Shashasha! Shash!
Night had fallen, and rain pattered steadily across the rooftops. Droplets traced graceful arcs before shattering on impact. Konoha's lights shimmered like a distant mirage through the downpour.
Owl-like black shadows leaped from roof to roof—light gray tactical vests, short blades or straight swords sheathed on their backs. Many still carried the faint metallic scent of blood. Beneath their white masks, their eyes held solemn coldness that made villagers on the streets step aside without a word.
They crossed the lively main avenues and reached the quiet edge of the village, stopping before a building marked with the symbol for "Dark"—the headquarters of Konoha's ANBU.
Almost every ANBU operative had been summoned on emergency orders. The hall was packed but perfectly orderly and silent, the atmosphere heavy and somber, as if they had gathered for a funeral.
Hatake Kakashi stood among them.
A bandage wrapped his forehead, his brows tightly knit. His usual dead-fish eye was clouded with confusion.
Those explosive tags—who had placed them? Had it been Sandaime-sama?
Kakashi had never seen the strange black cat. All he witnessed was Orochimaru bursting from the ground only to be hurled through the air by the blasts detonating beneath his feet.
Though close enough to take some of the force, Kakashi had fared far better than Orochimaru. Even after releasing a defensive ninjutsu to blunt the shockwave, the sheer power had still torn off one of his arms.
Yet earlier, Sandaime-sama hadn't seemed to prepare anything like that…
Creak!
The heavy doors of the ANBU building swung open with a harsh scrape that shattered the silence.
Kakashi pushed aside his doubts, slipped on his mask, and looked up. Two figures emerged, one ahead of the other.
Sarutobi Hiruzen wore his red-and-white Hokage robes and hat. Beside him walked an elderly man in a black kimono, right arm and right eye bandaged. Narrow eyes and a scar on his chin gave him a distinctly gloomy air.
The founder and leader of Root. The man who controlled Konoha's darkness. The most powerful figure beneath the Hokage himself.
—Shimura Danzō.
"This emergency assembly is to capture Orochimaru, who slipped through our net during the earlier operation."
Hiruzen stepped forward, gaze sweeping across the masked operatives. His voice was calm and direct. "Reports confirm he is severely wounded. Given his condition, leaving the Land of Fire quickly will not be easy."
"Orochimaru's knowledge, intelligence, and techniques represent an irreplaceable asset to Konoha. I expect you to bring him back alive if at all possible."
"Should he defect beyond our borders, the blow to the village will be devastating. Therefore…"
He paused briefly before continuing. "We must outrun him before he crosses the border."
"Everyone—search with everything you have."
Hiruzen lifted his head, expression cold. Without another word he ordered, "Disperse!"
Shu! Shu!
The ANBU melted into black shadows and vanished. These hawks and hounds would hunt the cunning serpent across sky, earth, and water alike.
Once every operative had gone, Hiruzen turned toward the ANBU building.
As he passed Shimura Danzō, a mocking voice drifted into his ear.
"You really do cherish that beloved student of yours."
Hiruzen stopped. He lowered his head slightly; the shadow of his hat hid his face.
"A man like you actually 'slipped up.'" Danzō kept speaking. "I hear you rescued some Hyūga boy from Orochimaru's hands?"
They had been friends for decades. Hiruzen caught the implication instantly and let out a weary mental sigh.
"He's just a pitiful boy," Hiruzen replied, adding, "He belongs to the Hyūga branch family."
In other words: drop the thought.
No matter what experiments Orochimaru might have performed, a branch member bearing the Caged Bird could never be of use to Danzō.
Otherwise, given the pure Will of Fire the boy had displayed, Hiruzen would have reached out long ago—even if the child was talentless.
He could have placed an ordinary commoner in the academy as a teacher.
Unfortunately, the boy was not ordinary…
Hyūga branch members existed only as servants to the main family. They held no strategic value.
The main house could activate the secret seal at any moment and destroy the brain nerves of anyone marked by the Caged Bird.
Compared to that, Danzō's Tongue Root Seal—which merely paralyzed the body and silenced speech—was practically merciful.
"…"
Danzō faced the distant night, eyes closed. He seemed to abandon whatever scheme had crossed his mind. His tone returned to its usual cold detachment. "In any case, I will provide full assistance."
"For Konoha, I will spare no effort."
"…My apologies, then," Hiruzen glanced at him, voice even. "For putting you to so much trouble."
He walked past without another word and entered the building.
Danzō's barbs about personal feelings versus village interest were clear, and Hiruzen knew his old friend might once have had dealings with Orochimaru in the shadows.
But the instant Orochimaru chose defection…
Hiruzen understood that Danzō would do exactly as he claimed—exhaust every resource to eliminate the threat to Konoha.
The explosion that had nearly killed Orochimaru might even have been one of Danzō's secret contingencies.
That was why Hiruzen had always turned a blind eye to Danzō's smaller maneuvers. In the end, everything the man did was still for Konoha.
Just as the Hyūga boy had written, the great tree of Konoha needed roots that never saw sunlight if it was to grow strong.
But those roots must remain unseen.
After Hiruzen left, Danzō opened his eyes.
"Caw, caw."
A crow spiraled down and landed on his shoulder, dropping a small scroll from its beak into his waiting hand.
"…"
Danzō unfurled the scroll. Dense lines of Root's secret code filled the page.
It detailed the cleanup of the experimental base. Unfortunately, most of Orochimaru's equipment and records had been destroyed in the chain of explosive tags.
Blast-pattern analysis showed the tags had been planted throughout the entire underground pipe network. The base had been obliterated completely.
Those instruments had cost Danzō a fortune through special channels—some not even Root possessed.
"Was that snake the one who did it? Destroying everything rather than letting me have it?"
Danzō looked up, eyes dark with suspicion, but quickly dismissed the idea.
Orochimaru had lost an arm in the same blast. His modified body could regenerate it, yet with his chakra nearly exhausted there was no reason to stage such heavy injury.
Besides, Hiruzen's guilt and hesitation toward Orochimaru would never allow him to go for the kill like that.
Knowing Hiruzen as he did, Danzō suspected the old man probably believed the explosion had been his own doing.
"Then who?"
Danzō's brows drew tighter. He sensed an invisible hand quietly orchestrating every event from the shadows.
His mind turned to the sole surviving boy, but reason rejected it at once.
Such clean, traceless, ruthless methods—scheming against both Orochimaru and Hiruzen—could not possibly come from a fifteen-year-old.
Certainly not from an orphaned, timid Hyūga branch "failure."
"Damn it! Who is behind this?!"
Danzō crushed the scroll in his fist, loathing the helpless feeling of an unknown threat lurking unseen.
Whoever it was posed an extreme danger to Konoha—perhaps even greater than Orochimaru.
Shimura Danzō, the man called the Darkness of Shinobi, would never tolerate such a presence.
Kill the wrong person before letting the right one go free.
With that thought, he narrowed his eyes at the memory of the Hyūga branch boy. He pulled out another scroll, wrote a short coded message, and let the crow carry it away.
Just a worthless branch member. If he happened to die in some unfortunate "accident," no one would bat an eye.
Hundreds of kilometers from Konoha, deep in the forests of the Land of Fire.
Crack.
A dry branch snapped in the heart of the woods, startling birds sheltering from the rain. A figure staggered out of the shadows.
"Hah… hah!"
Orochimaru slumped against a tree, gasping. The metallic taste in his mouth came from blood bubbles bursting in his throat.
His left arm had been severed below the elbow; raw red flesh and white bone gleamed openly. Half his clothes were drenched in blood.
This was likely the worst, most life-threatening injury he had suffered since his body modifications began.
Anticipating this day, he had prepared a safe haven inside the Land of Fire: the Iburi clan.
They possessed the Smoke Transformation kekkei genkai, allowing their bodies to turn into smoke and slip inside others to control them. The fatal flaw was that wind would scatter the smoke and kill them.
Unable to stabilize the ability on their own, many clan members had died until Orochimaru helped them master it—granting them longer lifespans in return.
Their blood could heal wounds, so he kept them as living "blood packs."
Without the final barrage of explosive tags, he could have reached them even if injured by the old man.
"Damn it! Damn it! All because of that brat!!" Orochimaru's hoarse voice seethed with venom and fury.
He touched the scroll tucked against his chest.
At least the ancient secrets scroll was still safe.
If he could keep breaking the seals, more of the Ōtsutsuki clan's mysteries would be his.
He had also taken a piece of flesh from the Ōtsutsuki body. If he could perfect the Impure World Reincarnation Technique…
Right now, the only option was to have Manda perform the Reverse Summoning Technique so he could escape the Land of Fire safely.
But given that beast's personality, the moment it saw him heavily wounded it would try to swallow him whole.
And the White Snake Sage of Ryūchi Cave, along with her three giant subordinates—Tagitsuhime, Ichikishimahime, and Tagorihime—were not opponents to take lightly…
"Cough, cough!"
Orochimaru suddenly spat blood, cutting off his thoughts.
His vision blurred. The ringing in his ears grew louder. His sense of touch began to slip.
Twisted tree shadows looked like claws; vines seemed like snares. His body was shutting down.
The terror of death made him dig his fingers deep into the trunk until the moss in his palm turned to a slick green paste.
He still had to make that brat pay. He still had to grasp every truth in the world!
No matter what—he could not die here!
Just as Orochimaru steeled himself to use the Summoning Technique—
POOF!
A cloud of white smoke burst open. Orochimaru vanished from the spot.
Seconds later, a tall figure appeared—long white hair reaching his waist. Jiraiya had arrived.
"Reverse Summoning Technique?" Jiraiya frowned. "Orochimaru, what in the world…"
At the same moment, inside a vast cavern converted from natural rock. Stalactites hung like spikes from the ceiling.
Blue-green stone tiles carved with serpents covered the floor. Dark green phosphorescent flames flickered in wall niches. Blue-purple ores pulsed on the rock walls.
"Where…?"
Orochimaru opened his eyes, frowning at the familiar surroundings. "Ryūchi Cave?"
He had not summoned Manda—how had he been reverse-summoned here?
"Orochimaru."
Before he could process it, an ancient, ethereal voice reached him. He looked up instinctively.
A colossal white phosphorescent serpent coiled upon a stone throne.
The White Snake Sage—founder of Ryūchi Cave, a white-scaled serpent who had lived for over a thousand years. Her power was so vast Orochimaru could not even begin to measure it.
Normally she appeared as an elderly grandmother in white robes.
This was the first time Orochimaru had seen her true form. The serene aura had vanished, replaced by the foul stench rising from her jaws.
"How is that possible?"
The White Snake Sage fixed her amber serpent eyes on Orochimaru, her face showing a distinctly human expression of shock and uncertainty.
"Your fate… has actually been rewritten?"
Meanwhile, in Konoha, at the edge of the Hyūga clan grounds, inside a rundown house.
"Meow."
The soft cat cry mingled with the chirping of crickets. Hyūga Kumokawa, lying in bed, slowly opened his eyes.
"Finally gone."
He sat up, turned toward the calm night beyond the window, and touched the bandages around his neck. A faint smile curved his lips.
Such a severe, near-fatal wound—and in only a single day it had already healed most of the way.
The regenerative ability was not yet as extreme as Hashirama cells, but it was more than enough to erase a ninja's usual fragility.
And that was only one of the gifts this body had given him.
With that thought, Hyūga Kumokawa looked at the panel floating before his eyes.
[Name: Hyūga Kumokawa]
[Age: 15]
[Bloodline: Hyūga → Ōtsutsuki (5%)]
[Chakra Limit: D-rank → S-rank]
[Chakra Natures: Wind → Wind, Fire, Water, Earth, Lightning, Yin, Yang]
[Ninjutsu: …]
***
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