We stared at each other.
The air between us felt compressed, like the atmosphere right before a thunderstorm breaks. My muscles were coiled tight, chakra already flooding my pathways. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, my fingers twitching with the urge to form hand seals.
One breath. One wrong word. And I'd follow through on my promise.
Orochimaru's tongue slid out, wetting his lips. That manic grin stretched across his face. Then—
He leaned back against the glistening gums of the giant snake he was half-emerged from, looking for all the world like he was lounging in a hot spring rather than inside a reptile's mouth. Just like that. The tension dropped, not completely, but enough that I could breathe again.
"My, my," he hummed, the malice draining from his posture to be replaced by that insufferable, scientific curiosity. "Where does all that animosity come from, I wonder? We've barely been introduced properly."
"From the heart," I answered without hesitation. "Call it a gut feeling. I just really, really dislike your face. It's nothing personal. Well, actually, it is."
And it was. Oddly enough, this felt like the first real conversation we'd had. Everything before had been performance. Posturing. Chess moves disguised as small talk.
Orochimaru nodded slowly, like I'd confirmed something he'd suspected. "Ah. My former apprentice." His voice softened, taking on an almost wistful quality that made my skin crawl. "Though that alone hardly seems sufficient. I suppose she's still... vocal about her disappointments, but she wouldn't inspire this much hostility in someone who's never even met me during her tenure." His eyes narrowed slightly. "So what is it, Eishin-kun? What have I done to earn such... personal hatred?"
"She doesn't talk much about you," I shrugged, letting my lips curl into a smirk. "Just heard you're not exactly a pleasant fellow to be around."
"Is that so?" Orochimaru tilted his head, the smile never leaving his face. "And from whom did you hear such things?" He paused, letting the question linger. "The higher-ups, perhaps? Someone close to them?" His grin sharpened. "Would you like to know what I've heard from them? What they're planning for you?"
My brow furrowed.
Was Orochimaru's connection to Danzo really that strong? Did they share everything? Or did the snake have other sources feeding him information?
I worked my lip between my teeth, mind racing.
The bastard really knew where to push. What buttons to press. How to tempt someone with just the right bait dangled at just the right moment.
It should've pissed me off. Doubly so because Orochimaru was probably still stronger than me, even if he was playing nice.
But... was he?
I'd just tried to kill him. Sure, it could be framed as Orochimaru biting off more than he could chew, overconfidence leading to his downfall, but that wouldn't fool anyone with half a brain. What I'd done was no different than leading a blind man off a cliff or handing poison to a thirsty traveler.
I had tried to murder him.
And Orochimaru had done nothing in retaliation.
The paranoid voice in the back of my head whispered that he was just biding his time, plotting something in the shadows.
But wasn't that just proving my point?
You don't plot in the shadows against someone weak. You don't scheme and plan elaborate revenge against someone who's beneath you. You swat them like a fly and move on.
If Orochimaru was still talking to me, still trying to negotiate, still interested...
Then maybe I'd overstimulated him. No, I had been underestimating myself. The more I interacted with this snake, the more I realized that.
I wanted to smile.
So I did.
I wasn't just some Jounin anymore, now was I? I was the Kage Killer. I'd put Yagura in the ground, a jinchuriki. Orochimaru and his fellow Legendary Sannin…. what was their claim to fame, really? They survived Hanzo the Salamander. They didn't kill him. They didn't win. They got a participation trophy and a title because Hanzo felt generous that day.
We are not the same. I didn't get mercy. I took Kage's head.
The only other person who could boast of a similar achievement was Sasori of the Red Sand.
No wonder Orochimaru wanted me on his side.
I straightened my posture, lifting my chin to look down at him, even though he was physically elevated inside the snake.
"And you'd share this information out of the goodness of your heart? How charitable. Truly, the spirit of altruism is alive and well in you, Orochimaru."
Orochimaru's expression shifted into something almost regretful. Almost. "I admit, we may have started off on the wrong foot." He spread his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm willing to overlook certain... indiscretions. Consider this a fresh start. A chance to give our partnership another go."
Better than waking up in the hospital after killing the Mizukage and realizing I'd survived a fight against a Kage-level jinchuriki. Better than the high of knowing I'd actually won.
This stroked my ego in ways I didn't know it needed. Even a Legendary Sannin was willing to swallow his pride and work things out after being humiliated.
Indeed, I'd been underestimating myself too much.
I nodded magnanimously. "I'm willing to admit we both could've handled things better. Bygones and all that." I paused, letting my smirk widen. "So what do you want in exchange for this information? Since you've proven yourself... inadequate for the Meigetsu Hermitage's Sage Arts."
Orochimaru didn't seem offended.
Of course, he didn't. Or rather, he wouldn't show it. That's how snakes curry favor. Slithering on his belly, trying to negotiate because he knew—he knew—that fighting me wasn't a guaranteed win for him anymore.
It suits him so much.
I wanted to laugh.
The sannin's smile widened, a glint flashing in his yellow eyes—
My reflexes kicked in.
I threw myself backward just as an enormous white snake erupted from the ground. Its maw gaped wide, massive enough to swallow a house. Stone cracked and splintered. Mud sprayed outward in a wet explosion. The snake's body twisted as it surged upward, engulfing everything in its path, including the old husk of Orochimaru's discarded corpse.
"What the hell, Orochimaru?!" I shouted, fury flooding my veins.
I landed horizontally on the side of a rock outcropping, chakra holding me in place. My fire hand flared to life beside me, claws flexing.
Orochimaru chuckled, the sound soft and infuriatingly amused. "My apologies, Eishin-kun. I merely intended to retrieve the body. I didn't expect you to be quite so... jumpy."
The white snake burrowed back into the earth, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.
"Usually, when the ground explodes, it's considered polite to give a heads-up."
"Point taken."
I scoffed, still crouched on the rock wall. My guard was back up….. the guard I'd stupidly lowered for some reason like some fresh-faced genin.
That pissed me off even more.
Then my attention snapped back to Orochimaru as he started gagging.
His throat bulged grotesquely, the skin stretching unnaturally wide, like a python trying to pass a watermelon. His jaw unhinged with a sickening pop, and a scroll began sliding out. Slick with saliva and stomach acid, it emerged slowly, inch by disgusting inch, covered in mucus and bile.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," I spat, disgust curling my lip. "You couldn't just….be normal."
Orochimaru ignored my commentary entirely. He grabbed the scroll with one hand, wiped it half-heartedly on his arm, and tossed it toward me.
This time, I didn't catch it.
Not out of caution. Out of pure, visceral revulsion.
The scroll hit the ground with a wet slap, rolling slightly below.
I stared at it like it was a used condom someone had thrown at me. I wanted to set it on fire.
"What the hell is that supposed to be?" I asked, staring at the mucus-covered parchment like it was a contagious disease.
Orochimaru's smile took on a different quality, less predatory, more collegial. "I've recently encountered some fuinjutsuwork that has proven... troublesome. Complex layering, interwoven triggers, the sort of craftsmanship that requires a certain elegance of mind to unravel." He tilted his head, studying me like I was a particularly interesting specimen. "I wondered if I might borrow some of your expertise. I've seen your early works, you know. Quite insightful for someone so young. I'm curious to see how you've developed since then."
Back when I was first learning fuinjutsu, I'd been stupidly optimistic about sharing knowledge. I'd published my theories, or what passed for publishing in the shinobi world. I'd practically begged people to look at my work. Notes on fuinjutsu, and jutsu shiki, simplified breakdowns of seal mechanics, my attempts to make sense of the overcomplicated abominations the Uzumaki had left behind.
I'd stopped doing that years ago.
For one thing, nobody seemed interested. The few times I'd tried to contribute to the village archives, I'd been met with bureaucratic stonewalling and dismissive attitudes. People made things more complicated every time I tried to add clarity. Like they were personally offended by the idea that sealing could be explained in plain language.
And for another, I didn't have the time anymore.
And now here was Orochimaru, the Sannin who'd spent decades collecting knowledge, mundane or fobidden treating me like some promising Academy student who needed a gold star for effort.
It's years too late for that.
So it was no surprise that Orochimaru had seen those early pieces.
And it wasn't hard to gauge his intention.
He wanted to test my current abilities. See how much I'd grown. Measure me like a genin taking a chunin exam.
I scoffed internally. The arrogance of this snake. Treating me like some academy brat who needed to prove himself.
I almost wanted to tell him to shove his scroll back where it came from. Literally.
Almost.
But I had some sense left. Why would I refuse a gift? Information about what the higher-ups had in store for me was handed to me on a silver platter. Or in this case, a saliva-coated scroll.
I hopped down from the rock and landed near the scroll. I patted my pockets, searching for a tissue or a spare cloth, anything I could use to pick the disgusting thing up without touching it directly.
My fingers brushed fabric.
Kushina's panties.
I froze.
Absolutely not. That would be a sin. A desecration. Those were sacred.
"Well, Eishin-kun?" Orochimaru made a soft, inquiring sound. "What do you say? Are you willing to lend your talents to this little puzzle of mine?"
I kept searching, finally pulling out an empty storage scroll I usually carried for miscellaneous notes. I unfurled it and used it like a makeshift glove, wrapping it around the spit-covered scroll and lifting it gingerly.
I hummed, turning the whole situation over in my mind.
Working with Orochimaru was ill-advised. Working with a snake I'd just tried to kill was doubly so.
But...
Things weren't the same as they once were.
I was the Kage-killer now. And Orochimaru was wary of me. We were on the same stage. I could even argue I was above him.
Orochimaru was just a scientist obsessed with immortality. A coward afraid of death.
I made up my mind.
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