Chapter 17

"I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here," Rasa said as he took a seat behind the desk in the office, normally reserved for the head of the Medical Ninja Corps. Chiyo plopped down on a different seat, looking none too pleased with the happenings. I just grunted at him, not really interested in whatever bullshit he had for me.

"I made you a promise," he said, and I just lifted an eyebrow. "I made you a promise, and nothing will change. The position of Kazekage will be yours, but for that to happen, your stay here must come to an end."

"You sent me here," I reminded him.

"I know. But circumstances have changed. We've ridden out the economic windfall of your victory as best as we could, but that is beginning to dry up," he said, and I waited for him to include the bit where any of that was my business. Sure, I wanted to inherit an economically stable Suna, but I didn't really care either way. I knew enough about 21st-century finances and business that I was sure I could turn things around with enough time and absolute authority over the economy. After all, Suna wasn't lacking in exports, just the business acumen to make money from them.

"Re-introducing you into the active pool should drive some renewed interest, and besides that, the Daimyo himself has requested you for a mission."

"Since when did the Daimyo make demands of a Kage?" His eyes darted to mine at my words, and his tone changed as he replied.

"Requested, not demanded. Mind your words, boy," he said, stressing the words as he spoke. I just smiled placidly. He could dress it up as he wanted, but he had sent me here for a minimum of three years and was now summoning me after only two. Rasa didn't seem to me to be the sort to change his mind so easily.

"I apologize, Father," I said, enjoying the way he stilled at the words. If there was one thing time spent with Mebuki had taught me, it was how to read people and know exactly what to say to get under their skin.

"The Daimyo will be making a royal progress across all the lords of the Land of Wind, and your mission is to be his bodyguard for the duration of the mission."

"Doesn't the Daimyo have shinobi guardians of his own?" I asked.

"You will be expected to work with the guardian ninja where you can, but never mistake yourself for one of them. You take your orders from me," he said, and I didn't have enough data points to go off of, but I was guessing there was something between Rasa, the Daimyo, and the Guardian Ninja.

With my mission given, Rasa stood up, clearly preparing to leave before dropping some last words. "You will be expected to set off the day after tomorrow. Do your best to prepare. Your account remains active, so feel free to make withdrawals as needed. And finally, dispel the clones on my border before you manage to cause an international incident."

The last part of his sentence actually almost sent me reeling. He knew? How the fuck had he known? He left, and I was left alone in the room with Chiyo.

"I don't normally let my students leave so early, but the circumstances are anything but normal," she said, and I nodded at her. She still looked exactly as she had two years ago. I guess after 15 years, the stress of running two separate Ninja Corps was nothing new to her.

"However, it would be doing you a disservice to consider you a normal student. You've been ready to graduate for months now, haven't you?" she asked, and I nodded in the affirmative.

"Good. You will be taking your final exams today."

XXXXXXXXX

The final exams for admission into the Suna Medical Ninja Corps were famed for their hellish difficulty, but I was confident. I was ready. First things first, though: dispelling the clones. Once I made the decision, I felt my chakra capacity swell as the chakra they had taken to create the clones returned back to me, with a healthy increase on top. I smiled, feeling my power return to full capacity. If I were being completely honest, I was beginning to get a bit bored from staying in the same place, attending the same classes, and reading the same scrolls day in and day out.

My exams were all scheduled to take place today, giving me the entirety of tomorrow to prepare for the mission. Normally, the exams would span three days, so it said something about Chiyo's confidence in my abilities. I was called by one of the doctors and I moved into the classroom that had been set aside for my use. I was to complete all the written exams in succession, without breaks in between.

The first sheet placed in front of me was filled out by the time they brought the second one. The exams were easy for me. To most others, they would have been something completely different. They didn't just test your ability to regurgitate information. Every single question dealt with real-world applications of the knowledge gained over years at this institution. Although I hadn't spent six years here, I had studied the entire curriculum, and with some of the information Mebuki had given me about her rotations at the hospital, I was able to answer the more practical questions that went beyond the official curriculum.

For the questions I didn't know, I did my best to guess and then moved on. I finished the entire exam in two hours and was quickly shuffled off to the practical exams. I stood in front of Chiyo and two other doctors as they asked me to perform jutsu after jutsu in front of them, and then patients were brought in. Most of them were unconscious, and I was given the duty of diagnosing and treating them.

It wasn't easy. Most of them had illnesses I had only read about, and some required surgeries that I did my best to perform with the doctors standing over my shoulder, questioning every decision I made. Eventually, the last patient was taken out, and once I set my eyes on him, I knew this was going to be the hardest one. He was pale. My diagnostic jutsu showed that he had a tumor in his brain. It was malignant, my second test told me, and it had progressed significantly, covering most of the anterior region of the brain already.

The only hope for him was surgery. I said as much to the doctors, and none of them said a word, neither encouraging nor discouraging me. I took that as permission to continue. Surely they wouldn't let me kill someone in an exam.

The sand outside the disinfected tent rustled as I willed it, and two clones of me appeared before hurrying inside the room. One of the doctors made a move to object but thought better of it. My clones had no need to speak. We were one mind in three bodies at this point.

With a flex of my chakra, my chakra scalpel formed, and I began cutting. It was easy to cut apart the skin to reveal the skull, and as I prepared my tools, one of my clones took my place to cut open the skull with a different version of the chakra scalpel jutsu. When he first set his eyes on the tumor, I took a deep breath. It was practically fused to his brain at this point. I scanned it through my clone's eyes as I prepared the instruments, trying to figure out which sections of his brain we'd need to remove to take out the cancer. A hemispherectomy was on the table, but I considered it a last resort.

I scoped it and began making cuts once my clone stepped aside. Both of them maintained mystic palms on the brain to give me a good idea of what I was working on. The mystic palm had a diagnostic function that often went overlooked. With the ability to get real-time feedback on what I was doing and what was happening to the patient, I could tweak and change my technique as time went on. I had to remove whole sections of the brain where the tumor had fully taken root and was impossible to excise, but it was still possible for him to live with those sections gone. My only goal right now was to maintain life and as much brain function as possible. It was possible to live a fulfilling life after a whole hemispherectomy, so I had faith.

Of course, as time went on, I began to see that it was nowhere near as easy as I had originally expected. In fact, no matter what I did, brain function was being lost. I flooded the brain with chakra to stimulate the neurons as they fired, but that proved to be nothing but a temporary measure. I set my knife aside, removed the sutures, and did my best to reattach the section of the brain I had just cut out with hands as steady as possible. My fingers blurred as I completed the delicate stitching and flooded the area with healing chakra again. The good news was that he was no longer expiring right on the table, but the bad news was that the area I had just operated on showed the largest tumor growth percentage.

I looked at the doctors, but they gave nothing away. I turned back to the brain, studying it from three angles, trying to figure out the next approach. I tried going in from the right instead, saving that section for last. When I finally returned to that area after finishing with the rest, the problem became even more apparent. He wouldn't survive long with a tumor this size. Even with all I had done, he was still a dead man if I didn't find a way to remove it. Cutting it out didn't work, but was that my only option?

I stepped back to think as my clones took detailed scans of the brain and the tumor, trying to figure out where one ended and the other began. How are cancers dealt with? My knowledge from this world told me surgery, but my previous life gave me another answer: chemo. Could I emulate cancer-killing radiation with my chakra? I could try. I could definitely try. Further scans showed that the man wasn't long for this world if I didn't get rid of the cancer. The worst thing that could happen would be that he'd die a few minutes earlier.

I placed my hands above the tumor and focused my chakra. The goal here was to kill the tumor without harming the brain. I began, starting with the medical chakra of the mystic palm and twisting and distorting it until the result bore no resemblance to the original. An actual killing jutsu. My clones could feel it begin to affect the tumor as the growth started to detach from the brain on its own. I was visibly sweating as I maintained the concentration to kill the growth.

When it was all done, we took another scan, and I felt my heart drop to my stomach. The cancer had been killing him, but it was also the only thing keeping him alive. He was losing brain function, and this time there was nothing I could do. I dropped to the floor as my failure became clear to me. The doctors only watched dispassionately as the patient expired right before our eyes.

"Return to your quarters and clean yourself up. We will summon you when your results are ready," Chiyo said as she swept from the room, with the doctors following closely, whispering among themselves. I couldn't even acknowledge her; my eyes remained on the patient. The patient who was very much dead.

I stood in front of them. There were six people on the desk in front of me, and they all stared with those judging eyes. The doctor to the left was the first to speak, "You scored 97% on the written exams, well within the passing range, and actually the highest score we've recorded on those particular exams, beating Dr. Tsubasa's long-standing record," she said with a smile, and the man she referenced just sent me a bright smile. After years here, I had noticed that they weren't as inclined to hate me for the circumstances of my birth, almost like they had forgotten.

"Congratulations," the man said. Dr. Tsubasa, he was one of the doctors who had been with Chiyo for my practical exams, so he was the next to speak.

"For the practical exams, your score is a bit more difficult to determine. First of all, you failed the very first test in the surgeries. Every single person who has passed those exams has done so after requesting nurses to aid them. It was a test of common sense, and you failed it. But there have never been marks allocated to it. Failing that test often meant failing the rest, as very few doctors can carry out difficult surgeries single-handedly," he said, and I resisted the urge to facepalm. I clearly hadn't been looking underneath the underneath. That was my fault. These weren't doctors, no matter how often they referred to themselves with that word. They were med-nin. Emphasis on the nin.

"You did not fail the surgeries and actually performed beyond expectation, except for another test you failed. The last patient was inoperable. As much as our job as doctors is to treat, we must also be capable of recognizing our limits. If a doctor spends all their chakra on patients that are impossible to save, what will they have left for the patients that they can actually save? We are not just blind soldiers. We are decision-makers. You must never forget that. Now, before we make an assessment on your practical exams, it has been decided that we give you the opportunity to explain the last jutsu you attempted," he said, giving me a look, and I instantly caught on to the wavelength. They were going to fail me. It might have been my age, my identity, or even just the fact that I'd failed the two tests of character and decision-making. I was getting an opportunity here.

"Uhm, the jutsu, I haven't given it a name yet. It works on a similar principle as the mystic palm jutsu. Instead of using chakra to simulate radiation waves that aid the healing process by encouraging cellular regeneration, I did the opposite. Cellular degradation was enhanced by the jutsu but directed only towards the cancerous cells because of the scans I had earlier taken," I said, trying to drive home how groundbreaking the jutsu could be without outright saying it to avoid sounding self-aggrandizing.

"I see. And how were you sure it would work?"

"The patient was dying. No matter what I did, the patient was going to die on the table. This was the method that had the highest chance of success, so I made the call," I said.

The doctors looked at me, not giving anything away. Tsubasa, from his seat at the leftmost edge of the table, spoke out, "I believe I've heard enough. I vote to pass him," he said, and the woman next to him concurred, "Pass," she said.

There were six doctors on the table apart from Chiyo, and the next one in line clearly wasn't my biggest fan. "No, a genius he might be, but he shows none of the maturity expected of a med-nin of Sunagakure. This is not Konoha. Fail," he said, looking me straight in the eyes. I honestly had no idea what the comparison with Konoha even meant, but it clearly hit home with the doctors since the next one quickly agreed with him, also failing me.

After the two of them, the next doctor stared at me for a bit before speaking out, "Yes, this is not Konoha, but maybe there is a lot to be learned from their methods. If ours are superior, where is our Tsunade? If we stick to tried and tested methods, never innovating, then we will always play second fiddle. He passes," she said, and that put the vote at 3-2.

The last doctor on the line could have tossed things into a murky tie, but he just lifted his head to the sky before speaking, "I've got a good feeling about this one, and I've learned to trust my instincts. Pass," he said, and I felt relief fill me. Chiyo had the last vote.

"Not ready to be a med-nin of Sunagakure. Fail," she said, and even though I was filled with betrayal, I cared little for her vote. 4-3. I passed. It was finally over for me. Done.

"Notwithstanding my vote, you still pass these exams. Congratulations, Gaara of the Desert, you are now an official medical-nin of Sunagakure," she said, and I nodded before bowing to the table in thanks.

"Thank you," I whispered to them as I left the tent that had been set aside for the judging. I saw multiple people suddenly look away from the entrance as I left, and I just shook my head before heading to my room to pack up. Of course, I shouldn't have been surprised to see Mebuki relaxing on my hammock as I entered.

"How'd it go?" the girl asked, practically pouncing on me as I entered.

"I passed," I said, and she whooped in joy, threatening permanent damage to my ears.

"Yes, I knew you could do it. You had it down pat," she said, and I smiled at her faith, not letting on how close it had been at the end.

"Wait. That makes me your Senpai now, Mebuki-imouto," I said, emphasising the word for little sister. Her screams brought me great joy as she chased me straight to the mess hall, screaming for me to take it back.

XXXXXXX

Once I left the med corps hall, I had a day until I was going to embark on my mission, so that meant shopping. I stopped by the old house to find it still in good condition, but no Yashamaru in sight. We had never bonded as people. He was supposed to be a father figure/handler-like person for me, but whenever I looked at him, all I saw was the guy who tried to blow up the OG Garra at some point. Without absolute defense working in my favor, there was no way I was taking the risk of letting him get that close.

I preferred my situation to Garra's, yes, but I honestly felt cheated by the fact that I didn't have that in my back pocket. I mean, my two theories on why it was gone were that either Gaara's mom—whatever her name was—had left the blessing on his actual soul, and I didn't enjoy that since I wasn't him, or that Gamer's mind was doing something to turn it off. The former theory was a long-held one, but the latter had only come after I found out there was a pissed-off Chakra monster still messing around somewhere in my head. Wasn't that just a thrilling thought?

I looked at my old clothes and decided they were practically unsalvageable. The outfit I wore in the med corps was good, just a bigger version of what I had worn to the Chunin exams, but now that I was going on actual missions and putting my life on the line, I wondered if it would suffice. I wore a yukata that did strange things to my taijutsu and probably stuck out like a sore thumb. Good for the Chunin exams, but not for defending the most important man in all of the Land of Wind.

In the ninja supplies store, I ignored the looks I got. They still recognized me, even with the longer hair, paler skin, and taller build. Who the fuck was keeping these guys updated on my appearance? They didn't do anything stupid like trying to chase me away, like what always happened to Naruto in fanfiction. That bit never made sense to me. If I was scared of someone, I definitely would not be rude, disrespectful, and abusive to them. I would do what the shopkeeper was doing with me. He dogged my every step, being obnoxiously respectful and obviously trying his best to get me out of his store as quickly as possible, while still trying not to piss me off. It was one of two ways they reacted to me. The other option was to completely ignore my presence.

I found a nice red jumpsuit that fit me like a glove and matched it up with a utility belt. It was a good outfit, and I could admit that I looked hella good, especially with my hair out of its ponytail and just falling to my shoulders. Oh, what I wouldn't have given for hair like this in my previous life. It was silky smooth and, above all, did exactly what it was told at all times.

Looking in the mirror, I could see that I looked quite a bit like Gaara did at the beginning of the series, but only without the Gourd. Inventory fixed that, and if I was being honest, Sand manipulation was an altogether minor part of my combat arsenal at this point. It was powerful, and I was good with it, but it just felt wrong. It wasn't me. Not my power. For some reason, I much preferred to use my own jutsu that I learned with my effort rather than using sand manipulation that I was gifted with as a result of what I contained. It's illogical, I know.

But we were human. Our species was never known for being logical. With my outfit secured in as many copies as I could find at the store, I went straight to the nearest weapons shop. Kunai and shuriken never saw great use at my hands, but still, they could prove useful at some point, and I grabbed a short sword on a whim. I got a healthy discount for some reason, so it mattered little that most of my purchases were in chakra steel. I checked my account and was surprised to find myself with much more money than I had ever known what to deal with. It was good to remind myself that while Rasa was Kazekage, it had been Karura who married down. She was nobility. Actual nobility, not one of those merchant families that got some money and thought themselves blue bloods for some reason.

No, she hailed from one of the oldest noble families from back during the warring states era. She was disinherited once she married into the shinobi lifestyle, but it seemed that hadn't had any bearing on the kids. I got a healthy stipend from a trust fund I couldn't touch, which had been accumulating since the day I was born. Rasa sent an allowance into my account, but it was a drop in the bucket compared to the money I already had. Shame that I hadn't known about any of that until I became a Chunin. It would have made my earlier days a lot easier. After arming myself to the teeth, and even grabbing some senbon and an actual archery set to play around with, I moved on to the next part of my shopping plans.

One thing the anime never showed was that Suna was big, and while not an economic powerhouse, we were actually a literary one. Nobles and merchants from across the nations actually came here to buy books and scrolls, so I was more than spoiled for choice. I made sure to grab a copy of Jiraiya's Tale of a Gutsy Ninja because it was apparently a good read, and while I was at the section dedicated to him, I picked up a few Icha Icha books—the entire book series, actually—just to assuage my curiosity, I assure you.

A/N; I am NOT a doctor. Please don't come after me for any inaccuracies. I apologise in advance if this offends anyone. How'd the chapter look?