After leaving Sakumo Hatake's house, the three of them didn't go far. Right in the back-alley area of Konoha's commercial district, they found a small tavern that Sakumo frequented after his retirement, pushed aside the door curtain, and walked in.
The owner was a bald old man wearing reading glasses. Seeing Sakumo Hatake arrived with the two famous "Legendary Sannin," he just smiled and nodded, pointing to a raised seating area by the window in the back.
That was the spot Sakumo occasionally used when he gathered for small get-togethers with his former colleagues from the jōnin ranks.
Not long after they were seated, a few simple side dishes were brought out. Sakumo Hatake ordered a flask of warm sake. A cup was placed in front of Jiraiya as well. Only in front of Orochimaru sat a steaming cup of barley tea.
Orochimaru had never liked cold food, and the same went for drinks.
"Really not drinking any?" Jiraiya picked up his cup and waved it at Orochimaru.
"No. It's bad for the wound." Orochimaru used his right hand to pick up a skewer of perfectly grilled chicken, taking a slow, deliberate bite. His left hand remained at his side, barely moving.
"Tch. No fun." Jiraiya poured drinks for himself and Sakumo Hatake, then raised his cup first. "Come on, Sakumo. A toast to the three of us—uh, a toast to us all having no missions today and being able to waste time together!"
"Haha, that's a good reason." Sakumo Hatake laughed heartily, raised his cup with his right hand, clinked it against Jiraiya's, and tossed back the drink. As he moved, the sleeve of his bathrobe slid down, revealing vicious scars on his wrist and forearm—lighter in color than the surrounding skin—left over from when his muscles and nerves had been nearly shredded and then reattached.
Orochimaru simply drank his tea quietly, watching them.
After a few cups of sake, Jiraiya, holding a skewer of chicken thigh, looked at Orochimaru beside him and, taking advantage of the slight buzz, lowered his voice: "Hey, Orochimaru... you and that guy—Hii Kōri—how exactly did the fight go?"
His question wasn't born of suspicion of Orochimaru... well, maybe a little.
After all, Jiraiya himself had nearly been beaten to death by Hii Kōri on the spot, while Orochimaru had only injured his left shoulder. The discrepancy was truly disheartening.
However, the fact that Manda had died leaving behind only a giant snake skin was genuine. Orochimaru had even given him a pair of wrist guards made from Manda's skin a couple of days ago.
Thorough waste utilization.
In any case, Jiraiya essentially just wanted to gain some combat experience against Hii Kōri from his teammate.
After all this time, he still hadn't let go of the idea of revenge.
Orochimaru didn't pause in his chewing. He simply glanced sideways at Jiraiya with those golden snake eyes. After a moment, he swallowed his food, took a sip of barley tea, and answered in that slightly hoarse, steady tone: "What if I told you the two of us barely even fought? Would you believe me?"
"? The battlefield was burned that badly and you call that 'barely fought'?"
Jiraiya made an "old man on the subway looking at his phone" expression.
After parting ways with Orochimaru, before leaving with Uchiha Hikari, Hii Kōri had used Scorch Release: Incineration Cannon to burn the entire battlefield again, specifically to cover up the traces of Amaterasu.
"I had six Rashōmon gates shattered." "Say no more. Continue."
Hearing Orochimaru fabricate lies with a completely straight face, Jiraiya didn't express any suspicion. After all, in their three-man squad, close combat and healing had been Tsunade's job, ninjutsu output had been his, and Orochimaru, as the fill-in, had indeed been primarily responsible for defense.
The Rashōmon gates he summoned, when facing large-scale ninjutsu, would indeed deflect the effects in other directions.
"You know, the place where I ran into him wasn't too far from Konoha."
After brushing off Jiraiya, Orochimaru continued fabricating the subsequent developments. "That guy probably didn't want to cause too big a commotion. At first, he wasn't even very willing to throw hands."
This was actually the truth. After all, the reason they had ended up fighting later was because Orochimaru had been about to make a move.
And from Jiraiya's perspective, it was hard to question this claim. If he thought back carefully, even their own battle outside that coastal town had been started by him.
Hmm...hard to judge.
Ignoring Jiraiya's reaction, Orochimaru ate a few bites of boiled tofu and continued, "Probably worried that Konoha's reinforcements might arrive at any moment. Even when we did start fighting, he wasn't very keen on a prolonged engagement. Seeing that he couldn't kill me quickly, he used a Scorch Release technique I'd never seen before, burning Manda dry from the inside out. Then, taking advantage of my reaction time, he just withdrew."
Jiraiya's fingers tightened around his cup, his knuckles whitening. He was silent for a few seconds, then downed the sake in his cup in one gulp and set the cup down heavily on the table with a dull thud.
He didn't, and couldn't, ask Orochimaru why he hadn't stopped him. After all, he himself had personally experienced Hii Kōri's ridiculous speed and inhuman combat rhythm. Being at a comprehensive disadvantage in physical conditioning, chakra reserves, and variety of techniques, coming away with only a shoulder injury was already a testament to his skill and luck.
Jiraiya even suspected that Hii Kōri never took a break, maybe even training in his sleep.
That feeling of powerlessness the enemy having infiltrated the Land of Fire again and withdrawn without loss mixed with the alcohol, burned in his stomach.
Jiraiya fell silent, his brow furrowed as he stared at the table, clearly once again caught in the whirlpool of strategizing against Hii Kōri's abilities.
Of course, if Orochimaru knew what he was thinking, he would probably refute him: that bastard Hii Kōri actually didn't sleep at all.
Moreover, he maintained a constant chakra cycle of Yin and Yang Release. Even his breathing made him stronger.
And he could use Divided Thinking, employing a "ghost brain" to perform intracranial calculations and technique simulations.
The saddest part was that Hii Kōri had quite casually taught the latter two to Orochimaru—and Orochimaru hadn't learned them.
Hadn't! Learned! Them!
Although Orochimaru was also a ninja with mastery over all nature transformations, he truly couldn't be called talented in Yang Release. Furthermore, due to his age, training further in Yang Release now was far more difficult than for someone in their developmental years.
Yin Release was more manageable; he picked it up quickly. But without Yin-Yang circulation, continuously operating Yin Release would easily turn him into a mental case.
Not that there was anything wrong with Yin Release itself after all, other clans with Yin Release secret techniques mostly didn't have this problem. The main issue was that Orochimaru's own mental state was already somewhat atypical, rather like the Uchiha.
Orochimaru was somewhat self-aware of this.
As for Divided Thinking splitting one's thoughts and thinking processes into different streams that truly deserved to be called a forbidden technique.
Although Hii Kōri had taught it to him with an ordinary expression, the fact that no one before him other than Hii Kōri himselfhad ever learned it, or even known of its existence, already proved its danger.
Not having learned it yet was only natural. He could study it slowly later. After all, Hii Kōri had only given him the basic concepts because he thought that, if anyone could handle it, Orochimaru probably could.
If he couldn't learn it, he'd probably be thoroughly mocked the next time they met, wouldn't he?
No, before that, there were other troublesome matters to deal with.
Thinking this, Orochimaru glanced at the pensive Jiraiya, reached out with his right hand, and very naturally swiped two skewers of sizzling, crispy grilled chicken skin that had just been brought to the table from the plate in front of Jiraiya.
Just as Jiraiya was thinking about how to counter Hii Kōri, Orochimaru was also thinking about something related to him only he was thinking about how to complete the commission from his "patron," Hii Kōri: obtaining Tobirama Senju's genetic information to perform the Impure World Reincarnation technique.
Their intentions were at odds.
"Hey!" Jiraiya snapped back to reality and glared at Orochimaru with displeasure.
"Don't waste hot food."
Orochimaru slowly took a bite of the crispy chicken skin, the aroma of fat bursting between his teeth. "Even if you run through a ten thousand scenarios in your head about how to get revenge on that guy, you still have to wait for those three fingers of yours to grow back first, don't you? In your current half-crippled state, forget Hii Kōri—you couldn't even beat me."
"Hey, hey, that's not fair!"
Jiraiya's expression stiffened, then he scratched his white hair in frustration. "Easy for you to say! Your experiments have been stopped for a while now due to lack of funding, let alone any reliable applications."
"Indeed. Funding's cut off. Experiments are stopped."
Orochimaru lowered his gaze, looking at the pale yellow barley tea in his cup. The surface of the tea reflected his own expressionless face.
He said quietly, "That's why I've been thinking about whether there might be another way."
Having said this, he suddenly looked up and turned to Sakumo Hatake, who had been quietly drinking on the other side, seemingly uninvolved.
"Sakumo-sensei." Orochimaru's address made Sakumo look up with his one eye.
"Have you ever thought about truly restoring your hands to their original state?"
Sakumo Hatake's hand, holding his cup, stopped in midair. The relaxed smile on his face slightly converged. An extremely complex emotion flickered through his remaining good eye.
There was longing. There was regret. Finally, it all transformed into a bitter sense of release.
"To say I haven't thought about it would be a lie. Watching those kids sweat on the training ground is great, and being a teacher is very meaningful. But..."
He tilted his head back and downed the remaining sake in his cup. His throat bobbed. The fingers of his right hand unconsciously spread open, then slowly closed into a fist, the knuckles making faint cracking sounds. "Not being able to hold my sword steady... it always feels like something's missing."
The Broken White Fang still wanted to bite his enemies after all.
Orochimaru listened quietly, no look of surprise or judgment on his face.
When Sakumo Hatake finished, he nodded.
A sudden silence fell over their private room at the tavern. Only the faint chatter from other compartments and the distant bustle of the street market could be heard.
Jiraiya looked at Orochimaru, then at Sakumo Hatake, feeling that the atmosphere had become strangely heavy. He wanted to say something to lighten the mood, but didn't know what.
Just as Jiraiya was about to order another flask of sake, Orochimaru suddenly spoke: "Then, this afternoon, I'll go see Sarutobi-sensei."
"I'm going to request permission to learn Impure World Reincarnation."
Not a request. Not learning.
Orochimaru had already obtained the learning methods and additional analysis of the Impure World Reincarnation technique from Hii Kōri. His desire to "learn" this forbidden technique was merely a stepping stone to his next goal.
"What—?!"
Sakumo Hatake didn't know Orochimaru particularly well, but Jiraiya certainly knew his old friend inside and out.
Considering his current line of work and the word "Impure World Reincarnation," it took Jiraiya only a few seconds to realize exactly who he intended to "revive."
"You want to perform Impure World Reincarnation on the Second Hokage?!"
"Mm."
"Are you insane?"
Jiraiya tried his utmost to keep his voice down, but still couldn't hide the shock in it. He lunged forward, knocking over the sake flask on the table without a care, and stared fixedly at Orochimaru. "And the Second Hokage was Sarutobi-sensei's teacher! He's Tsunade's great-uncle! What—what are you trying to do with that technique?!"
"So what."
Orochimaru glanced sideways at him, picked up another piece of fried tofu, and tossed it into his mouth, answering in an indifferent tone. "I'm already casually cultured the First Hokage's cells for use in human experiments. Would one more sample of the Second Hokage really make a difference?"
"Don't forget, in the decades since Konoha was founded to the present, the person who has conducted the most private, forbidden human experiments, leaving behind the most dangerous legacy and unfinished research, is the Second Hokage himself."
"Impure World Reincarnation is a technique he created. Most of the highly active First Hokage cell samples I'm currently using in my lab were personally preserved by him back in the day."
He tossed the bamboo skewer into the empty dish in front of him with a light "tap."
"We unworthy successors, for the sake of the village's future, wish to borrow some of his late wisdom... I'm sure the Second Hokage, with his foresight and deep planning, with his focus on the village's interests above all else, will 'forgive' our incompetence, don't you think?"
Orochimaru looked up, his gaze sweeping over Jiraiya's complex expression one that wanted to say something but found it impossible to refute. He leaned back in his chair and looked down at his own right hand. "Besides, I've already come this far."
"Having defiled the First Hokage's cells and thereby indirectly driven Tsunade away... wouldn't it be ridiculous to think about stopping now?"
Jiraiya opened his mouth, but found himself unable to say a single word. The warmth brought by the alcohol receded from his stomach, leaving only a cold numbness.
Indeed. When they had silently approved of or even supported Hashirama cell research back then, why hadn't they thought of Tsunade? Now that Konoha needed power, needed technology, needed to save its disadvantage, they were suddenly concerned about "respect for the dead"?
Orochimaru, conducting his experiments, wouldn't care. Sarutobi-sensei would agree. And Tsunade, the only one who would actually object, was no longer in Konoha.
So he, the least involved person, had nothing left to say.
Jiraiya slumped back into his chair, picked up the sake flask, and found it empty.
Watching his old teammate's disheartened appearance, Orochimaru inexplicably remembered something Hii Kōri had casually mentioned one night.
"'Many things aren't a matter of lacking the ability to research them. It's that once you take the first step and see what lies beyond the door, it's very hard to turn back. Curiosity, the thirst for knowledge, the desire for results, the costs already sunk—these things push you, drag you, make you go forward even when you know the abyss lies ahead, unable to resist taking a look. Until, time and time again, you cross the line and become a research monster who stops at nothing. Things like scientific ethics... there is still a need for them to exist.'"
"'Well, it seems neither Hii-kun nor I have any standing to say such things.'"
Now, looking at Jiraiya, then at himself, Orochimaru suddenly felt that Hii Kōri saw certain things with a damnably clear eye.
***
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