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The List of The "ANBU" Member:
-ar4ngel
-Cain
-Ryan biggins
-Kreios
-Sabo
-Goha21
-Cherudim
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If anyone thought that medical ninjas in Kirigakure were assigned to combat squads like in Konoha, working alongside other shinobi, they'd be dead wrong.
Due to personnel shortages, unless under special circumstances, Kirigakure's medics 'never' went on external missions.
This posed a massive problem for Midorima.
To escape the Hidden Mist, he first needed familiarity with the outside world—otherwise, he wouldn't even know where to hide. Second, he needed enough strength to evade the ANBU's pursuit.
Neither of these was achievable while stuck in the Medical Corps.
As for other options:
Option 1: Stay?
'Yeah, right.' Yagura was already in power. If he didn't flee now, he'd be stuck when Yagura fell under Obito's genjutsu and doubled down on the "Bloody Mist" policies.
If he didn't know the future, fine. But knowing what was coming and 'still' not running? That'd be idiocy.
Option 2: Warn Yagura about the one-eyed masked man?
Forget whether Yagura would believe him. If the Fourth Mizukage asked, "How do you know?"—what would he say?
"Oh, I've got the entire Naruto manga in my head, sir."
And if Yagura just scoffed, "Really? I don't buy it,"—was Midorima supposed to 'split his skull open' as proof?
Option 3: Stop Obito?
'Pfft.' Might as well pick a nice gravesite now and hope his next reincarnation lands him 'as Kishimoto' so he can rewrite the plot.
Despite his frustrations, leaving the Medical Corps wasn't feasible.
He'd once approached Shūsaku, solemnly declaring his willingness to "shed every last drop of blood for Kirigakure."
"Little Midorima, isn't serving here also contributing to the village?"
"But the battlefield is a shinobi's romance."
"So is wearing the Medical Corps uniform with pride."
Midorima nearly spat blood.
'What's the difference between the Medical Corps uniform and others?'
Well… there 'was' one. They wore white coats over them.
'Oh wow, extra layers. How thrilling! Did they think a lab coat made this Night Nurse: The Anime?!'
Transferring was impossible. 'Absolutely' impossible.
With conventional methods useless, he had to get creative.
The "thesis" Midorima submitted to Shūsaku focused on one core argument: 'The Critical Importance of Medical Ninja on the Battlefield.'
His evidence? Konoha's medics during the Second Shinobi War, framed around Tsunade's theories.
Since Kirigakure was isolated and separated from Konoha by sea, the full theory hadn't reached them. Midorima exploited this gap, crafting a meticulously structured essay—complete with arguments, evidence, and emotional appeals.
By the end, even Shūsaku was stirred, feeling long-dormant 'passion' reignite.
'The battlefield… that's where shinobi youth burns brightest! Even medics have their glory days.'
Deeply moved, Shūsaku patted Midorima's shoulder twice. "I'll give this serious thought."
Midorima exhaled in relief. Finally, a sliver of hope.
Then—knock knock.
All eyes turned to the door.
"What is it?" Shūsaku frowned at the panting twenty-something shinobi.
"Injured… patients…" The man's face was pale.
"Patients?" Shūsaku was puzzled. The Medical Corps 'always' received patients. No need for panic.
"Captain—hurry! Any later and… they're gone!" The ninja looked ready to cry.
Shimura's expression hardened. He glanced back at Midorima and the others. "You three—come with me. Blood is something you'll need to get used to."
Shinobi lived with bloodshed, medics or not.
—
The moment Midorima entered the treatment room, the metallic stench of blood assaulted his nostrils. He forced his gaze to the beds.
Three shinobi lay on separate cots, surrounded by frantic medics.
Shūsaku rolled up his sleeves and approached the first, slicing open the bandages with a kunai. The reek of blood thickened instantly.
Midorima peered over Shimura's shoulder—and froze.
A gash ran diagonally from the patient's right chest to left abdomen, bone visible beneath. It resembled Zabuza's strike on 'him'… though Midorima's had been worse, his sternum shattered. But if untreated, this man would bleed out soon.
Shūsaku channeled chakra to diagnose the injury, then activated a healing jutsu—a basic medical technique that accelerated cell regeneration via chakra infusion.
Its effectiveness varied wildly. Too little chakra, and the wound festered; too much, and it overwhelmed the patient's system, inducing coma.
These injuries were severe. Most medics would falter under the pressure.
Precision was everything. A millimeter's error could be fatal.
"Captain—this one's critical! I need backup!" Another medic was using chakra scalpels, but blood erupted from the patient's mouth.
Midorima's eyes flicked to that victim—caved-in chest, likely from a blunt-force ninjutsu. Broken ribs meant punctured organs.
Treating this required removing bone fragments with chakra scalpels, then advanced regeneration—something few in Kirigakure could perform.
The village had no Tsunade-level prodigies.
As a rookie, Midorima had no business attempting high-tier healing. He assessed the injuries, confirmed they were beyond him, and looked away.
"Tch…" Shūsaku scanned the room.
The seasoned medics were already swamped. The only others available were the three new recruits—while veteran staff were either off-duty or tending to village elites.
The Corps was stretched thin.
Shūsaku couldn't abandon his patient, yet no one else was free. Desperate, his chakra output wavered—until his eyes landed on Midorima, standing there calmly. Almost 'bored'.
An idea struck.
"Midorima! Assist them!"
"Hah?!" Midorima wondered if he'd misheard.
'Why me?!' Half the room was full of medics—how had 'he' become the go-to savior?