The Sunagakure medical station was desperately waiting for supplies from the transport convoy — but word came that the convoy would be delayed by two days.
When the news spread, the entire station erupted in complaints and despair. Many wounded shinobi, losing hope, simply gave up on treatment and died.
The death toll in the medical station had already exceeded 500. Now, with the supply chain in disarray, the situation worsened, pushing the staff and patients alike to the brink of collapse.
That night, Sunagakure's real nightmare arrived…
A man with short, silver hair, a short white blade strapped across his back — Hatake Sakumo, the White Fang of Konoha — slipped into Sunagakure's encampment at the head of an elite assassination squad. They moved like ghosts in the darkness, silent and unseen.
The squad pressed themselves against the shadowed walls of a row of Sunagakure barracks. Sakumo gave a slight wave of his hand. Two of his subordinates drew their blades and slipped noiselessly into one of the rooms. Moments later, they emerged, faces calm, as if nothing had happened — but the fresh, red droplets sliding down their blades told the truth: everyone inside was dead.
The White Fang had tested Sunagakure's alertness and found it lacking. With quick hand signals, he reassigned targets. Another wave of his hand, and the squad scattered into the night, vanishing as if they had never been there at all.
Sakumo personally went after a Sunagakure platoon captain. Hanging upside down from the ceiling, he gazed coldly at his prey sleeping below. Slowly, he drew his short white blade, its pale steel exhaling a chill that lowered the room's temperature. The sleeping man remained oblivious.
In the next instant, Sakumo's figure flickered and vanished. He reappeared at the doorway, calmly sliding his blade back into its scabbard. Not a single drop of blood stained the weapon — but on the bed, a crimson stain was spreading, soaking through the entire blanket.
Outside, his squad had already regrouped, their forms melting into the deep shadows of the sand-brick buildings. The night's mission was complete. Time to withdraw.
They disappeared into the darkness once more, leaving behind nothing but a faint scent of blood lingering in the air — the only proof they had ever been there.
According to plan, Sakumo's squad was targeting mid- and lower-ranking enemy officers. In one night, they eliminated seventeen squad captains and three platoon captains.
With so many leaders dead in a single blow, Sunagakure's commander, Elder Ebizō, was forced to hastily promote replacements. At first, the newly promoted captains were pleased — promotions meant higher status and better pay.
But the next day, the White Fang struck again, killing twelve more squad captains. Then came the third day…
Ebizō's head was pounding. Now, even when offered promotions, no one wanted the job. The assassination squad killed only captains, and some captains begged to be demoted to ordinary shinobi just to escape the death list. Those promoted now were often rookies with almost no command experience — a deeply worrying situation.
Sunagakure quickly responded, assigning more guards to protect their officers. On Konoha's suggestion, Sakumo abruptly changed tactics: instead of hunting commanders, his team targeted ordinary soldiers — specifically, a single shinobi from a group sleeping in the same quarters.
In one night, they hit more than twenty Sunagakure barracks.
By morning, many awoke to find the person lying beside them had turned into a blood-soaked corpse. Fear spread like wildfire.
In truth, Sakumo's squad had killed far fewer people than the front-line battles claimed — but the psychological terror of "Konoha's White Fang," the "Shinigami of the Night," was devastating. No one wanted to die silently in their sleep.
As the assassinations continued, some Sunagakure shinobi even felt a twisted sense of relief when they found it was someone else who had died, not them. Many lived in constant dread, waking in nightmares, flinching at every sound, their health visibly declining.
The medical station's failures had already left them resentful, angry, and hopeless. Supply shortages drove them toward breakdown. Now, the White Fang's assassinations robbed them of sleep itself. Morale plummeted. Some shinobi deserted, others cracked under the pressure.
Konoha and Sunagakure clashed in a second large-scale battle. This time, the Sand shinobi fought defensively, desperately trying to avoid injury. Even so, over 900 were killed or wounded. Exhausted from their defensive stance, Sunagakure suffered far more than Konoha, whose casualties dropped sharply.
Konoha pressed their advantage, forcing Sunagakure to retreat another twenty kilometers before stabilizing their lines.
By month's end, the front had collapsed repeatedly. Sunagakure had been pushed back over 120 kilometers, with Konoha forces deep inside the Land of Wind — over 200 kilometers from the border.
In the Sand camp, morale was shattered. Fear, despair, and dread soaked through every tent.
The shinobi were pale, with dark circles under bloodshot eyes, constantly on edge. They flinched at the slightest sound — the classic "wind and grass as soldiers" syndrome. If Gaara of the Desert had been there, no one would have thought him unusual; surrounded by so many sleepless, hollow-eyed comrades, he'd blend right in.
By day, the Sand shinobi fought to survive Konoha's fierce assaults, terrified of being wounded and left to die in the medical station. At night, they took turns standing watch, lest a corpse appear beside them come morning. Some even reversed their schedules, sleeping by day and staying awake at night.
It didn't help.
After further discussion, Konoha's command ordered Sakumo's squad to change targets again — now assassinating night sentries.
When the Sand shinobi heard they'd been assigned night watch, they reacted like they were being sent to an execution. At least an execution has a set time — sentries never knew when it would come.
No one in the Sunagakure camp felt safe.
Then came another blow: word spread that the delayed transport convoy had finally arrived… but with far fewer supplies than expected.
At this point, some were quietly wishing Sunagakure would just surrender, to end the war quickly.
In the medical station, Chiyo worked tirelessly, a medicine bottle in her hand. The strain of the past month had aged her ten years.
"Lady Chiyo," a messenger shinobi knelt before her, trembling. "The chief of the central supply depot sent me to tell you… we've run out of plasma. And we have only enough medicine for a thousand more treatments."
"What? Even the central depot is empty? That's half the village's reserves!" Chiyo turned, eyes wide with shock.
"In the past few days, over 4,600 have been wounded, most from severe blood loss. We've used thirty thousand bags of plasma. The central depot has already informed Lord Kazekage — they're trying to find a solution…"
"Then send me everything the depot still has!" Chiyo's voice trembled with frustration, anger building with nowhere to go.
"…There's some gauze… and suture thread…" the messenger's voice grew smaller.
"Send it all! What about the supplies from this convoy?" Chiyo asked. Perhaps they could cover the immediate crisis.
"L–Lady Chiyo… the convoy was ambushed. Our shinobi thought Konoha was only bluffing as usual, so they didn't react immediately… but this time, they were serious. All sixteen wagonloads were burned — including the plasma and medicines."
Chiyo froze. Blow after blow hammered at her already strained mind.
Without this shipment, the medical station was finished. Dying in agony in the hospital would be worse than dying in battle — and many shinobi now refused treatment altogether.
At that moment, another Sand shinobi rushed in. "Report, Lady Chiyo! Tsunade is leading Konoha's elite in an attack!"
"I understand. Inform the troops — prepare to retreat." Her voice was flat; retreating had become almost routine.
The messenger hesitated, frowning. "…Lady Chiyo, the Konoha shinobi are shouting slogans as they attack."
"What slogans?"
"…'Capture old lady Chiyo alive!'"
CRACK! The medicine bottle shattered in her grip. Smoke practically rose from beneath her headscarf as her eyes bulged in fury.
"Insufferable! Damn Konoha! Shameless! Damn that monster of a woman — Tsunade! I'll fight you to the death!!" Chiyo roared.
Perhaps she had forgotten — this was the exact tactic she once used against Tsunade herself. When Tsunade stayed at the medical station, Chiyo would lead an elite strike on the battlefield.
Now, she was getting a taste of her own medicine.