The two days that followed passed in deceptive calm. Scouts fanned out across River Country's green fields, returning with little more than trampled grass and abandoned campsites. No sign of Sand ambushes. No fresh tracks. It was as though our enemies had melted back into the desert, waiting.
My team had been running perimeter patrols during that lull, each mission bringing back more small but steady growth. Guy returned with mud still clinging to his clothes and a grin that nearly split his face in two. Asuma grumbled, but his eyes were bright from the thrill of having responsibility. Kurenai was steady as stone, quiet but sure. Even Renji, the Hyūga I had assigned to oversee them, admitted they were sharpening quickly under the weight of real duty.
Reinforcements arrived as well, but they were thin. Barely three hundred, most of them fresh-faced genin and worn-down, veteran chunin. Not nearly enough to fill the gaps our losses had carved, and no commander arrived to replace me with that group. For a moment, things looked grim, but that afternoon, Orochimaru arrived.
He did not come with fanfare or arrogance the way Danzo would have. He simply appeared in camp, pale as moonlight and golden eyes that cut across the tents and shinobi like scalpels. He unsettled people without trying, conversations falling silent as he passed. Even the veterans stiffened when those slit-pupiled eyes lingered their way.
By the evening, he had already bent the command tent to his rhythm. Maps had been rearranged, scouts reassigned, priorities realigned. His control was subtle, coiling, and late that night, when most of the camp had quieted under the stars, a runner appeared at my tent.
"Orochimaru-sama requests your presence," the messenger said, bowing.
I sighed, pushing away my half-finished notes. Of course he did. After assuring my team that it was just a formality with transferring command, I headed to the command tent. The inside glowed with lanternlight as I slipped inside and found it empty aside from Orochimaru . He was sitting at the central table; his long fingers laced under his chin. His eyes tracked me as though he were cataloguing every movement.
"Uncle Snake," I greeted lightly, offering him a half-smile. "You've been rearranging the furniture."
One dark brow arched, though his lips did not quite form a smile. "Akari Sarutobi. Still irreverent, I see."
"Still calculating, I see," I countered smoothly, settling into the chair across from him. "Some things don't change."
A faint hiss of amusement slipped from him. "Perhaps. But you… you've changed. You held this camp together in chaos. Few could have managed as much."
Compliments from Orochimaru were dangerous things, and I knew it. Still, I tilted my head, feigning playfulness. "Careful. If you keep flattering me, Uncle Snake, I might think you actually like me."
His golden eyes gleamed, unreadable. "What I like," he said slowly, "is results. And you've produced them. But results beg questions. Tell me, Akari... what exactly are you capable of?"
There it was. I kept my smile, though inside, I sighed. "That depends on the situation."
He chuckled softly, almost indulgently. "Deflecting already. Sensible, but unsatisfying."
"You've known me long enough to realize I don't put all my cards on the table," I replied. "Not even for family friends."
For a moment, the tent was silent but for the faint crackle of the lantern. Then Orochimaru leaned back, his gaze never leaving mine. "Very well. Let us limit ourselves to what I already know. A walking colossus of lava. The Flying Thunder God technique, in some crude but effective form. Not trivial feats for one so… young."
I only shrugged, letting the silence answer for me.
His voice dropped, his words curling like smoke. "Would you be confident leading a direct assault on the Sand's camp with those abilities?"
I met his gaze squarely. "Yes. I would." But I lifted a hand slightly before he could continue. "On one condition, Uncle Snake."
His brow arched again, though faint curiosity glimmered in his eyes. "Condition?"
"If I do this, you owe me a personal favor. One of my choosing, when the time comes."
There was a pause that was long enough for the air between us to grow taut. Then Orochimaru's lips curved into the barest semblance of a smile, though it carried the same chill as his voice. "How very like you; always securing something for yourself. Very well, Akari. A favor it shall be."
"With a teacher like Tsunade-sama, I'm sure you understand why," I retorted with a smirk, letting my gaze linger on his expression.
He always wove his bargains with threads unseen, yet I did not recoil from the thought. If he had designs, then I would meet them with my own. I did not plan to settle down or follow the normal routine after the war, and he still had not crossed my bottom line at this point.
"I do," he replied with a smirk. "I will call for your team once we locate the Sand campgrounds."
"No, my team is not ready to join something like this. If you want me to lead a force to strike at the heart of the Sand army, I want it to be small and elite. I can guarantee my own life if they can just assist with my extraction. Rasa won't be in a condition to put up much of a fight yet, so unless they unleash their Jinchuriki, I should be able to deal a crippling blow to them. If it's not to your satisfaction, consider it my favor," I said coldly.
"If that is what you preferred, but my intention had been to send a larger force. It would be good for your future as Sarutobi-sensei would like," he explained with practiced ease.
"I don't play my father's games and politics bore me. If you think I'll ever sit behind a desk and push papers for a living, then you clearly don't know me," I retorted.
"No, that does not sound like you. Very well... I will call for you when we've located the Sand encampment," he replied then dismissed me with a flick of his fingers.
I rose with the nod of my head then left without another word. If things were still playing out as they should, Orochimaru should still be wanting to try for the Hokage position after the war. With my double identity as Hiruzen's daughter and Tsunade's student, I would be a large obstacle for him if I entered the campaign, especially with an impressive war record. The position of Hokage was overrated to me with far too much work and little real power; it would be smarter to just focus on myself and a few key individuals if I wanted to steer future events the way I wanted.
The days that followed slipped into a strange rhythm, lighter than I would have expected after so much bloodshed. The memory of me holding the Kazekage at bay had spread through the camp like wildfire, whispered from cot to cot in the medical tents and around the evening cookfires. Add in Orochimaru's presence on top of that, the pale Sannin himself, and the camp's mood began to steady. Even the greenest genin carried themselves with a little more pride, as if standing taller might make them worthy of fighting under a legend's shadow.
Kurenai and I spent most of our time in the medical tent, though the atmosphere there was no longer as suffocating. The wounded still filled the cots, but the worst of the bleeding had been stanched, and thanks to Katsuyu's healing, many were already mending. We worked side by side, ensuring that those going back to Kohona were stable enough to survive the journey. The silence we shared was no longer exhaustion or tension; it carried something softer, something that I could not quite put into words.
The boys, meanwhile, had been reassigned back to morgue duty. While they were not excited about it, I promised an escort mission once the wounded were ready to travel. Still, it was not enough to keep Asuma truly busy, and he began to grow restless. He had been switching empty canteens that he found around camp and filled them with Duy's pickling brine as well as setting up a few trip wires that would cause things to fall when disturbed. I only found out about that because Guy, too honest for his own good, would burst into the medical tent to confess the crime as soon as he was done assisting him.
Duy and Guy were back to leading the cult of exercise during their off hours, much to the new genins horrors. Early in the mornings and late into the evenings, several hundred genin were put through physical training that none of them could have imagined. It may have been simple laps, speed drills, and basic taijutsu forms, but those were skills that could save them one day.
And me? I kept up appearances during the day while my clones grinded away the nights as I worked on creating new a Kekkei Genkai. Scorch could not be used anytime soon, so I needed a new trick that is I could pull out if something went wrong.
My focus this time was on forming the Boil Release. I already had experience fusing Fire chakra with other elements, so I figured that I could sort it out fairly quickly while also drawing people away from the idea of me having Scorch Release. The fact that I could end up facing another user of two elemental Kekkei Genkai might have also played into my decision; after all, it would be a chance to compare my techniques against someone with a clan's legacy behind them.
I knew Orochimaru would find the Sand camp. He was too patient and cunning to let such a prize slip through his fingers. So, I poured myself into my work and training while he did the leg work.
At night, the campfires burned brighter than before, voices carrying across the River Country plains. Some of the shinobi sang. Others traded stories, even jokes. It was the sort of fragile cheer that comes from surviving when you had not expected to. I would listen from a distance, a quiet smile tugging at me despite myself. The calm would not last, I knew that, but for now, the camp was holding together, and that was enough.
Several nights after Orochimaru joined the camp, the air inside our tent grew heavy before the pale-skinned Sannin even stepped inside, his eyes serpent-like scanning the room. My team stiffened. Even Guy's endless energy seemed to dim for a moment in the presence of this particular Sannin.
"Akari," Orochimaru said smoothly, his voice carrying both amusement and command, "the Sand's main camp has been located. You will be leading the strike team. Be ready to leave within the hour."
I inclined my head, careful to keep my face unreadable. "Understood."
Behind me, Asuma practically jumped to his feet. "Finally! A real mission! About time I get out there too!"
The corner of Orochimaru's mouth curved in a subtle smirk, and he let his gaze linger on me before slipping out of the tent as quietly as he had entered. He knew exactly what kind of trouble he had stirred. Asuma was just like Nawaki back during the last war, not thinking about the real dangers that came with the battlefield.
I turned back to my brother, my voice cutting sharper than I intended. "No. The team stays here."
"What? That's not fair! You can't keep treating us like kids forever, Akari."
I held his eyes, refusing to waver. "And you can't keep acting like one. If you want to join a mission like this, you need to be a jonin at least, and you aren't even a chunin!"
The words landed like a slap. Asuma flushed, caught between shame and indignation, then stormed out, the tent flap rattling behind him.
Guy scrambled up next, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "I'll go after him. He's just… really excited." Without waiting for my answer, he bolted after Asuma, a blur of green in the night.
I let out a slow breath and shifted my gaze to Duy. His expression was calm, but the flicker of worry was there all the same. "Please keep an eye on both of them," I said quietly.
He nodded once, firmly. "Of course, Akari-sama."
The tent felt suddenly still after Asuma stormed out, Guy trailing after him with a worried call, and Duy slipping out with a bow at my request to watch over them. Their voices faded into the camp noise outside, leaving only me and Kurenai in the quiet dimness.
I turned back to my gear, confirming that I had everything I would need, aware of her gaze on me. She had not moved since the others left, arms crossed tightly as if bracing herself.
"You didn't have to be that harsh," she said at last, her voice low but steady. "I know they're not ready. We're not ready... but Asuma's still your brother and wants to make you proud."
I glanced over at her, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "You think I don't know that? That's why I said no. I'd rather have him angry at me than bury him tomorrow."
Her eyes softened at that, though her frown lingered. I reached for one of my pouches, securing it to my belt. "Besides," I added lightly, "if I let him come, I'd be too busy worrying about him to focus. He'd slow me down."
Kurenai gave a small, incredulous huff. "You always have to say things like that. Do you enjoy being impossible?"
I straightened and shot her a teasing grin. "A little. You get this look when you're annoyed with me. I can't resist."
Her cheeks flushed faintly, though she covered it with an exasperated shake of her head. "You're insufferable."
"And yet, you're still here... talking to me," I replied, the words softer than I intended.
That silenced her. She shifted, looking at me with something unspoken in her eyes, something that tightened my chest more than any mission ever had. For a heartbeat, it felt like the walls of the tent were closing in, pressing us closer together.
I broke the tension with a playful shrug, checking the last strap on my gear. "Don't look so serious. It's just another mission. You'll wear yourself out worrying about me all the time. This is only the beginning now that I've shown off my real strength."
Her voice caught slightly when she answered, quieter now. "You make it sound so simple. Like nothing could touch you."
I did not correct her. I did not tell her that the only thing that could rattle me was standing right in front of me, her. Instead, I smiled and slipped my pack over my shoulder. "That's because nothing will."
Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but she held back. I turned toward the tent flap, pausing just long enough to meet her gaze one last time. The words we never said hung between us, heavy and sharp.
"Take care of the others while I'm gone," I said, my voice deliberately light. "If they give you trouble, you can tell them I'll deal with them when I get back."
And with that, I pushed past the flap before either of us could say what we really wanted to. The night air was sharp when I stepped from the tent, the camp still buzzing faintly despite the late hour. A cluster of shinobi had already gathered near the command tent, lightly armored and equipped, faces shadowed by the torchlight. My eyes swept over them, recognizing each one.
Renji Hyuga stood tall among them, posture rigid as ever, his pale eyes steady. He inclined his head with quiet respect. "Sarutobi-sama. An honor to fight beside you directly at last. I trust your leadership."
Next to him, Daichi Uchiha stood with his arms folded, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth. His dark eyes flicked over me with an air of appraisal. "I'll admit, I was skeptical at first," he said, voice smooth but carrying a subtle edge. "Stories of a jonin so young holding off the Kazekage? Exaggerations, I thought. But if half of it is true… well, I expect this mission will prove enlightening... for me, as much as for the Sand."
Arrogance radiated from him, but it was the kind that was born from the confidence in his bloodline. I gave him a measured look, meeting his gaze head-on, and let my lips curl into a faint smile. "Then I'll try not to disappoint, Daichi-san."
On the other side of the group stood Chōsuke, broad-shouldered, scarred, his hands worn from too many years of battle. Unlike the others, his smile was open and earnest. "Lady Akari," he said, his voice carrying warmth that cut through the tension. "When word spread you stood against the Kazekage, people here stopped talking about dying and started talking about living. That matters more than any jutsu."
I blinked at that, surprised, before bowing my head slightly. "Thank you, Chōsuke. I'll do my best to keep earning that faith."
From within the command tent, Orochimaru emerged, robes flowing, eyes glinting like a serpent's in the torchlight. He carried a sealed scroll in his pale hand. When he extended it to me, his expression was curiously soft.
"This contains everything you'll need," he said, his voice smooth, deliberate. "Maps, scouting notes, approach routes. We believe their camp is still recovering, though appearances can deceive. Do not underestimate them." His golden eyes lingered on me a heartbeat longer than necessary before his lips curved in that familiar, unnerving way. "Good fortune, Akari. Your success is my success."
I accepted the scroll with both hands, offering a polite bow. "We'll bring good news back, Uncle Snake. You'll see."
A ripple of subdued amusement passed through the group at the title, though Orochimaru's smirk merely deepened as he turned back toward the tent, his voice carrying like silk on the breeze. "Then I look forward to your return."
I tucked the scroll into my pouch and turned back to the strike team. Their eyes were steady, and their faith clear. The weight of their trust pressed down as much as it lifted me up. With a single nod, I said, "Let's move."
And together, under the pale glow of the moon, we slipped into the night.