The Second Shinobi World War was nearing its end. Though sporadic conflicts persisted, the dawn of peace was finally visible.
Whether it was the shinobi constantly on the move or the villagers at home, the tense anxiety of the past had faded. The faces of Konoha's people now bore the confidence and composure of victors.
The good news? The war was finally winding down, and the villagers' lives were looking brighter.
75-year-old Mito Uzumaki remained a deterrent to other nations.
48-year-old Hiruzen Sarutobi had solidified his rule.
26-year-old Sakumo Hatake was at the peak of his career and had just welcomed a son.
12-year-old Minato Namikaze was growing stronger by the day.
The bad news? It was only the Second War that was ending.
Compared to the First War, the Second War was marked by the massive deaths of low and mid-rank shinobi—proof of its escalated brutality.
And in truth, the Second War was merely the prelude to the next great conflict. While Konoha, Suna, Iwa, and Ame clashed in the west, Kiri and Kumo in the east had remained largely inactive.
In just seven years, the even bloodier Third War would begin—the real main event.
*"Kekeke… I, a 16-year-old, have survived another day. What a glorious achievement. My thanks to every Otsutsuki out there."*
At the edge of the village, in a dilapidated house, a skeletal figure emerged from the shadows with a low chuckle.
Kaede Madoka loved sunlight.
When he first arrived in this world, his only goal was to survive one more day—until his body inevitably gave out. It wasn't that he lacked determination, but rather that his circumstances made effort nearly impossible.
The reason was simple: he wasn't a soul transmigrator, but a physical one.
On the brink of death in his original world, his body had regressed to childhood during the crossing, leaving him stranded in the Naruto world as a normal Earth human.
And that had nearly broken him.
An average human on Earth had about 40 trillion cells.
A normal person in the Naruto world? 130 trillion.
This wasn't just a matter of a threefold difference in physical ability—Earthlings and shinobi-world natives were practically different species.
For Kaede, this meant that every single bacterium or virus he carried was nothing more than a gentle breeze to the locals—at worst, causing a minor cold that would vanish in hours.
But any harmless microbe from this world? For Kaede's Earthling child body, it was a life-or-death battle.
From day one, Kaede had been locked in a brutal war against countless diseases, a struggle so relentless he once believed it would never end. His best-case scenario? Dying from total organ failure after years of strain.
As for why he didn't just learn chakra—the universal energy that could suppress illness—from the start?
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
Shinobi natives refined chakra by combining the physical energy of 130 trillion cells with their mental energy.
Kaede trying to refine chakra?
With 40 trillion cells, while fighting off countless deadly pathogens?
Too little chakra, and it wouldn't even cover his body, let alone purge infections. Mastering precise chakra control required massive amounts of chakra to practice—something he couldn't afford.
Too much chakra, or refining too frequently? Instant death.
Now, at 16, Kaede was a withered husk. His body, drained of fat, sugars, and proteins from years of war, was barely clinging to life.
But at last, he could say he had adapted.
His lifespan had been drastically shortened, but he no longer feared death.
Because after all these years, he hadn't just been waiting to die—he had been searching for a way out.
And he had found one.
"All these years… refining the tiniest scraps of chakra, painstakingly carving out my own path… and finally, I have results."
Kaede stared into the mirror at his emaciated reflection—like a more skeletal Nagato—then clenched his fists.
The power he wielded, in this world's terms, was…
Zombies.
Kaede could control a zombie virus, reanimating the dead.
But he had never revealed this ability.
Because without sufficient strength, exposing such a technique would mean certain death.
By any standard, manipulating the dead was forbidden jutsu territory—the kind that warranted immediate execution.
People would assume he had been secretly collecting corpses—or worse, kidnapping the living—to develop this abomination.
And in the fragile peace between the Second and Third Wars, a power that defied death was too dangerous to ignore.
"The Second Hokage's Edo Tensei… Orochimaru probably hasn't learned it yet."
Kaede raised a hand, shielding his eyes from the sun, and took a deep breath.
For the first time in years, his lungs didn't wheeze like a broken bellows.
The worst was over.
Now, he had work to do.
His first priority? Escaping this ruined Earthling body.
"40 trillion cells vs. 130 trillion… The gap is insurmountable. And in my current state, I don't even have 40 trillion left. Trying to refine chakra like this, I'd be stuck as a genin forever."
Orochimaru's body-switching technique was still in its infancy. But Kaede had his own methods.
He just needed to seize every possible opportunity—even if it meant serving Konoha as a disposable pawn.
Because pawns had their uses.
And right on cue, someone came calling.
"Lord Ryoma's orders. A medical team is to assemble at the northern border immediately."
A shinobi arrived, his face tense.
Kaede smiled—a skeletal, ghastly thing.
"Another enemy incursion. The war may be over, but the conflicts aren't. Small-team infiltration missions never end… Even a talentless wretch like me gets called up as a 'medical ninja.' But serving the village is an honor."
The shinobi before him, Fuumaji Takuya, should have died in the Ame battlefield, poisoned while treating the wounded.
But Kaede had pulled him back from death's door.
No one liked dealing with Aburame Ryoma—not even Fuumaji Takuya.
Ryoma was both the deputy commander of Konoha's Medical Corps and the second-in-command of Root.
"I know your health is poor, but the village is stretched thin. The new gen from the Academy aren't ready for heavy missions. And you know Lord Ryoma—he doesn't take suggestions from chunin like me. He only gives orders."
Takuya eyed Kaede warily. The boy looked like he might drop dead any second—a concern everyone shared whenever Kaede was mobilized.
But somehow, he always pulled through.
"What can we do? Aburame Ryoma is Danzo's right hand. He doesn't spare kindness for regular Konoha shinobi, let alone war orphans like me."
Kaede's grin was unsettling—a skull's leer.
War orphans were a common sight in every village. If resources allowed, children were gathered and trained.
In Konoha, that task now fell to Nonō Yakushi—a woman who would, in the Third War, rise to lead the Medical Corps.
And the MVP of war orphans? Yakushi Kabuto, whom Nonō would adopt during that war.
Kaede, brought to Konoha as a child, was never trusted completely.
The village molded orphans like him into specialized tools, meant for one purpose before being discarded. A practical approach.
When Ryoma first came to select candidates, Kaede—sickly, weak, and seemingly on death's door—was passed over.
No bloodline. No talent. Just a liability.
Only when the actual orphan handlers arrived was Kaede taken in—and only because abandoning him would violate Konoha's founding principles.
"A nation and its village… Yet even with civilians, the population is too small. We need constant influx from other towns. The fact that I've survived this long means I should contribute where I can."
Kaede's words held a sliver of sincerity.
"I've learned a new jutsu. Been practicing hard. Hope I won't need it."
In this brutal world, even children—if they were shinobi—could slaughter ordinary adults without hesitation.
Objectively speaking, Konoha was the only village that gave Kaede time to grow.
Because in the Second War, Konoha was the last to send children to battle.
The Will of Fire's core was protecting the next generation. Hashirama believed it. Madara acted on it. Tobirama tried to uphold it.
But by the war's end, even Hiruzen had no choice. Children were deployed—for minor missions, but deployed nonetheless.
Kaede was among them, using his pitiful "medical ninjutsu" to treat the wounded. Useless at everything, he was eventually assigned to the most fitting role:
Corpse transport.
As a war orphan, vetted and deemed non-threatening, with no combat talent and a body on the verge of collapse, he was perfect for moving the dead.
Not high-value corpses with bloodlines, of course. Just the ordinary ones.
"I've crossed the threshold. My body is stabilizing. All those years refining scraps of chakra, nursing myself… It's finally paying off."
Following Takuya through the forest, Kaede moved like a proper Konoha genin—leaping from tree to tree.
No one knew the hell he'd endured to reach this point.
But it was worth it.
Everything was about to change.
"Though compared to me, even Gekkō Hayate looks like a beast."
Pausing on a branch, Kaede coughed, gasping for breath.
"Hang in there. We're almost there," Takuya urged.
Suddenly, he signaled a halt. Kaede and the other medic froze.
"Three allies ahead. One lightly injured, escorting two critical. No enemy signs yet."
After observing, Takuya motioned for Kaede to stay hidden before revealing himself.
"Captain Takuya! Thank goodness. We were ambushed by Kiri-nin! Please—my teammates are dying!"
The young genin was battered, nerves frayed. Recognizing Takuya—a medic known for serving under Jiraiya—he relaxed slightly.
Kaede studied the scene.
"Standard four-man squad… Where's your medic?"
"Dead. Kiri hasn't fought us in large battles, but they know our 'one medic per squad' policy. They target healers first."
During the Second War, Tsunade and Dan had pushed for this system, despite shortages. Many "medics" were just genin with basic healing jutsu.
Konoha's leadership was still figuring out the most cost-effective way to train medics.
People like Kaede—war orphans with barely any chakra—could still be labeled "medical ninja."
Only now, with large-scale battles fading in favor of small-team ops, did more squads get assigned medics.
Kaede knew that by the Third War, most four-man teams—led by jonin—would have properly trained medics, like Team Minato's Rin.
"Kiri… a formidable enemy." Takuya worked on one critical patient, gesturing for Kaede to handle the other.
Even pragmatically, veterans who survived near-death grew stronger, calmer, more valuable.
Everyone present dreaded the thought of a full-scale war with Kiri.
"The Sandaime will likely sue for peace. Sacrificing some benefit to buy time… In his eyes, Konoha's rapid recovery makes that the best move."
Kaede thought of future events—Kushina's near-kidnapping, the Hyuga twins' sacrifice.
Then he examined the wounded man.
"Left abdomen: penetrating wound, irregular edges (likely kunai). Right thigh: 3 cm laceration. Left shoulder: swelling… Breathing's ragged. Pulse weak. Consciousness fading."
The other medic moved to use Chakra Scalpel.
"No. Save your chakra. Use Mystical Palm on the abdomen first—liver or intestines are hit. That's lethal."
As for the thigh's severed vein?
Kaede reached in, peeling back flesh without flinching, and tied the vessel off in a perfect knot.
"This'll buy him time."