It was evening.
The operating room door slowly opened.
Emiya Shihara emerged, his expression calm but carrying a hint of fatigue. His assistants followed silently, too awed and frightened to speak.
Judging by their tense expressions, it seemed no ordinary news was coming. Senju Hashirama and the others hesitated, unsure whether to stand.
"Senior!"
The young Sarutobi Hiruzen forced himself to his feet. Facing the unfamiliar medical ninja, he took the initiative to introduce himself. "I'm Sarutobi Hiruzen, son of Sasuke Sarutobi. Senior… how is my father?"
Emiya Shihara's eyebrows twitched slightly.
"Senior?" Hiruzen repeated nervously, a flicker of fear rising in his chest. Had something gone wrong? Could his father…
"It's fine."
Shihara waved his hand casually. "There were complications during the operation, but he survived."
"What… what?" Hiruzen's heart sank.
Complications? Ninjas often faced serious injuries during missions—some lifelong, some fatal. Could it be that his father…?
"Wait a moment," Shihara said, motioning him to hold on. "He's getting dressed now. You'll see him shortly."
"Getting dressed?" Hiruzen echoed, confusion clouding his mind. "No… what does that mean? My father was gravely injured—how could he even dress himself?"
Then, with a sudden bang, the operating room door flung open.
"Huh?"
Sarutobi Sasuke stepped out, perfectly fine, startling everyone—including his own son.
The Konoha ninjas who had gathered to help froze in disbelief.
"Are you… kidding?"
"In that condition… could he really be alive?"
"No… no way…"
Even those trained in battle could not comprehend it. A man severely injured by Fire Release Ninjutsu, near death, now stood before them without a single burn mark or bandage. His skin was flawless, as if the chaos of the morning had been a mere illusion.
Hashirama Senju rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Even with his faith in Shihara's skills, this was beyond expectation. During the Warring States Period, he had often seen Senju members fall victim to fire techniques. Yet here, Sasuke had been restored to perfect health.
Emiya Shihara remained calm, his face devoid of pride. The surgery was not inherently complex—what made it difficult was the courage, skill, and chakra required. Most of Konoha's medical ninjas lacked the experience or stamina to complete such a procedure. Only Shihara, with his extraordinary body and chakra reserves, could perform it with such precision.
"Thank you… for saving my life," Sasuke said sincerely, bowing slightly.
"Thank you, sir!" Hiruzen quickly added, echoing his father's gratitude.
"You can't just call him 'senpai,'" Sasuke scolded lightly, correcting his son. "It's disrespectful. Nor is 'sir' appropriate. Always call him 'Your Excellency.'"
Titles reflected status. Some might consider 'Sir' polite, but in this era, 'Your Excellency' carried honor. In Shihara's time, even without daimyo, his reputation eclipsed many rulers.
"Don't worry about it," Shihara said, unconcerned by the debate over titles. "Address is secondary."
Hiruzen, seeing his father safe, relaxed completely. The lively fourteen-year-old reverted to his playful nature, sticking out his tongue and making faces at his recovered father.
"Probably… yes," Shihara answered with a faint smile when Hiruzen asked his nickname. "Many probably think I'm foolish. They might have given me nicknames, but I doubt I'd know them all."
Sarutobi Sasuke patted his son on the head, smiling. "Anyone who disrespects him won't escape easily!"
This was more than gratitude for saving his life; it was respect for Shihara's mastery and the medical traditions he represented.
Even lying on the operating table, Sasuke had witnessed Shihara sharing knowledge, teaching Konoha's medical ninjas, leaving no doubt about his expertise.
"Indeed," Hashirama murmured, his face set with determination. Yet he could not resist pondering aloud, "We should give Emiya-dono a nickname that suits him, something fitting and memorable…"
Two ANBU quickly restrained him.
Shihara, unbothered, added a final caution to Sasuke: "During the operation, I accelerated the division and regeneration of certain tissues. It may also accelerate aging. You were lucky to survive."
Sasuke chuckled, accepting the remark. "Our clan tends to look old anyway."
Surviving this ordeal, whether against Uchiha Madara's hands or the near-death fire injuries, felt like an extraordinary stroke of fortune.
"We will always remember this kindness," Sasuke said earnestly, thanking Hashirama and the others. He tapped Hiruzen lightly on the head.
"Don't be disrespectful to Lord Emiya," he reminded his son.
Hiruzen, curious and energetic, observed the strange medical ninja with fascination. He had never seen such a figure in the village.
As the sun's evening glow streamed through the hospital corridor, a young boy arrived, anxious from the delayed news.
"Hey, Hiruzen!" he called, only to stop mid-sentence, stunned.
Sasuke walked behind Hiruzen, perfectly healthy and smiling.
The boy's expression shifted in disbelief. "Hiruzen… another prank of yours?"
Hiruzen hurried forward to stop his friend from misunderstanding. "You'll regret this!" he shouted, half in anger, half in relief, as his voice echoed down the corridor.
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