"This is my gift as your disciple, Orochimaru-sensei; a token of my gratitude, meant as funding for your research."
Gen knelt, both hands offering a thick stack of banknotes.
Orochimaru extended a pale hand, taking the money with that slow, deliberate grace of his. Each note was a ten-thousand-ryō bill; the weight and thickness spoke of more than three million ryō in total. His golden eyes narrowed slightly.
Not a fortune by his standards, perhaps, but the thought behind it was worth far more.
Both of Gen's parents were chūnin, neither blessed with the Sharingan. Even with clan support, the family couldn't have saved much.
Gen had come of age during the war, when missions were compulsory and unpaid beyond basic supplies. Only after awakening the Sharingan, and later a two-tomoe form, would his clan support rise, and even then, not for long.
For a young shinobi like him, this was a considerable sum.
"Do you have enough left at home?" Orochimaru asked.
"Enough. A little over three million still."
Half his savings. Orochimaru filed that detail away.
Gen had no regrets. Big moves required big stakes, and building rapport with Orochimaru was worth every coin.
The higher his standing in the clan, the greater his clan's support, enough to live comfortably without ever taking another mission.
Luxuries would remain out of reach, but ninja life discouraged indulgence anyway. Discipline, austerity, focus — those were the shinobi's creed.
"In that case," Orochimaru said softly, "I accept your gift."
He set the bills aside. "And in return, I have two gifts for you."
Orochimaru tilted his head back and opened his mouth.
A brown python slid forth, its scales gleaming in the dim light. It spat out a scroll slick with mucus, then a blade equally wet, before retreating back into its master's throat.
Orochimaru flicked the slime away and offered them.
Gen kept his expression neutral as he accepted them; though the damp, slippery feel made his skin crawl.
"The scroll contains Bringer-of-Darkness Technique, an A-rank genjutsu devised by the Second Hokage. Perfect for you."
"And this..." Orochimaru's tone shifted, almost casual, "is the Kusanagi Sword."
Originally, Orochimaru had planned to give only the genjutsu. But Gen's decisiveness and their shared pursuit of immortality, made him reconsider.
Gen's eyes lit up. Three million ryō was nothing compared to the worth of these gifts. Neither could be bought with money.
The Bringer of Darkness jutsu could neutralize the Sharingan, something Gen had coveted for a long time.
And the Kusanagi… not the plain blade Sasuke would one day wield, but Orochimaru's own, capable of extending over a hundred meters and knocking back even a tailed-beast-cloaked Naruto. Its chakra conductivity was unmatched, its metal harder than anything else in the world, sharp enough to wound the Diamond Body of the Monkey King himself.
Only a weapon like this deserved a fragment of his soul.
"Thank you, Orochimaru-sensei." Gen bowed deeply, a rare smile breaking through his composure.
Anko, watching, pouted. "Sensei's playing favorites with senior brother. The gift you gave me when I became your disciple doesn't even compare."
"Senior brother?" Orochimaru said, amused. "Isn't he your junior?"
Gen quickly explained the mix-up.
"I see… senior brother it is," Orochimaru said, lips curling. "Less pressure than being a senior sister."
"Don't change the subject," Anko huffed. "You have to make it up to me."
Orochimaru chuckled. "Tell me, Anko — did you give me a gift when you became my apprentice?"
She froze. In truth, she'd depended on her teacher for nearly everything before becoming a kunoichi, and even afterward he'd often subsidized her.
"Don't sulk," Orochimaru said mildly. "Take five million from the chest. Spend it as you like. But keep your weight under control. And if you don't make chūnin by my deadline… you know the consequences."
Anko shivered, then grinned. "Got it. Thank you, Sensei."
With a puff of smoke, a massive scroll appeared on the low table. Orochimaru tapped it. "The summoning contract of Ryūchi Cave. If you have no summoning beast, sign here."
Gen bit his thumb, pressed his bloody handprint beneath Anko's, and returned the scroll.
"Interested in snake techniques?" Orochimaru asked, pouring himself sake.
"Of course," Gen replied. "More skills are always better. And as your disciple, Sensei, not knowing your signature ninjutsu would make me look like a fraud."
Orochimaru's smile deepened. "You learn quickly. Take this scroll. When you've mastered it, return. If you want to study anything else, just ask."
Another puff of smoke. Another scroll.
Gen's mind was already racing. He gave a subtle nod toward the chests. Orochimaru understood immediately.
"Anko, take the money to my room," he said.
She obeyed, hefting both boxes with ease.
Once she was gone, Orochimaru asked, "So? What's so secret?"
"Do you know the Spiritual Transformation Technique?" Gen asked.
"Of course. Kato Dan, Tsunade's late lover, was its master. An S-rank forbidden jutsu."
Gen's voice lowered. "Eternal life is about the body and soul. I believe the soul is the key. The Spiritual Transformation Technique is priceless for that reason."
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed in interest. After a pause, he said, "I'll acquire it. It's not difficult."
Gen nodded. With Orochimaru's current standing, still in good graces with Hiruzen, allied with Danzō, and without the tensions of later years, obtaining it was nearly inevitable.
This jutsu was the perfect counterpart to his Soul-Soul Fruit. If Orochimaru failed, Gen was prepared to risk everything during the chaos of the Nine-Tails' attack to steal the Scroll of Seals himself.
"It's late," Orochimaru said at last, rising. "Stay as you like."
"Thank you, Sensei," Gen replied, standing and bowing. A good teacher deserved respect.
Orochimaru gave a faint nod — and then simply sank into the floor, vanishing from sight.