After unpacking from the scroll a large piece of meat wrapped in special fire-resistant paper and a large pot of rice and vegetables — all still hot — I had a hearty lunch and silently rejoiced that my food scrolls were stocked with ready meals for at least half a year ahead. Army rations had worn me out during the journey.
Besides, I didn't want to lose the muscle mass I had worked so hard to build. I had seen such patients enough back at the hospital — all the body's resources went into numerous battles, and in case of serious injury, there wasn't enough strength or reserves left for recovery. Then these poor souls would lie with IV drips, recovering for months.
Once settled in, I headed to inspect the infirmary. It was the same rough structure as the others, makeshift for the campaign conditions. Basic futons were thrown over the beds, and weak fuin lamps provided the lighting, just a couple of them. That's it. In these conditions, it was hard to expect more.
The only thing that pleased me was a box with essential medical supplies for treating wounds and bandaging, tucked against the far wall. After all, disinfecting a wound and using blood-stopping powder was much simpler and more economical than relying solely on chakra and my own medical ninjutsu skills. And there might not have been even that much. Sure, I had brought some medicines with me, but how long would they last with a constant stream of wounded?
"Nara-san?" The sensation of approaching chakra and a familiar voice distracted me from sorting through the medicine box.
Glancing back, I noticed an Uchiha at the entrance. Ah, so she hadn't ignored my request.
"Come in and lie down wherever you want, I'll finish up here and then take care of you," I nodded, returning to my task.
A couple of minutes later, I had a clear idea of what to expect from the local supplies, so it was time to fulfill my direct duties.
"So, I'll heal your wound now, but remember, self-treatment with barely controlled mystical hand techniques and serious injuries is suicide! It's safer to get help from a proper specialist. If you're interested, I can even give you a few lessons."
The kunoichi nodded in agreement and even attempted a bow from her lying position.
"I beg you to take care of me, Sensei."
I halted her attempt with a gentle tap on her forehead. Locals generally held teachers in high regard, especially if they were medical ninjutsu specialists... Age didn't matter — even if I was five or six years younger than the kunoichi, that fact wouldn't change the respect shown. Otherwise, they wouldn't listen to a nine-year-old in the hospital!
In my previous world, this would have been absurd, but here, it was a real situation that hardly surprised anyone. Considering that not long ago, clans sent children as young as eight or ten to war, considering them adults in earnest, why be surprised?
It didn't take me long to fully heal the wound, thanks to skills long honed, but still, in the past hour, the infirmary had filled with quite a large number of people who had heard about the arrival of a proper medical ninjutsu practitioner. After finishing with the girl, I instructed her to take it easy for a few days and eat well so her body could recover properly, then turned to the other patients.
I even had to enlist the help of a few clones, otherwise, I wouldn't have managed with twenty people by evening. But what surprised me the most was the similarity of problems among the fighters seeking help (some of whom were brought in despite resistance from neighbors or friends): wounds that were inadequately treated or poorly set fractures, cases of self-treatment without proper training. There was even one man with a shoulder that had just started to knit, who hadn't received any medical assistance beyond a simple bandage.
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