My recovery was long and painful. I had surgeries every other day, and it was rare that the people conducting them actually told me what they were doing, even when I asked. No one was happy with me. The hospital staff resented having to go to such lengths for someone they thought got what was coming to them—this wasn't speculation or "mind reading," as they called it in therapy. I was told this explicitly by my attending nurse.

I was indignant and furious. Like, I know I fucked up! I know. But in what messed up world would any doctor say that to a…

Child. But I'm not a child. Between my two lives, I was thirty-six.

…something is seriously wrong with me. And I'm not just talking about my broken body. Some part of me had shattered long before the accident.

I had no shortage of time to think. To pick and pull apart each thread, each decision that brought me here. All of the verbal abuse over the past few days made finding where to begin child's play.

My rebirth was supposed to be a fresh start. My old name, my old family, my old accomplishments—I decided to leave it all behind me. They meant something, once upon a time, but not here. Not in Iwagakure.

But there was a category of memories I never attempted to distance myself from, that I never considered could be harmful. My memories of watching Naruto as a teenager on the grimy screen of my laptop. Memories of interacting with the fandom online, of coming up with my own "signature jutsu," of role playing alone because I was too much of a loser to admit I liked nerd shit, even to people with the same interests.

It all left me with strong opinions about what I should do, and how I should act as a transmigrant in this world. I had never called them into question, even though I should have long ago. For example, it was a given to me that I should keep quiet about my most advanced skills. Fuinjutsu especially.

That decision had most directly landed me in this hospital bed. If I hadn't been so worried about keeping my sealing proficiency hidden from Nyūdō, I could have learned about the hidden step, and this never would have happened. But nooooo. Couldn't let people think I was good at one of the most valuable skills in all of the Elemental Nations, because god forbid they pull me from field work so I can work a cushy job, safe in the village.

Wasn't that what I was working so hard towards in the Navy, back in my old world? To climb the ranks so I could eventually work in command, away from the action? Why was it any different here?

…because hehe chakra go burr. Because my monkey brain thought jutsu were cool. Because I was an attention whore. The list goes on, and the reasons didn't get any less embarrassing.

That was another example. Everything Yoshiro-sensei told me was common sense, but it clashed so strongly with my vision that it didn't so much as cross my mind. But as it turns out, I don't even know what true strength in the Elemental Nations looks like.

I needed to figure it out, and soon. This stopped being a game when I found people I loved in this world—there weren't many, but they existed. There were also plenty I respected, plenty that I didn't want to see die. If I could do something to help save their lives, even if it wasn't as direct as I wanted it to be, I should do it. There should be no question. I knew there should be no question.

I stared up at the ceiling. It was white and pitted, and there were several splotches of discoloration. Whether they were scrubbed splatters of blood or simply old spots of dampness, I had no way of knowing.

When I get out of here, I decided, I'm going to talk with Akane-obasan. I'm going to ask her to introduce me to Atsuchi.

It was all I could think of to get me back on the right track. I just pray the chance hasn't gone up in smoke alongside everything else.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

Between my identity crisis and my surgeries, my mind was well-occupied. Internal chakra control made me somewhat of an active participant in the healing process, and while I couldn't do anything major, I had the power and the finesse to stimulate my healing after each operation.

Then there was the matter of my chakra canals. Their once-smooth walls were pockmarked with microtears and lesions. They healed quickly on their own (perks of being in direct contact with the bulk of my body's chakra), but the process wasn't efficient or, at times, completely effective. At multiple points, more significant cuts healed incorrectly, leaving them knotted and misshapen. Also, some tenketsu were mangled, which was a big problem because it inhibited my ability to mold chakra at select points. The organs themselves would hopefully be healed with the mystic palm technique, but the connective ports between it and my canals were so twisted that they would stem the flow of chakra anyway.

If not for my advanced internal chakra manipulation abilities, I might have despaired. Instead, I did something I had never done intentionally before. I cut my own canals back open.

Immediately, I started to hemorrhage chakra (seriously bad, as it could lead to the creation of cancer-like growths as my body healed far too well). However, with a metaphorically firm hand, I used that chakra to bring the walls back together, holding the torn edges together until they healed.

It was…better. Not perfect, but better. Perhaps I'll come back to it later. But first, I'll turn my attention to the others.

I spent a great deal of my time meditating for healing purposes, as a means of compartmentalizing my pain, and out of sheer boredom. After nearly a week, some of my casts were taken off, and I was allowed to sit up and move my arms. Immediately, I asked Kazuhiro to bring me my medical texts.

There was some mention of one of the eight gates, which was tied to healing in some fashion. I couldn't remember the details, so I was eager to refresh my memory and possibly utilize that knowledge to boost my recovery, if I could.

Seimon, the Gate of Life, is located in front of the spinal cord, between the esophagus and the T3 Thoracic vertebra. As has been observed even centuries ago, those with developed chakra enjoy an increased rate of natural regeneration, and this trait is exacerbated in those with greater chakra reserves. The Seimon receives information from pain receptors in the brain and distributes the chakra inside of it to facilitate healing. Patients that experience a dysfunction in Seimon might report extreme fatigue, shortness of breath, shooting pain through the upper back and non-localized hemorrhaging.

Okay, that was incredibly vague. I flipped to another volume, trying to find some sort of explanation. It took a while, but I finally found something useful.

…it is clear, from these interactions alone, that the inner gates communicate with one another through chakra signals so slight that they are unnoticable, even to the keenest of sensors. These signals are passed through the primary set of chakra coils (that connected the gates most directly) and can influence each Gates' behavior. One example is the Keimon, which can signal for the reallocation and increased production of the chakra stored inside. Another is the Seimon, which contains a supply of stabilized, Yang-dominant chakra. In the case of extreme emergency, this chakra will be redistributed to the affected area, encased in a thin capsule of balanced chakra to prevent dilution. Yang chakra, which cannot be manipulated consciously by humans, is shown to be more effective at mending physical damage.

In essence, I surmised that my Gate of Life contained a special type of chakra, which had the ability to heal the human body much more rapidly than ordinary chakra. That was great news—only problem was, it would only release said chakra in the case of an "extreme emergency."

But how did the Gate know I was experiencing an extreme emergency? The first passage I found mentioned pain, which made sense. That was typically how the body signaled a malfunction of some kind.

Would it be possible for me to make myself feel an extreme amount of pain, without actually damaging my body? There should be. My first thought was genjutsu, but I had no idea how to perform them, and I kinda doubted it would work besides. There were times in the anime, I think, that people placed themselves under genjutsu, but it sounded difficult, and those people weren't me. I was already extremely sensitive to changes in my own chakra.

No, my gut told me that wasn't the way to go. I needed to really feel the pain. And the best way to do that, without setting my recovery back, was to go straight to the source.

I committed the page number to memory and returned to the first volume. In it were diagrams of all the major systems, including the one I was currently most interested in: the nervous system.

As a sailor in my previous life, I pinched the nerves in my back all the time. And that shit hurt. If I could do that on command, the pain might be sufficient to trick my gate.

My most recent surgery had been on my Humerus, which had finally been pieced back together completely. The last thing I wanted was to accidentally heal something that wasn't in order, and trap bone fragments in places that they shouldn't be. Using the diagram, I selected a nerve cluster.

It was truly fascinating and unsettling how densely packed the bodies of people in this world were. They had all the bones, muscles and organs of the people on Earth, plus extra. As a result, a person's chakra coils wrapped through all aforementioned parts like a vast network of vines.

Meaning, there was very little that wasn't touched, at least in part, by my chakra network. All it took was some internal pressure, firm and steady, and my canal bent unnaturally. Not by much, but it was enough.

Pain lanced through my arm, mild at first, but quickly growing to an unnatural intensity. Immediately, I lost control and it flopped back into its normal position. The pain faded almost instantly.

"Fuck," I whimpered, holding my spasming arm. That hurt like a bitch. But it didn't worsen my injuries. I mean, technically I couldn't be sure, but it wouldn't make sense for it to.

I tried again, and lost control before anything interesting could happen. After multiple attempts, I trained myself to withstand the pain, mostly by turning my attention inward, and focusing on my Gate of Life.

I was incredibly close to giving up—this shit was so painful that it almost wasn't worth it—but then I noticed something. The walls of my tenketsu began to flutter, and there was a bubble of chakra forming behind them. I tried to send my submarine through it, but my pulse couldn't penetrate. It was as if there was a solid stone forming within my gate.

Then the opening widened, and part of the bubble passed through. The gate closed almost immediately, cutting a small piece off, and it hovered for a moment like a globule of melted wax in a lava lamp. Then, the current swept it away, and I eagerly tracked its progress.

I was beyond impressed with this body. Each tenketsu it passed convulsed, changing its course so that it was on the correct path to my arm. Meanwhile, my gate was gearing up for a repeat performance. A second bubble was separated from the larger mass, and once that had been sent in its way, another followed.

The Yang chakra's arrival was anticlimactic. The bubbles popped, releasing its contents onto the surrounding areas, and that was it. I couldn't feel it in any way—though I was still pinching my nerve, so that admittedly may have drowned out any other noticeable sensation.

Even though I could sense it working, I couldn't stand to hold it for much longer. I released my hold, and did my best to massage the pain away from the inside and out. Still, my arm felt hot, and the spasming was uncontrollable. I leafed through the text for reassurance, studying nerve pain instead of chakra for once (in retrospect, something I should have done first). My paranoia was unfounded—a pinched nerve, if sustained for weeks, could cause permanent damage, but for such short periods of time I wouldn't face any long-term side effects. Plus, those cases were only ever documented in civilians with undeveloped chakra networks anyway, so I was reasonably confident I was in the clear. Still, only time would tell if all the pain was worth it.

Actually, that was a lie. Dr. Tsuneo would tell me if the pain was worth it.

"What did you do?" he asked, his voice heavy with an emotion that I couldn't place. It definitely wasn't positive, but it wasn't angry either.

"Sensei?" I donned my best confused expression.

"What. Did you. Do?"

"Did I mess up my arm?" I asked, dodging the question. "I've been trying really hard not to move it. Did I roll in my sleep?"

"No, as a matter of fact. Your arm has healed magnificently. Too magnificently. As if you didn't already know."

I didn't already know, as a matter of fact. But I was grateful for the confirmation. Three days had passed since I first began to manipulate my Gate of Life, and I had mustered the courage to repeat my self-treatment twice a day.

"I channeled chakra to the injured area," I told him, which wasn't technically a lie. "That's what they say to do, right?"

"I've treated more patients than people you've met in your entire life, child. I know what is normal and what is abnormal. This is abnormal. What did you do?"

He didn't wait for a reply. His hands glowed green once more, and his brow furrowed in intense concentration. I was banking on him not finding anything, but it seems that my efforts left a physiological trace after all.

"Acupuncture," he breathed. "You performed acupuncture on yourself…internally?"

I blinked in surprise. I suppose I did, actually, do that. Back on Earth, acupuncture was bogus, and originated as a means to regulate the flow of a person's…chakra.

That raised a lot of questions, and I wanted nothing more than to ask them. But I had learned from my conversation with Yoshiro-sensei to stay silent, and let others form their own opinions. Luckily, Dr. Tsuneo decided to answer some of them without prompt.

"Acupuncture has been historically used to direct chakra," he mused. "It's typically only used on civilian patients these days, who are incapable of utilizing their own chakra. I've never seen or heard of the utility in using it on ninja. So how…" he trailed off.

I wanted to continue lying. A deflection was already at the tip of my tongue—it was a reflex at this point. But…why? To what end? If this was something that could help others, what right did I have to keep it hidden?

"This is purely speculation," I said, because I didn't actually have proof. Without a doubt, more research should be done before applying this knowledge to anyone else. "And I'm not a medic-nin, of course. But perhaps that technique might be more effective if it caused more pain."

His eyes snapped down to mine. "The point of healing is to reduce pain. Why would I, a medic, want to inflict it?"

"Pain is how the body communicates to the mind that it is in desperate need of healing," I said steadily. "If the pain is intense enough, your brain might think that the damage is more life-threatening than it is, and react accordingly to fix the source of the pain. As a side note, I believe I read something somewhere about Yang-skewed chakra more effectively stimulating growth and healing?"

I broke eye contact, looking up towards the ceiling. "Again, that is pure speculation. Perhaps there is some other reason that I healed more quickly than normal."

He didn't respond, but his hands lit up green again, and he continued his examination with a furrowed brow. The room was silent for several more minutes, as we were both lost deep in thought.

I couldn't help but catastrophize. Did I make a mistake? Would there be consequences to my honesty?

No. If there was anything I could do to help the hospital, to help Dr. Tsuneo, then I needed to do it. After everything I've put them through, I owed them that much, and I owed it to my future comrades.

"Sensei?" the word fell out unbidden, with a tremble of unsurety.

"Yes?"

"No one seems to care how sorry I am."

What can I do to fix this?

"Talk is cheap," he said shortly, still concentrating. "My staff have lost sleep, chakra and time treating you. All of those are precious commodities for a medic-nin. There's nothing you can say to make them resent you any less."

His hands lost their glow and he stood up straight.

"There is only one thing you can do to earn their forgiveness. Become someone, later in life, that they can be proud to have saved."

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

As the days passed, my procedures grew less frequent, and I fell into a pseudo rhythm. I spent the bulk of my time chakra mapping or reading, but once every day, I would have what I privately referred to as a flash flood. That entailed picking a region to focus my healing on (there were no shortage of options), taking into account urgency and the recency of the medic nin's final treatment, and locating a major nerve cluster at its center. Then, I would pinch it for as long as I could stand, and let me tell you, my pain tolerance was growing astronomically. What began as a measly ten minutes gradually lengthened into fifteen, then thirty, and eventually it began to approach an hour, though the nerves grew numb around then, and I couldn't be sure it was actually helpful after that point.

I found it was more effective to commit to a specific area, rather than to split my sessions among multiple points, despite the attractiveness of that option. The frequency of Yang bubbles released from my Gate of Life increased exponentially the longer my pain lasted, until they formed a nearly constant stream.

Unfortunately, performing multiple, hour-long sessions in a day was out of the question, even if I could stomach the pain. My Gate of Life was not an endless supply of chakra—far from it. And I knew that letting it dip below a third of its capacity would be a bad idea.

It was hard to accurately time how long it took for my Gate to refill because the variables kept changing. First of all, the capacity of my gate overall was increasing due to continued use, and the duration of my sessions were lengthening as well, though it had just recently plateaued. I estimated that, currently, it took around a day and a half to refill completely, which was a problem if I wanted to have daily sessions.

So I had to find a way to refill my chakra faster, and I only had one way to do that. I had to raise my tide, which meant I needed food. Lots of it. It took a second to work up the courage to ask Dr. Tsueno, but to my surprise, he agreed immediately. I gathered he wanted to study me.

Whatever the reason, the extra food allowed me to increase my reserves which, by extension, lowered the time it took for me to fill up my gate. However, my approach was unsustainable. Food was only part of the equation. To truly produce physical energy—Yang chakra—I needed exercise. Something I couldn't really manage whilst in a hospital bed. Essentially, I was in a race against time and my own body. If I could heal enough to be cleared for exercise, then I could continue abusing my technique and fully mend much sooner. However, if I couldn't heal in time, and I continued drawing upon deficient chakra, then I would contract a form of chakra poisoning.

But who needs multiple baskets? My eggs are happy where they are.

I was interrupted from my scheming by a knock on my door, which opened without waiting for my response. It was my nurse, accompanied by a man I had never met. He was incredibly gaunt, with sunken cheekbones that looked quite out of place on his otherwise toned body.

His other defining feature was his hair, which stood straight up in massive spikes. Though it was a normal shade of brown, I would count this as the first real instance of anime hair I'd seen in this world, and it wasn't even gelled. I could see no trace of product.

I looked back up at the nurse questioningly, and was surprised to see nerves plainly visible on her face. That probably wasn't a good sign—during my entire stay in the hospital, I had only ever seen her display annoyance, and a sense of self-assuredness held by people who were good at their job and knew it. I was pretty sure it would take a lot to make her feel wary in her own domain.

"Imai Kasaiki," she introduced shortly, bowing her head and retreating quickly.

The man was silent, surveying me with a deep frown. I didn't wish to speak first; in chess, I preferred to play black too.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked finally, and not like a snobby celebrity or rich kid who'd been slighted. His words were soft and dangerous.

"No, sir. I apologize, I do not."

"I am Bakuhatsu Gari, head of the Explosion Corp."

Yeah, he was a big shot. I knew little about the Explosion Corp, but they were one of Iwagakure's special units, akin to Suna's Puppet Brigade or Kumo's now rouge Kinkaku Force. They played a huge role in the village's founding, and as such its members had a great deal of status.

"You, Imai-san, have caused me a lot of trouble these past weeks."

Fuck. Oh, this really wasn't good.

"Mōshiwake gozaimasen deshita," I said for the millionth time this week, mind whirling. "It was not my intention to cause anyone trouble."

"No, I doubt you intended to put yourself in this state," he said, coldly. "Nonetheless, you did, undoing years of my own effort, wasting my monetary investments and squandering powerful favors I have been accumulating in the process. I can't accurately articulate how…displeased I am with you."

My heart had been steadily sinking, but now it plummeted. In Iwa, pissing off the wrong person could literally be a death sentence. They could use their influence to put me on missions with a low chance of survivability, or they could assign me to special groups that would more indirectly put my life at risk. This was definitely one of those people. And I had made him my enemy.

"Is there anything I can do to make up for my mistake?" I asked. "I'll do whatever you ask."

"The damage you made is irreparable," he said. "This last war has left me short staffed, as many of my clansmen have perished. To maintain our effectiveness, we need more people, and those people need to be armed with explosive tags. I was well on my way to opening up the process to the masses, until your little stunt. Now, not only am I being personally held responsible for the near death of a child, but the legislature I've worked so hard to pass is being called into question. Already, my selection committees are being put under stricter oversight, and the rate of acceptances has slowed to a trickle."

He stepped forward, looming over me. "I need those tags, and I will get them. If others cannot supply them, then you will. It's the least you can do to make up for your incompetence. You will not speak of this arrangement to anyone, and you will not fail to fulfill your quota. If you disobey me, you will not like the consequences. Nor will your brother."

The room felt even colder. Was this an empty threat? Would he be able to go after Kazuhiro once he was a jonin? I didn't know, and that scared me.

But more so than that, it made me furious. I took responsibility for my actions, but that didn't mean I would let anyone bully the people that I loved.

Bakuhatsu Gari would regret this. But I wasn't powerful enough to do anything about it. Not yet. For now, I'd have to play his game.

"I understand," I said as blood rushed through my ears.

"Good. I will send for you once you are discharged. Remember, not a word to anyone."

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

Gari's threat lingered in my brain like a particularly aggravating splinter. He said he wanted me to make him exploding tags, but I doubted that would be all there was to it.

Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do. The fact that he wanted me to keep our arrangement secret led me to believe that others wouldn't necessarily approve, but we weren't on a level playing field. If I were to disobey him and blab, he might be inconvenienced, but in turn, he would utterly destroy me.

For now, I was powerless. All I could do was focus on recovery. And focus I fucking did.

A couple days later, the pulverized bits of my skeleton were either forced back into place or extracted, and several more days after that, Dr. Tsuneo sentenced me to physical therapy.

Chakra really was something. If something this terrible happened in my original world, I probably never would have recovered fully at all, much less in this short period of time.

Still, PT sucked. It was incredibly demoralizing to be unable to do basic tasks, things that mere weeks ago would have been trivial. And it didn't help that the rehabilitation exercises had been designed for adults, or at least older children. Definitely not four-year-olds.

"With the damage to your bones, we must avoid any exercises that involve you impacting solid objects," the trainer said, a bit uncomfortably. "That includes running, and most cardio. Usually, we'd utilize resistance bands, but your limbs are so short, the bands would have to be too close to your joints. I'm afraid I'm not sure how to effectively treat you."

This was not the first, second or third time I'd been in physical therapy. I was incredibly active and fairly accident-prone in my last life. And I'd received this treatment in my old world, where we didn't have chakra. With no supernatural forces to rely on, we had to learn how to do things the hard way, which required more research and innovation than people in this world could be bothered to devote time to.

I hummed, pretending to think. "If we need resistance, why not use water resistance?"

My trainer, Tanabe Tatsumi, was a friendly young man, probably not yet in his twenties, with peach-colored hair. He was the first person I met at the hospital who was actually sympathetic to me, which already elevated him in my eyes.

"Water resistance?" he repeated with a frown.

"Yeah, like swimming. I have to exert force against the water, you know? And I wouldn't actually be impacting something solid, so it would be easier on my bones, right?"

"That's…actually brilliant," he breathed. "How did you come up with that? And do you even know how to swim?"

"Both questions have the same answer, actually. I got permission to use Lake Magatta under the mountains to train, around a year ago. I learned to swim there, and I remember it being pretty exhausting. I was just thinking about it, so it was already on my mind."

"Huh. Well, Imai-chan, I think that's a fantastic idea. Let me just get clearance to take you out of the facility."

It took a bit more than that, actually. Tatsumi came back soon after, telling me that, while Dr. Tsuneo had given me permission, the training ground had to be booked in advance. Tatsumi wasn't actually a ninja, but Dr. Tsuneo was a jonin, and he reserved the lake every day, for whatever block each day was available. It wasn't an incredibly popular training ground, so there was little issue on his end.

I couldn't have been happier with the arrangement. I should have blown myself up ages ago. Just kidding, haha…unless…

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

AN: Well, here's the final piece. The last gate who's process I have to explain in detail. With that, I think all the background knowledge for this fic is in place. Kasaiki's abilities later on will be derived from these building blocks I've developed now.