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Hiruzen Sarutobi did not sleep that night.
He stood in silence before the window of the Hokage's office, quietly awaiting an outcome.
"Hokage-sama."
When Heshu appeared in the office, Hiruzen's hand trembled.
He turned. Orochimaru wasn't there.
His heart seized.
So, Orochimaru… was he dead?
"Hokage-sama, I have failed my duty. I was unable to bring Orochimaru-senpai back." Heshu bowed his head, his voice heavy with guilt.
In that moment, Hiruzen felt a surge of relief.
On the desk lay the folded Hokage's robes, shed like a skin.
The one who should feel ashamed was not Heshu. It was he, Hiruzen Sarutobi. Even after his disciple's betrayal, a part of him still wished for Orochimaru to live.
"Heshu. With your abilities, bringing back Orochimaru shouldn't have been impossible."
Hiruzen needed a salve. A reason.
Heshu understood this perfectly.
"My apologies, Hokage-sama."
"I… I could not… raise my hand against Orochimaru-senpai…"
"We fought in the same wars. Served in the same organization…" A choked sound entered Heshu's voice.
This, Hiruzen thought, was human. The Hokage was a man, too. He felt pain. Heshu understood Hiruzen better than anyone. The Third's heart would never allow him to deliver a killing blow to his own student. He'd probably worried for Orochimaru the moment Heshu volunteered for the mission.
This was also why Heshu had let the snake slip away.
He knew Hiruzen would never speak of this. Not to anyone.
"A good child. I know you value your bonds." Hiruzen placed a heavy hand on Heshu's shoulder.
When Heshu looked up, he saw the faint, telltale red rimming the old man's eyes.
Of course.
The defection of his most gifted, most favored disciple… it was the heaviest blow Hiruzen could suffer.
Heshu knew it. The time for the Third Hokage's retirement was approaching.
Orochimaru's betrayal was a fatal strike to the Sandaime's reputation. The shame of his own partiality would gnaw at him from within.
Hiruzen would step down. He'd choose it himself.
"Go and rest. Don't dwell on it." Hiruzen looked into his glistening eyes and offered a grandfatherly comfort.
"Yes."
Heshu turned. The corner of his mouth lifted.
His plan had taken a massive leap forward.
Now… it was Hanataki's turn to enter the stage.
The border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Rain blurred beneath Orochimaru's swift passage. He arrived at Amegakure's gates with unnerving speed.
His figure stopped before the massive, rain-slicked steel doors.
He did not move.
Because perched atop that industrial barrier were four silent figures.
Black cloaks with red clouds. Varying heights.
Orochimaru's pupils dilated the moment they landed on those eyes.
The Rinnegan.
He'd thought them legend. Myth. To see them, real and piercing, sent a shiver of pure intellectual hunger down his spine.
"Tsukimi Heshu?" Orochimaru murmured.
In his vision, standing beside the man with the Rinnegan, was a figure identical to Heshu in every visible aspect—face, build, everything.
"Orochimaru of Konohagakure."
A figure stepped forward. Her gaze was ice, fixing on Orochimaru as if he were a complete stranger.
"No…" Orochimaru breathed, dismissing his initial thought. The resemblance was uncanny, but the expression, the aura… there was a clear distinction.
"Konoha?"
"Orochimaru?"
Konan's expression shifted minutely. Orochimaru, one of the legendary Sannin. The comrade of their own teacher, Jiraiya.
"It seems Orochimaru of Konoha has turned traitor," Tendo's voice was flat as he noted the deep gouge across the forehead protector.
"Is your organization not waiting for rogue ninja to join?" Orochimaru's lips slowly curled into a smile.
He did not recognize the children before him. The Second War was a distant memory. For someone like Orochimaru, who had seen countless war orphans, Nagato and the others were not significant enough to remember after all these years.
"We do not accept just anyone," Tendo stated.
The girl glanced sideways. "Orochimaru, as one of the Sannin, is more than qualified in strength."
Tendo's gaze lowered to her. "Test him."
This fucking Nagato! Bossing me around for everything!
Konan frowned. "Hanataki's strength shouldn't be enough to handle one of the Sannin."
"One won't know without trying," Tendo countered. Their last encounter with Sasori proved Hanataki had power to spare. As the one who held the reins of the Akatsuki, he needed a complete, visceral understanding of his subordinates' capabilities. It was the only way to deploy them effectively.
Konan could only bite her lip, her worried gaze settling on Hanataki.
This suited Orochimaru just fine. He was intensely curious about the connection between Tsukimi Heshu and this girl.
"Wind Style: Wind Cutter Technique!"
Blades of compressed air shrieked toward Hanataki.
She flickered. Gold light erupted, cloaking her form in an instant—Corona Mode.
"Solar Barrier!"
A circular shield of condensed sunlight bloomed in her palm.
Wind met light.
The shield didn't even waver. The wind blades dissipated against its surface, fading into nothing.
"A completely different combat style from Tsukimi Heshu."
Orochimaru's initial suspicion faded, replaced by a much more interesting puzzle. Even if she wasn't Heshu, there had to be a connection. A bloodline, perhaps.
"Ninja Art: Serpent Mouth Bind!"
A grotesque, pulsating wall of flesh erupted from behind Orochimaru, stretching forward. Acidic drool sizzled as it hit the steel floor, eating through it instantly. Gas began to swirl and compress at Hanataki's fingertip. Chakra concentrated to a critical point, the surface of the gaseous sphere igniting with golden flame.
The Prominence Ball, no larger than her palm, shot forward.
Orochimaru's body moved like liquid, contorting backward in a leap.
BOOM!
The explosion shook the very foundations of the gate. The fleshy interior of the infinitely extending serpent's maw was utterly vaporized. The Prominence Ball was a kill-shot from the Corona Mode.
A flicker of genuine shock passed through Orochimaru's eyes. He hadn't expected such devastating force from such a small package.
"Heat Wave!"
Orochimaru's body seemed to hang in mid-air. Then, in the next instant, he was right in front of Hanataki.
At the same moment, the searing golden beam of the Heat Wave erupted from her extended palm.
The brilliant, blinding column of light forced everyone to look away.
Konan shut her eyes tightly against the retina-searing glare.
When she opened them, Orochimaru's torso had a clean hole punched through it. On the ground lay two massive serpent segments, cleanly bisected. Where the golden beam had struck, the flesh had simply turned to drifting ash. Only the head and a stub of tail remained.
The wound in Orochimaru's side writhed. Smaller snakes surged from within, knitting the flesh back together.
"Enough," Tendo's voice cut through the aftermath.
The golden light around Hanataki vanished. She was back at Tendo's side in a blink.
"From today, you are a member of the Akatsuki," Tendo declared.
Konan stepped forward, cloak and ring already in hand.
"His… art is revolting." Sasori, standing beside Hanataki, watched the serpentine regeneration with pure disdain. He looked to Hanataki, seeking agreement.
"Indeed. If that is art, then it does not deserve the name," Hanataki stated with utter seriousness.
[Ding! Affection level of target Sasori of the Red Sand has reached 85!]
"…"
Hanataki's eye twitched.
Orochimaru donned the Akatsuki cloak and approached her.
"This is Hanataki of the Akatsuki," Konan introduced.
"Hanataki?" Orochimaru's gaze pinned her. "No family name?"
Konan's brow furrowed. Why was everyone so obsessed with Hanataki's surname?
"Tsukimi," Hanataki replied, her voice cool.
"Tsukimi…" Orochimaru's smile widened, a flash of genuine, predatory excitement. He felt he had uncovered a delightful secret.
[Ding! Affection level of target Orochimaru has reached 100!]
"…"
What the hell is Snake Uncle thinking now?
"What a disgusting smile." Sasori, who now considered Hanataki his one true artistic peer, offered a dry critique of Orochimaru's expression.
"…"
Orochimaru's attention finally shifted to the figure beside Hanataki.
"Sasori of the Red Sand?" His knowledge was vast; he recognized the puppet master instantly.
Sasori, of course, didn't grant him so much as a glance.
Tendo observed them for a moment, then with a few leaps, his figure ascended to the highest tower.
The Akatsuki really is just a bunch of individuals living their own lives. No one bothers with anyone else. Hanataki mused, watching the figures disperse. Whatever schemes Snake Uncle was brewing didn't matter. A full affection meter was always a good thing.
Night fell in Amegakure.
Tendo sat at the head, expounding on the organization's will and ultimate goal.
Orochimaru's eyes never left Hanataki.
Hanataki rolled her eyes.
Tendo, your big Rinnegan eyes are useless. He's not listening to a damn word you're saying. His whole focus is on me.
"Hanataki, later… I will accompany you for that teriyaki fish-bone rice bowl at the street stall," Sasori whispered to her. He didn't need to eat, but Hanataki did. To secure more time to discuss true art, Sasori would have followed her into the bathroom if he could.
"I shall join you," Orochimaru proposed, a smile plastered on his face.
Tendo, in the middle of outlining their primary objectives, paused. His gaze swung to Orochimaru.
"I care not what you do in your spare time. But capturing the Tailed Beasts is our paramount mission. Should anyone neglect this duty… there is only one outcome."
Orochimaru received the threat. His smile didn't falter.
He, Orochimaru, was not one to be intimidated. He didn't know the full extent of this "Tendo's" power, but taking his life would be no simple feat.
Sasori leveled a death glare at Orochimaru.
"Do you even comprehend the concept of art?"
"You, who defiles art itself, are unworthy of joining us." Sasori pronounced each word with solemn finality.
Hanataki watched Orochimaru's frozen smile. It took monumental effort not to laugh out loud.
Sasori really has a way with words. He should talk more often.
"I am certain… I will find another opportunity to dine with Hanataki," Orochimaru recovered his smile, his tone almost polite.
This time, Sasori wasn't the only one frowning.
Konan's displeased gaze flickered between Orochimaru and Sasori. Sasori clinging to Hanataki since his arrival was already a source of quiet irritation. Now this Orochimaru…
She could almost excuse Sasori's attentions as a form of intellectual attraction between peers. He might be a puppet, but at least he maintained a human appearance. An ageless, unchanging one.
But Orochimaru…
Konan's frown deepened the longer she looked.
That… half-human, half-ghoul appearance… should stay far away from Hanataki.
He wasn't worthy.
A world where only Orochimaru suffered had been successfully achieved.
Konohagakure.
The news of Orochimaru's defection sent shockwaves through the village.
Whispers became murmurs, murmurs became unrest.
The Sandaime, Hiruzen Sarutobi, suppressed and soothed, but the pressure within him grew with each passing day.
Everything about the village signaled it: Konoha needed a new leader. Fresh, young blood. Not a weary old man clinging to the past.
"Hiruzen's time is up."
In the shadowy depths of Root, Danzo sat, a faint, victorious smile playing on his lips.
Heshu observed the poorly concealed excitement on Danzo's face. He thought of the rumors swirling through the village, growing louder each day—all aimed at pressuring Hiruzen to step down.
"…"
Danzo, old friend, you really don't hold back against your comrades, do you? Heshu marveled inwardly.
"Danzo-sama, please don't say that. The Hokage has given so much to Konoha." Heshu wore a look of earnest concern. "I truly don't know what heartless scum are spreading these vile rumors about him lately."
Danzo felt a sharp pang in his chest. His smile vanished instantly.
Hold. Hold!
Just endure until Tsukimi Heshu becomes Hokage. Then he will be in my grasp!
Do not lose your temper!
It is not yet time to reveal your hand!
Danzo mentally chanted his mantra, rebuilding his composure brick by brick.
"Heshu. Are you… concerned about becoming Hokage?" Danzo began to lay his trap.
"…Concerned?" Heshu looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Should I be concerned about something?"
Danzo's mouth twitched. "Aren't you afraid you might be unable to handle major events? To control the situation?"
Heshu shook his head decisively. "Danzo-sama, why would you think such a thing?"
Danzo's heart skipped. Had the boy seen through him?
Impossible. Tsukimi Heshu didn't possess that kind of cunning.
"Of course I'm not afraid. If I am the Hokage, and I cannot control something, then who possibly could?" Heshu asked, his tone dripping with genuine, bewildered curiosity.
"…"
Danzo felt old blood rise in his throat.
"What I mean to say is… I am your senior. I am willing to… assist you when you encounter difficulties!" Danzo forced his face into the most benevolent expression it had ever worn.
Heshu's eyes lit up. He looked at Danzo with surprised delight. "Really, Danzo-sama?"
Danzo nodded gravely.
"Any difficulty I encounter, I can come to you?"
The corner of Danzo's mouth began to curl upward again. "Of course!"
"You won't refuse?" Heshu added quickly.
"Of course not!"
"If I have promised to help you resolve your difficulties, how could I possibly turn you away?" Danzo stated with firm, grandfatherly conviction.
"Ha! I will remember your words, Danzo-sama!" Heshu smiled brightly.
Danzo smiled back.
He would be delighted to shoulder Heshu's burdens.
Better yet, to handle everything for him.
Let Shimura Danzo become the true Hokage of this village
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