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After returning to Kirigakure, Midorima didn't continue his training. Instead, he headed straight to the medical division.
The main reason was that after more than three weeks of intensive training, he had hit a bottleneck. Against the Third Mizukage in his frenzied state, Midorima had not only managed to protect himself but also found opportunities to counterattack—even driving the Third away.
Just based on that alone, even Kisame Hoshigaki might not have been able to pull it off.
Secondly, training required a sparring partner, didn't it?
If he went all out against Zabuza, he risked exposing his true abilities, especially with the ever-watchful eyes of the villainous Igawa lurking nearby.
But if he held back, the training would be meaningless.
Might as well just spend the next couple of days in the medical division and let time pass.
When Shimomura saw Midorima, he was delighted and immediately called him into the lab, giving his muscles an approving squeeze.
"How did it go?" Shimomura asked with a smile.
"Not bad," Midorima replied vaguely.
Shimomura's expression darkened instantly. "'Not bad' isn't an answer."
"Well… I should at least make it into the top 24," Midorima said conservatively.
Shimomura's expression softened. "That's decent. Honestly, you didn't need to come. You should rest—the opening ceremony is the day after tomorrow."
Originally, he had been quite confident in Midorima. After all, not just anyone could join the medical division and still complete two S-rank missions.
But after calming down and carefully reviewing the list of participants, he realized he had been overly optimistic.
Kisame Hoshigaki, Zabuza Momochi, Mei Terumī, Ameyuri Ringo…
Just listing a few names made it clear that there were more than three powerhouses.
Standing out among them would be incredibly difficult.
"No, I should help out. I'm still part of the medical division," Midorima said, confident that he could hold his own against these opponents—assuming Igawa didn't interfere.
Then again, rather than standing out too much, it might be better to lay low and grow steadily.
Otherwise, being targeted would make it impossible to go far.
"By the way, is the medical division so busy because of the tournament preparations?" Midorima asked.
"Exactly. A hundred fighters, all of them strong—you can imagine how brutal the matches will be. Even the winners will likely be injured," Shimomura said, rubbing his temples with a headache.
Midorima's lips twitched.
There were already few medical ninja to begin with. Facing a large-scale influx of injuries, the medical division's workload would be unimaginable.
"The medical division might be even busier than the participants," Midorima said with a bitter smile.
"But for us, this might also be a chance to test our capabilities," Shimomura mused, rubbing his neck. "In wartime, the medical division faces the greatest pressure. If we can't even handle a village tournament, then our effectiveness on the battlefield would be severely limited."
Midorima paused, then realized Shimomura had a point.
The medical division's enemy was illness and injury. The larger the battle, the heavier their burden.
If a Fourth Great Ninja War were to break out, even combining the medical divisions of all five major villages might not be enough to handle it.
"When the time comes, I'll help out too—" Midorima thumped his chest.
"Get the hell out!" Shimomura kicked him straight out of the office.
Rubbing his sore backside, Midorima sighed. There was no reasoning with the old man.
---
ANBU Training Grounds.
Igawa was overseeing a training session when an ANBU operative suddenly appeared at the edge of the field.
"So, Midorima Asachi is back?" Igawa crossed his arms, not even glancing at the ANBU.
"Yes," the operative replied, kneeling on one knee, not daring to raise his head.
Last time, he had been assigned to tail Midorima but lost track of him after he entered the Hōzuki compound. Too afraid to admit his failure, he had lied to Igawa.
As a result, Igawa had ordered the ANBU to surveil the Hōzuki residence for an entire month—only for Midorima to reappear without a trace.
If Igawa ever found out the truth, his head would probably end up as a chamber pot.
"Where did he pop up from?" Igawa asked coldly.
The ANBU shook his head.
How the hell could he tell the truth? He valued his life.
"Don't tell me he wasn't even at the Hōzuki compound?" Igawa suddenly asked.
The ANBU's face paled, and he immediately dropped to his knees.
Igawa glanced back at him, the corner of his lips curling slightly. "What's wrong?"
"Sir, I—I messed up!" The ANBU trembled violently.
So the problem was with you!
Igawa clenched his fists, glaring at the operative before taking a deep breath to suppress his fury.
He hadn't yet secured the position of ANBU Commander. Now wasn't the time to act recklessly.
"Haruhisa, since he was training outside the village, go find his training grounds. He couldn't have trained alone—someone must have helped him. Find that person!" Igawa's anger burned hotter, his nails digging into his palms.
What a perfect opportunity to eliminate Midorima in secret—ruined by this idiot.
If not for his backup plan, he would have lost his mind.
Thinking of that plan, Igawa finally calmed down, a faint smile appearing on his lips.
The tournament bracket wouldn't be announced until the day of the event, but thanks to his position, Igawa had already seen it in advance.
He was particularly satisfied with Midorima's opponent—Akamatsu, an ANBU operative who had completed six S-rank missions, with strength comparable to Igawa Tai.
Akamatsu killing Midorima should have been a foregone conclusion.
"Sir, is something troubling you?" The ninja he had been training stopped and turned to Igawa.
"Akamatsu, your opponent has appeared," Igawa said.
"Really?" Akamatsu's eyes lit up, a vicious grin spreading across his face. "That's wonderful."
No, it's not! Not at all!
Igawa's expression darkened. "You seem quite pleased."
"Of course!" Akamatsu's face twisted with malice. "Sir, you've said it yourself—he's the person you despise the most. For an enemy like that, letting him die quietly would be too merciful."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"Torture. Make him scream and beg in front of five thousand spectators. Humiliate him, break him—then kill him in the most brutal way possible." Akamatsu chuckled. "Only then… will his death have meaning."
Igawa's mood instantly improved, and he regarded Akamatsu with newfound approval.
"You're that confident?"
"Him? A mere medical ninja. Even if he completed two S-rank missions, it was only because his team carried him. But the tournament is one-on-one. Who's going to help him now?" Akamatsu raised a single finger. "One minute. That's all I need to kill him."
Igawa was satisfied with Akamatsu's confidence but not the timeframe.
"One minute? Too short. Make it five. I don't want him to die so easily. I want to watch him suffer—slowly." Igawa gritted his teeth, his voice dripping with venomous hatred.