Chapter 56: Just Like Coming Home
After all, this was Konoha's highest-level confidential facility. Each ninja was summoned individually, at staggered times, to ensure secrecy. Those chosen for final research were handpicked—so it wasn't surprising that none of them expected to see familiar faces upon arrival.
But still… what were the odds?
After going through farewells, confessions, and long heartfelt conversations, to now realize they were all from the same division—it was almost absurd. The air grew thick with awkwardness.
Even the usually stoic Kakashi looked uncertain, unsure whether to maintain his distance or attempt civility. Should he keep up his cold attitude? Offer a handshake? Or perhaps… just wait for better weather?
"Well, I just lost myself on the road of life…" Minato said helplessly, scratching his head.
"I see. That's rough—for a six-year-old," Kushina muttered with mock sympathy.
"…."
A cold wind swept between them, as the three stood in a triangle, silently glaring at one another.
Fortunately, the tension didn't last long—because something far more awkward arrived.
"…Orochimaru?"
"…Tsunade?"
The Legendary Sannin froze mid-step, meeting each other's eyes from opposite sides of the corridor.
Minato, Kushina, and Kakashi collectively sighed in relief—at least the attention had shifted.
Tsunade and Orochimaru, on the other hand, looked as if they'd rather be anywhere else. It was unclear what kind of private conversation they'd had before, but both wore expressions that could curdle milk.
And when the door of the laboratory opened and the figure of Aizen appeared, smiling warmly, their expressions turned downright grim.
"Ah, good, you're all here," Aizen said, adjusting his glasses as if nothing were amiss. "Now we can finally begin."
The five ninjas—each with vastly different temperaments and emotions—fell into uneasy silence.
"Welcome, everyone. Kakashi-kun, Minato-kun, Kushina-san, Tsunade-senpai, and Orochimaru-senpai," Aizen greeted smoothly. "If there are no objections, please come in. The briefing and team assignments will begin shortly."
The five exchanged glances, their thoughts a mixture of confusion, resignation, and mild dread—but no one dared question him. Without protest, they followed Aizen into the depths of the Konoha Ninjutsu Research Institute.
The building itself was massive, with long corridors and reinforced walls. Its design was both ancient and intricate, suggesting it had been built at least a decade ago—its original purpose now long forgotten.
Even the two Sannin, Tsunade and Orochimaru, who were once the Hokage's own disciples, had never seen this place before. They could only trail behind Aizen, their sharp eyes scanning every corner.
The deeper they went, the more elaborate the security became. Layers of seals and barriers covered the walls, while silent guards stood watch in shadowed corners. Some of the personnel wore standard Konoha flak jackets—but others donned immaculate white haori.
Tsunade's brow furrowed, unease flashing in her golden eyes. She recognized that kind of order, that kind of presence. And she didn't like it.
When they finally reached the great hall, Aizen pushed open a pair of heavy iron doors. Inside, dozens of ninjas turned their heads at once. Some wore the uniform of Konoha's elite, while others—those in the white haori—stood out like a separate class altogether.
Tsunade's stomach turned. She didn't want to see this. She didn't want to acknowledge that something this organized, this powerful, had taken root inside her village.
Orochimaru, however, merely smiled faintly. His golden eyes scanned the crowd with fascination, quietly noting each recognizable face.
Soon, Aizen stepped up onto a podium. The light glinted off his glasses as he laid out several neatly folded white robes, along with small badges engraved with a ringed cross.
"As members of Konoha's newly established Ninjutsu Research Institute, you will each be assigned your own unit and identification insignia," Aizen began, his calm voice resonating through the hall. "Should you lose them, please contact the Anbu for verification. Replacements will be issued within a week. During that time, you must comply with all requests from Anbu or Executive Division officers. Failure to do so may result in… unpleasant consequences."
His tone was gentle, but no one missed the quiet weight beneath it.
"This facility is filled with traps and surveillance points. Your badges and white robes serve as your only proof of identity. Those whose names are called will come forward to receive them. Afterward, please form up according to your assigned research divisions."
He paused, letting the silence settle before continuing:
"I am Aizen, director of the Ninjutsu Research Institute and head of chakra theory management. I oversee the organization and approval of all research data. Implementation, however, is not my duty."
He turned a page from the clipboard in his hand, continuing smoothly:
"Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, serves as the Institute's Honorary Director and chief supervisor of all research operations. His guidance determines the future direction of Konoha's ninjutsu development."
"Shimura Danzo, elder of the village, is Deputy Director and head of the Executive Department. He will oversee the application and field testing of newly developed techniques."
"Among them, Lord Hokage and Elder Shimura are unable to attend due to certain circumstances. I will accept their robes and badges on their behalf and hand them to the Anbu for delivery. Now then—let's begin the official distribution."
Aizen's calm voice echoed throughout the hall as he began reading from his list.
"Hatake Kakashi — Leader of the Kinetic and Blut Vene Research Team, and member of the Chakra Theory Division."
"Namikaze Minato — Leader of the Space-Time Ninjutsu Research Team, responsible for both theory and application."
"Uzumaki Kushina — Leader of the Sealing Technique Research Team, also overseeing both theoretical and practical development."
"Orochimaru — Leader of the Chakra Activation Research Team, and member of the Chakra Theory Division."
"Tsunade — Deputy Leader of the Chakra Activation Research Team, Leader of the Medical Ninjutsu Research Division, and member of the Chakra Theory Group."
"Yakushi Nono — Member of the Chakra Activation Research Team, Deputy Leader of the Medical Ninjutsu Research Division."
"Uchiha Fugaku — Leader of the Sharingan Research Team, and member of the Chakra Theory Group."
"Hyuga Hiashi — Leader of the Byakugan Research Team, Deputy Leader of the Control and Observation Division."
"Hyuga Hizashi — Deputy Head of the Byakugan Research Team, Head of the Control and Observation Group."
"…."
Every name that followed was one Konoha knew well.
Some were heirs of great clans, some were independent geniuses, and others were trusted specialists or field veterans. Some wore white haori; others, the familiar green Konoha vest. Each one stepped forward, received their robe and insignia from Aizen's steady hands, then took their place in the hall.
From the podium, Orochimaru and Tsunade exchanged complex glances. The way Aizen greeted each recipient with a calm smile—like a teacher handing out honors to his pupils—made the two Sannin feel an indescribable discomfort.
Compared to the innocent awkwardness of Minato, Kushina, and Kakashi earlier, the situation between these two Legendary Sannin was much heavier.
They, of all people, understood what this meant.
We've joined something we can't fully control.
Tsunade's heart sank as she looked at the emblems glinting under the lights. So this is what it feels like to become part of a dream that isn't yours.
Orochimaru's expression, meanwhile, was unreadable—somewhere between fascination and cynicism.
I once thought about defying Konoha's traditions. Now it seems the system itself has evolved beyond recognition.
Tsunade's thoughts grew chaotic.
I joined a secret project thinking I was rebelling… but it's officially sanctioned now? What could possibly be more humiliating than that?
Everywhere she looked, there were familiar faces—friends, comrades, former students. It was as if the roots of Konoha itself had spread beneath the ground, silently merging into something else.
Was this still her village? Or had it already changed into something she no longer recognized?
If Konoha's roots absorbed nutrients to make the great tree flourish, then Aizen's presence was like termites gnawing from within—hollowing it out, unseen, yet unstoppable. And yet, from the outside, the tree still looked perfect.
As Tsunade brushed her fingers against the emblem pinned to her chest, her golden eyes flickered with doubt. You've already gone this far… why not let us keep dreaming? Why wake us up now?
Aizen, meanwhile, continued the roll call efficiently, his tone composed but unwavering. When the final name was read, he set down the list and stepped forward, his voice carrying effortlessly across the hall.
"You are all Konoha's most elite shinobi—its finest minds. Otherwise, you wouldn't be standing here."
His gaze swept across the room, sharp yet calm.
"Like you, I have ideals, people I respect, and emotions that drive me. But my goals may differ from those of others. I am not satisfied with the illusion of peace. I seek truth—the truth behind this world."
He adjusted his glasses, and the reflection briefly masked his eyes.
"Why has this world become one where killing is routine? Why can't the Will of Fire, the spirit of kindness, truly reach people's hearts through chakra? Why have we lived in endless cycles of bloodshed for generations?"
"I want to uncover that logic. I want to understand why. And beyond that… I want to ascend. I want to see what lies above this reality. I hope that all of you, even if only out of pretense, can grasp the significance of what we are about to do."
The hall was silent.
Even the Sannin, who once led battlefields drenched in blood, found themselves listening.
Aizen's words carried a strange weight—not fiery passion, but cold conviction. His calm, resonant tone felt like the distant rumble of thunder echoing through the chamber.
No one dared interrupt him.
Whether they respected him, feared him, or simply couldn't look away, every shinobi in the room stared at the man in the white coat on the podium.
"We are not working for one village, nor for one nation," Aizen continued. "Our purpose transcends borders. We act for the future of the shinobi world itself."
His voice deepened, echoing through the circular hall.
"We will seek truth. We will carve new paths. We will redefine the meaning of existence in this world."
"We will uncover its laws—not merely to understand why it exists, but to question how it should exist."
"Do not say it's impossible. No one knows what tomorrow's child may become. Even the son of a beggar can grow to change history. If we have the courage to step forward into the unknown, then this world will have no equal to oppose us."
He paused—then smiled faintly.
"That is what I expect of you all."
(And I hope you do not disappoint me.)
Below the podium, rows of white-clad shinobi stood silently, the insignias on their chests gleaming faintly under the sterile light.
For the first time, Konoha's elite didn't look like soldiers.
They looked like disciples.
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