The rain pattered, pounding the stone steps and pond in the courtyard, isolating the two 'deserters' from the negotiations'.
The specially-made herbal cigarette in Orochimaru's fingers was over half burnt. The strange pungent aroma intertwined with the rain's cool freshness, adding a somewhat transcendent atmosphere to this conversation.
"Spirit... huh."
Orochimaru repeated the word, his golden snake eyes flickering with thought. He unconsciously drew in smoke, as if trying to chew and swallow that scorching temperature and intense stimulation along with the word itself.
Separating 'spirit' from the dualism of body and soul as an independent, decisive third element of sentient beings—this discourse was quite novel to him.
Regardless of semantic debate or argument—rather, a more practical theoretical understanding. Upon reflection, this perspective indeed extends to many quite interesting arguments.
Just hearing this theory, vague inspirations surfaced in his mind.
"After all, every era pursues young power, doesn't it?"
The next moment, Hii Kōri's words pulled him from meditation.
The same words spoken by different people naturally evoke completely different reactions.
Beguiling, inciting hot-blooded youth to charge to their deaths; or simply wanting to dump work and ease one's own burden; or genuinely harboring similar ideals, paving the way for successors.
The so-called charm of comparison lies here in.
And from Hii Kōri now, it counted as appropriate self-reflection.
So-called youth isn't physical age or soul's record, but a more subtle spiritual-level vitality. Or rather, that 'lightness' of mentality belonging to youth.
He believed with Orochimaru's mind, he'd surely understand this.
"Since time's passage is in endless flux, death and extinction surely await on the path of trying to escape death and extinction. To prevent this change, one must prevent time's passage together."
Thus Hii Kōri turned solemnly, calmly stating thus.
So-called truth-seekers are those who, as long as higher peaks are visible, as long as higher peaks are climbable, will continue climbing even with limbs shattered—
Until no further room for advance, until reaching truly the highest point.
Then, some might return to the mountain's foot, but others would reach for the shining stars, trying to grasp that momentary brilliance in their palms.
But 'technique' alone has no limits.
No matter how much one masters, what one can master in a lifetime is limited. While mastering one technique, countless others somewhere in the world might have created entirely new techniques.
Though ultimately converging, the differences before concepts converge in different directions is also quite wonderful.
Research interesting techniques, expand from technique itself to related fields, continue branching outward—as a truth-seeker, no happier way to live.
In Orochimaru's eyes, he'd been distractedly pondering something; his usually misty-shrouded eyes now are exceptionally clear, like a child describing their dreams.
"But that way, nothing can be continued created. Compared to aging, isn't a heart that stops more despair?"
"Sounds quite idealistic, no?"
Orochimaru's tone carried a hint of doubt, but his expression showed no doubt—rather, quite cheerful.
Though belonging to rival factions, apparently neither cared much. Even discussing vague ideas, not involving respective actual research, just such conversations—like brief chats outside the lab during breaks—already satisfied Orochimaru's thirst.
Rather, he was simply enjoying this conversation.
"What's wrong with that? Learning and research should be romantic, shouldn't they?"
Pulling another test tube from his sleeve, uncorking it, downing its suspiciously colored liquid, Hii Kōri quite frankly shrugged.
"Heh... Indeed, I quite like you, Hii-kun."
"Ah, that's unnecessary. Honestly, your gaze at the reception hall entrance on day one was already quite sharp, made me itch all over."
Rapidly retreating two steps, Hii Kōri's bright expression instantly collapsed into a professional smile. Then, as if to completely block any possible misunderstanding, he seriously added, "I have a lover, you know."
Orochimao's hand—not yet fully raised, seemingly about to make some invitation or confirmation—froze midair. This abrupt topic shift and decisive boundary-drawing left him momentarily speechless.
When Hii Kōri finished the second half of the sentence, it made him itch all over, as if about to shed skin.
He clicked his tongue, his frozen hand slightly clenching twice, pretending to exercise his joints to cover up this momentary lapse.
Then, seeing Hii Kōri's prankster's smile, he couldn't help chuckling.
Not intending to explain the dangerous topic of 'like,' Orochimaru merely gazed deeply at Hii Kōri with those golden snake eyes, his look intertwined with helplessness.
Still retaliating for giving him that disliked nickname?
Thinking thus, he said no more, maintaining that snakelike eeriness, slowly turning and silently retreating along the corridor into hazy rain and dim light, until disappearing.
Hii Kōri watched him leave until that distinctive cold chakra completely faded from perception, then his professional smile slowly faded, returning to usual flatness.
"Ah... almost got carried away."
He murmured, rubbing his brow. Though sounding like complaining, the pleasure in his eyes was equally clear.
Orochimaru found this conversation quite pleasant—was he any different?
But the problem: meeting a congenial spirit yet being unable to delve deeper—won't the coming days be even harder?
***
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