Capítulo 148: C148
The aftermath of the battle left a haunting stillness over the camp. Haruto stood amidst the carnage, his heart heavy, but the adrenaline from the fight still coursing through him. He looked toward the shack where the women had been kept, their bodies trembling, barely clothed, huddled in the corner like broken shadows of what they had once been.
He couldn't just leave them like that.
Haruto signed silently to Sakumo, seeking permission to help. Can I help them? he signed.
Sakumo gave a subtle nod, understanding without needing to say a word. His approval was all Haruto needed. Quietly, he moved toward the women, careful not to make any sudden movements that might startle them. As he approached, his eyes swept the shack. The women, four of them, were all in a terrible state—clothes torn, bodies bruised, their faces gaunt from fear and malnutrition.
They were of different ages. The youngest seemed to be no older than eighteen, her wide eyes filled with horror and distrust. The oldest was maybe in her late twenties, her face lined with premature age, the weight of trauma heavy in her eyes. Two others, likely in their early twenties, sat between them, all of them curled up defensively.
Haruto felt a pang of guilt. He had saved them, yes, but could he really call this freedom? They were still trapped by what had been done to them.
He spoke softly, introducing himself. "My name is Haruto Takeda," he began, his voice calm and reassuring. "I'm a ninja from Konoha, and I'm a medical-nin. I can treat your wounds, but only if you allow me to."
The women didn't respond at first. They stared at him, their eyes hollow, as though they couldn't quite believe they were free. Haruto waited patiently, making no move forward. It had to be their choice.
The oldest woman glanced at the others, her lips trembling before she gave a slight nod. "Please… help us."
It was all the permission he needed. Haruto moved carefully, gathering what supplies he had and some extra clothes he found among the bandits' belongings. They were rough and dirty, but they were better than nothing. He handed the clothes to the women and began his work.
One by one, he treated their wounds with medical ninjutsu, his Chakra Scalpel glowing faintly as he repaired torn skin, soothed bruises, and eased their physical pain. The process was slow, but Haruto didn't rush. His movements were precise, methodical, and above all, gentle. He knew this wasn't just about healing their bodies—this was about giving them some small measure of comfort, of control over their own lives again.
As he worked, the women remained quiet. They had no words left. The horrors they had endured had stolen their voices, leaving only the barest shadows of who they once were. But as he finished, there was a glimmer of something—gratitude, maybe—in their eyes.
When he was done, he stood up and gave them space, allowing them to dress in the rough clothes. There was nothing more he could offer them here, but at least they were safe, for now.
Before leaving the camp, Sakumo addressed the team. "Look for anything useful," he said, his voice low. "Intel suggests this gang was responsible for moving goods to the fence. All three groups we've exterminated were working together. There might be something worth recovering."
The ninjas searched through the bandits' possessions, finding stolen goods—trinkets, money, and other valuables meant for black-market sales. Haruto collected what he could, though his mind remained on the women.
Once they had secured everything, the team led the women to the closest village. It wasn't far, but the walk was slow, the weight of the mission heavy on all of them. When they finally reached the village, Haruto's chest tightened as they left the women there. The world was cruel, and they could only do so much. They had saved them from one nightmare, but they were still left to navigate the harshness of the world on their own.
That night, the camp was quiet. Haruto sat on his watch, the fire crackling faintly in the background. He stared into the darkness, replaying the events of the day in his mind. The kills, the women, the rage he had felt—it all circled back, weighing him down.
A soft shuffle behind him broke his focus. Shisui Uchiha sat down next to him, his presence calm but firm. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the crackling fire filling the silence.
"You did good today," Shisui said, his voice quiet but sincere. "Those women… they're alive because of you."
Haruto didn't respond immediately. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He had killed the bandits, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't done enough.
Shisui seemed to sense Haruto's unease. "The world we live in is cruel," he continued. "We can't change that. But what we can do is protect those who can't protect themselves. That's what we did today. That's what being a shinobi is about."
Haruto glanced at Shisui, his eyes searching the Uchiha's face. Shisui wasn't much older than him, but there was a quiet wisdom in his words, a depth that came from experience beyond his years. It was then that Haruto realized that Shisui had been through his own share of darkness, his own battles with the harsh realities of the world.
"You've seen a lot, haven't you?" Haruto asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Shisui gave a small, almost sad smile. "More than I'd like. But that's what drives me." He paused, staring into the fire. "One day, I want to bring peace to this world. Real peace. A world where people like those women don't have to suffer. Where kids like us don't have to fight."
Haruto didn't know what to say to that. He admired Shisui's dream, but part of him wondered if such a world was even possible. Still, there was something about Shisui's determination, his conviction, that made Haruto want to believe it could be true.
"You think we can really do that?" Haruto asked, his skepticism evident in his tone.
Shisui looked at him, his eyes filled with an unshakable resolve. "I have to believe we can. Otherwise, what are we fighting for?"
The two sat in silence for a while longer, the fire crackling softly between them. Haruto felt a sense of calm settle over him. He wasn't sure what the future held, but sitting here, with Shisui, he felt a little less alone in his doubts, his fears.
As the night wore on, Haruto couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, there was more to being a shinobi than just fighting. Maybe, like Shisui, he could find something greater to fight for.
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