Horitake's orders sent the Hidden Corps to work—gathering firewood, digging up bones, bustling with tasks.
Autumn made finding firewood in the surrounding woods easy. Unearthing bones from the blood-soaked soil was straightforward, though gruesome and unsettling.
The Hidden cursed the demons while working.
Horitake, after a busy night, leaned against a tree to rest his eyes.
Unnoticed, Miri approached Shinobu.
Shinobu struggled with Miri's carefree demeanor, but Miri made a fitting request: "Um… Shinobu-sama."
"What is it?"
"Horitake-nii's shoulder was deeply cut by Kokushibo. He cauterized it with lightning to stop the bleeding, but it needs stitches. Could you help stitch it?"
"Of course, it's my duty."
Shinobu took a medical kit from a Hidden member.
Miri added: "Shinobu-sama, the wound's very deep. For better healing, could you add a few extra stitches?"
Shinobu's sly instincts kicked in. Something's off! She turned, locking eyes with Miri.
Miri met her gaze.
Shinobu smiled, a cunning glint: "Oh my, Kanroji-san, seems you're not entirely fine with Horitake's flirtations."
Miri smiled back: "What's Shinobu-sama saying? I'm just worried about Horitake-nii's wound, aren't I?"
"Of course, I'm worried about Horitake-san too. His wound needs extra stitches for us to rest easy."
"Exactly!"
With that, Shinobu, carrying the medical kit, and Miri approached Horitake.
Horitake, roused from rest, opened his eyes. Why are they together? Shinobu-neesan's smile is dangerous! Miri's smile matches hers!?
Trouble! He tried to stand, but Shinobu pinned him down, keeping him seated.
Horitake's scalp tingled, forcing a stiff smile: "Uh… shouldn't you two be directing the Hidden? What's up?"
Miri held his shoulders, Shinobu rummaged through the kit, both smiling: "Well, Horitake-nii's badly hurt, so I asked Shinobu-sama to stitch you up," Miri said.
"Just a few stitches. Won't hurt much or take long," Shinobu added.
Horitake instantly grasped their intent.
Disaster! But he couldn't refuse or flee. They were kindly treating him—running would look bad.
He had to endure.
With a strained smile, he glanced at Miri, then Shinobu, pleading: "Please… have mercy."
The women smiled silently.
"Please… go easy."
Still, silent smiles.
Horitake's heart sank, resigned to fate.
Shinobu gave Miri a look.
With uncanny synergy, Miri, using her eightfold muscle density, tore off Horitake's bloodied shirt, exposing his deep, gruesome wound—and his chiseled upper body.
Shinobu, used to treating wounds at the Butterfly Mansion, merely observed his physique with a smile.
Miri, a sheltered maiden, blushed furiously, head spinning. Yet curiosity won, stealing glances, heart racing.
Horitake, sitting, felt glum. You've seen me, but I haven't seen you. I'm at a loss.
Shinobu, unfazed, began treatment, inspecting the wound: "It's deep. The shoulder blade's half-cut but not severed—it'll heal slowly. Muscles and tissue are badly damaged, with many blood vessels severed. Good thing you cauterized it with lightning, or you'd have bled out. You're ruthless to yourself—burned it black to seal the blood."
Horitake grinned: "Only option. Lucky my lightning's handy, or—ow! Ugh… hiss… whew…"
He exhaled, trembling from pain, face paling as he glared at Shinobu's smile: "Shinobu-neesan, what was that?"
She waved a glass bottle: "Alcohol disinfection."
Horitake gaped at the nearly half-empty bottle: "You poured half a bottle for disinfection!?"
"Don't rush, Horitake-san. We're just starting, disinfecting bit by bit."
"Starting!? Bit by bit!?"
"Horitake-san…" Shinobu's smile bloomed: "Any complaints?"
"…None…"
"Good. Let's continue."
Shinobu meticulously disinfected with alcohol, bit by bit.
Horitake bit back cries, clinging to his manly pride! (What pride?)
Finally, Shinobu returned the alcohol bottle—half-empty—to the kit. Horitake nearly relaxed, but a sharp pain hit, accompanied by fizzing.
Shocked, he saw his wound foaming from an unknown liquid.
Clenching his teeth, he asked: "Shinobu-neesan, what's this!?"
She shook another bottle, smiling: "Hydrogen peroxide disinfection."
Horitake collapsed inwardly.
Hydrogen peroxide in this era!? Don't lie to me! (If I say it's invented, it's invented. You get a harem, but I can't vent for the readers?)
Shinobu, smiling, cleaned the wound with peroxide, using half the bottle.
Finally, stitching time arrived. Horitake, numb from pain, was beyond caring. Even if Shinobu embroidered his wound, he'd feel nothing.
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