After returning from her first deployment, Sute got a week of rest before being shoved into the hospital for the next three months. They wanted to keep her out of the field until the Yellow Flash had moved on to a different area, and her skills luckily made her just as useful in Kiri as on the front lines. She had no complaints about the new assignment, hospitals were familiar ground in both this life and her last, and it kept her busy. She also got to use an actual training ground between shifts, giving her plenty of time to hone her combat skills even if alone.

Surprisingly, she made a new friend during this time. It happened one day a bit after lunch, when a jounin came in with a boy around her age. The other apprentice medics cleared out pretty fast for some reason, leaving Sute to take on the case alone.

"So you're here for his arm?" she asked, thoroughly unimpressed with her colleagues' swift departure. The jounin nodded, pushing his student forward.

"He injured his arm during training today." The boy stumbled at the small shove and swiveled his hair to scowl at his teacher.

"It's fine!" he protested. Sute remained unimpressed.

"Take off your shirt and show me," she ordered, and the boy scowled before removing the gray-colored garment so she could look. He grimaced as he started to tug on the arm, and Sute blinked as she heard the telltale sound of flesh ripping, prompting her to surge forward and grab his wrist. "Stop. What the hell kind of jutsu were you hit with?"

"A hot water jutsu," his teacher replied with a sigh. "He was supposed to dodge it, but he tried to block it with his arm instead."

"Yeah, well, I think you melted the fabric of his shirt to his skin," Sute informed him flatly. "Tone it down next time." Turning back to the boy, she looked him dead in the eye and he stiffened slightly. "I hope you have a high pain tolerance."

"What do you—GAH!" He screamed in alarm and pain as she suddenly ripped his sleeve off his arm, tearing off a slither of skin with it. As he grabbed the now-bleeding and skin-free section of exposed muscle he hissed through gritted teeth, "What the hell!?"

"Trust me, tearing it off suddenly is better than gradually," she said flatly, and sighed as she carefully pried his hand away from the exposed muscle. His chakra spiked in irritation, almost acidic and painful as it brushed against her, but she dutifully ignored it and smacked his head with her free hand. "Stop being a baby and let me look!"

The boy just stared at her bug-eyed but his volatile chakra simpered down and she ignored his gawking to wave a glowing green hand over his arm. Even as she examined it she could feel his skin and muscle knitting together on its own, the tears and rips mending swiftly and neatly. Her fingers flexed as she nearly jolted in surprise, able to detect the movement of every single sinew, but she steadily poured healing chakra into it to aid in speeding up the process.

"You heal fast," she commented once it finished, for lack of anything else to say. The boy had just shrugged and looked away, scratching absently at the newly formed layer of skin.

The next time Sute saw him, her shift had just been about to end when he'd come in with a twisted ankle. Which was a light way of describing his left foot being twisted over ninety degrees to the right. "Don't you know how to fall properly?" she grumbled, silently cursing her colleagues for suddenly clearing out again. "That's super basic."

"I was already falling and got hit by another blow from the opposite direction," he countered sullenly. She just rolled her eyes and carefully grabbed his ankle, her grip loose and ginger as she checked it.

"Is the fast healing a normal thing?" she asked even as minty-colored chakra began to seep from her hands.

"Yeah, I guess. Why—GRAH!" He screeched as she proceeded to twist his ankle back into its normal position, even his teacher wincing in sympathy at the loud crack. His chakra flared again, this time even more violent than the last, and Sute winced but continued to swiftly pump healing chakra into it. By the time she finished her palms hurt like hell and the boy just glared at her with tears in the corners of his eyes, but she carefully rubbed her hands on her medical apron as she looked at him.

"Stay off that ankle for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, meet me at training ground seven. If I'm going to be the only one who'll actually heal you," which seemed likely if her colleagues' behavior would follow the pattern she'd sensed, "then I am going to make sure you don't come in for something as basic as falling wrong."

She gave him no time to respond before turning and stalking away, hollering at one of the superior medics to let them know she was leaving. Only after she reached the safety of her home did she break into a run and race into the greenhouse, cursing loudly as she swiftly threw together a homemade ointment to rub on her burnt palms. Chakra burns were a new experience, and she ended up having to sleep with her hands doused in ointment and mummified in bandages to soothe the pain.

Surprisingly, the boy actually did show up the next day, along with his teacher. He still looked sour but he dutifully joined her in basic taijutsu drills, which she took some glee in goading him since normally she was the one on the receiving end of critique over bad form. After that they started training together more often on her off-days from the hospital, meeting a couple times a week until she finally got sent back to the front three months later. It hadn't been planned on her end, but she enjoyed having someone actually in her age bracket to train with for once.

"Why aren't you going to the front?" she asked quizzically the day before her departure.

"I need to focus on training," he replied with a shrug, and she snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Hell yeah you do," she muttered, and ignored his glare as she continued, "But seriously, we're in war and you're actually really good. It seems like a waste just holing you up in Kiri." He frowned at that, averting his gaze.

"It's... complicated. I'll tell you when you get back. Maybe. Assuming you don't run into the Yellow Flash again." She snorted again at the jab to her so-far most infamous war story and whacked his shoulder playfully.

"I'm holding you to your word on that, Utakata."

Sute's second deployment proved just as eventful as the first, and also just as monotonous. During her absence one of the Swordsmen, Munashi Jinpachi, had died and gotten replaced by an apprentice. He'd had a particularly strange and violent camaraderie with Kuriarare Kushimaru, not quite friendship but some sort of strange bond forged over their severe blood lust intense even among the bloodthirsty forces of Kiri. His death left the group a bit quieter and the mood slightly more somber.

Her reaction?

"Congratulations on outliving him, Juzo," she greeted flatly. Kisame had barked out sharp laughter at the bland comment, while Kushimaru had snarled and lobbed several kunai her direction outnumbered only by the colorful threats he spewed at her.

It didn't take long to settle back into the usual routine. Wage bloody war on the battlefield, pester her allies during downtime, and heal the mangled bodies of their enemies to advance her medical skills. Sute developed an intense interest in studying the effects of her comrades' unique fighting styles, even performing occasional autopsies. During this time she had a few interesting encounters with Kushimaru, whose sword Nuibari could easily be one of the more macabre blades wielded by the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen.

"It sews people together?" she asked, staring at a twitching mass of tangled bodies from afar with a tilted head. "Have you ever used it to stitch wounds?"

"That," he hissed, stabbing the end of the long, thin blade into the ground next to her, "would be an insult to it. Nuibari is for battle, not healing."

"It's like Army of One," Sute mused, only flinching slightly at his spike in killing intent at her implied insult.

"Arm-ee of One?" he repeated, the foreign words just slightly clumsy on his tongue as he leaned towards her. "What the hell's that?"

"It's a story by Junji Ito. Except, I guess Junji Ito doesn't exist here," she added thoughtfully. "That's too bad. He was my favorite horror mangaka. Army of One was about large groups of people disappearing and then turning up later dead with their bodies stitched together. Like, at Christmas their bodies were hung across trees like garlands."

Pausing, she tilted her head at the tangled mass of bodies and mused in English, "Yeah, it's just like Nuibari. I wonder if Kishi read it and got inspired by it."

"The only word I understood out of that was Nuibari," Kushimaru informed her blandly.

"I know," she replied with a sweet smile, and then hopped to her feet. "Okay, it's not moving now, I'm gonna do some autopsies." As she scampered off to go examine the now-still mass of bodies to examine the corpses Juzo appeared next to Kushimaru, shaking his head.

"I told you, there's something wrong with that kid," he muttered.

"You're just bitter because you're the only one she insists will die," Kushimaru sneered, and had been sorely disappointed when Juzo's violent reaction did not nearly compare to the violent outbursts Jinpachi had. Still, he did keep Sute's comments about the "Army of One" thing in mind, and she had been delighted to direct him when he asked in an attempt to recreate some of the scenes she remembered. Even their peers found the sight of dozens of mostly nude corpses strewn about trees like macabre human garlands a bit disturbing for their tastes, but Kushimaru felt very satisfied by it.

After that, one more notable event occurred with the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen.

It has been closer to the war's end. Sute's part of the platoon had separated from the Swordsmen briefly, and she in particular had broken apart from the main group to hang back and try to heal one of their teammates, a man named Chukichi. He'd been one of their more valuable members, a sensor whose ability exceeded even that of Ao, and losing him would have been a serious blow. It was made even worse by the fact he'd fallen to some sudden illness of all things; at least a battle wound would give him some sort of honor.

In the end she'd barely managed to stabilize his condition long enough for a reserve unit to rush him back to Kiri for urgent aid. Later on she'd find out he ultimately died from the sudden illness, but in the meantime she just turned and started trekking after her platoon to regroup alone. It had been on her way there that she came across the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen and a small group of enemies.

Faced with the fearsome Seven Shinobi Swordsmen, the trio of Leaf ninja visibly felt the cold, prickling tingle of utter terror pricking the back of their necks, sweat beading down their faces. Escape would be impossible, and the trio of teenagers obviously knew they couldn't possibly hope to face all seven at once. As they exchanged wary glances, likely acknowledging they wouldn't survive, Sute tilted her head and squinted at them.

"...Ah." Her voice seemed to jolt them and they swiveled their heads in alarm to stare at her, their eyes wide as their gazes locked onto the Kiri insignia around her waist. Sute paid their stares barely any mind, instead focusing on two of them in particular. All three felt vaguely familiar, but she found the green sleeveless leotard and the bandana/sunglasses combo pulling at her memories, and she lifted a hand to point at them in turn.

"You're... Gai, and... Ebisu?"

The two boys in question grew tense, their eyes narrowing sharply and standing on even higher alert than before. So she'd been right. She cast a glance at the third boy, who had a long, hooded jacket and a senbon in his mouth, and he tensed with visible apprehension. He also felt extremely familiar, especially the senbon chewing bit, but she didn't know his name off the top of his head. Either way, the only thing that mattered was that she recognized them all, which meant one thing.

Humming in thought, Sute leaped around them to land amongst the swordsmen, tilting her head to look up at one of them perched atop a higher branch. "You might die today Juzo," she declared flatly, and half the swordsmen broke into sharp peals of laughter as she took off at a run. The man she addressed just scowled as he turned to face the Konoha chuunin, his eyes flashing murderously.

Less than two minutes later Sute nearly slipped off a branch as she felt a sudden surge of energy from the direction she'd just come, the overwhelming power obvious even with her minimally-developed sensory abilities. Grabbing the tree trunk to steady herself, she squeezed her eyes shut and ground her teeth as she tried to center herself, her nails digging into the bark before she set off again. When she finally reached the rest of their platoon they'd bombarded her with questions, but she'd just shaken her head and curled up high in a tree.

Hours later, three familiar figures appeared at the camp, staggering through the trees with exhaustion and pain weighing upon their frames. "Hello, Juzo," she greeted quietly from her perch as he passed beneath her, and the Swordsman paused, his gaze slowly sliding up to her.

"I'm alive," he intoned flatly, his voice more hollow and tired than usual.

"There's still time," she responded blandly, but it came out quieter than every other jab she made. He'd said nothing, just continued to limp to the camp, and a minute later she jumped down to follow him to begin administering first aid.

The Seven Shinobi Swordsmen had been reduced to three, their unit felled by a lone man who had never risen above the rank of genin. When Sute heard the man's name for the first time she'd snorted just so slightly, amused by the horrible English pun hidden in "Maito Dai" and remembering the person who shared half that name. It seemed not even the ever-youthful Maito Gai was immune to having tragic backstories in this world.

There was one more person in her platoon worth noting, a woman with long black hair and dark eyes. She was beautiful by every definition of the word, her hair smooth and silky and her skin a perfect unblemished white. Whenever Sute stood next to her she felt frumpy and ugly, like a little swamp monster next to an angel. Her manner of speech tended to be brisk and short, not harsh but not really gentle either.

She didn't talk to people that much. She had a kekkei genkai, the hyoton—she could make ice form from thin air and manipulate it to her will. That alone made her stand out from the rest of the soldiers, their comrades eying her warily.

As the war raged and Kiri's imminent defeat became more apparent the tension in the platoon only rose, and a good chunk of it became directed at her. People, when faced with intense suffering, preferred to find someone to blame their suffering on, and blaming Konoha would be akin to admitting Leaf ninja were better than Mist ninja. No, shinobi had too much pride to admit weakness in any form.

So they blamed the people with kekkei genkai, who had been among their most active fighters. A sort of tension had always existed, with civilians fearing and shinobi envying their natural abilities, but as the war progressed it became more volatile. That woman happened to be the only one on their team with one.

It was subtle, but Sute could see the growing rift. No one approached her more than necessary, and she in turn kept her distance too. Even on the battlefield she remained separate, their comrades never once trying to aid her if she got overwhelmed. Sute watched from afar for the most part and said nothing. She never even learned the woman's name.

Towards the end of the war though, there was one battle when Sute got separated from the others. The woman had been the first to find her, and she'd found the young girl surrounded by a horde of stunned-looking Rock ninja just gaping at her, their bodies littered with large holes spilling blood at alarming rates. The woman took one look at the scene, and then silently flashed through a simple hand sequence and then sharp icicles erupted from the ground, impaling them through the pre-existing holes and adding some additional vital spots for a swift but brutal death.

When the rest of the team caught up, they took in the scene and said nothing, just dismissed it and continued to regard the woman warily.

A few days later Sute approached her, late at night when most of the others were asleep, a bingo book in hand. The woman had regarded her warily, and Sute just stopped at a safe distance and looked her dead in the eye.

"You should leave," she warned flatly, her voice soft to avoid carrying to the others. "The stigma's going to get worse. It won't be long until there's a genocide."

"How do you know?" the woman sneered, her lips pulling back in a small snarl. Rather than respond Sute carefully and deliberately opened the bingo book, flipping through the pages before extending it towards her.

"There's a reason people call me that," she told her bluntly. The woman eyed it for a moment before carefully taking it, skimming over the page before her gaze sharpened. Without a word she handed the book back, and Sute returned to her own section of the camp in silence.

A few days later the woman vanished after one particularly vicious battle, only a pool of blood left. While they never found her remains, they never really went looking for her either.

By the end of the Third Shinobi War, Sute had gained a spot in most Bingo Books with various monikers attached to crude drawings and blurry photos of her face: "Poison Apple," "Bloody Princess," and—most common of all—"The Mad Butcher." Her rank tended to vary from a C-class threat to A-rank, the other villages unable to accurately gauge her actual skill level due to her largely support-type roles on the battlefield. The only thing survivors could agree on was that she approached battle with a brutal tenacity rarely seen even in seasoned chuunin.

However, a small handful of ninja survived encounters with her largely intact. And among those people, another name began to spread. Wisps of whispered rumors leading to another moniker that floated around taverns and bars but never appeared in writing, save for a few hand-scribbled notations found in a select scattering of books carried by Leaf ninja:

The Bloody Oracle of Kiri.

Chapter six is out of the way! Utakata finally makes his grand entrance, and can I just say I love him? I've only written him a few times but his dynamic with Sute is great. Also, most of the Swordsmen are dead. Canon is starting to really take shape now.

So, an important note: Army of One is an actual thing. And if you're not at least 16 or are sensitive to horror imagery, do NOT look it up. The top search result is a drawing of mostly-nude two bodies stitched together. The first time I saw Nuibari in canon my mind went there, and I really do wonder if it Kishi read it and got inspiration. On that note, I recommend against searching for Junji Ito if you're sensitive to scary and graphic imagery. Junji Ito is by far my favorite horror mangaka, and his works are the reason I love horror manga. His stories can sometimes be silly or not even that scary, but the imagery is what makes it horrifying. He knows how to set the mood, and his artwork seriously gives me chills sometimes.

If you like horror (especially body horror), look up his stuff. (Fun fact: his most famous work to date is actually titled Uzumaki.) But just be aware, it's NOT safe for work or younger audiences. Seriously, I spent years reading horror manga to build up a tolerance just so I could read his stuff after finding a Wikipedia article on it. (Also, just read the manga and avoid the recent anime adaptation of his works. Based on the reviews I've seen, it doesn't do a good job at capturing the atmosphere, and also has some pretty iffy picks.)

Anyways, that's all for now. Thanks to all the lovely reviewers: xenocanaan (the "bloody" definitely works both ways), Elise142 (their meeting is coming up soon!), Thomas Drovin (Oh, her skills will be VERY in demand after the war ends…), KadeBear (sealing is definitely in the plans, also do you have the name of that fic? I want to see some more takes on fuinjutsu, canon doesn't give us enough), May525 (what can I say? Smut just doesn't appeal to me, or Sute either), Northchild, forgetfulFollower, angelicana1230 (interesting theory about the book. Also I'm always mindful of trigger warnings, one experience of unintentionally triggering someone is enough to decide never again. And this story will need it, Sute's past involves references to some pretty despicable acts), Mighty Empress, ElysiumPhoenix, MorteSangriz, Ritz-chan and spiritedfaraway!