, among the medics and support personnel. Kurenai was calmly checking the pack strapped to her hip. Asuma rolled his shoulders with anticipation. Guy and his father stood side by side, already bouncing on their heels. Duy was quiet, but his eyes were alert and scanning. He had already taken on the role of protector without needing to be asked.
As the sun rose over the Hidden Leaf, its golden light spilled across the gathered army. Rows upon rows of shinobi stood at attention on the training grounds outside the village walls... flak jackets strapped, headbands gleaming, weapons prepared. The air was tense with anticipation and resolve.
Hiruzen Sarutobi stood atop the makeshift platform, his robes fluttering gently in the breeze. He looked out at the faces before him, veterans, genin, medical staff, ANBU, clansmen, and saw not soldiers, but his people. He took a breath and stepped forward.
"I see in all of you the flame of our village," Hiruzen began, his voice rich and steady. "It is not a flame born of hatred, nor one of conquest. It is a fire that protects, that warms, that endures. The Will of Fire burns within each of us, and not just in those who carry jutsu in their blood, but in every child we defend, every elder we cherish, every friend we fight for."
Silence fell across the crowd. Even the birds seemed to pause in their flight.
"We do not march to glory," he said, "we march to ensure that peace can return to this world. That the children of the Leaf will grow up without fearing the loss of their parents to foreign blades or unseen poisons."
He let the moment linger, his gaze sweeping across the ranks. "Trust in each other. Stand for each other. And remember this above all else: We are not alone. We are Leaf. And together, we do not break."
A firm nod. "May your fires never be extinguished."
The crowd let out a quiet, respectful cheer; not raucous, but resolute.
Then came Danzo. He stepped forward with the stiffness of a man too used to commanding from the shadows. His voice, when it rang out, was smooth, but undercut with a prideful sharpness that contrasted Hiruzen's warmth.
"We stand today not as scattered branches, but as the unshakable trunk of the Hidden Leaf," Danzo began. "Other nations falter, lose leaders, quarrel among themselves. But not us. Not Konoha."
He glanced toward Hiruzen only briefly before continuing.
"We are strong because we act with unity. We are feared because we act with resolve. Our enemies will hesitate before challenging us again after this war, because they will remember what happens when Konoha commits its full strength."
A slight smile tugged at his lips, carefully controlled. "Do your duty, complete your missions, and make sure the world remembers why Konoha stands as the greatest of the Five Great Shinobi Nations."
He smiled faintly, as if he had already calculated how many of us would not return and found the cost acceptable for the rise of his fame and power. I had to suppress an eyeroll. Inspiring, in its own way, I suppose... if you liked speeches dipped in ego.
Then the order was given, and we marched.
Five days passed with the rhythm of boots on dirt, whispers through the trees, and the constant hum of chakra. We moved fast, well-supplied and coordinated, stopping only to rest and resupply at predetermined points.
Our nights were filled with quiet campfires and rotating watches, though my team was left out of the real work. We stayed with the medical corps; tents tightly packed near the center of the formation. I was surrounded by a mix of hardened veterans and wide-eyed, young genins.
Because of my reputation as the youngest jonin in the village, people looked at me with curiosity and a bit of doubt. No doubt thinking my father was the real reason for my rank rather than my skill; I had heard it all before. Still, there was nothing like a war to show just who had real skill, and who abused their connections to get ahead.
~~~~~
On the last day of travel, I was called to the command tent along with all the other jonin. Danzo's tent was dim, overly warm, and filled with a tension that clung to the air like smoke. I stood near the back, flanked by a handful of other jonin while Danzo loomed at the head of the briefing table, a detailed topographic map of the River Country spread before him. The lines drawn across it were stark and deliberate symbolizing defense perimeters, field hospital, watch posts, and fallback zones.
To his left, a Hyūga man bowed low, his headband likely covering Cage Bird Seal that all branch family members had. I recognized him from an earlier briefing, quiet, sharp-eyed, and disturbingly unreadable... so, a typical ROOT agent.
"This is Tokuma Hyūga," Danzo announced without preamble. "He will lead surveillance operations. All intel will be funneled directly to my command tent."
Tokuma bowed again, murmuring, "Yes, Danzo-sama."
"For the southern and western perimeters, Jonin Yoza will be in charge of trap deployment and defensive layering. He will coordinate with Tokuma on sensor data to preempt enemy infiltration."
A thin man in standard Root gear, maskless and barely blinking, just nodded stiffly at the mention of his name. I had seen Yoza before. He was not a sadist, but he did have the cold precision of someone who thought emotions were weaknesses and likely kept a body count in triple digits.
Danzo's finger slid over the map again.
"Supply management and quartermaster duties fall to Jonin Kuroda. Field logistics are not to be questioned, and all orders will be distributed through encrypted scrolls."
And then, finally, his gaze flicked toward me.
"Sarutobi Akari will oversee the medical corps," he said. "She will coordinate triage rotations, antidote create and allocation, and battlefield evac procedures."
His voice was flat and clipped, but I caught a faint edge of disappointment, maybe he had hoped that I would balk or object. After all, a fifteen-year-old managing an entire battlefield medical division, without any prior experience, was a recipe for disaster, so it was easy to guess that he was hoping I would fail. Thankfully, I had already found a number of medics that I recognized from my time in the hospital with Tsunade, so I was not too worried.
"Yes, sir," I said coolly.
The meeting in Danzo's tent had concluded with the crisp, clipped tone of a military operation. Every logistical detail had been parceled out to ROOT agents. Surveillance? Handled by a cold-eyed Hyuga from a branch family that I knew was a ROOT member. Perimeter security? Another ROOT jonin named Yoza whose chakra signature felt like an empty pit, trained to erase himself from the senses. Food distribution, communications relays, even basic supply chains were in ROOT hands.
Everything, except one assignment. The Medical Division was under my direct command. I knew that the position was my father's doing, but it was a lot of pressure, and I knew that Danzo would be pulling strings in the background. No matter what, though, I had work to do.
The sky outside was streaked with deep purples and fading embers as the last light of the day curled over the camp. I made my way back toward the medics' area where my team had pitched our tent. The sounds of distant laughter and clinking mess kits drifted through the air. Our tent was lit from within, casting a soft amber glow on the grass.
"Akari-sama!" Duy greeted, sitting cross-legged on his sleeping roll. "You're back!"
Asuma sat sideways, massaging his legs while Guy was constantly going up and down as he performed pushups. Kurenai was tucked into the corner with my notebook again, just like she had every night we stopped.
"How was the meeting?" she asked gently.
"Dry," I said, easing down onto my pack. "Danzo gave orders. I'm running the medical corps."
Asuma blinked. "All of it?"
I nodded.
Guy's eyes sparkled. "Then the injured are in the hands of true youth!"
I chuckled and shook my head but did not comment further; at least Guy's antics were funny to be around. Kurenai smiled quietly but did not press for more details. Instead, she offered me a ration bar and a canteen.
I settled into my squad's shared tent with the dim lantern light flickering against the canvas walls. As I chewed the dry, yet sticky ration bar, I pulled out my journal and a pencil from my jacket's pocket. Flipping past the sketches and chakra diagrams, I opened to a fresh page and began jotting down names.
Amano Yuri – Experienced field medic. Was Tsunade's assistant during my first two years of training. Specialized in trauma response. Nishioka Ren – Good with diagnosis and chakra flow stabilization. Slight attitude problem but competent. Igarashi Tomo – Newer genin-level medic. Needs supervision. Has potential. Saito Emi – Poison specialist. Finally, someone who might know what the Sand's toxins do.
Then I made a few bullet points beneath the names:
Triage and tent assignment protocols Inventory of medical supplies (stimulants, soldier pills, bandages, antidotes, herbs) Establish training rotation for less experienced medics Develop fast-assessment charts for new patients Cross-reference poisons reported in Sand conflicts, old and recent
I paused and tapped the pencil against my lip. This division was not going to run itself, and I would not let it become a liability. There were people that I could utilize within camp, but also someone outside of camp that I could reach out to. Quickly, I wrote out a letter to Tsunade asking for advice then ripped it out of my journal.
I bit my thumb as I kneeled on the ground. With a flare of chakra and the swirl of smoke followed as I pressed my hand to the ground. A tiny figure emerged, a soft silver monkey, no larger than a housecat, with a green scarf, gold-threaded bracers, and an alert gleam in her eyes.
"Good evening, Akari-sama," Hana said, bowing in a way that was both formal and charming. "Do you require my assistance?"
"I need you to deliver this to Tsunade-sama and then wait for her reply" I replied, handing her the letter.
She accepted it with a respectful nod and tucked it into a pouch hidden beneath her scarf. "I'll reverse summon to the compound immediately, but I'm not sure how long it will take."
"No worries. Things should be fine on my side for another day or two."
Asuma blinked at the tiny monkey, then leaned forward, his brow furrowed in recognition. "Wait… is she like Dad's summoning beast? Monkey King Enma?"
Hana looked up at him and gave a small, proud smile. "I am his daughter. My brother and I were trained by our father to serve the Sarutobi Clan and are Akari-sama's personal summoning beast."
Asuma's eyes widened. "You're Enma's child?"
Hana gave a small nod. "He is our patriarch and our fiercest defender. But even royalty must pass on their knowledge. I am honored to serve Akari-sama."
"Well, I'll be damned," Asuma muttered. "Do you transform into a weapon too?"
"You'll only find out if I need to use her and Saru," I chuckled and ruffled his hair, much to his annoyance.
Duy nodded with deep respect. "Then your lineage is one of strength and loyalty."
"She's adorable and dangerous," Kurenai added, crouching to admire Hana's bracers. "Kind of like Akari."
"Thank you," Hana chirped, pleased.
Guy looked inspired. "Incredible! You embody the noble will of the Sarutobi, and in such a small, determined package!"
"You're very spirited," Hana said politely, tilting her head at him.
"I want a summoning turtle," Guy declared. "One with centuries of wisdom and muscles like mountains!"
"Maybe start with one that lets you cross a river before crushing mountains," I muttered, shaking my head.
The group laughed lightly. Hana made a small salute, her tail flicking with precision.
"I'll return when I can. Be safe, all of you."
With a burst of smoke and the faint scent of pine, she vanished, leaving us in the dim warmth of the lanternlight, her presence still lingering in the calm. We stared at the spot where she disappeared for a moment longer, before quietly settling in for the night.