"Give him four cc's of morphine. He has a basilar skull fracture, broken nose, a large contusion on the left most side of the sternum, and an increased region around the liver. Edema is a possible cause. Prepare him for surgery, tent number seven."

Panic and chaos was abundant. Medical staff, nurses and doctors alike, were rushed about from tent to tent. The coppery smell of blood was in the air, screams echoing throughout the small confinements. The continuous sound of agony and death was everywhere. Shadows appearing from behind the flaps of the makeshift hospital were seen entering, never exiting, always coming but never going.

Moans and pleads were heard from inside, many were terrified to enter the House of Death, as was the affectionate nickname given to it.

Officially, it was known as Base Number Four, Squadron BLACK, Section Nine.

Unfortunately, the name itself happened to have some very unlucky numbers and colors.

It also happened to be at the front lines of a war.

The most bloody and dangerous war shinobi had ever fought in. The Great 4th Shinobi War.

She'd been working endlessly. Patient after patient was brought to her. All were swiftly evaluated, healed to some extent, and/or sent to an operating tent. It was a never ending flow, injury after injury, day after day. Sakura hadn't slept in the past 72 hours and she was nearing the 80th.

Strangely enough, she didn't really notice. Sakura was not really aware that more than three days had passed since she had last rested. It all seemed like one, very long day. There was no difference in night and day, especially when the sky was covered in smoke from the bombs and explosives that went off daily. Sakura hadn't stepped foot out of her assigned tent since the raid had begun.

A special operation had been underway. Several squads of Jounin were sent to infiltrate the enemy base in hope of retrieving hostages and stolen information on the Allies. Surprisingly, it had all gone according to plan. Most of the squad had made it back with a considerable number of hostages and information. It had been successful and promising that the Allies were finally getting ahead. But of course, when fighting a war, it is imperative to never think something is promising.

The hostages that had been retrieved had been sent to one of the medical tents. All were complaining of severe stomach aches and dietary problems. When one had passed out after retching up some blood, one of the med nins had taken it upon themselves and a few others to do an exploratory operation to see what had been the cause. They had opened up the shinobi's mid section only to find it completely clogged with explosive tags.

No one in that tent survived.

Immediately afterwards, like clockwork, shinobi were exploding everywhere. In mess halls, medical tents, bathrooms, and in the middle of training grounds. It was like something out of a horror story. But then again, when is a war ever not?

Corpses, or what remained of them, were scattered everywhere. An occasional head, or half a leg were found. Red stained the ground. Everywhere smelled like carnage and blood. No where was safe.

The survivors of what was now deemed as the "Exploding Massacre", had been sent to any available emergency tents. Most were already dying and it was all any of the med nins could do but to end it quickly for them. Those that were fortunate, or perhaps unfortunate, enough to survive, had to have limbs amputated off or risk infection and death. But, then again, death was not something you could exactly risk.

Sakura was currently seeing her 46th patient for the day, or maybe it was night, and it was all the same. Should she let this person live to fight this gruesome, pointless battle another day? Or let them die quickly and peacefully?

The shinobi's name was Kibo. It meant hope. He was a 50 year old Chunin, lucky to have survived this long. He had been impaled by a piece of debris after a bomb had exploded near the sleeping quarters. He was originally from Base Number Two, a base that was stationed towards the back of the fighting. Why he was now in a medical tent at the front lines, Sakura didn't have a clue.

A shaft of metal had gone straight through his left leg, shattering his femur. He had been waiting for an available medical personal for more than three hours. Someone had managed to create a functional REBOA to stop the bleeding but that was all that had been done for the man. He had been enduring constant pain for three hours without saying a word, patiently waiting for his number to be called.

Unfortunately, since there were so many wounded shinobi coming in, not all of them could be seen right away. Each new patient was given a number and they'd have to wait for their number to be called before they could be seen by an available medic. Those with severe injuries were rushed to the top of the list and seen as quickly as possible. Others were not so lucky. Some even died waiting to be seen and healed. The ones that died where they waited were taken outside and burned. They could not afford to waste time burying a body. The dead were documented though, making sure that their names were highlighted on a clipboard so their family could be notified that they had died.

Focusing on the man's shattered femur, Sakura realized that nothing could be done for him. They'd have to amputate the leg and make sure it didn't get infected. If they weren't in the middle of a war, Sakura would've actually been able to fix his leg. Yes, the bone was shattered. Yes, it was perhaps the largest bone in the body and one of the most important by far. But, at the moment, Sakura didn't have the tools, supplies, or even the chakra she'd need in order to complete the operation. Standard procedure stated that if the patient's injury could not be healed with the supplies and time given, medics are ordered to do the next best thing for that patient, whether that means amputation or death.

Writing down her findings and next procedure, Sakura handed the clipboard over to the assisting nurse, who looked pale at the sight of the gory injury.

"Get him ready for an amputation," Sakura ordered. There was no time for pleasantries. This needed to be dealt with now.

The nurse nodded quickly and scuttled away, gathering the supplies Sakura would need.

Looking over at the man lying down before her, Sakura expected herself to feel some sort of pity for him. He was 50. An old man fighting in a war. He'd just heard that his leg was going to have to be amputated off. He looked petrified. But she felt nothing. There was no room for pity. They were in the middle of a war. There was no time for feelings. It was best to get rid of them so they wouldn't overpower any logical decisions that would have to be made. Sakura had learned that during the first year of the war. She'd passed out from chakra exhaustion after her tenth patient. She'd tried to heal all of their injuries perfectly. How foolish of her.

"Will it hurt?" a faint whisper asked.

Refocusing on the man, Sakura stared into his eyes. They were alight with a child like fear.

Sakura smiled a little, trying to seem as kind as possible. "No, it won't. You'll be under anesthesia during the operation. You won't feel a thing."

He sighed as he closed his eyes, "Ah, I see."

Sakura raised an eyebrow at the man, "Is something wrong with that?"

He smiled ruefully, the lines on the sides of his face raising. They looked like laughter lines.

"Pain is the only thing that's telling me I'm still alive. So what happens when I stop feeling it?"

Sakura sighed as she looked back towards the mans leg. So many of the shinobi she'd seen were so close to mentally breaking. Some of them had already broke. Surprisingly, she'd been asked that question before and she'd answered it the same way every time.

"Pain is relative. If something hurts, it hurts. It just depends on what's hurting that will cause the amount of pain. There will always be pain, but that doesn't mean when you can't feel it, you aren't alive."

The man seemed to ponder this as a mask was put over his face and he began breathing in the anesthesia.

"Count backwards from ten and take deep breaths." Sakura said, making sure she was still in his field of vision.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven... six…. five…. four…."

He passed out and Sakura placed fresh, rubber gloves over her hands with a grimace.

"Pain changes people in numerous ways, Kibo. Good luck."

Sakura had been allowed a break. Approximately twelve hours to rest, wash up, and take care of any personal needs. After those precious hours were up, she would be sent to the very, very front of the war, where there were no medical tents and few medics. She would be thrown into the fray, running after and finding any wounded shinobi and taking care of them as quickly as possible before going out to find a new one.

She'd have to take a bag with her and many medical, sealing, and summoning scrolls. She'd also have to pack weapons in case she'd need to protect herself or one of the many patients she'd encounter. She'd also need an abundance of food and water, seeing as she'd need some for herself and any others she'd find in need.

It was a daunting task indeed, but Sakura was ready for it. She'd been craving some action lately. Anything to get rid of the constant pain of doing the same thing day after day after day.

Now, she wasn't craving blood shed or war. No, far from it. She just needed something different. Something that would keep her on her toes. Make her heart race. Make the blood in her veins dance in adrenaline.

Something that would make her feel like she was living once more.

Not just surviving.

Changing out of her scrubs and into her standard Jounin outfit, Sakura began to gather her materials. She'd been promoted to Jounin at 17, during the first year of the war. It had been a field promotion and, at the time, Sakura had been immensely proud of it. Being able to wear that vest she'd seen so many others wear had made her feel important suddenly. She'd walked around the tents, seeing patients and over seeing surgeries, like she was on top of the world. Like she was untouchable. That day had also been the day she'd passed out from chakra exhaustion. When she'd awoken, Sakura had been promptly scolded by her superiors, telling her that if she wore herself out so easily, how was she supposed to take care of the ones actually fighting the war?

The next day, Sakura had changed out of her attire and exchanged it for regular scrubs. She'd learned her lesson and she'd learnt it well. From that day forward, she didn't waste her chakra or time on those that didn't need it or were a lost cause. As cold as it might've sounded, it was what was required. Feelings or "morals" no longer mattered when you were making a decision of life or death for someone else.

Only the dead had seen the end of this brutal war.

For now, the rest of them were forced to continue on until they died or the battle was put on hold. There was no such thing as peace. Only a temporary pause in the war that was life against death.

Gathering the rest of her things, Sakura made her way through the camp. She had a few more stops to make and people to see before she could leave. You never knew if this would be the last time to see your loved ones, so you had to make the most of every little opportunity. This was one of those opportunities.

Lifting aside a well worn flap, Sakura entered a tent she had gone through many a times. The first time had been out of worry and fear. Every other time had been in silent agony and resignation.

There, lying on a cot attached to an IV and feeding tube, was patient number 4,168. Ink like hair framed a face that was as pale as the sheets around them. They breathed calmly, peacefully, as the sounds of everyday war went on around them. Eyes were sealed shut though, and their body was frail from lack of use and proper nourishment. They lay perfectly still, the only sign that they were truly alive being the small rises and falls of their chest.

Sai had been in a coma since the first year of the war.

Another patient lay nearby, in a separate cot, and watched Sakura as she made her way over to him. They watched as she checked his vitals, like she did every single time she visited, and make sure all the tubes attached to his body were secured properly. They watched as Sakura carefully lifted one of the still hands and placed it in her own, squeezing slightly and looking imploringly at the impassive face that slept.

Finally after a few moments, Sakura released the frail hand in hers and gently placed it back by his side, whispering something softly before turning to look at the other patient.

Green, empty eyes met dull blue ones and they silently stared at one another.

"How long?" the person asked, shifting their head to look at the ceiling of the tent above them.

Sakura didn't need to ask what she had meant as she stared at the beautiful blonde. Tears were already leaking out of Ino's eyes as she stared into a far off world only she could see.

"Two weeks," Sakura replied, walking closer to stand beside her friends bed side.

Ino's voice broke as she whipped her head back around to meet Sakura's again, "That's a week longer than last time…. I thought they were going to give you a break."

Sakura merely shook her head as she grasped Ino's left hand in hers. Ino tried to squeeze Sakura's hand back but was too weak to do much of anything else than a feeble twitch of her fingers. Ino glared at her hand, tears still streaming down her face as her eyes shook with unspoken anger and sorrow.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" she asked as she looked back up at Sakura, eyes resigned.

Sakura didn't answer her but only squeezed harder.

Ino had *Guillain-Barre syndrome, and it had been too late to treat it when they had finally caught it. No one could figure out how she had gotten it or where. It had just…. happened. Another casualty of war. One of millions.

Ino sighed as she sank her head deeper into her pillow. She could only move her chest, arms, neck, and head now. The rest of her was completely paralyzed. Soon, she would be fully paralyzed. She'd die.

Her tears renewed with a vigor as she looked over at Sai. There hadn't been any improvement for him either.

"I miss him Sakura…." she whispered. "It's so quiet in here. It's so… lonely."

"I know, Ino, I know," Sakura said back softly.

"I miss seeing him. Really seeing him. I want him to smile, even if it's fake, I just want him to do something. I wish he would just wake up already, Sakura. It's so h-hard," Ino's voice cracked as she continued to stare at him.

"I know, Ino, I know…."

"I loved him, Sakura…."

Sakura sighed as she bent down to hug her best friend one last time as her own tears mingled with Ino's.

"I know Ino. I know."

After a tearful goodbye and a 'Talk to you later' (it was Ino's way of denying the fact that death could welcome either of them at any time), Sakura gravitated over to another tent. By then, her tears had dried up and a more somber disposition took over her as she pushed aside yet another worn down tent flap.

This was a visit she wasn't looking forward to. Not because of the person she was seeing, but because of the injury they had.

Before she had even dared to enter, Sakura could hear them chanting, "101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107…." and it physically pained her.

There, not more than a few feet in front of her, was Rock Lee. Brave, wonderful, Rock Lee.

He looked up at her approach and gave her a heartbreaking, blinding smile as he slowly lowered himself from his hand stand push ups, "My beautiful Sakura-chan!" he boomed. "What brings your youthful self here?" he asked, as he carefully positioned himself in such a way so he could lean on the backs of his hands as he spoke to her.

She offered a small smile as she sat down next to him, "I've come to say goodbye Lee," Sakura said softly.

His smile slowly retracted as he scrunched up his brows in confusion before understanding, and a slight bit of sadness, flashed in his eyes, "Oh, I see…. When will you be making your return?"

"Two weeks," Sakura replied, her eyes downcast at the dirt beneath them. "Lee, I just wanted to say, before I go, that I am sorr-"

"No," Lee said, his hand outstretched in front of him as he shook his head. "There is nothing to be sorry for, Sakura-chan."

Sakura looked into his black orbs and felt her lip tremble as she fought back a red hotness behind her eyes, "But I…. I did this to you Lee…. it is because of me you can't-" Sakura cut herself off as she put her head in her hands, lamenting as she was unable to finish her sentence.

She heard the sound of a body being dragged across the dirt, and felt a warm hand rest on her shoulder, "You are wrong, Sakura-chan. The bomb is what did this to me. Not you. You did all you could, and it is because of you that I am still alive today. Thank you for that…." Lee said quietly, silently consoling her as he rubbed his thumb across her shoulder.

"Besides!" He said, brightening. "Just because I no longer have legs, doesn't mean I can't still be a great shinobi! Guy-sensei even said that if I work hard enough, I shall easily become a force to reckoned with! Just like Neji-kun!" Lee gave her the classic thumbs up gesture and that winning smile before sobering again.

"Never blame yourself, Sakura-chan, for something that was out of your control."

And with that, they embraced, Sakura clinging to Lee, but careful to avoid the stumps that were once his legs, as a tear escaped her eye. "Thank you, Lee. You truly are Konoha's Magnificent Green Beast."

After he had said goodbye to her, Lee had steadily watched her walk away and out of his tent, listening until her footsteps faded away into the distance. After making sure she was truly gone, Lee wiped off his ridiculously wide smile and slumped over, sighing to himself.

He flinched as his eyes took in the nubs that were supposed to be his legs. All that was left of them was seven inches of mutilated flesh and bone, stitched together, and wrapped in heavy bandages. It was a horrendous thing to look at, and Lee knew it.

He had seen how careful Sakura had been in avoiding looking at his stumps. Had noticed how cautious she was about accidentally touching them as they had hugged. He felt his eyes sting as he took in the brokenness of himself.

Back then, after his first chunin exam, he had thought that the damage to his arm and leg had been life changing. In a way, it had, but it had been nothing compared to what he was faced with now. He had thought he could no longer be a good ninja, everyone had said that the damage was irreparable, but Tsunade had given him a chance. He had taken it, and by some god above, he had lived through the surgery and had recovered to fight another day.

It was one thing to have your body damaged to the point of giving up on trying. It was another to not even have the option of continuing after the severity of such a devastating injury.

He honestly hadn't even remembered how it had happened. One moment, he had been at the training grounds, taking a break and watching others spar together. The next, he was lying on his back, staring at the sky as the loudest ringing in his ears reverberated through his mind. He had felt nothing at the time. Hadn't even known there was an injury until he saw someone hovering above him, fear and horror etched onto their face as they told him over and over, "It's going to be okay."

Now, Lee wondered, if it ever would be "okay" again.

He had lied to Sakura earlier when he had said Guy-sensei had told him he could still be a force to be reckoned with. It had all been a ploy to get Sakura to stop feeling so bad. She had had no other choice after all. It was either amputate his legs, or let him slowly die from blood loss or infection. There hadn't even been much to amputate off from what he had hear. His kneecaps had been blown clean off, taking everything below it with it.

There had literally been no other choice. And that was what bothered him the most. He had been fated to be a horrible shinobi after all.

A few, fat tears leaked their way out of his eyes as Lee mourned the loss of his legs. He would never be able to walk, run, jump, kick, flip, climb, or even balance properly now that his legs were gone.

He had been putting on a show for everyone. Had been feeding their false idea that he was okay with losing his legs. That he was still confident that he could still make it as a shinobi in this world, but, truth be told, he had never felt so low in all of his life.

It was more or less an act. Autopilot mode, as he demonstrated to everyone that he could still build up his strength. That if he worked hard enough, he could be like Neji. That he could still be great.

But it was all a lie. A story. A story that he spun from tales of the past. Of his heroic recovery from the impossible when he was still just a child.

Lee wept in silence as he sunk into the ground, ignoring the pain in his legs (what legs? There weren't any there….) or how awkward it was to lean down.

His spirit had been utterly broken and destroyed.

He had no more youth left in him.

Having visited the barely living, Sakura made her way over to her final destination.

The dead.

There was no grave-site. There were no grave stones. There were no bodies. Only ashes and a small, gray column to signify that the dead had been placed here. The column sat in the middle of a bare, dusty patch of earth, open to all the harsh elements of the world. A clip board rested against the column with a long list on names of those that had been burned here.

The clip board was updated every three to four days. Each time, a new set of pages added to the already large stack. Each time, a hoard of shinobi and med nin would visit, scrambling to see if someone they knew or loved had had their name placed upon the numerous pages that were pinned to the piece of wood.

Picking it up, Sakura flipped to page 103, scanning it for the two names she had come to know so well in death, but not in life.

Tenten **Yūkan'na

Kiba Inuzuka

Though she had not been close friends with them, she had still cared for them. Tenten and her had become somewhat antiquated after the war had started. Tenten would sometimes help out in the makeshift hospital, cleaning wounds, assisting the weak, arranging numbers, and many other things that had helped it all function.

But then, she had been sent out to the front lines, along with Kiba, to help push back a hoard of Zetsu that had broken through the first line of defense.

They never made it back.

Kiba had, for some unknown reason, left behind Akamaru during the battle. He had been the one to find Kiba and Tenten's bodies, buried beneath a pile of various other Zetsu that they had taken out. Tenten had still had her grip on her kunai, as if she had fought till the very grim end. It looked like she had.

Even Kiba had had his face contorted in a nasty snarl, his teeth still bared, daring anyone to try and attack him or Tenten.

Sakura knew this because she had been part of the retrieval mission. She also knew that Akamaru had gone berserk when he saw Kiba's body, not letting anyone touch him or get close. They had eventually sedated him and Sakura had carried Kiba's body back to camp. When Akamaru had finally awoken, and hadn't found his master anywhere, he had slinked off, disappearing into the wild area surrounding them. The Inuzuka's had tried their best to find him, but when they did, it had been too late.

They had found Akamaru dead next to his masters ashes.

They burned him the next day as well.

Sakura would never forget the sight of them. Master and dog. Friends until the absolute, horrible end.

And, with that final thought, Sakura said a prayer. Not knowing who, or what she was even praying to, upset her. If there was a god, why would they let something like this to happen? Was it some sort of game to the immortal? See how quickly they could tear apart humanity?

After her prayer of useless hopes and thoughts, Sakura looked to the sky, cursing every deity there was out there. Hating them for what they had done to them all. Vowing to never again believe in something that there was no proof of.

Especially when it seemed to be the only ray hope in the midst of a war.

She'd set off around noon, accompanied by a squad of four other med nins and five Jounin. One for each med nin.

Sakura didn't really need protection. She was well equipped in the art of war. She could protect herself, but Tsunade could not be persuaded. Sakura had tried to reason with her, tried to make Tsunade understand that she knew how to choose her own battles, but Tsunade had not listened.

Instead, she had looked Sakura straight in the eye and said, "War is an auction for countries. For soldiers, it's a lottery, and I'd hate to see you lose it Sakura."

That had been hours ago.

Now, it was night, the darkened sky further blackened by smoke. Screams and war cries ripped through the air, the sound of paper bombs exploding leaving ringing in the ears of many. The air was hot and sticky, permanently stained with the scent of charred flesh and copper. The ground was unsteady, occasionally rocking with the force of jutsu upon jutsu being thrown across the battlefield. The constant feeling of death lingered in the air.

The sounds of the dying and the dead mingled. The last breath of shinobi leaving them as attack after attack shook the world, moans carrying far into the night; some even pleading for death to take them. The soft whispers of the dying could be heard as well, some greeting old friends and family, others apologizing for going the way they had.

Almost every shinobi Sakura had come across had asked but one thing. Not to be healed. Not to be saved. Not to be brought back from the depths of a fiery world. No. Only to be remembered by their family. By their friends. By someone. Anyone.

Because they had fought in a war and died for it, and the only way to make sure they could hope for a better day than the one they had, was to be remembered.

Soldiers were dreamers. Because when the fighting starts, and death comes knocking at their door, they dream of clean beds, warm homes, and the family they left behind.

*Gullian Barre Syndrome is a real disease that slowly paralyzes the victim. It affects the nerves, and since nerves control your body, it can tamper with bodily functions, such as movements and breathing. I am not a doctor, and I am so sorry if this has offended anyone in anyway. Although it is rare, I give out my condolences to anyone who has been affected by it, whether you are being treated for it or you are a friend or loved one of the patient.

**Since Tenten has never actually been given a last name, I thought it only fitting to give her the last name of Yūkan'na, since it means brave. Though she has never been a strong character, she has always been shown ready to go to battle.

These first few chapters are going to be build up to the actual 'Time Travel' moment, so sorry if it hasn't happened yet! I just really wanted to give my story some background and to do that, I wanted to showcase the war and the effects it's going to have on Sakura. Thank you for reading! Please review and let me know how I'm doing!