Konoha Hospital's air conditioning was a blessing Hanekawa had learned to appreciate. He leaned back in Nonō's office chair, stifling a yawn as afternoon light filtered through the windows.
Half a month ago, his life had taken an interesting turn.
He'd spent months as a surgical assistant—mostly handling anesthesia and hemostasis while Nonō did the real work. Then his dical ninjutsu proficiency had finally crossed a threshold. He'd acquired the B-Rank entry 'dical Special Jonin,' and Nonō had let him try attending a couple of surgeries solo. Both had gone flawlessly.
Now, with dical ninjas stretched thin across the village, he'd been officially promoted. No more assisting. He was running his own operations.
[B-Rank Talent Entry: dical Special Jonin]
[Trigger Condition: Master nine dical ninjutsu techniques]
[Effect: All dical ninjutsu effectiveness increased by 100%]
[Note: Learning additional dical ninjutsu can lead to advancent to A-Rank dical Jonin]
The jump from his previous C-Rank entry—which had boosted effectiveness by 50%—was staggering. Now, if two dical ninjas used identical techniques with the sa chakra expenditure, Hanekawa's would be twice as effective. In practical terms, he was operating at Tsunade's level.
Not bad for a spy with a system, he thought wryly.
The promotion path was weird though. To reach A-Rank, he apparently needed to master every dical ninjutsu in existence. That was... a lot of studying.
A knock interrupted his thoughts. A nurse in standard-issue uniform poked her head through the door.
"Hanekawa, we have an incoming surgery. You're needed in OR-2."
"Patient and condition?" He was already standing, moving toward the door.
"Hatake Kakashi. Lightning strike during training."
Hanekawa paused mid-step. "Lightning strike? Deliberately?"
"Appears so. He attracted it while practicing Lightning Style ninjutsu."
Oh. He's definitely trying to create Raikiri. Hanekawa had wondered when that would happen. Kakashi had probably seen Minato's Rasengan and decided he needed his own signature technique. Competitive little genius.
---
Asuma was waiting outside the operating room, and his expression when he saw Hanekawa's attending physician coat was priceless.
"You're the surgeon?" Asuma's eyes widened. "When did you—"
"Long story. I'll explain later." Hanekawa was already moving past him. "How bad?"
"Pretty bad. Lightning damage, burns, nervous system trauma."
Hanekawa nodded and entered the OR.
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Kakashi lay unconscious on the table, his exposed skin charred and swollen an angry red. The diagnostic report confird what Asuma had said: severe burns and significant nerve damage.
"Begin," Hanekawa instructed, pulling on fresh gloves. "Prepare hemostasis."
He ford the hand seals for Chakra Scalpel—an A-Rank technique he'd spent three months mastering after learning Mystical Palm Technique from Nonō. Green chakra coalesced in his right hand, shaping itself into a precise blade.
The necrotic skin ca away cleanly. The mont blood welled up, his assistant deployed hemostatic jutsu. Working thodically, Hanekawa exposed the damaged tissue beneath, then switched to Mystical Palm Technique, his hands glowing with healing green light.
An hour later, Kakashi's nervous system was restored. His skin was already beginning to regenerate.
"Transfer him to recovery," Hanekawa said, stripping off his gloves. "He should be fine in a week."
The dical team moved with practiced efficiency. They already treated him like a jonin-level physician, even if the system still classified him as special jonin. Honestly, after mastering both Chakra Scalpel and Mystical Palm Technique, he'd probably exceeded what most dical ninjas could do. The only techniques left were the Yin Seal and Hundred Healings—Tsunade's personal techniques.
Asuma caught up with him in the hallway, looking like he'd swallowed sothing bitter.
"So when exactly did you beco the youngest attending physician in Konoha?" His tone was carefully neutral, which ant he was very annoyed.
"Half a month ago. Nonō said I was ready, so..." Hanekawa shrugged. "I was ready."
Asuma's jaw clenched. Hanekawa almost felt bad. Almost.
"How did Kakashi end up getting struck by lightning anyway?" Hanekawa asked, steering the conversation away from dangerous territory.
"He's trying to create a Lightning Style technique to rival your Rasengan." Asuma's frustration was evident. "Shisui's been developing his own techniques too—Uchiha Style: Sword Leaping Fla, Uchiha Style: Raging Wind Sword. Kakashi got competitive."
Ah. The classic genius arms race. Hanekawa had seen this coming. Kakashi was talented enough to create Raikiri, and if he succeeded, it would be a solid technique. Maybe Hanekawa could learn it eventually through his connections.
"With his talent, he'll probably pull it off," Hanekawa said.
Asuma looked like he wanted to throw sothing.
---
Evening found Hanekawa back at Tsunade's house, stomach growling ominously. He'd expected her ho by dinner. It was now nine o'clock, and he'd been waiting with increasing irritation.
When she finally arrived, he didn't bother with pleasantries.
"Teacher, it's nine at night. I've been starving for three hours."
"I already ate," Tsunade said, which was absolutely not the right answer.
"You—" Hanekawa took a breath. "Why would you do that?"
"I was at the Uchiha compound." She settled onto the couch with unusual grace. "Mikoto needed dical attention."
Mikoto? Hanekawa's mind raced. "Is she sick?"
"Quite the opposite." Tsunade smiled, and there was sothing almost tender in her expression. "She's pregnant. I stayed to give her guidance on prenatal care."
Hanekawa blinked.
Itachi's coming.
For the Uchiha clan, this was huge. The birth of Itachi Uchiha would ripple through the village's entire power structure. The kid would be a prodigy—that was basically guaranteed with Fugaku and Mikoto as parents.
"That's..." Hanekawa searched for the right response. "That's actually good news."
"It is." Tsunade's expression softened further. "The Uchiha are important to the village. A healthy heir is good for everyone."
Except for the tiline, Hanekawa thought grimly. He knew what was coming—years down the line, Itachi would beco a problem. But that was future-Hanekawa's concern.
Right now, he was just hungry.
"So about dinner..." he started.
Tsunade laughed. "Co on. I'll make sothing."
As she moved toward the kitchen, Hanekawa followed, already ntally cataloging what ingredients she'd have on hand. At least his teacher had decent instincts about food, even if her timing was occasionally terrible.
Being a spy with a system is weird, he thought, watching her work. But at least the food's good.
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