The sun had barely set when Team Sarutobi crossed the southern border of the Land of Fire. Their destination, the Land of Tea, lay a day's march ahead. Hiruzen led the way with calm authority, while his three young students—Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and Tsunade—followed close behind.
By twilight they reached a quiet riverbank and decided to camp. The air smelled of pine and damp earth. A perfect place to rest.
---
Lightning on the Water
"Lightning Release: Earth Run!"
Orochimaru knelt beside the river, fingers forming rapid seals. His hands glowed with blue-white chakra as he pressed them to the surface. A sharp crack split the night—lightning leapt across the water, dazzling everyone. Fish floated belly-up, faint wisps of smoke rising from their scales.
Hiruzen's eyes narrowed with approval. He's mastered another technique already. Remarkable.
"That's enough," Hiruzen said, raising a hand before the entire river was electrocuted. "We don't need to wipe out the whole ecosystem."
"Nice work, Orochimaru!" Jiraiya waded forward to gather their dinner.
Orochimaru merely inclined his head, the barest hint of pride in his eyes.
---
A Cook's Touch
Soon a bonfire crackled in the center of camp. Skewered fish sizzled above the flames, the skin crisping under Orochimaru's careful knife work. He even built a tripod of branches to suspend a metal lunchbox filled with fish broth over the fire. The rich aroma of herbs and roasted meat filled the clearing.
Jiraiya's stomach rumbled loud enough to make Tsunade smirk. Even Hiruzen, who usually hid such things well, swallowed at the delicious scent.
"You all look like starving wolves," Orochimaru observed dryly as he turned a skewer. Honestly, shinobi should respect proper meals, even on missions.
"Ready to eat," he announced at last.
Jiraiya and Tsunade pounced, devouring the grilled fish like they hadn't eaten in days. Hiruzen maintained a shred of dignity and waited until they had begun before helping himself.
"Fish soup is done as well," Orochimaru said, dividing the broth into four steaming cups. He also handed out neatly wrapped dry rations from his pack.
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. "You came prepared."
"It's my first mission beyond the Land of Fire," Orochimaru replied with a small shrug. "I packed everything we might need."
"Your cooking is incredible!" Jiraiya said around a mouthful of fish.
Tsunade clenched her fist. "Jiraiya, swallow before you speak!" She shot him a look that promised pain.
Startled, Jiraiya scooted away, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk.
Tsunade ignored him, secretly impressed. A teammate who can actually cook… priceless on long missions.
Orochimaru, unaware of her thoughts, sipped his broth and contemplated far more dangerous ambitions—Konoha's Forbidden Techniques. He wasn't reckless enough to steal them now; he merely wondered what heights he might reach one day.
---
Night Watch
The moon slid behind a bank of dark clouds. The fire burned low as the team unrolled their sleeping bags.
"Tsunade, yours is over there," Orochimaru said, gesturing toward a neatly placed roll.
Instead, she grinned and slipped into his bag. "Squeeze in!"
The single-person sleeping bag was cramped for two, but she didn't seem to mind.
"How about I join too?" Jiraiya teased, crouching with a sly grin.
Wham! Tsunade's fist shot out, connecting with his shin.
"Aaah! My leg!" Jiraiya yelped, hopping back and clutching the bruise.
"Still want to squeeze in?" she asked sweetly, fist raised again.
"Nope, nope, nope!" He retreated to his own bag, both hands raised in surrender.
High in the branches, Hiruzen reclined against the trunk of a tree, eyes half-closed. Good. They're alert enough to handle a little provocation. But something else is out there…
---
Whispered Warnings
Tsunade rested her head lightly against Orochimaru's chest, her eyes scanning the dark woods. "You've noticed them, right?" she whispered.
"They've been out there for a while," Orochimaru murmured, his arm draped casually around her as though they were sharing bedtime gossip. "Waiting for us to drop our guard."
"Hiruzen-sensei must know."
"Of course. He wants us to handle it."
"Think that idiot Jiraiya noticed?"
"He's not that dense."
The two fell silent, feigning sleep.
Jiraiya lay nearby, face scrunched in mock pain from the earlier punch, but his eyes flicked toward the brush. So I'm not the only one who feels it…
---
Bandits in the Mist
When the fire burned low and the team seemed to slumber, shadowy figures crept closer.
"A Konoha squad? They're careless," one whispered.
"They're just brats," another sneered. "Their leader must be a fool."
Four rogue ninja stepped into the clearing, ragged hemp kimonos flapping. The one with a folded umbrella on his back formed rapid hand seals.
"Water Release: Hidden Mist Technique!"
A thick fog poured over the camp, turning night into a white blur.
Steel hissed through the air. Kunai and shuriken streaked toward the dark silhouette of Hiruzen on the branch. Metal struck flesh with a wet sound, and a spray of blood spattered the bark.
Two bandits lunged at the sleeping bags where Orochimaru and Tsunade lay, while another rushed Jiraiya, short sword flashing.
---
Illusions Shattered
The blades pierced—wood. Orochimaru and Tsunade vanished in puffs of smoke, replaced by wooden stakes. Jiraiya's "body" transformed into a cheeky baby toad sticking out its tongue.
"Substitution Jutsu!" one attacker cursed.
"Dare to ambush Jiraiya-sama? Big mistake!" Jiraiya's real voice boomed through the fog, followed by the crack of a powerful kick. A bandit howled, nose collapsing as he flew backward.
Visibility was poor, but Jiraiya held his ground, listening for his teammates.
"Wind Release: Violent Palm!"
Orochimaru's voice cut through the mist. A sudden gale roared outward, tearing the fog apart.
---
Swift Retribution
"Bastard!" Tsunade's fist slammed into a rogue's gut with bone-shattering force. His eyes bulged as he crumpled without a sound.
Another attacker charged her with a kunai.
"Tsunade, duck!" Orochimaru called.
She dropped instantly.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
Orochimaru's seals blurred; a blazing sphere erupted from his mouth, engulfing the enemy in a roar of flames. The scream ended abruptly as the man's body was hurled back, charred black.
The acrid smell of burnt flesh filled the clearing. Orochimaru frowned slightly. My first kill… and nothing. No fear. No guilt. He had prepared himself, but the emptiness surprised him.
---
A False Fall
"Are you two all right?" Jiraiya jogged over, kunai ready. His eyes widened as he spotted Hiruzen slumped on the branch above, pierced by multiple blades, head drooping.
"Hiruzen-sensei!" Jiraiya shouted in panic.
Orochimaru and Tsunade looked up, startled—until a metallic twang drew their eyes skyward.
A ninja umbrella spun open in midair, raining a thousand glinting senbon down like a silver storm.
---
Counterstrike
"Earth Release: Earth Shore Return!"
Orochimaru slammed his palms to the ground. A massive slab of earth surged upward, forming a barrier. Tsunade braced it with both hands, deflecting the deadly hail.
"You can't escape!" the bandit leader crowed. "My umbrella has no blind spots. Die, brats!"
A faint cracking sound came from beneath him.
He looked down just in time to see pale hands burst from a fissure in the soil, clutching his ankles. With a startled cry he was yanked downward, buried to the neck in an instant.
His umbrella clattered to the ground, spinning uselessly.
"Nice work, Orochimaru!" Jiraiya whooped.
---
The Truth Revealed
Above them, "Hiruzen" dissolved into smoke—the injured figure had been a clone all along. The real Third Hokage dropped silently from another branch, landing beside his students with an approving nod.
"Well done," he said. "You sensed the ambush, stayed calm, and countered efficiently. Exactly what I hoped to see."
Tsunade wiped soot from her cheek, exhaling hard. Jiraiya grinned, adrenaline still buzzing. Orochimaru merely adjusted his cloak, eyes unreadable.
The night air smelled of smoke and wet earth. Around them, the forest fell silent again.
Their first true battle outside the village was over, but none of them would forget the lesson: in the darkness, danger waits—and the will of a shinobi must be sharper than any blade.