NADESHIKO VILLAGE
We lounged languidly by the windowsill, looking out from the room we were provided up in the matriarch's tower at the village below. Beyond Nadeshiko's walls, a sprawling forest extended from the foot of the hill on which the community was perched towards the horizon. The sun had long since descended out of view, the night sky now adorned by a brilliant display of twinkling stars.
Even as we indulged ourself in the tranquillity of the moment, our attention never left the middle-aged medic applying medical ninjutsu to our battered form. Our senses remained trained on his chakra network, ensuring that the subtle genjutsu we actively sustained in his psyche remained effective as well as undetectable. Although we were perfectly capable of healing the damage we sustained during our battle with that living corpse of a Hokage on our own, we still maintained the facade of requiring external aid in a bid to lower our hostess' caution as well as explain our relatively easy acquiescence to entertain her request for dialogue.
Although we were perfectly cognizant of the fact that going as far as allowing an unknown shinobi the opportunity to peruse our body was a significant tactical risk, we still entertained it. However, we quickly realised it was quite a bit of a hassle to properly direct his subconscious so as not to inflict further damage to our body. After all, as a result of the Genjutsu weaved over his perception, the medic was effectively performing multiple, highly complex, medical procedures at once, blind, and without an accurate delineation of the body he was working on.
In the end, the process of getting him to focus on mending and restarting our primary heart while we prepared to transition control of our bloodstream to the organ from our secondary and tertiary hearts was especially tricky since there was a very significant risk of one—or potentially, both—of the rudimentary organs failing before the procedure was complete. The hearts were in no way developed enough to handle the strain we forced them to endure just a few dozen minutes prior and had sustained significant damage in the process. The possibility of us suffering a cardiac arrest rose substantially with every passing minute.
Of course, The medic, Yusuke, was completely ignorant of his contributions to our cause, believing the extreme chakra drain he was experiencing was used to mend multiple major fractures in our upper appendicular region, but that was beside the point.
None of the injuries we sustained were particularly life-threatening for so long as we had the opportunity to attend to them. Yusuke's contribution was even much less required, or desired, as in a few hours, we would have completely patched all the major injuries we sustained during our battle against Tobirama. Still, intuition told us that this was not an opportunity we could afford to let slip through our fingers. Especially not now that Konoha had thrown away all illusions of civility.
"There," Yusuke said as he finally sealed the puncture wound that ran through our right ventricle, "that should do it! Try moving your right arm, I want to see how that shoulder blade is holding up."
We complied with his request, rotating our arm in a full circle as our primary heart quivered, slowly restarting. We let the organ run for a few moments before shutting down our auxiliary hearts and closing off the redundant, non-essential blood vessels connected to them in order to initiate an accelerated cellular restoration procedure.
"How does it feel?" Yusuke asked.
"Better," we replied, flashing a smile at the man.
"Good. I have mended all the major fractures, so you ought not to feel any more pain. A few microfractures remain here and there though, but the bones will heal naturally in a few weeks, so try not to put too much strain on them. And get lots of rest, ok?"
"Understood."
"Good. When you are ready, tell the Kunoichi outside to take you to Lady Marika. She would be waiting for you."
"Thank you, Yusuke-san."
"Sure! Take care, Uchiha-san."
The door shut with a dull click as the medic vacated the room. Our gaze panned around to look at the village below one more time before we rose from our seat to retrieve a set of clothing set aside by our hosts for our convenience. It was a plain grey kimono; one without our clan's symbol proudly emblazoned on the back. It irked us that we had to wear this instead of the spare high-collars in our storage scroll, but certain sacrifices had to be made. At the moment our greatest weapon against Konoha remained our ability to stay discrete.
After exhaustively checking the garments for any signs of foul play we slipped into them, allowing the soft fabric to cover our gruesomely scarred flesh, as well as the few Fūinjutsu seals tattooed unto our skin for the sole purpose of screening our numerous bodily modifications from the prying eyes of Konoha's Hyuga operatives. Tightening the obi around our waist, we slipped into the pair of getas placed at the entrance.
The shoji slid open with a pleasant rasp as we exited the room. There, waiting by the door was an attractive, dark-haired Kuniochi.
"Take me to Lady Marika," we said to the woman.
"Yes, Uchiha-san," came her curt reply as she turned to lead us away.