Both the Puppet Technique and medical ninjutsu demanded considerable skill in chakra manipulation and perception.
Yet Chiyo, renowned for her prowess in both, detected no trace of chakra within the smithy. So the puppet she'd deployed was merely the most ordinary humanoid model.
Not meant to guard against any lingering enemy—simply to test for traps.
After a brief inspection, the gray-haired kunoichi silently stepped through the doorway.
Though long accustomed to the smell of blood, though she'd anticipated the scene before her, actually seeing that couple lying lifeless in their own blood—even Chiyo, usually so fond of joking, couldn't muster a smile. Just irritation.
Sand was a village that was simultaneously rich and dirt poor. The higher-ups especially hated watching money go down the drain.
"Hm?"
But soon, amid the chaos, Chiyo noticed something unusual.
Is that their child...
Her gaze followed a bloody trail—dragged or crawled—leading to the corner. From memory surfaced the image of that child with flame-like red hair, occasionally peeking curiously from the doorway.
Truth be told, probably because her own son had red hair too, she rather liked that kid. But his parents hadn't wanted him involved in the ninja world, so Chiyo never had much chance to interact with him.
That child had always been well protected by his parents—they'd even proactively revealed their identity to Sand partly for his sake. If they'd left him something life-saving, he might have survived.
Judging by the blood trail, the boy must be very weak. If he'd survived, he couldn't have gone far.
Her chakra-enhanced vision and reflexes processed these thoughts in an instant. Just then, she heard a faint but definite sound.
"...!"
Chakra threads connected to her puppet tightened with a flick of her fingers. The doll-like puppet surged toward the living quarters deeper in. With a crash, the door burst inward amid dust and debris.
But simultaneously, Chiyo felt something snag her puppet—its movements slightly distorted.
Before she could register surprise, the puppet's left arm went completely limp. Exploiting the opening, a figure with blazing red hair burst from the doorway, kunai in hand, charging with all his might.
To a jōnin's eyes, though, his speed was pathetically slow.
Pity and surprise flickered in her gaze, but Chiyo's hands never stopped. She didn't even need to twitch her wrist—just curled her fingers slightly. The crude puppet shook off the cloth draped over it and, with a sharp crack, pinned the charging figure to the ground, simultaneously disarming him.
The puppet's force was gentle—even "tender"—clearly accounting for the child's injured condition. Meant only to stop him.
Through this exchange, Hii Kōri confirmed his speculation and relaxed slightly.
"Cough—Puppet Technique... Sand ninja, huh..."
He coughed as if choked by dust, his trembling voice projecting utter weakness.
Trembling, weak—all genuine. No acting required.
To ensure this performance, he'd reopened the wound on his abdomen in advance with the very kunai now lodged in that puppet's left shoulder joint.
"Ah, that's right. I'm a Sand ninja. You've probably seen me a few times before."
Seeing Hii Kōri's deathly pale face, Chiyo hastily moved the puppet aside. Speaking soothing words to establish rapport, she turned him over. Spotting the torn wound on his abdomen, the gray-haired kunoichi's expression sharpened. She pressed her hand above the injury.
Green fluorescent glowed from Chiyo's palm, vivid in the dim smithy. Her neat gray bob and focused, handsome features became clearly visible.
Noticing Chiyo's concerned gaze, Hii Kōri felt mildly surprised. Then he remembered—he was apparently the sole surviving Uzumaki here. Of course Sand ninja would treat him this way.
Under chakra's influence, his wound healed rapidly. Even his lost blood partially restored.
So this is real medical ninjutsu...
Witnessing medical techniques far more efficient than his pendant-assisted self-healing, Hii Kōri's curiosity stirred again.
Ah, speaking of which, that kunai really is quality. Didn't get any blood on it at all.
Sensing his expression threatening to slip, he turned away from Chiyo, distracting himself with trivial thoughts.
"Child... can you tell me what happened here?"
After treating Hii Kōri's wound, Chiyo hesitated, worried about reopening emotional wounds. But she carefully phrased the question anyway.
At this, Hii Kōri's shoulder trembled slightly. Already turned away, he now curled entirely inward, burying his face in his knees.
"What else could have happened? Isn't it obvious...?"
Muffled by his legs, his voice still trembled noticeably.
"Some ninja showed up and killed Mom and Dad. That simple."
"...You're strong, child."
Chiyo found herself momentarily speechless.
She'd never been good at comforting others. Playing dead to scare people, pulling pranks—that she excelled at. But in situations like this, saying something to ease the atmosphere? That was asking too much.
After awkwardly struggling, all she managed was this—words that felt almost like rubbing salt in wounds. Realizing what she'd said, Chiyo's hand, reaching to pat Hii Kōri's head, froze mid-air.
"If being sad helped, I'd cry louder than anyone."
If the original owner were here, he'd probably be sobbing. But Hii Kōri couldn't care less. He sniffled, then pushed himself up on trembling arms, facing his parents' bodies.
His young eyes were bloodshot, clouded as if robbed of all hope. The red swelling around them starkly contrasted his bloodless pale face.
Clenching his fists, his voice came out hoarse.
"But no matter how much I cry, they won't come back."
Chiyo fell silent.
Seeing Hii Kōri like this, the mother in her couldn't help but feel pity. But as a Sand jōnin, she also felt profound relief.
Conflicting emotions intertwined. She had nothing to say.