Konohagakure
The backyard buzzed with chaotic energy too young to appreciate the weight of the moment yet too excited not to celebrate. Rin's house, nestled at the edge of Konoha, had been transformed into a lively gathering spot, its modest yard strung with paper lanterns that glowed in the fading light of evening. Laughter and cheers erupted every few minutes as someone won—or lost—one of Gai's countless ridiculous challenges, and the smell of freshly grilled fish wafted through the air, courtesy of Rin's parents.
Rei stood near the snack table, popping a dumpling into her mouth as her eyes scanned the yard. She clapped and laughed loudly at Gai's latest challenge—an impromptu hopping-on-one-leg race against Obito—but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Inside, her thoughts churned like a storm, the weight of her last mission pressing down on her chest no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.
Don't think about it, she told herself, grabbing another dumpling and shoving it into her mouth. It's a party. Just have fun. Stop overthinking.
But no matter how hard she tried to force herself to relax, unease settled deep in her bones. Her fingers curled and uncurled at her sides, her knuckles raw from overexertion during training earlier that day. She couldn't feel the damage, not the sting of torn skin or the deep-set ache of strain—but she knew it was there. Just like always.
Arakawa warriors were trained to endure. To push past limits before those limits could push back. That was what her father always said, wasn't it? But her father wasn't here. Neither was her mother. They had been gone for years, their voices nothing more than echoes in the back of her mind.
Rei hated the way others looked at her sometimes, like they didn't trust her to stand on her own two feet. As if she hadn't proven herself over and over again. If anything, the mission had proven she was stronger than they ever gave her credit for.
She was fine.
Better than fine, even.
"HA! Is that all you've got, Obito?!" Gai's triumphant shout pulled her attention back to the party. She turned just in time to see the boy leap into the air, landing on one foot with a flourish as Obito stumbled to the ground, his balance lost mid-hop.
"You cheated!" Obito yelled, his voice indignant as he scrambled to his feet.
"That's the spirit, Obito!" Gai beamed, striking his signature pose. "The springtime of youth demands perseverance! Now try again!"
Rei snorted at their antics despite herself, leaning against the snack table as a small group of kids gathered around to watch the rematch. She could feel the tension in her chest easing slightly, but her fingers still itched for something to do, some way to burn off the restless energy that had been coiling in her muscles all day.
"Rei!" Anko's voice broke through the noise as the raven-haired girl bounded over, her usual smirk firmly in place.
"You're just standing there like some kind of loner. Come on, help me beat Genma at shuriken tossing! He's been bragging all week that he's unbeatable."
Rei raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a grin. "Unbeatable? Genma? That's rich."
"Exactly!" Anko crowed, grabbing her arm and dragging her toward the small crowd that had gathered around a makeshift target board on the other side of the yard. "We'll show him who's boss."
Rei threw herself into the game with reckless abandon, as she always did. Her first toss was wide, missing the bullseye by an embarrassing margin, but she just laughed it off, grabbing another shuriken and tossing it even harder. Her carelessness earned her some teasing from Genma, who snickered, "You're supposed to hit the target, Rei, not scare it."
"Oh, shut up, Genma," she shot back with a smirk, tossing another shuriken without even pausing to aim. "At least I'm not scared of a little competition."
Her next throw hit the target, though it was still far from perfect, but she didn't care. It wasn't about winning for her—it was about moving, doing something, anything, to keep her mind off the questions swirling in her head.
"You're just lucky you're cute, or you'd never get away with being this bad," Genma taunted, earning a round of laughter from the group.
"CUTE?!" Rei exclaimed, her voice rising in mock outrage. "You better watch your mouth, Genma, or I'll—"
"Or you'll what?" Genma interrupted, grinning. "Miss me like you missed the target?"
Rei didn't hesitate. She launched herself at him, tackling him to the ground in a blur of motion, her laughter cutting through the startled gasps of the other kids. Genma yelped, trying to scramble away, but Rei had him pinned before he could even think about escape.
"Take it back, Genma!" she demanded, her grin wide as she held him down.
"Never!" he shot back, struggling beneath her but unable to break free.
"You brought this on yourself!" Rei declared dramatically before ruffling his hair with both hands, much to the amusement of the onlookers.
From across the yard, Kakashi watched the scene unfold in silence, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. He hadn't participated in any of the games or challenges, opting instead to stand at the edges of the party, quietly observing.
His eyes flicked toward Rei as she wrestled with Genma, a faint furrow forming in his brow. She was laughing, her energy loud and vibrant, but he could see the cracks beneath her surface. The recklessness in her movements, the way she threw herself into everything without a second thought—it wasn't playfulness. It was something else.
She was trying to distract herself.
Kakashi's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned away, his grip on his arms tightening slightly. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Rei had always been like this—careless, impulsive, and utterly fearless. It wasn't his job to look after her. And yet...
The party carried on, loud and lively, but for Rei, the noise and laughter only served to dull the edges of her thoughts. She didn't want to think about her family or the mission or the look in Koji and Mayu's eyes. She didn't want to think about Kakashi, standing silently in the background like a shadow she couldn't shake.
So she didn't.
Instead, she grabbed another dumpling and threw herself into the next game with Anko, laughing louder than anyone else and ignoring the way her hands still trembled when they weren't holding something.
The sky above Konoha darkened to a deep navy, the first stars flickering into view as laughter and shouts filled the air. Rin's parents had disappeared inside to prepare more food, leaving the kids to their games and chatter. The faint glow of the paper lanterns swayed with the evening breeze, casting everything in soft, golden light.
Obito, who had spent most of the evening alternating between fumbling challenges and loudly defending his honor, suddenly hopped up onto a small wooden crate near the corner of the yard. He stood tall—or at least as tall as his short frame would allow—his chest puffed out like he'd just climbed Hokage Rock.
"Hey! Hey, everyone! Listen up!" he shouted, waving his arms to get their attention.
Some kids groaned good-naturedly, others giggled, but Rin clapped her hands, smiling warmly as she called, "Quiet down! Let Obito speak!"
Rei, standing with Anko and Genma near the snack table, tilted her head slightly, her lips twitching into the faintest of smirks. Typical Obito, always loud and determined to make everything into some grand, heroic moment. She'd known him long enough to understand that his enthusiasm wasn't just for show—it was who he was. And as much as she'd laugh at his dramatic gestures, she couldn't bring herself to dislike him for it.
"He's gonna fall off that crate," Rei muttered under her breath, taking a sip of her apple juice.
Anko snorted. "If he doesn't trip over his own feet first."
"Careful," Rei replied dryly. "He might hear you and drag you into one of his speeches about teamwork."
Not that Rei minded Obito's antics. If anything, she found them refreshingly genuine, even if they tended to border on over-the-top. She didn't have it in her to be that openly hopeful all the time—especially not now, with everything weighing on her. But Obito? He made it look easy. Too easy.
Obito cleared his throat dramatically, raising his juice box like it was the finest sake in all of Konoha. "I just wanted to say—tonight isn't just about celebrating Rin and me finally joining Team Minato!" His voice cracked slightly with emotion, but he powered through, his face flushed with pride. "This is about all of us. We're going to be the strongest generation of shinobi in the whole village! No—in the whole world!"
A few kids whooped and cheered in response, their energy infectious. Even Rei found herself smiling faintly, though she quickly masked it by taking another bite of a rice ball.
"Team Minato," Obito declared, raising his fist triumphantly, "is going to be unstoppable! We'll show everyone what we're made of!" His wide grin faltered slightly as his gaze landed on Kakashi, who still leaned against the far fence, watching silently with his arms crossed.
The look on Kakashi's face was unreadable, but Obito's grin quickly shifted into a scowl. "Unless, of course, someone decides to act all high and mighty and drag us down!" he added, his voice rising with frustration.
Rei snorted, shaking her head. "There it is," she muttered to Anko, who giggled in response.
Kakashi didn't respond at first, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at Obito. After a long, deliberate pause, he finally said, "If you spent less time shouting and more time training, you might actually stand a chance of keeping up." His tone was cool and dismissive, as always, but it carried just enough bite to infuriate Obito.
"What?!" Obito shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Kakashi. "What did you just say?!"
"You heard me," Kakashi replied, his tone indifferent as he straightened and turned toward the gate, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation.
"You think you're so much better than everyone else, don't you?" Obito yelled, hopping down from the crate and stomping toward Kakashi. "You're not better! You're just an arrogant jerk who doesn't know how to be part of a team!"
Rei watched the scene unfold, her arms crossed as she leaned back against the snack table. Part of her was tempted to step in, to make some sardonic comment about how the two boys needed to get over their rivalry already. But something about Kakashi's stoic expression stopped her. He wasn't ignoring Obito because he didn't care. He was ignoring him because... well, Rei wasn't entirely sure why. But it was more than arrogance.
"You're going to ruin everything, Kakashi!" Obito continued, stopping just a few feet away from him. "You're—you're impossible to work with!"
Kakashi glanced at him briefly, then turned to walk away. "Good luck with that," he said simply, his tone flat.
The tension in the air was palpable, and Rei could feel the stares from the other kids as they watched the exchange in awkward silence. She glanced at Anko, who raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Someone's gotta say something before Obito explodes," Anko whispered.
Rei shrugged, grabbing another rice ball. "Not my problem."
But before anyone could step in, Rin moved forward, placing a gentle hand on Obito's shoulder. "Obito," she said softly, her voice pleading. "Let it go. Tonight's supposed to be fun. Don't let Kakashi get to you."
For a moment, Obito looked like he might keep going, but Rin's words seemed to calm him. He sighed heavily, stepping back and muttering something under his breath before returning to the group.
As the tension eased and the kids returned to their games, Rei grabbed a drink from the table and wandered toward the edge of the yard. She wasn't in the mood to get dragged into any more chaos, and she could feel her energy waning from all the activity earlier. But her attempt to escape the crowd was interrupted when she heard a familiar voice.
"Hey, Rei," Yugao called hesitantly, stepping toward her with a small, nervous smile.
Rei blinked, startled by the approach. She hadn't spoken to Yugao in... how long had it been? Months? Years? Yugao had always been quiet, but there had been a time when they'd gotten along well enough. Until, of course, Yugao's mother had decided that Rei wasn't a good influence.
"Yugao," Rei said plainly, taking a sip of her drink. "What's up?"
Yugao hesitated, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "I just... It's been a while," she said softly, her voice almost drowned out by the noise of the party. "I wanted to say hi. But my mom always..." Her voice trailed off awkwardly.
Rei raised an eyebrow, her tone casual. "Always told you to stay away from me?" she finished bluntly.
Yugao flushed, looking embarrassed. "She just... she was worried, you know? About... stuff."
Rei gave a short laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, I get it. Don't worry about it." She shrugged, her expression neutral but her voice carrying a faint edge. "Parents are weird like that."
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke, the awkward silence stretching between them. Then Yugao smiled nervously. "It's good to see you, though," she said softly. "You're... doing okay, right?"
"Of course," Rei replied quickly, her grin sharp and almost defiant. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Yugao smiled faintly at Rei's response, though her eyes lingered on her as if searching for something. "I'm glad you're okay," she said softly, her tone genuine despite her hesitation. It was clear she wanted to say more, but when Rei didn't offer anything else, Yugao gave a small nod and excused herself, walking back toward a group of girls laughing near the bench.
Rei exhaled sharply, her forced grin slipping the moment Yugao's back was turned. Why wouldn't I be? It was a good question—one she didn't want to dwell on. The last thing she needed was someone like Yugao poking at her feelings, especially tonight.
"Rei!" Obito's voice rang out suddenly, startling her from her thoughts. She turned to see him barreling toward her, an enormous grin plastered across his face. "I need your help!"
Rei raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the snack table. "What now, Obito?" she asked, her tone teasing but laced with exasperation.
Obito skidded to a stop in front of her, hunching over with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "Kakashi," he said between gasping breaths. "Someone—someone has to tell him the truth. He's being a jerk"
"What else is new?" Rei replied, rolling her eyes.
"No, I mean it!" Obito straightened, his expression earnest now. "He's always acting all cool and distant and acting like he's better than the rest of us. I swear, one day I'm gonna wipe that smug look off his face!"
"Good luck with that," Rei said dryly, crossing her arms.
"I'm serious!" Obito shot back, his voice rising. "Come on, Rei, you've gotta back me up here! You think he's annoying too, right?"
Rei tilted her head, pretending to consider the question. "Hmm. He's annoying, sure," she said with a smirk.
"But you're not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself, Obito."
Obito stared at her, momentarily flabbergasted, before quickly recovering with a sheepish grin. "Yeah, okay, maybe I get a little loud sometimes. But only because I care, you know?" His grin softened slightly as he added, "You're lucky you're cool enough to get it."
Rei snorted, shaking her head. "Right. I'm just the pinnacle of cool."
Obito's smile widened, and for a moment, it looked like he might say something else—something more—but before he could, Rin called out to them from across the yard.
"Rei! Obito!" Gai's booming voice cut through the chatter of the yard like a thunderclap, startling both of them. Obito's mouth snapped shut mid-thought, his expression shifting from nervous to curious.
Rei turned, watching as Gai bounded toward them with his usual overwhelming enthusiasm, a confident grin plastered across his face. He was practically glowing, his energy somehow infectious even as it teetered on the edge of ridiculousness.
"Ah-ha!" Gai declared dramatically, striking a pose as he reached them. "If it isn't the unstoppable duo of Rei and Obito! Truly, a pairing bursting with youthful spirit! But tell me—how sharp is the flame of your determination tonight?"
Rei sighed, crossing her arms. "Gai, what are you even talking about?"
"What I'm talking about," Gai said, leaning in close as though sharing an important secret, "is a challenge. A test of strength and spirit! You've bested Genma in shuriken tossing, but can you best me in the art of sparring?"
Rei blinked, staring at him as though he'd just suggested they duel for the fate of the universe. "You want me to spar with you? Now?"
"Precisely!" Gai exclaimed, his grin widening. "I've already defeated Obito in the ways of youthful combat, so you are the only one who can truly challenge my might!"
Rei glanced at Obito, who looked thoroughly flustered but didn't contradict Gai's claim.
"I don't know..." Rei started, but Gai's grin faltered for a fraction of a second, and something about his unshakable confidence made her pause. She could feel the restless energy bubbling beneath her skin, the need to keep moving, to push herself, to distract herself.
Sparring with Gai was ridiculous—but maybe it was exactly what she needed.
"Fine," she said finally, smirking as she stepped forward. "But don't cry when I wipe the floor with you, Gai."
"Cry?!" Gai exclaimed. "The springtime of youth knows no tears! Only victory!"
He darted toward the center of the yard, motioning for the others to gather around. The sparring ring was hastily constructed—a patch of grass cleared near the lantern-lit fence, marked by stray stones and the eager spectating of the other kids.
"I've got this," Rei muttered under her breath as she stepped into the ring.
"Go easy on him!" Obito called from the edge, a playful grin lighting up his face.
Rei grinned back. "Yeah, right."
Gai, for all his dramatics, started the match with a bow, his movements surprisingly elegant for someone so boisterous. Rei mirrored him with a quick nod, her grin sharp as she crouched into a ready position.
"Begin!" someone shouted, and the sparring started in a flurry of motion.
Rei lunged first, her movements fast and aggressive, unrelenting as she pushed Gai back. She wasn't holding back—not even a little. Each strike came heavier than the last, her fists swinging and her legs twisting into sharp kicks that forced Gai to dodge or block with calculated precision.
But while Gai adjusted with fluid control, Rei pushed forward recklessly, her attacks powerful but chaotic, fueled by an energy she didn't want to admit was born from frustration rather than focus. She was fast—faster than most kids her age—but her movements lacked discipline, leaving openings Gai could easily exploit.
"Whoa, Rei!" Anko laughed from the sidelines. "Did you have too much sugar or something?"
"Or maybe she's just trying to kill me!" Gai added mid-dodge, his grin faltering as he narrowly avoided a high kick aimed for his shoulder.
"Stop talking and focus!" Rei snapped, her tone sharper than usual.
The group of watching kids exchanged glances, a few laughing nervously at the intensity of the match. Even Obito looked worried, his eyes flickering from Rei's relentless attacks to Gai's increasingly defensive stance.
But Kakashi, leaning against the fence just beyond the crowd, didn't laugh. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Rei's movements, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
"She's going to slip up," he muttered under his breath.
"What's that, Kakashi?" Genma asked, glancing at him curiously.
"She's being careless," Kakashi replied, his tone cold and measured. "She's fast, but she's leaving openings everywhere."
His words weren't loud, but they carried enough weight to reach Rei, who froze mid-attack. Her narrowed eyes flicked toward him before she pushed forward again, her movements growing sharper, harder.
It didn't take long for the match to escalate further. Gai, ever the exuberant challenger, managed to deflect one of Rei's kicks, sending her stumbling back slightly as he grinned triumphantly.
"HA! That's more like it, Rei!" he declared. "But you'll have to do better than that to defeat me!"
Rei gritted her teeth, her frustration mounting as the crowd cheered for Gai's counter. She didn't like feeling cornered—not now, not ever. Her muscles tensed as she prepared to lunge forward again, but Kakashi's voice cut through the noise before she could move.
"Try aiming instead of flailing," he said flatly.
Rei snapped her gaze toward him, her chest tightening as his words hit a nerve. "Excuse me?" she replied sharply, stepping out of the ring entirely.
The crowd fell silent, all eyes shifting toward her as she marched straight toward Kakashi, her expression burning with frustration.
"If you've got so much to say, why don't you step in and show me how it's done?" Rei challenged, her voice carrying enough bite to silence even Gai's laughter.
Kakashi didn't flinch, his narrowed eye meeting hers with cold indifference. "Don't be ridiculous," he said simply, his tone clipped.
"Who's being ridiculous?" Rei shot back, her fists clenched. "You think you're so much better than me, don't you? Always standing there, judging everyone like you're perfect."
"I'm not perfect," Kakashi replied coolly. "But at least I know how to control my movements."
The air around them grew heavy as the tension mounted, both their voices cutting through the otherwise lively atmosphere of the party. Rin stood on the sidelines, her gaze darting nervously between them, her lips parting as though she wanted to step in but couldn't find the words.
Even Obito, who normally jumped at any opportunity to challenge Kakashi, stayed quiet, his wide eyes fixed on Rei as she stepped closer to Kakashi, her frustration boiling over.
"Control your movements?" Rei repeated bitterly, her voice rising. "At least I don't waste my time standing around criticizing everyone else! You act like you care about the rules so much, but really? You just use them as an excuse to push people away."
"That's enough." Kakashi's voice was low but sharp, his eyes hardening as he met her glare head-on.
"Make me stop," Rei snapped, her tone defiant.
For a moment, the two stared each other down, their animosity tangible, and the crowd of kids watching seemed frozen in place, unsure whether to intervene.
The silence was heavy as Obito stepped into the space between Rei and Kakashi. His usual exuberance was tempered by something rare—seriousness. There was no grin on his face, no dramatic flourish as he moved to stand in the middle of what had become an impromptu battlefield. Instead, he looked at Rei, then Kakashi, his gaze shifting between them like he was trying to figure out how to defuse a bomb.
"Enough," Obito said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension like a sharp blade.
Rei stared at him, her anger momentarily faltering. "What are you doing, Obito?" she demanded, though her tone wasn't as sharp as before.
"Someone has to say it," Obito replied, his voice steady but tinged with frustration. He turned to Kakashi, his arms crossed as he spoke. "You act like you're so much better than everyone else, but all you do is push people away. What's your problem, Kakashi? Why do you hate us so much?"
Kakashi didn't flinch, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't hate anyone," he said coolly.
"Sure," Obito countered, stepping closer. "You don't hate us—you're just too busy being perfect to bother with any of us."
"It's not about being perfect," Kakashi replied, his tone still calm but carrying an edge of steel. "It's about doing things the right way. Something you never seem to understand."
"Doing things the right way?" Obito repeated, his voice rising. "You mean standing around and judging everyone else while pretending you're better than them? Is that the 'right way,' Kakashi?"
Rei watched the exchange with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. She wasn't used to seeing Obito this serious—this deliberate—and part of her wanted to step in, to defend him, but something about his expression stopped her.
Obito turned to Rei, his brow furrowed. "And you," he said, his voice softening but still carrying weight. "You're not off the hook either, Rei."
Rei blinked, caught off guard. "Me? What are you talking about?"
Obito hesitated, his gaze dropping briefly before he looked at her again. "You act like nothing gets to you, like you're totally fine no matter what happens. But you're not fine. I can see it. We all can."
Rei stiffened, her fists clenching. "What's your point, Obito?"
"My point is that you and Kakashi are both the same," Obito said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "You act like you're so different, like you're on opposite sides of everything. But the truth is, you're both just scared. You push people away because you don't want them to see what's really going on. You're scared of letting anyone in."
Rei's breath caught, her chest tightening as his words hit her like a physical blow. She didn't respond—couldn't respond—and when she looked at Kakashi, she saw the faintest flicker of something in his eyes.
Obito pressed on, his voice growing quieter but no less impactful. "You both care about the same things—you just show it in different ways. You want to protect people, but you don't trust them enough to let them protect you. That's why you fight all the time. You're not angry at each other—you're angry at yourselves."
The crowd of kids watching stayed frozen, their wide eyes darting between Obito, Rei, and Kakashi. Even Rin, who usually jumped in to mediate conflicts, stayed silent, her gaze flickering nervously but filled with quiet understanding.
Rei stared at Obito, her breathing uneven as she tried to process his words. She wasn't used to this—being called out, being seen. And part of her hated it. Part of her wanted to yell at him, to shove him away like she always did when someone got too close. But the other part of her—the part she didn't like to acknowledge—knew he was right.
Kakashi didn't speak, his expression guarded as his eyes flicked toward Rei briefly before shifting back to Obito. He didn't argue, didn't counter. He just stood there, his posture stiff, his silence louder than any words he could've said.
"Obito..." Rin finally spoke, her voice soft but trembling slightly. "That's enough."
Obito turned to her, his expression finally softening. "It's not enough, Rin," he said quietly. "Not until they figure it out."
Rei couldn't take it anymore. She turned on her heel and stormed away from the group, her steps quick and purposeful as she made her way toward the gate.
"Rei, wait!" Obito called after her, but she didn't stop.
"Let her go, Obito," Kakashi said, his voice low but firm.
Obito turned to him, his expression filled with disbelief. "Let her go? That's your solution? Just—just let her walk away?"
"She needs space," Kakashi replied simply, turning back toward the fence as the crowd slowly began to disperse.
Rei's feet hit the ground hard as she walked, her steps fast and unrelenting. The sound of the party behind her grew quieter with each step, until it was nothing more than a faint hum in the distance. Her chest felt tight, her muscles tense, her mind racing with everything Obito had said.
She hated that he was right. She hated that he'd seen through her so easily, that he'd spoken words she hadn't even wanted to think about.
But more than anything, she hated herself for caring. For letting it get to her.
She didn't know where she was going—she just wanted to get away. Away from Obito's words, from Kakashi's silence, from Rin's worried glances. Away from all of it.
When she reached the training grounds, she stopped, her body still trembling with frustration.
And that's when she saw him.
Rei froze. Her breath hitched, and the tension in her chest coiled tighter as her eyes met his unmistakable yellow gaze. Orochimaru stood at the edge of the training grounds, his pale, serpentine features bathed in the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the trees. He wasn't moving—just standing there as if he'd been waiting for her all along.
The lingering frustration and turmoil in her chest transformed into something colder, sharper. Her fists clenched by her sides, her knuckles aching from overuse, though she couldn't feel the pain. She wasn't afraid of him, not really, but something about his presence made her hesitate.
"A rather lonely night to be walking alone, don't you think?" Orochimaru's voice was smooth like silk, laced with amusement. The words seemed to dance on the air, unsettling in their calmness.
Rei glared at him, her fists tightening as she stepped closer. "What do you want?" she demanded. Her voice trembled, though whether it was from anger or residual frustration, she didn't care to figure out.
Orochimaru tilted his head slightly, his smile widening just a fraction—a gesture that seemed more predatory than anything. "The better question, my dear, is what you want," he said, his tone low but deliberate.
Rei bristled at the comment, her anger bubbling to the surface again. "Don't start with me," she snapped. "I don't have time for your games. Just say whatever cryptic thing you're planning and leave me alone."
Orochimaru chuckled softly, the sound low and unsettling. "Always so strong-willed, aren't you?" he mused, his gaze flickering over her like he was studying her movements, her stance—every detail she tried to conceal. "But strength alone won't answer the questions I suspect are eating away at you."
She stiffened at his words, her chest tightening involuntarily. She hated how easily he saw through her.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she countered defiantly, though her voice lacked the conviction she wanted.
Orochimaru's smile didn't falter. "No? Then why are you here, at the training grounds, long after everyone else has retired for the evening? Why are you storming away from your friends, your allies, as though the company they offer isn't enough?"
Rei stared at him, her jaw tightening as she tried to find something—anything—to say in response. But he hit too close to the truth, cutting through the walls she'd spent years building.
"I don't need answers from you," she said finally, her voice sharp but wavering at the edges.
"And yet, here you are," Orochimaru replied smoothly, his smile gaining a sharper edge. "Asking the wrong questions, seeking guidance in a village that only knows how to keep secrets. You know they won't tell you what you want to know, don't you?"
Rei felt her chest constrict, her frustration mounting as his words struck deeper than she wanted them to. She hated that he was right. She hated the way his voice twisted the things she'd buried in her thoughts—things she didn't dare say out loud.
"I want... answers," she said after a long pause, her voice quiet but filled with resolve. Her fists unclenched slightly, her body tense but steady as she met his gaze. "Real answers. If I wanted them... where would I start?"
Orochimaru's smile widened into something sharper, something more triumphant. He took a slow step forward, his movements deliberate but unthreatening, like a serpent sliding closer to its prey.
"You're finally asking the right questions," he murmured, his tone low and almost melodic. There was something in his eyes—something glinting with satisfaction, as though he'd been waiting for this moment far longer than she could imagine.
Rei's heart pounded in her chest, but she refused to let it show. She stood her ground, straightening her back as she stared him down. Whatever he had to offer, she would take it. She didn't care about consequences—not tonight.
Orochimaru gestured toward the darkened path leading deeper into the training grounds, his pale fingers curling slightly as he beckoned her. "Walk with me, Rei," he said simply, his voice like a whisper that drowned out everything else around her.
For a moment, Rei hesitated, her fists tightening by her sides again. She thought about Obito's words from earlier, the way he'd called her out so easily. She thought about Kakashi's cold dismissal, Rin's worried glances, and the ever-present weight of Takeshi's condition.
And then she took a step forward.