The forest was deep and silent except for the faint pop of a dispelling clone. Orochimaru stood on a lonely cliff under the rising moon, his breath misting in the cool night air. A faint ripple of chakra shimmered around him—yet the boy looked perfectly calm.
The Secret of Shadow Clones
Shadow Clones could not refine chakra on their own, but they were still perfect for training. Orochimaru had tested it countless times. A clone divided the user's chakra evenly, draining it every second. When a clone dispersed, all its experience, fatigue, and any remaining chakra returned to the original body.
That was precisely what made the technique so useful.
For chakra control and ninjutsu practice, Shadow Clones were ideal. The extra fatigue and chakra loss were manageable—at least for someone with Orochimaru's growing reserves. To him, the strain was nothing more than a calculated risk.
The Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu, however, was another matter. Invented by the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama, the jutsu instantly created dozens—sometimes hundreds—of clones. Maintaining them consumed staggering amounts of chakra every heartbeat. Without the Uzumaki clan's monstrous vitality, a normal ninja would be drained dry in moments. In the worst cases, death was inevitable.
Tobirama had labeled the technique Forbidden for a reason. In the wrong hands—a reckless youth's, for example—it was suicide. Even someone with Senju-level chakra could not use it carelessly.
Orochimaru found this both fascinating and inspiring. Through careful research he had learned something else: humans of this world possessed far more cells than ordinary Earthlings. Their bodies were fundamentally different—stronger, tougher, capable of storing far greater energy. An average academy child here could defeat an Earth adult with ease. The sheer cellular density determined the limits of chakra and power.
Night Training
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Orochimaru, are you still training this late?"
Hiruzen Sarutobi stood at the cliff's edge, arms folded, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. One Orochimaru climbed the cliff step by step with a massive stone strapped to his back. Another walked calmly across the surface of the lake below.
For an instant Hiruzen blinked, startled. Two of them?
Using a single Shadow Clone for drills was common, but two at once? And carrying such weight while walking on water? That was something else entirely.
"Hiruzen-sensei."
The Orochimaru on the cliff reached the top, setting the stone down with a heavy thud that made the ground tremble.
Hiruzen's mouth twitched. "Your training is too extreme. Push your body like this and you could cause permanent damage. It might even affect your future as a shinobi."
He wasn't exaggerating. Overtraining to this degree truly could leave lasting scars.
"Two Shadow Clones are within my tolerance," Orochimaru replied calmly. "I've trained like this for a while now."
"What?!" Hiruzen's brows shot up. He had assumed the Orochimaru before him was the real one and the figure on the lake a clone. He had not expected that both were clones.
A Shadow Clone was a perfect duplicate—down to chakra signature and heartbeat. Even the Byakugan or Sharingan would struggle to tell the real body from the copy. Not even Tobirama himself could have done it at a glance.
Hiruzen crouched slightly, concern flickering across his face. "Is your body okay? Perhaps I should call a medical-nin to examine you."
"I'm fine, sensei. This level of training is well within my limits," Orochimaru answered sincerely.
"Still," Hiruzen said firmly, "if you notice anything unusual—fatigue, pain, anything—you must tell me. Don't try to handle it all alone. Promise me."
"Yes, I understand."
"You really are a little too mature for your age," Hiruzen murmured, ruffling the boy's hair. He wished Orochimaru could be as carefree as Jiraiya, but he knew that was impossible. Orochimaru's quiet intensity ran far too deep.
"I'm already a ninja," Orochimaru said simply. From his pouch he drew the new forehead protector, turning it in his slender fingers. He had once thought wearing it across his brow looked cool. Now it felt almost childish.
Hiruzen exhaled. "It's late. Let's end today's training. I should be heading home to my wife and children."
A Request for Ninjutsu
"Hiruzen-sensei," Orochimaru said quickly as the older man turned to leave, "I want to learn new ninjutsu."
The Hokage-in-waiting paused. Normally he would have refused—most students needed more time to build their chakra. But this was no ordinary student. Orochimaru had mastered the Earth Release: Underground Headhunter Technique after seeing it once, and his chakra control was already excellent. Teaching him low-level techniques would not be a problem.
"All right," Hiruzen said, curiosity piqued. "What are your chakra natures?"
"Fire, Wind, Lightning, Earth, and Water," Orochimaru answered after a brief thought. He had already tested himself with chakra paper and discovered all five elements. If the original story of his life was true, he might also possess Yin and Yang.
"Just like me!" Hiruzen's eyes lit up, a broad smile crossing his face. "I'll prepare some scrolls for you. Tomorrow, you can start learning."
"Thank you, Hiruzen-sensei!"
For once, Orochimaru's normally cool features brightened into a genuine smile.
The so-called Professor of Ninjutsu was a treasure trove of knowledge. It would be foolish not to absorb every technique he could offer. Forbidden jutsu and more dangerous experiments could come later. For now, mastery of ninjutsu was the priority.
Hiruzen felt a rare warmth at the boy's enthusiasm. His earlier worries faded. Maybe this prodigy really did know his own limits.
Steam and Schemes
Later that evening, the village's hot-spring district buzzed with life. Wooden bridges spanned steaming pools imported at great cost from the Land of Hot Water. Konoha shinobi loved to relax here after missions. Bathhouses, a grand tavern, and the largest casino in the village made the area famous.
After a soothing soak, many visitors would drink at the tavern, then stumble to the casino and gamble away every ryo they carried.
Inside the tavern, by the window, a quiet deal concluded.
"Miya-san, are you satisfied with this contract?" the publisher asked with a forced smile. He glanced at the tall, black-haired man across from him, whose cold, elegant face hardly seemed that of a writer of such scandalous books.
"I see your sincerity," replied the man—who was, in truth, Orochimaru under a transformation jutsu. With graceful precision, he signed the pen name Miya on the document.
"Excellent. Here is your advance." The publisher placed a fat envelope on the table. "I'll take my leave."
Seventy-five thousand ryo. Not bad for a supposedly unknown novelist.
Out in the back alley, Orochimaru opened the envelope and counted the crisp notes: seventy-five Land of Fire banknotes, each worth a thousand ryo. His mind was already cataloging how many research tools the money could buy when a flicker of movement caught his attention.
Hm?
Tsunade.
The blonde kunoichi slipped into the tavern like a thief, eyes darting around to ensure she wasn't being followed. Orochimaru watched, curious.
Satisfied that she was unobserved, Tsunade formed a quick hand seal. Smoke swirled, revealing the mature guise of an older woman.
"Tonight I'm winning back everything I lost!" she declared with fierce determination and strode toward the casino like a warrior heading to battle.
Orochimaru blinked. So that's why she was sneaking around.
Wait—was Tsunade gambling in a casino as a child?
Apparently, her infamous habits were innate. Perhaps gambling was in her blood, just as his own taste for forbidden experiments was in his.
The Legendary Sucker
Well, it has nothing to do with me, Orochimaru told himself and started to walk away. But then he remembered how Tsunade had treated him to meals before, and how unexpectedly easy their friendship had become. Violent and brash she might be, but her fists were usually aimed at Jiraiya, not him.
I suppose I should keep an eye on her. She is a fellow ninja after all. And it's a casino—someone might try to cheat her…
Still in his transformed disguise, Orochimaru slipped inside. It didn't take long to find Tsunade at a gambling table, surrounded by eager players.
"Damn it!" she muttered, watching another pile of chips swept away from her side. Her expression grew darker with each loss.
No wonder people would someday call her the "Legendary Sucker." The nickname was not just about her beauty; it described her abysmal luck. Sitting across from her was like facing a gift-wrapped wallet waiting to be emptied.
Orochimaru lingered in the corner, observing. Around him, jealous whispers buzzed.
"Why didn't I spot her first?"
"Those players are so lucky!"
"She disappears for weeks and still we can't find her. To play against that woman is free money!"
Tsunade's sharp ears caught the murmurs. Anger flared.
"Too noisy! Can't you be quiet for once?"
Her fist slammed down. Crack! The thick wooden floor splintered, and the entire casino shuddered. Conversation died instantly. People shrank back like startled quail.
"Hmph!" Tsunade snorted, scooping up her few remaining chips and stalking toward the slot machines.
Orochimaru followed casually and took a seat beside her. "You don't plan to leave until you've lost every coin, do you?"
"Who are you? Mind your own business!" Tsunade snapped, eyes blazing. Losing streaks put her in a foul mood.
"Very well," Orochimaru said mildly, adjusting his glasses. For an instant his brown eyes flashed gold.
Tsunade froze, recognizing him despite the disguise. A slow grin spread across her face as she grabbed his wrist. "So it's you. Do you have money?"
A faint sense of doom prickled along Orochimaru's spine. "…Why?"
---
Hours later they left the casino together, Tsunade's transformation undone. She stomped the ground in frustration.
Not a single win—except for the brief moment when Orochimaru fed a fifty-ryo coin into a slot machine and, against all odds, scored a small payout. She had immediately lost the entire amount on the next game.
Orochimaru stared at his much lighter wallet, his face as expressionless as stone. All the royalties from his secret writing job had vanished in the blink of an eye—swallowed by Tsunade's bottomless bad luck.
"Orochimaru, I'll pay you back," Tsunade said at last, giving him a sheepish smile and patting his arm.
"If you're gambling to earn money," he replied dryly, "perhaps you should take Jiraiya along instead of me."
He had no desire to waste precious research funds again. Every ryo mattered for future experiments.
"Who says gambling isn't for making money!" Tsunade protested loudly, stung by his words.
Orochimaru only sighed. The world might one day remember her as the Legendary Sucker, but tonight he knew the truth firsthand: Tsunade's gambling luck was a force of nature—utterly unbeatable in its misfortune.