With Kurenai’s words still ringing in his ears, Suzuki’s entire focus shifted sharply towards the Chuunin Exams. He was in his room, hastily packing his scattered luggage, fully intending to return to Konoha as soon as possible. Despite all the unseen troubles waiting for him back in the village—troubles he’d rather not encounter—he knew it was time to move.

But just as he folded his last shirt, a sudden, soft weight slammed into his back.

"Suzuki-kun!"

Unlike her usual timid and stuttering self, Hinata was acting shockingly bold. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, locking him in a desperate, clinging embrace.

"Hinata?" He breathed, slightly caught off guard.

"I miss you," she mumbled.

Suzuki fell silent. Hinata buried her flushed face deeply into his back, basking in his familiar, comforting scent and the sturdy feel of his firm body. He could feel the rapid, frantic beating of her heart, accompanied by the undeniable, soft pressure of her developing curves yielding gently against his spine. It was a tantalizing friction that sent a sudden, electric jolt straight to his brain.

Even though this reckless act of hers might cause her to faint from sheer embarrassment—or deeply regret it the moment she regained her senses—she simply couldn’t help herself. It was their very first time being parted for so long. Every single day without him had been an agonizing eternity. Sure, they had exchanged a flurry of letters, but ink on paper could never replace the vivid reality of seeing him with her own eyes, inhaling his scent, and feeling the intoxicating, radiating heat of his body beneath her trembling hands.

She longed for every single aspect of him. So, when they were finally alone behind closed doors, her pent-up desires shattered her usual restraints, driving her to this uncharacteristically bold, clingy action she had never thought herself capable of performing.

"Me too. I miss you, Hinata," Suzuki replied, his voice a low, soothing rumble.

But did Suzuki truly miss Hinata?

If pressed for an honest answer, he definitely did. But he also carried a small, hidden weight of guilt. During his stay in this bustling town, he hadn’t exactly been lonely. He’d had quite a few captivating companions. His mind briefly flashed to the intoxicating scent of sake mixed with a mature woman’s perfume, the accidental, heart-stopping glimpses of heavy cleavage whenever a certain legendary Sannin leaned over a table, the tantalizing, soft friction of close quarters in crowded hotel rooms, and all other exchanges, which definitely couldn’t be said.

Fortunately, Suzuki’s acting skills were of the absolute top tier. Not a single trace of his slightly guilty, temptation-filled memories showed on his composed face.

But what can I really do right now? he thought, exhaling a quiet breath.

They were simply too young. Even if their mutual feelings were crystal clear, he knew the unspoken rules of this world. They had to wait for the Shippuden timeline to kick in before anything serious could happen. He knew perfectly well that with their current ages and standings, nothing physical could safely progress, nor did he intend to push boundaries—especially considering the wild, eye-opening experiences he’d secretly accumulated while away from Konoha.

These experiences of mine... He mentally locked those spicy memories of mature, voluptuous kunoichi away in a tightly sealed vault in his mind. He would keep everything buried in his heart, never uttering a word to anyone unless it became absolutely necessary.

"Really?" Hinata’s muffled voice broke through his thoughts.

"I do."

"How much?" she teased, her tone unexpectedly playful.

"More than you."

"I think... I miss you more," she countered softly.

Hinata slowly pulled back, and when Suzuki turned around, he was greeted by an angelic, overwhelmingly pure smile that made his chest tighten. Being so close, with her lavender eyes looking up at him through her dark lashes, there were countless things they wanted to talk about. But time was a luxury they didn’t have. They were in a desperate hurry to return to the Konoha.

The Chuunin Exams were looming over them. There was a mountain of preparation left to tackle: grueling combination training, intense strategy brainstorming, and refining their techniques so they could successfully pass and earn those coveted flak jackets.

The shinobi hierarchy was a brutal, unforgiving ladder. To climb it, one had to progress through distinct tiers: Genin (The grunt workers); Chuunin (The squad leaders); Tokubetsu Jounin (Special Jounin) (The highly specialized elites); Jounin (The pinnacle of regular military might); and Kage (The absolute peak).

As a side note, it was only a special individual who could ever dream of reaching the Kage seat. It didn’t merely require god-like strength; it demanded massive political influence, charisma, and administrative capabilities. Being the leader meant carrying the entire village’s lives on your back. Because of this steep requirement, most ordinary ninja never even reached the rank of full Jounin, maxing out at Special Jounin if they were lucky.

Why was the system rigged like that?

Suzuki wasn’t entirely sure of all the inner workings since he was currently just a Genin on paper. But if he had to formulate a theory, becoming a Jounin required intense political backing. You needed someone influential to sponsor your promotion. In short, Chuunin was the final stage where you could advance purely based on hard work, sweat, and blood.

Anything above that? It took far more than mere grit.

Suzuki firmly believed he possessed the sheer capability to be a Jounin. He wouldn’t mind the title, as it was the highest operational rank just below the Hokage. But if he truly wanted absolute security and a position of untouchable power, he needed to seize a vital sector within Konoha. He needed to become like an Elder, the perpetually useless Koharu Utatane and Mitokado Homura, who somehow wielded massive political influence despite doing absolutely nothing but sitting in chairs and breathing.

Alternatively, slipping into Danzo’s blood-stained shoes as the head of Root had its dark, twisted appeal.

Yes, it meant getting his hands dirty and touching the unspeakable, but it was an invisible power. He wouldn’t have to deal with the annoying, smiling public or handle tedious PR. Being feared from the shadows was honestly far more efficient than being loved in the light. Suzuki preferred living in absolute luxury and comfort over being a shining, target-painted leader.

Being the boogeyman that everyone actively avoided was simply the fastest shortcut to a peaceful, wealthy life. What if the masses avoided him? Perfect. He didn’t need a sprawling crowd of fake friends in his life. He only needed a select, elite few—the beautiful women and trusted allies he genuinely cared for.

"Well, I think it is impossible," Suzuki muttered out loud, breaking his own train of thought.

"What?" Hinata tilted her head, her soft hair brushing against her shoulders.

"Nothing."

Suzuki dismissed the thought. Taking over Root was a pipe dream; no one would ever allow a wild card like him to seize that much shadow authority. No, his best path was the one he had intended from the very beginning: to become ’Too Big To Fail.’ He would weave himself so deeply into the village’s economy and infrastructure that even if he did absolutely nothing, the village elites would be forced to protect him to save themselves.

"Let’s go back to Konoha," he said, gently placing a hand on Hinata’s head. But looking at her slightly flushed cheeks, he offered an out. "Or do you want to stay here in the room for a bit longer? You might be exhausted from the trip, after all."

"No, it’s fine," Hinata replied, her voice as soft and sweet as ever. "It is better for us to go back. And if you’re worried that we’re tired, don’t be. We rested plenty while waiting for you to finally wake up."

"..." Suzuki stood speechless.

Hinata giggled, a delightful sound that filled the room, clearly amused by his blank expression. "But, it’s really good that you have finally learned how to relax, Suzuki-kun."

"Have I?"

"Yeah. I have never, ever seen you this relaxed before."

"How was I before?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Er..." Hinata squinted her eyes and puffed out her cheeks, trying her absolute hardest to mimic Suzuki’s intense, brooding, serious face. But with her big eyes and naturally adorable features, she failed spectacularly. It was far too cute to be intimidating. "You always had this super serious expression. But now... your face looks like a tired office worker who finally hit the 5 P.M. clock. I think it is a wonderful thing."

"...I am not out here just to rest, you know."

"I know that," Hinata nodded, her gentle smile returning. "I always believe in you."

"..." Suzuki felt that twinge of guilt return.

Hinata had always known just how insanely hard-working he was. While other Genin trained until they bled, Suzuki trained until he hallucinated from sleep deprivation. His obsession with power and survival was so intense that absolutely no one could stop his momentum. But Hinata also grasped the harsh reality of the shinobi world, which was exactly why she supported his madness with every fiber of her being.

"That’s why you don’t have to worry," she reassured him, stepping slightly closer, her sweet scent washing over him again. "I am not tired. And I am not that weak little girl anymore."

"Okay, then."

Suzuki had always viewed Hinata as a fragile flower he needed to shelter—a younger, softer girl he had to take care of. But looking into her determined eyes now, he realized with a start that she was striving to stand side by side with him as an equal. It made him sigh inwardly, deeply touched by how incredibly precious this girl was.

"Then, Tsunade-sensei, Shizune-san, we will head back first."

It was finally time to say their goodbyes in the hotel lobby. Suzuki faced Tsunade and Shizune, his bags slung over his shoulders.

"Don’t worry," Suzuki added with a smirk, reaching into his pouch. "I brought you souvenirs, Kurenai-san. And you too, Shino."

"...that’s not what I was worried about, but thank you," Kurenai sighed, crossing her arms beneath her chest, which only served to emphasize her own alluring, mature figure. She had secretly wanted to stay in the town a little longer, but a true shinobi always prioritized the mission. She had accepted their abrupt departure, but seeing the high-end, clearly expensive souvenirs Suzuki handed over made her crimson eyes light up. She knew perfectly well that compared to her meager Jounin salary, Suzuki was practically a walking bourgeois aristocrat.

"Thank you," Shino muttered, adjusting the frame of his dark glasses. Though his face remained completely stoic, the slight upward twitch of his lips showed he was quite pleased.

"Thank you for your care over the past few weeks, Tsunade-sama, Shizune-san," Suzuki bowed politely. "I am leaving now, but if you ever entertain the thought of returning to Konoha... please let me know."

"Yeah."

Tsunade’s response was sharply clipped, cold, and dripping with an undeniable sour mood. She stood with her arms crossed, her massive assets straining against her top, her eyes averted. It was blatantly obvious she was in a terrible mood about his departure. Yet, it didn’t faze Suzuki; he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to soothe the tempestuous slug princess at this exact moment.

"Shizune-san, please take care of yourselves," he said, turning to the dark-haired assistant.

"Yes." Shizune bit her lower lip, her dark eyes swimming with unshed tears. She stepped forward and, completely abandoning her usual professional restraint, threw her arms around Suzuki in a surprisingly tight hug. The soft, generous swell of her chest pressed flush against him, her sweet, herbal scent enveloping his senses for a fleeting, dangerously tempting second. "Please take care of yourself too, okay?" she whispered, her voice trembling. She desperately wanted to pack her bags and go with him, to stand by his side, but her loyalty and duty chained her to Tsunade.

Bowing his head one final time, Suzuki turned his back on the town and initiated the long trek back to Konoha alongside Hinata, Shino, Yugao, and Kurenai.

Back at the hotel, Shizune stood near the entrance, watching his silhouette shrink until it vanished completely beyond the horizon.

Meanwhile, high up in her lavish hotel room, Tsunade stood by the window. She stared out at the winding road, spotting his back—now just a tiny, fading dot in the distance. She wasn’t surprised by his abrupt departure. She knew intimately just how fiercely he valued his time; wasting it on lingering, dramatic farewells just wasn’t in his nature.

She turned around, her amber eyes sweeping over the slightly rumpled bedsheets in the room, a faint, phantom trace of his presence still lingering in the air. A frustrating, undeniable heat pooled in her chest.

"...if you hadn’t come into my life..." she whispered to the empty room.

If Suzuki hadn’t crashed into her world with his schemes, his unnatural maturity, and that infuriatingly tempting smirk, would she be feeling this hollow ache right now?

Yet, he had entered her life. He had shaken her very foundation. And now, he had left to fight his own battles, leaving her alone with her thoughts and this lingering, foreign warmth.

Tsunade remained perfectly still for a long, agonizing minute. Her eyes hardened, the fiery resolve of a legendary Sannin reigniting in her gaze. She turned sharply toward the door.

"Shizune!" She barked, her commanding voice echoing through the suite. "Pack the bags. Let’s get prepared!"

---

As I have said before, for a week or so, okay?

Thank you, and I am sorry.

From your lovely author, Akikan40!