Before dawn, at six o'clock sharp, Uchiha Gen was already out the door, breakfast in hand.
He wore a fitted black combat suit beneath a windbreaker lined with silver trim. Short black boots crunched lightly against the frosted stone street. Winter wasn't a season for sandals.
The village was still draped in darkness. Dim lamps flickered along the road, and Gen's breath misted white in the cold.
Most homes were silent, their windows black. Only the faint chatter of early breakfast stalls broke the quiet, warm steam and the smell of buns spilling into the street.
By the time he reached the main gate at 6:25, Gen had finished the hot buns and tea he'd picked up on the way.
Two minutes later, Orochimaru arrived, his pale form emerging from the gloom. He wore a dark blue combat suit beneath a flowing white cloak.
This morning's mission force was only the two of them. The supply convoy wouldn't depart for another two days, and the clan families had dispatched border units directly from the front lines.
For anyone else, there was little reason to volunteer for the war.
But Gen wasn't just anyone.
"Orochimaru-sensei, have you eaten?" Gen asked with a grin.
"Eggs, for energy. Let's go."
The gate guards straightened instantly as the pair approached, bowing respectfully before swinging the gates open.
In the next moment, Orochimaru and Gen blurred into streaks of motion, vanishing beyond the walls into the predawn dark.
The forest whipped past on either side, trees shrinking into streaks of shadow. Their pace was faster than a train, but careful, steady, conserving stamina and chakra for what lay ahead.
For a long while, neither spoke.
Then, Orochimaru's voice cut through the rush of wind.
"Why do you want to march to war with me?"
"Wherever the master goes, the disciple must follow," Gen replied smoothly.
Orochimaru gave a low, serpentine laugh. "Hehehe… yet you don't usually linger by my side. At most, three visits a month."
Gen chuckled. "Alright, you've seen through me. The real reason is simple... I want to harvest souls."
Orochimaru's golden eyes slid toward him, faint confusion etched on his pale face.
"Harvest souls? Not lives?"
"Souls," Gen confirmed.
"Why?"
"Souls scatter into the Pure Land after death unless you have a method to capture them. And I do. My research succeeded. I've awakened a new kekkei genkai."
Orochimaru's brow arched. "A new bloodline limit? Besides the Sharingan?"
"My own, unique bloodline."
Both landed lightly on separate tree branches, facing each other. Orochimaru's interest sharpened, his tone silken.
"Oh? Do explain."
Gen lifted his chin, eyes distant with memory.
"It started after I barely survived the Third Shinobi War. When I awakened the double tomoe, my spiritual power grew rapidly. My mastery of yin-based techniques, illusion especially, expanded with it. Soon, any genjutsu I saw, I could reproduce instantly."
Orochimaru gave a soft whistle. "Impressive… even I can't claim such mastery."
"Later, when we discussed immortality, I studied the Spirit Transformation Technique. That art changed everything."
"You've mastered it?"
"For me, it was only a little harder than genjutsu," Gen said with casual ease.
Orochimaru's lips curled in silence, though his eyes glinted. A prodigy beyond even his expectations and yet useful. Gen's insights might one day refine his own dream of a flawless reincarnation.
"After mastering spirit transformation, my spiritual strength underwent a… metamorphosis. It was as if something in my blood was struggling to surface. With the research equipment you procured for me, I tracked the changes. Half a month later… a new kekkei genkai was born."
Orochimaru's smile widened. "What a fortunate disciple. And will you show me?"
"Of course."
Gen's eyes narrowed in amusement. He unsheathed the Kusanagi sword and, without warning, hurled it at his teacher.
The blade flashed. Orochimaru tilted his body just enough; the sword whistled past.
But instead of striking a tree, the sword twisted in midair like a snake. The blade arced back, slashing for Orochimaru's neck.
His eyes narrowed. His head bent at an impossible angle, spine contorting unnaturally to avoid the strike. The sword curved after him, relentless.
Gen's Shizukamaru sang through the forest, each pass severing branches, carving deep gouges in bark. Leaves whirled in chaotic spirals.
Orochimaru moved with equal inhuman agility, weaving and bending, his cloak tearing at the hem as the blade grazed close.
A spark shower lit the dark when Orochimaru finally drew a kunai, flooding it with earth chakra and parrying. Steel shrieked against steel as Shizukamaru was knocked aside, spinning through the air.
Perched on a nearby branch, Gen's voice rang out, calm and commanding.
"That's enough, Shizukamaru."
"Yes Master"
The blade halted mid-flight, then zipped obediently back into his hand.
Orochimaru lowered his kunai slowly. His pale lips stretched into a thin smile, but his golden eyes gleamed with unmasked hunger.