“I’d like to sign up.”
Aoba went straight to Araki to pick up an application form.
Araki-sensei was taken aback.
He hadn’t expected Aoba to have any interest in medical ninjutsu.
Largely thanks to Tsunade of the Legendary Sannin, who was idolized by countless kunoichi, the vast majority of medical ninja were female.
“This course isn’t open to just anyone,” Araki warned.
“You’ll have to pass a rigorous theoretical screening and a chakra control test.
Only those who make the cut will get into the experimental class for specialized training.”
“That won’t be an issue, Sensei.
My theory marks have always been top-tier, and when it comes to chakra control, I know a trick or two.”
Aoba spouted complete nonsense with a straight face.
“A shinobi needs more than just the power to destroy; we need the benevolence to protect.
I want to use these hands to save my comrades, not merely to take lives.”
Moved by Aoba’s supposedly noble conviction, Araki handed over the application form.
“Huh?
Aoba, you’re applying for the experimental class too?”
Noticing Aoba filling out the form, Kurenai tilted her head in confusion.
“Aren’t you the type who hates hassle?
Medical ninjutsu means memorizing piles of books, not to mention dissecting frogs and rats.
It’s totally gross.”
“Kurenai, that’s where you’re wrong.”
Aoba pushed up his sunglasses and gave her the exact same righteous spiel he had just fed Araki.
Kurenai blinked her large, ruby-red eyes before giving him a look of sheer disdain.
Someone else might have bought that speech, but did he really think she didn’t know him?
There had to be something else going on—something fun he wasn’t telling her.
After mulling it over for a second, she dashed off to ask Araki for an application form as well.
Getting a form was much easier for Kurenai; the moment she asked, Araki handed one over without hesitation.
Watching her skip away with the paper, Aoba shook his head in exasperation.
*An academic slacker like her doesn’t stand a chance.*
The battlefield first-aid course was scheduled during the afternoon activity period, taught by a medical ninja who had recently rotated back from the front lines.
Obito watched Rin leave with a face full of reluctance, wishing he had signed up for the experimental class as well.
But when he saw that bastard Aoba walking off with them, his jealousy flared.
He stormed over to lodge a complaint with Araki, only to spend the rest of the afternoon getting scolded.
When the first lecture began, the classroom was packed to the brim.
Having arrived a bit late, Aoba and his group had no choice but to take seats in the back row.
Kurenai sat beside him, while Rin and Shizune took spots near the front.
A quick glance around revealed that most attendees were upperclassmen; there were only a handful of second-years.
The vast majority were girls, with boys making up less than a tenth of the room.
With so many girls gathered together, the chatter was louder than a bustling morning market.
“Quiet.”
The instructor stepped into the room.
She was a kunoichi in her thirties, clad in a white lab coat, her short hair giving her an air of sharp professionalism.
“My name is Hana Yamanaka.
Starting today, I will be overseeing your battlefield first-aid course.”
She introduced herself in a calm, measured voice that nevertheless commanded authority.
“First, let me share a harsh reality with you all: on the battlefield, the majority of shinobi do not die from enemy jutsu.
They die from excessive blood loss and infected wounds.”
The classroom fell dead silent.
“Therefore, mastering basic hemostasis, bandaging, and wound dressing is far more critical than learning some flashy ninjutsu.”
Hana scanned the room.
Seeing everyone listening with rapt attention, she gave a subtle nod of approval.
“Next, I will teach you the fundamentals of battlefield emergency care.
Whether you master these skills doesn’t just affect you—it will decide whether your future squadmates live or die.”
The lecture turned out to be far drier than Aoba had anticipated—or rather, brutally utilitarian.
It wasn’t quite reading straight from the manual, but it was unabashed cramming.
Massive waves of theory: human anatomy, wound classifications, techniques for staunching blood…
To most students, it sounded like gibberish.
They scrambled frantically to scribble notes, while others began dozing off midway through.
Aoba understood immediately: this was a screening filter.
A formal test was bound to follow.
There was no way all these students would be admitted into the experimental class.
After all, training a qualified medical ninja required immense resources.
Admitting this entire crowd wouldn’t just strain the budget—the higher-ups would never approve the funding.
Aoba followed along with ease, even finding the leisure to observe the others.
Shizune was listening intently; she clearly had some prior foundation.
Rin was having a rougher time, her pencil flying across the page as though trying to capture every single syllable the instructor uttered.
As for Kurenai…
Her eyelids were drooping, spirals practically spinning in her eyes.
*Sigh.*
Aoba decided to let her fail naturally when the time came.
He wouldn’t dream of helping her cheat—turning an incompetent student into a medic wasn’t just creating a quack; it was reckless endangerment of human life.
Fortunately, a reading list of medical texts was handed out at the end of class, encouraging them to study on their own rather than writing everyone off immediately.
Otherwise, taught at this pace, the pass rate would have been abysmal.
Even so, to the average student, the obscure chakra pathway diagrams and complex pharmacology were basically written in an alien tongue.
Now, it came down to who had the discipline to endure the grind.
As for Aoba?
Well, he had already read all those books.
He had previously digitized every single one into the bio-chip’s database.
All he had to do was pull the physical copies out of his storage to keep up appearances.
The screening exam was scheduled for one month later.
Compared to Shizune, Rin Nohara was noticeably on edge.
Aoba already knew that Rin would not only pass, but would eventually join Team Minato as their designated medical ninja.
Her aptitude for medical ninjutsu had been proven in the original story; successfully performing an ocular transplant on an active battlefield put her ahead of countless seasoned medics.
Aoba saw no need to meddle.
He went about his daily routine as usual, cool and unbothered.
Kurenai, ever the copycat, followed his lead and completely slacked off.
She treated every afternoon lecture as an extended naptime.
As the exam date drew nearer, Rin’s anxiety seemed to rub off on Shizune.
As their study sessions left them feeling increasingly out of their depth, the two girls finally sought out Aoba.
Aoba didn’t turn them away.
Not only did he answer their questions, but he also broke down the underlying logic with effortless clarity.
The more they listened, the more astounded they became.
They had always known Aoba ranked first in academic theory, but they never expected his mastery of medical knowledge to be so vast.
From then on, whenever they had a free moment, the two girls would drop by to consult Aoba.
Obito turned into a raging green monster of jealousy, constantly heaping silent curses upon Aoba’s head.
Aoba merely sneered.
Meanwhile, Kurenai took it upon herself to pummel Obito.
Determined to keep up appearances in front of Rin, Obito didn’t dare fight back, leaving him no choice but to scurry away with his hands over his head as Kurenai chased him around.
The day of the exam arrived in no time.
Unlike standard Academy assessments, this exam was split into two components: theory and practical application.
The theoretical section covered dozens of categories—human meridian anatomy, basic pharmacology, chakra nature differentiation, emergency hemostasis, and bandaging.
The sheer complexity and obscurity of the questions drove most students, who hadn’t even fully memorized basic ninja theory, to utter despair.
In truth, the instructor had subtly hinted at the actual exam questions during her lectures, but most students had been so overwhelmed trying to digest the material that they completely missed her offhand remarks.
Whether anyone else had caught those hints, Aoba couldn’t say, but he had picked up on every single one.
Before the test, he had even made sure to emphasize those exact points during his tutoring sessions with Shizune and Rin.
Once the exam ended, students gathered in anxious clusters outside the hall, comparing their answers.
Only Aoba and Kurenai remained utterly nonchalant—the former out of complete confidence in his abilities, and the latter because she had already resigned herself to defeat.