Ryusei's hand didn't stop channeling chakra into her shoulders, especially the one through which the poison came from directly.
His masked face tilted slightly, as if weighing her words.
"You don't need to know who I am," he said evenly. "Not yet."
His tone carried no arrogance, only a matter-of-fact certainty.
"As for why…" his gaze flicked briefly toward the direction Sasori had fled.
"I save who I choose. And right now, you're worth saving more than letting him have you."
There was no warmth in his words, yet no cruelty either.
Just a strange conviction, as if his choice was final and required no further explanation.
"You asked what I want?" he continued, softer now. "To see how far you can go if you live through this. That's enough."
The mask hid his grin, but she could hear the faint curl of it in his voice.
"For now, let's focus on driving out that poison and keeping you alive. We should also move, someone could show up here any moment. Hold on."
Ryusei's grin stayed hidden behind the mask as he shifted her weight, pulling her slender arm across his frame before springing away.
The sudden leap blurred the battlefield behind them.
Pakura was too weak to resist.
Her body sagged against him, and by the time she realized how closely he had positioned her, it was already too late.
They were moving too fast, her body pressed against his, arms wrapped in what looked far too much like an embrace.
Her face flushed hot due or now despite the poison in her veins. "Damn it…"
She muttered under her breath, the most she could manage, though part of her wanted to snap at him outright.
Ryusei, meanwhile, was acutely aware of the bare, smooth line of her underarm brushing against his side, and the faint, almost intoxicating scent that clung to her even through sweat and blood.
Sticky or not, it only seemed to sharpen her allure.
"What's going on with me…?" he wondered with a crooked thought.
Ever since meeting Tsunade, he'd been paying far more attention to the female body than he should.
Maybe it was her influence.
Or maybe it was just the damn hormones of this younger 'vessel' body, in puberty, catching up more and more.
Or it was simply that recent power increased his appetite more and more.
Anyway, he suppressed a chuckle and pushed on, darting through the terrain until they reached a secluded hollow, sheltered enough that no wandering shinobi would find them.
The perfect place to work on her wounds.
'She's lucky I have this Byakugan now…' Ryusei thought as he immediately set her down carefully on the grass.
Even if he were a top medical-nin, healing her outwardly wouldn't matter.
The poison had already sunk too deep; unless she was given a precise antidote or it was expelled physically, she'd collapse again soon after.
And precision like that wasn't something his hands alone could manage, not without the years of mastery Tsunade held over every corner of medical ninjutsu, including this one.
But with the Byakugan guiding him, it was almost unfair how easy it became.
"I'll have to extract it," he told her plainly. "The poison's threaded through most of your upper pathways. Healing alone won't help."
Pakura's hazel eyes widened faintly, and she tried to push back, her voice rasping but sharp. "What… what are you—"
"Don't waste energy protesting," Ryusei cut her off, calm.
"It's either this, or you don't make it."
So, before she could argue further, he crouched beside her, his hands and fingers already glowing faintly with unique medical chakra, ready to directly reach her glowing body.
His fingers then moved with precision, gliding over her fair and almost creamy skin, shoulder, underarm lifted without hesitation, tracing down her side, brushing the curve near her breast before sliding across her back, following the poison's trail.
He wasn't groping; his movements were deliberate, clinical, but even so, the contact was undeniable, and he was enjoying every bit of sensation and warmth touching his fingers.
Pakura sucked in a breath.
Her face flushed deeper with every touch, heat rising under the poison's haze.
Her body twitched involuntarily, a soft hiss escaping her teeth.
"Damn… you—" she tried to snap, but her voice faltered, catching somewhere between anger and something else she refused to name.
Ryusei kept his focus, discipline honed from spending so much time at Tsunade's side, even as heat twisted in his stomach and desire pressed at the edges of his control.
'She's early twenties, maybe,' he thought dryly, biting back a smirk.
'Shinobi or not, even Tsunade would flush if I traced her like this. Of course she would too.'
Finally, with a flick of chakra control, small bubbling nodes of poison rose to the surface, each one pulled out and expelled a safe distance away.
The toxic smell burned faintly in the air, but Pakura's breathing eased almost instantly.
It was over. She lay back, panting hard, face still crimson, sweat dripping from her chin.
For once, her expression wasn't cold or guarded; it was raw, heated, almost like that of a young woman after something far more intimate.
Ryusei sat back, exhaling softly. "There. The poison's out."
Pakura pressed a hand weakly to her chest, still catching her breath.
"You… you didn't have to—" she started, then stopped, her eyes narrowing, unable to meet his masked face. "No one touches me like that. Ever."
Ryusei tilted his head slightly, voice level. "Then consider this an exception. You're alive, aren't you?"
She glared at him faintly, but her flush betrayed her more than her words.
After a long pause, she muttered lowly, almost grudgingly, "…Thank you."
Ryusei chuckled behind the mask, leaning back on his hand.
"Don't thank me yet. You still owe me for the trouble."
Her eyes snapped toward him, sharp with indignation and disbelief.
"Owe you? Trouble? I never asked for your help, and..."
That next look in her eyes finished the sentence her lips didn't -
'You dare, after everything you just did? You still have the nerve?'
"Of course," he said easily. "No such thing as free salvation on the battlefield."
Pakura's lips parted as if to retort, but no words came.
She was far too embarrassed to speak of what had just happened or how much it had shaken her directly in any way.
The flush in her face only deepened, betraying her far more than her glare ever could.
"You…" she managed, voice thin with fatigue, "you're insufferable."
Ryusei only shrugged, unconcerned. "Maybe. But I'm also the reason you're still breathing."
She clenched her jaw, looking away toward the treeline rather than give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered any further.
Her fingers curled into the dirt, frustration mixing with a reluctant acceptance.
"…Tch." She exhaled sharply. "Fine. I'll… remember this debt. Don't think for a second I'll forget."
Ryusei leaned forward slightly, tone amused. "Good. That's all I want."
Her hazel eyes flicked back to him, suspicion lacing them now. "…Why? What are you after?"
Behind the mask, he grinned. "You'll find out soon enough."
The words hung between them, heavy with both tension and a faint curiosity neither of them wanted to admit out loud.
Ryusei also hadn't planned to be here at this time.
Previously, he was in the middle of picking a Konoha squad to strike, aiming for which Main Branch Byakugan to pluck, as he had planned, when his senses caught something unusual at the position where Sasori and Pakura were at the time.
What he saw didn't fit.
It shouldn't have been happening at that time.
He immediately moved closer to investigate that first.
In the story he remembered, Pakura's death had played out entirely differently.
She wasn't supposed to directly fall in battle here, and now, poisoned and discarded.
Instead, she was meant to be sent on a supposed truce mission to Kirigakure, betrayed in cold blood.
Stabbed, then pierced by a storm of kunai also across her slender back, dying at the hands of some Kiri fodder.
Her last words had been curses at her own village and all shinobi.
Officially, it was explained as Sunagakure sacrificing her to appease Kiri and secure peace.
Or at least that was what those Kiri fodders told her as she was dying, and they might have really thought so, but not Ryusei.
That version of events had always reeked of conspiracy to him.
It reminded him more of what happened to Sakumo for some reason. Like it was some internal infighting at the top.
A great village didn't humiliate itself so much by throwing away one of its strongest weapons just to prove some sincerity.
Especially not to Kiri.
Pakura was also no Hizashi.
With Pakura's reputation, it actually made sense that Kiri wanted revenge; her Scorch Release had probably cut through their Water Release like nothing else thus far in history.
So, she must have really bled them badly in earlier missions, or the war itself, for the grudge to burn so deep, for them.
However, it was likely not why Sunagakure greenlighted her death like that.
For once, they and Kirigakure were pretty equals in this war, from Ryusei's impression; neither side had the strength to demand such humiliation and submission from the other.
To Ryusei, it had now looked like Rasa and his allies were using Kiri's knife to quietly eliminate her, then shift the blame onto Iwa, whom she'd also dealt heavy blows to on the frontlines previously as well, and who had motives to prevent this new truce with Kiri from forming.
Enough to point fingers, but not enough to reignite the war.
That was the story he remembered. So why was it different here?
Maybe it was because of some large-scale "Butterfly Effect" - Ryusei himself had already inadvertently created in this world, regarding what he did against the Kirigakure recently.
Maybe the truce with Kiri had already been sealed earlier in this world, due to Ryusei's actions, before Rasa and his supporters decided upon and could arrange her death.
Maybe there was no "diplomatic meeting" present to hide behind anymore.
If that chance was gone, then the next move was obvious: poison her on the battlefield, and pin it on Konoha.
A different stage, but the same script, Pakura was never meant to survive.
But this time Ryusei was here.
By twist of timing or fate, he had seen it happen and stepped in.
And by his hand, her story had just been torn off its rails.