After Suguru donated a scroll, it was time for the Hokage to do the same.
—Rustle.
Hiruzen rose from his chair and walked behind his desk, retrieving a sealed scroll. Unfurling it with a practiced motion, he dipped his brush into ink and wrote in calligraphy strokes that were swift yet precise.
Kakashi watched, his single eye narrowed with interest, as Hiruzen inscribed an official decree of reinstatement.
"Here," Hiruzen said, laying the scroll on the desk.
"I'll be giving you the rank of Jounin, as well as a spot in Konohagakure's Anbu." He paused, letting the words sink in before adding,
"You'll report to the Anbu headquarters tomorrow morning. There, you will receive a mask and the opportunity to choose your squad. A shadow awaits you," Hiruzen said with a ghost of a smile, "as does much work to do."
Suguru accepted the scroll, tucking it away in a secure pocket within his gear. It felt strangely good to hold official recognition once again, a tangible symbol of his reintegration into Konoha. However, his expression, as always, remained impassive.
He looked into Hiruzen's eyes and tilted his head. The way he did so screamed a very obvious question.
Hiruzen could guess what Suguru wanted.
"…And your personal laboratory?" Hiruzen confirmed, reading Suguru's unspoken question.
—Blink. Blink.
Upon seeing Suguru's unwavering stare, indicative of his correct guess, Hiruzen nodded.
"You can have your old space back. It appears sufficiently remote for your pursuits. I have already secured the necessary funding and personnel to allow for expansion and research support."
Suguru's lips curled into a hint of a smile, "That is most considerate, Hokage-sama."
"However," Hiruzen said, his voice growing serious, "Your skills are not only valuable for research."
"Let's see… the upcoming Chuunin exams will require an individual of your caliber to serve as a proctor. I trust your objectivity, Suguru. Your presence will ensure fairness and, if needed, swift and decisive action."
"Hm?" The mention of proctoring sparked a flicker of curiosity in Suguru's eyes.
"What do you say?" Hiruzen smiled.
What a twist of fate, no?
Naruto and Sasuke, the two main characters of the original and his older upperclassmen in the Academy, were now going to take their Chuunin Exams under him.
'I wonder how they would feel when they see me?' Suguru almost cackled in delight.
"I accept."
* * *
Watching Suguru leave through the door, Hiruzen shook his head in resignation.
'He's changed a lot.'
Recalling the days when the boy barely spoke, opting instead to convey his thoughts through head tilts and stares, the Suguru of today felt like a normal being.
…Apart from the well-kept madness, of course.
"Haha," the old man let out a chuckle.
In a way, Hiruzen was proud of the kid who was barely a 1/6th of his age. From research to combat capabilities, it was a terrifying notion to see someone grow up so fast.
It was indeed like watching a more malevolent and mischievous version of Uchiha Itachi.
Meanwhile, Suguru adjusted the leaf headband around his forehead, a wry smile playing on his lips as he surveyed his reflection in a random window.
It felt strange, this resurgence of normalcy. Was it a facade, an act for the rest of the village?
Combing through the loose strands of his long silver hair behind his ear, he began flickering past rooftops, disappearing with nay a sound. When he stopped, he had already reappeared in his old, decommissioned lab.
He silently surveyed the once-cluttered space, now eerily silent.
The air was shaken with dust after he started lifting the various seals, one by one. False walls dissolved, banished to reveal passages leading to a storage room and a white lab coat hanging from a hook.
He inhaled deeply, relishing the chemical scents that barely lingered. These familiar smells were a balm to his recent restlessness.
—Rumble.
Eventually, the last barrier crumbled, unveiling a pristine central chamber.
Suguru flicked a switch, and artificial light flickered into their bright yet lifeless existence, illuminating the intricate diagrams etched on a massive worktable.
They were remnants of his studies into his personal Kinjutsu, Living Corpse Assimilation.
Sighing, Suguru sank into a plush chair, a sense of calm washing over him.
His thoughts drifted toward faraway concepts: space-time ninjutsu. Teleportation, like Namikaze Minato's Flying Thunder God, made travelling brutally efficient, but… Suguru wanted more. He yearned for techniques that bent space, not just a flash-step for traversal.
"Hmmm," humming as he began to fantasize.
'Spatial pockets would be useful. Discrete storage stashes, hidden within the fabric of reality itself. And what about time rooms, pocket dimensions where time flowed differently..?'
Suguru chuckled.
It was a long shot. Mastery of such advanced jutsu would take years, maybe even a decade. He'd have to tailor his understanding of Fuinjutsu, delve into the knowledge of physical space and abstract time, and the manipulation of chakra itself.
A tantalizing, albeit distant, prospect.
After all, this was not in his current realm of expertise.
'I'll have to finish what I currently have at the moment and only work on these things when I have enough chakra to rival an actual Tailed Beast.'
That way, Suguru could allot some more clones to the study of such topics without hindering the progress of his original intentions.
"…"
—Yawn~
Suguru then realized that his eyelids felt like lead.
Within the confines of a place he had once called home, his mind slowed to a lazy float. The flickering lights of his lab cast dancing shadows in a hypnotic rhythm that soothed his senses.
He let his head sink back into the plush chair as he closed his eyes.
The familiar scent of chemical reagents mingled with the dusty scent of old parchment and filled his nostrils. It was the smell of a lot of half-finished tasks.
Nevertheless, Suguru surrendered to the pull of exhaustion. Everything began to fade.
He was safe here.
His mind fully quieted, replaced by the gentle thrumming of his own heartbeat.
"Hah~" A sigh escaped his lips as his body sank deeper into the padded chair, muscles unclenching with each passing breath.
He hadn't allowed himself this much rest in months, maniacally progressing through his techniques and technologies.
Out of nowhere, a memory surfaced, a pale flicker of warmth: a loved one's hand on his shoulder, a soft smile crinkling the corners of their kind eyes.
The scent of rain on earth, the joyous cacophony of cicadas on a summer night, the comforting weight of his fur-lined boots against the muddy ground.
A life more distant than the past.
After this recollection, Suguru fell into a deep slumber.