Before I could even come to my senses, my glasses were snatched off me, and the mask ended up around my neck.
"Oh, what a handsome fellow you've become! Even more handsome than I expected, when I first saw your chubby, charming face," the kunoichi chuckled with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "I bet girls hang on your every glance, you handsome devil! And you wouldn't even guess you're just fourteen."
"They hang on even when I'm disguised!" I grumbled, returning my glasses and mask to their rightful places and suspiciously looking around.
Fortunately, there was only one woman nearby in her forties with a child, who paid us no attention. Perfect—there are enough admirers for me at the hospital who have known me practically since childhood. I don't need other girls chasing after me, not just on the orders of clan heads, but on their own initiative too. And here I thought Sasuke's fan club was something the author made up, not a real thing. Ugh!
"Aha, so that's why you prefer to walk around like this? I get it!" Linley smirked, nodding her head. "Alright, why are we standing out here, let's go to my place—I'll treat you to some tea, we'll sit and chat."
"Hmm… it seems the visit to Mito's is canceled for today," I said, "alright, let's go, I'll visit Kushina and Mito another day."
My agreement delighted the kunoichi—she literally lit up with joy, as if she had just shed a burden from her shoulders, and eagerly grabbed my hand, dragging me along. Before I knew it, I found myself at her place, sipping some exotic tea, munching on delicious cookies, and sharing mildly significant news about the village and my life that had occurred during her absence. I noticed that Linley listened to me with evident pleasure, but when it came to her own life, she responded with impersonal generalities and amusing anecdotes from her time "in the field". After a while, I finally asked a direct question.
"And how about… the war?"
Up until then cheerful and happy, albeit not glowing, Linley instantly deflated and aged ten years, looking much older than her actual age. Watching this unexpected transformation, I realized at that moment that my friend's entire joy was not just because she had met an old good acquaintance, but also because she wouldn't have to spend a single day alone with her own memories. Pushing aside the cup, I leaned in slightly closer on the couch and reassuringly hugged her shoulders, earning a barely noticeable grateful smile.
"The war? Fighting is incredibly tough—blood, dirt, countless wounded and dying, lucky enough to make it to camp," she leaned slightly against my side, as if shielding herself from an unseen chill. "In our shinobi profession, death is a constant companion, but in war, it's different—constant deaths of friends and acquaintances, whom you can't help because you're trying not to die yourself, constant tension, waiting for the next strike…"
Linley fell silent for a moment, gathering herself.
"And it's not just death or blood—you can get used to those with time—but you can't just get used to the moans and screams of the dying, rotting alive from the sand that gets into their wounds, the effects of various poisons that Suna is famous for. A small scratch can mean preparing a coffin for someone, if there isn't an experienced medical-nin nearby. Some poisons act instantly, some over time, and even if you manage to get them to camp, there are never enough medical-nin, and some are left to die or lose a limb just to save their lives, condemning them to a life as cripples. And even during the rare hours of sleep, when there's time to rest, you can't forget or detach—bloody nightmares haunt you, faces distorted in agony of people long dead. Dead friends reproach you for not saving them, dead enemies threaten even from the other side…"
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