"Manda… you were disappointingly weak."
A cruel sneer twisted Orochimaru-sama's lips as he fled, the psychic backlash of the severed summoning contract confirming the great serpent's demise. The connection had snapped like a rotten thread, leaving only a hollow echo in his chakra network.
So, even Ryūchi Cave's mightiest fell so easily? The thought was more sobering than frightening.
"Ah, Manda. Though you failed to kill him, I shall still honor our bargain. Five hundred sacrifices will be offered in your name…" he murmured to the wind, the promise tasting like ash. "Naturally, that is predicated on my own successful escape from that monster's clutches!"
His body ached from the relentless, chakra-fueled sprint. Without breaking stride, he roughly seized Karin's wrist and bit down. The potent, life-giving chakra of the Uzumaki clan flooded his system, instantly replenishing his reserves and soothing his screaming muscles.
"Karin, keep up!" he hissed, discarding her arm.
A pang of profound annoyance struck him.
"Why did I never integrate wings into this vessel?" he lamented inwardly, envisioning a form soaring above such terrestrial pursuits. With wings, no one—not even a yellow flash—could ever run him to ground again!
*****
Back at the clearing, Raimon faced a logistical dilemma.
"This thing… what kind of jar would you even need?" he muttered, hands on his hips as he stared at Manda's severed head, a behemoth larger than a three-story teahouse. It was a trophy, a treasure, and a monumental storage headache.
"Tch. No helping it. Can't let it go to waste!" A chef's pride overrode all else. He couldn't abandon such a pristine, high-quality ingredient. Placing a palm on the cool, scaled surface, he focused. "Hiraishin no Jutsu."
With a silent rush of space-time ninjutsu, the gargantuan snake head vanished from the ravaged forest.
***
Konohagakure, above the Hokage Monument.
A mountain of purple scales and bone suddenly materialized amidst the trees with a soft pop of displaced air.
In the Hokage's office, Tsunade-sama was mid-signature when the colossal shadow blotted out the sun. Her head snapped up, her eyes widening.
"What in the—?!" In a flash, she was out of her chair and through the window, landing on the rooftop in a crouch before blurring toward the monument.
Jiraiya-sama looked up from his own mountain of paperwork, blinking in confusion.
"Orochimaru's summon? Manda?" He scratched his head. "Didn't Raimon just go to talk to him? To deliver the news?" A sense of foreboding settled in his gut. "That idiot snake… he never learns, does he?"
Shaking his head, he buried his face back in a scroll. "Not my circus, not my monkeys. The faster we finish this, the faster I can go… ah, gather material for my next literary masterpiece!" He ignored Shizune's exasperated sigh from across the table.
By the time Tsunade reached the bizarre scene, Raimon was already gone—having immediately teleported back to retrieve the rest of the prize. Leaving several tons of prime snake meat unattended in the wild was an invitation for scavengers and a crime against gastronomy.
Two and a half seconds later, another spatial distortion announced his return, the headless, miles-long serpent body now draped over the forest like a grotesque, scale-covered mountain range.
Before he could even greet her, Tsunade was in his face, her fist pulled back, chakra flaring. "You bastard! Did you stab Orochimaru?!"
Raimon effortlessly leaned back, avoiding the blow that cracked the air where his head had been.
"Whoa, easy there, Hokage-sama!" he protested, his expression turning flat. "Say it clearer next time. People might get the wrong idea, thinking I did something untoward to Orochimaru-sama."
Tsunade paused, remembering Orochimaru's current… feminine vessel. Her anger shifted to flustered irritation. "Ahem! Then why are you two fighting? Weren't you supposed to talk to him?"
A flicker of concern, old and buried, showed in her eyes. For all his crimes, he was once her teammate.
Namikaze Raimon threw his hands up in exasperation. "I tried! He didn't let me get a word in edgewise! He just popped out Manda and bolted!"
(In Orochimaru's mind, the logic was flawless: 'If I stop, I'm eating a Drill. Why would I stop?')
"Enough chit-chat," Raimon said, turning to leave. "I still have a runaway snake to catch. Oh, and Tsunade-sama!" He pointed a stern finger at the serpentine bounty. "Guard this for me. It's premium stuff! Have the kitchen corps start processing the body. I'll deal with preserving the head when I get back."
****
The Border of the Land of Earth.
Orochimaru-sama had pushed deep into rocky territory, veering further north toward the frozen wastes of the Land of Snow. The relentless sprint was taking its toll, even with Karin's chakra top-ups.
"He shouldn't be able to track me now… right?" he whispered, his senses stretched to their limit, finding no trace of that oppressive golden chakra. He allowed himself a sliver of relief. Manda must have done something to delay him, even in death.
(Manda's spirit, if it could speak: 'I delayed him with my carcass, you miser! Don't you dare forget my five hundred souls!')
"A moment of silence for you, Manda. You will be… missed." Orochimaru-sama's tribute was as dry as the desert. The intense tension that had gripped him for the last hour finally began to ebb, replaced by a deep, muscular fatigue. His glutes, in particular, screamed in protest—clenched solid for the entire marathon, they now threatened to cramp viciously.
"When I develop the ultimate buttock-protecting ninja tool, I shall return for you, Namikaze Raimon," he vowed, his long tongue snaking out to wet his lips. The thought of Raimon's body, that perfect vessel of immense power and vitality, still made his scientific heart race. Kidney stones were a trivial surgery for him. As for the dreaded 'Drill' technique… his current vessel lacked the necessary equipment to be concerned. A small, bitter consolation.
Believing himself finally safe, his pace began to slow unconsciously. He allowed himself to think about a hot bath, a new lab…
"Hey there, little snake. You ran off before I could finish my sentence."
The voice, cheerful and horrifyingly close, came from directly behind his left ear.
Orochimaru-sama's entire posterior region seized up in a clench of pure instinct. His fleeing speed, which had been flagging, instantly redlined, shattering his previous personal best.
"How?!" his mind screamed.
"Is there a traitor in my midst?!" He ruled out Jūgo and Karin instantly—neither had ever been in prolonged contact with Raimon for a Hiraishin mark to be placed.
The chilling realization dawned like a winter sunrise.
"Myself…? That time in Konoha… when he…" He recalled the deeply violating, profoundly painful moment the Drill had made contact. "He marked me then?! While he was… performing that atrocity?!"
"Kuso! How insidious can one person be?!" Orochimaru-sama wanted to weep. A mark there? How was he supposed to escape? He was suddenly, morbidly grateful Raimon hadn't decided to teleport in for a midnight 'poke' before now.
The golden-haired specter kept perfect pace beside him, just at the edge of his vision. "Orochimaru! Just listen! Tsunade-sama—"
"I'm not listening! I won't listen!" Orochimaru-sama chanted, a childish mantra of denial. He briefly, desperately considered excising the marked flesh, but the risk was too great. What if the mark was tied to his chakra system itself? He might maim his vessel for nothing.
His eyes darted to Jūgo, who was struggling to keep up. "Jūgo! Delay him!"
The loyal, simple-hearted warrior didn't hesitate. He planted himself on a massive tree branch ahead, his body already swelling and morphing as he drew on nature energy, becoming a bulwark of muscle and bone.
Raimon saw the obstruction but didn't break stride. He had news to deliver.
"You're in the way," he stated flatly. As he neared Jūgo, wind-nature chakra screeched to life around his foot, compressing into a visible vortex.
"Fūton: Senri Issen!"
(Wind Release: Journey of a Thousand Miles!)
His kick connected not with destructive force, but with immense, focused wind pressure. THWOOM! Jūgo was blasted from the branch not as a wounded combatant, but as a human cannonball, sent sailing over the horizon with a confused yell, disappearing into a speck.
"Karin! Your turn!" Orochimaru-sama barked, growing desperate. Perhaps an Uzumaki sealing technique could disrupt the teleportation?
Karin skidded to a stop, raising her arms… but Raimon simply leaped over her in a high, graceful arc, not even sparing her a glance. It was logical—why engage a non-combatant sensor?
"Damn it all! I should have brought Kabuto! That boy always has a scheme…" He cursed sending Yakushi Kabuto ahead to scout for a new base.
His hand shot to a scroll at his hip. "My last resort… it had better work!" Unsealing it in a fluid motion, he produced a strange, metallic-looking pad and, with a practiced and desperate move, awkwardly secured it over the seat of his pants.
"OROCHIMARU! WHY ARE YOU STILL RUNNING?!"
Raimon's voice was now right beside him, running in perfect sync. The proximity made Orochimaru's newly-protected backside clench instinctively against the metal guard.
"Aniki! Please! I'll give you a billion ryō! Just let me go!"
"Just stop so we can talk!"
"Konoha has revoked your extermination order! Tsunade-sama has personally exonerated your past Konoha-based research!"
What? Revoked? A trick. It must be a trick to lower my guard! Orochimaru-sama's paranoia was a fortified wall. He pushed himself harder.
"If you don't stop this instant," Raimon's voice dropped to a deadly, cheerful calm, "I'm going to Drill you."
Screeeeech!
Orochimaru-sama's feet dug twin furrows into the earth as he came to an abrupt, dust-kicking halt. He stood rigid, back still turned, every muscle taut.
Raimon slowed to a walk, circling to face him. "Tsunade-sama asked me to relay a message." His grin was wide and utterly mischievous, making Orochimaru-sama fight the urge to bolt again. "Orochimaru. Konoha's extermination order on you is rescinded. Furthermore, Tsunade-sama officially invites you to return to the village to serve as… a Hokage's Assistant."
Silence.
The words hung in the air, slowly processing in Orochimaru-sama's brilliant, paranoid, and now thoroughly exhausted mind.
The tension, the fear, the marathon sprint, the loss of Manda, the butt-clenching terror… it all coalesced into a single, overwhelming, and utterly ridiculous realization.
He had run like a headless chicken, sacrificed his greatest summon, and terrified his subordinates… for an invitation to a job interview.
The metallic guard on his rear felt suddenly very stupid.
A visible tremor ran through Orochimaru-sama's frame. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, venomous, utterly strained hiss of pure, unadulterated frustration.
"You… complete… fool… WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO SOONER?!"