"Are you okay?" Nagato glanced at her pale face, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth.
"Thank you."
"It seems like I've sustained some internal injuries." Medical-nin were more attuned to their own bodies, and she likely already sensed the extent of her injuries.
"Let me take a look."
As expected, Nagato offered to treat the Kunoichi. To him, an injured person deserved immediate care. He quickly identified the precise spot where she had been struck. Without hesitation, his hand, glowing with chakra, rested on the female Anbu's chest.
"You…"
The female Anbu hadn't expected Nagato to be so direct. A deep blush spread across her cheeks. After all, she was still a teenage girl.
"There's slight internal bleeding and some organ displacement," he said matter-of-factly. "But it's nothing serious."
Nagato didn't perceive anything inappropriate in his actions. After giving his diagnosis, he began treating her injuries. The female Anbu felt a tingling warmth in her chest, unsure if it came from his hands or the heat of his chakra.
She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated. She couldn't possibly say, Don't touch my chest. That would be too mortifying. From Nagato's demeanor, she could tell he wasn't taking advantage of the situation. Resigning herself, she focused on the treatment.
"Okay, just take it easy for a few days," Nagato advised as he withdrew his hand, the treatment complete.
His level of Medical Ninjutsu surpassed hers, and having been trained personally by Tsunade, his expertise was unmatched. Combined with his innate talent, if he chose to specialize in Medical Ninjutsu, he might even rival Tsunade someday.
"Thank you." The female Anbu stood up, bowing her head slightly, avoiding eye contact with Nagato.
"You're welcome." Nagato waved his hand dismissively and turned to walk away. He truly left without a trace, like a cloud drifting by.
Kawakaze and the others, watching from afar, were fuming. This kid was completely oblivious!
He wouldn't even seize such a perfect opportunity. They all itched to teach Nagato a thing or two about wooing a girl.
"Hey, my name is Nonō Yakushi. What's your name?"
Nonō called out, her gaze following Nagato's retreating figure. She couldn't help but wonder who he really was. His striking red hair made him easy to remember.
Few people knew the real identities of Nagato, Minato, and Nawaki. Outside of missions, Minato usually took the lead when negotiating. This was a directive from Kawakaze, who preferred to keep their true identities concealed for his own purposes.
"Just call me Pain," Nagato replied, without looking back.
The name was a code Kawakaze had assigned him, and Nagato didn't see any reason to reveal his real identity. After all, she was merely a colleague, and they might never cross paths on a mission again.
"Pain? That's a strange name," Nonō murmured. She didn't seem suspicious and walked over to retrieve her dropped mask.
As she put it back on, she transformed once more into the composed and exceptional female Anbu.
At this time, only one of the five battles remained in a stalemate.
The two combatants were old acquaintances with comparable strength. Without a life-or-death struggle, it was hard to determine who would emerge victorious.
Nonō glanced briefly at the ongoing battle before turning her attention to those who had already finished. Sakumo, wearing a serious expression, was organizing treatment for the injured. Thankfully, everyone understood the situation well, and no major injuries had occurred.
Nonō's opponent had already regained consciousness and was now standing in the second row. When he noticed her approaching, he nodded in acknowledgment. He understood that Nonō had deliberately held back during their fight; if she hadn't altered her final move, she could have easily crushed his heart.
Seeing his gesture, Nonō politely returned the nod. The two shared a subtle camaraderie forged through their skirmish. Standing together, they exchanged a few quiet words.
Meanwhile, Jiraiya remained in the air, observing patiently. He had already chosen his candidate.
"How does it feel?"
Nagato had just rejoined the team when Nawaki strolled over, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. His tone was dripping with playful teasing.
"What feels like what?" Nagato replied, completely baffled.
"Why are you so rude? I was just treating her injury!"
Nagato sighed in exasperation. He truly hadn't thought about it in that way. It was just a mass of tissue with a few glands. How is it any different from soft flesh on my own body?
"Oh, I know, I know," Nawaki replied with mock seriousness. Then, grinning wickedly, he pressed further. "But how did it feel?"
This was relentless and infuriating!
Nagato felt the stares of their Sensei and the others bearing down on him. It left him speechless.
What kind of people are they?
Silently, he walked to a corner and stood there, saying nothing. Yet his silence spoke volumes.
"What are you asking for? Is Nagato that kind of person? Konan is still here, so can you keep your big mouth shut?"
Kawakaze, clearly irritated, decided to take his frustration out on Nawaki. While speaking, he delivered a sharp flick to Nawaki's forehead.
"Ouch, brother-in-law, that hurts!" Nawaki cried, clutching his head with an exaggerated look of grievance.
"Now you're saying such righteous things, but earlier, you were dying of curiosity yourself!"
"That's right, it hurts. Pain is a good teacher," Kawakaze replied without remorse, his tone matter-of-fact.
"Nagato, don't listen to his nonsense." Then, with a slight shift in tone, Kawakaze asked, "What does the girl look like?"
His question, though more tactful than Nawaki's earlier teasing, carried a hint of testing. Kawakaze already knew what Nonō looked like. As the adoptive mother of Kabuto Yakushi, she was a figure he couldn't easily overlook.
After Danzo's death, her absorption into the Anbu from Root had been expected. Yet, encountering her today had reminded Kawakaze of her existence—something he might have forgotten otherwise.
"Well, she's quite pretty," Nagato replied after a moment's thought. His tone was neutral, his expression calm and unreadable.
Though he hadn't developed any romantic feelings, Nagato still retained a basic sense of beauty. The women he interacted with—Konan, Tsunade, Kushina, Nayuki, and Misaki—set a high standard. If Nonō could be called pretty, it only emphasized that Nagato himself was no less remarkable.
"That's good," Kawakaze let out a sigh of relief. At least Nagato wasn't entirely hopeless—he probably wasn't a homo.
"Do I look better?" Konan asked suddenly, her tone carrying an unexpected competitive edge as she stared at Nagato, the question clearly rhetorical.
"Of course you do. You're definitely better looking," Yahiko declared confidently, without hesitation. He hadn't even seen Nonō, but his loyalty to Konan, the goddess in his heart, was unwavering.
"Kid, you're not even developed yet. What's there to compare?" Nawaki interjected bluntly, drenching Konan's enthusiasm with a bucket of cold water.
"Brother Nawaki, I don't want to talk to you anymore," Konan huffed, glancing down at her chest with a mix of frustration and resignation. She couldn't deny the reality—she was still flat.
She reasoned it was likely because she hadn't been properly nourished before coming to Konoha. While the conditions had improved, there were still no signs of development. Consoling herself, Konan thought she was still young. She convinced herself that one day she would surpass Sensei's wife in this regard—no, I will be even bigger.
It wasn't even dark, but Konan was already daydreaming.
"You look good, you look good," Nagato said quickly, noticing her dejection and trying to comfort her. He saw Konan as a younger sister, while Nonō was barely even a friend at this stage.
"It's a bit of a cop-out, but you're still much better than Brother Nawaki," Konan muttered, shooting Nawaki a resentful glance, her eyes brimming with annoyance.