The civil servant of light at Konoha's gates

By noon the next day, Konoha's gates finally came into view.

From afar, they could see the two massive wooden doors, the enormous spiral symbols on them, and the faint figures of guards at the entrance.

The ranks grew visibly restless, their steps considerably lighter. Their whispers brimmed with irrepressible excitement and eagerness to get home.

Shuo remained the same as ever, not even changing his pace. Looking at the approaching gates, he felt little excitement. Instead, he began wondering: What should I do first back in the village? Report in? Collect my reward? Or go straight home and lie down?

Hmm, reporting in and collecting the reward don't seem optional... what a pain.

He made his plans. He would slip away as soon as he finished reporting in and go home to sleep. As for Minato's offer to "come take a look at his squad"... that could wait a few days.

The unit stopped some distance from the gates for one final, brief formation check and identity verification.

The Chunin handling verification held a roster. When he read out "Uchiha Saku," he specifically looked up at him, a hint of scrutiny in his eyes, but said nothing more.

With verification complete, the unit finally moved again, passing through the gates that symbolized safety and a place to return to.

The moment they entered Konoha, the atmosphere changed completely. The oppressive weight of war gave way to the familiar bustle of everyday life.

Quite a few villagers had gathered spontaneously along the streets, especially families with relatives in this unit. They stood on tiptoe to look, bursting into cheers and tears when they spotted familiar figures.

More were ordinary villagers, watching the returning ninja with respect, curiosity, and a trace of relief at having survived the disaster.

Shuo followed the unit down the main road, his gaze passing over the shops and homes on either side, and the four familiar faces on Hokage Rock in the distance.

Everything felt both strange and familiar.

Fragments of the original owner's memories surfaced here and there: the dumpling shop he frequented, the location of the training grounds, the direction of the Uchiha Clan Compound's rather solemn gates...

He did not look around, simply watching the way ahead calmly, with no particular expression on his face, in contrast to some companions whose eyes reddened despite themselves or who puffed out their chests.

It was as though he had merely returned from buying something, rather than escaped with his life from a battlefield of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

[Currently in the "returning to an everyday environment" state. Beginner's Laziness effects undergoing adaptive adjustment... current environment: "noncombat," "low pressure." Demeanor compatibility slightly increased.]

Nice. Hassle-free mode switched on automatically.

The unit did not disperse, instead proceeding straight to the square outside the Hokage Building, where the clerical team and some senior officials were already waiting.

There was a brief, formulaic speech and a reading of the commendation list (Shuo heard his own name; his early warning and promotion to Chunin had earned him a not particularly generous bonus and contribution points), followed by arrangements for the wounded and an explanation of compensation procedures for the fallen...

Shuo stood in the ranks, listening drowsily.

The sunshine made him lethargic, and the ceremonial speeches were long and devoid of substance.

He quietly shifted his weight to make standing less effort, his gaze beginning to go blank.

[Maintaining the "mentally wandering off during a formal occasion" state. Imitation Points +1.]

At last, the order to dismiss came.

The crowd dispersed with a buzz. Ninja who knew one another called out as they left, while the wounded were picked up by companions or family. Shuo stood alone, looking at the small money pouch and stamped document he had just received, then at the rapidly emptying square.

All right, off the clock.

He gave a middling yawn, tucked the money pouch inside his clothes and the document into his Ninja Tool Pouch, got his bearings, and ambled leisurely toward the Uchiha Clan Compound in his memories.

The Uchiha Clan Compound lay on Konoha's outskirts, near the training grounds by the mountain behind the village.

The streets grew quieter, and the architecture became more orderly and traditional, carrying that particular Uchiha Clan flavor of... well, reserve with a hint of exclusiveness.

Most clanspeople he passed wore clothes bearing the clan's fan crest, their expressions hurried, stern, or indifferent.

At the sight of this unfamiliar, travel-worn clansman in a Chunin Vest, most gave him scrutinizing, puzzled looks. Few offered a greeting.

Shuo did not mind. Following the original owner's hazy memories, he turned into a relatively secluded alley and walked to a small, rather old-looking detached house at its end.

The porch was a little worn, but fairly clean.

This was the original owner's home, an inheritance left by his parents.

He took out the key-he had kept it on him all along-and unlocked the door.

The door creaked open, and a faint smell of dust greeted him.

The furnishings were simple and a little sparse, but all the basic amenities were there. Sunlight streamed through the windows, revealing tiny motes floating in the air.

Finally, somewhere I can completely lounge around.

Shuo shut the door, casually tossed his luggage into the entryway, and, too lazy to clean, went straight into the living room and threw himself onto an old sofa that looked reasonably sturdy.

The sofa groaned under the burden.

He let out a long breath and closed his eyes.

Physical exhaustion washed over him together with the relaxation of being back "home."

He lay there for an unknown length of time, only reluctantly getting up when his stomach began to growl.

A look through the kitchen revealed that the food supplies were long gone, though the water, electricity, and gas were still connected.

He washed his face, looking in the mirror at his reasonably handsome but weary face and the black hair sticking up untidily from neglect.

"Need to get something to eat..." he muttered, feeling the freshly issued bonus inside his clothes.

Go out to a restaurant? That could work. But I can't be bothered to walk far.

In the end, he bought the most ordinary rice balls and ingredients for miso soup from a small shop on a nearby corner, returned, and made do with a simply heated meal.

Only while eating did he finally have time to examine his system properly.

[Host: Uchiha Saku]

[Status: Minor injuries healed, mildly fatigued, in a safe zone]

[Current Imitation Points: 168/100]

[Available unlocks:]

[1. Ability Advancement: Yata Mirror Hypothesis (requires 200 points)-locked.]

[2. Skill Expansion: Light Shuriken (prototype) (requires 180 points)-attaches faint light energy to thrown weapons, slightly increasing speed and penetration, with an accompanying blinding flash (chance-based).]

[3. Physique Enhancement: Light Energy Affinity (beginner) (requires 250 points)-slightly increases maximum light energy and natural recovery speed.]

168 points. Not enough for any of them. Still quite a way off.

Looks like slacking off in the village will slow down my Imitation Point gains.

After all, there aren't so many life-or-death crises or extreme cases of "forced overtime" anymore.

I'll have to think of something else.

He finished eating, washed the dishes, and slumped back onto the sofa.

Outside, the sky gradually darkened. Konoha's evening lights came on, and the bustle of the night market drifted faintly from afar. The Uchiha Clan Compound, however, was very quiet.

He opened the system instructions and carefully studied the scope of what qualified as "imitation."

Words and actions, demeanor, fighting style, convictions... how can I maximize efficiency in a safe environment?

Maybe... I should carry "laziness" into every detail of daily life? Fully integrate Kizaru's civil-servant mindset of indifference toward everything and concern only for his own comfort?

As he pondered, a rhythmic knocking suddenly sounded at the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

Shuo frowned. Who would come at this hour? I shouldn't have many acquaintances in Konoha, much less any connections within the Uchiha Clan.

He slowly got up and went to the door. Rather than opening it immediately, he first asked, "Who is it?"

A boy's voice came from outside, sounding slightly young but trying hard to adopt a serious tone. "Is Senior Uchiha Saku here? I'm Uchiha Inabi, a reserve member of the clan's police force. On Captain Fugaku's orders, I'm notifying all clanspeople who recently returned from the front to assemble at the compound's Meeting Hall at nine tomorrow morning. There are important matters to communicate."

Fugaku? The Uchiha Clan Head? An assembly?

Shuo clicked his tongue inwardly.

Trouble's here already. I only just got back to the village, and my seat isn't even warm yet.

He opened the door.

Outside stood a boy of about twelve or thirteen in the dark, high-collared clothes common among the Uchiha, his hair standing up like a hedgehog's spines. His expression was utterly serious, and he studied Shuo with the pride particular to Uchiha of his age, along with a trace of curiosity.

"Got it."

Shuo nodded, showing neither much enthusiasm nor any resistance, just indifference. "Nine tomorrow, Meeting Hall. Anything else?"

His overly flat reaction left Uchiha Inabi momentarily stunned. The words he had prepared seemed to serve no purpose, and he answered instinctively, "N-no. Please make sure you're on time."

After speaking, he looked at Shuo again, seemingly hoping to discern something from his face, but Shuo was already preparing to shut the door.

"All right, thanks for coming all this way," Shuo said casually, about to close it.

"Wait!"

Inabi could not help speaking again, his tone probing. "Senior... are you the Senior Saku who earned merit on the battlefield and was promoted to Chunin? I heard you used a very unusual jutsu?"

Sure enough, word travels fast.

Shuo understood perfectly, but his face showed just the right amount of confusion and... a little impatience at being disturbed. "Unusual jutsu? Which one do you mean? Does throwing Kunai accurately count? Or running away fast?"

He yawned. "Sorry, I'm a little tired after just getting back. See you tomorrow."

Without waiting for another question, he shut the door.

There were a few seconds of silence outside before departing footsteps sounded.

Leaning against the door, Shuo listened to the footsteps fade and pursed his lips.

A Clan Meeting... important matters...

He could guess roughly what it would cover without even thinking.

Nothing beyond the Uchiha's sacrifices and achievements during the war, future arrangements within the clan, perhaps an emphasis on the "Sharingan" and strength, and... courting or scrutinizing peripheral clansmen like him who had "performed outstandingly."

A pain.

But not going would definitely be an even bigger pain.

He returned to the living room, slumped onto the sofa again, and stared at the ceiling.

The system panel appeared dimly before his eyes.

Imitation Points: 168.

Tomorrow... might be an "opportunity"?

At a Clan Meeting with that solemn, rigid atmosphere, full of the Uchiha's particular pride and repression...

What if I behaved... especially "inappropriately"?

The corner of Shuo's mouth tugged upward in an almost invisible curve.

Under the light, an extremely faint, nearly imperceptible golden gleam flickered through his half-lidded eyes.

[Host detected planning atypical behavioral simulation in a specific environment. Preliminary system evaluation: high risk, high reward (in terms of Imitation Points). Please proceed cautiously and remain mindful of the occasion.]

[Friendly reminder: Maintaining your persona is important, but avoiding being eliminated as an aberration is more important. Please observe the subtle boundary between "laziness" and "courting death."]

Shuo waved a hand at the air as though shooing away a nonexistent fly.

"I know, I know..."

"As for knowing where to draw the line..."

He rolled over to face the sofa's backrest, his voice gradually fading, thick with fatigue:

"I'll try my best... probably."

Outside the window, night had fully descended over Konoha.