The evening bells rang through Konoha, signaling the close of another day. The Academy emptied quickly, streams of children rushing into the fading light. Laughter filled the air, some arguing over who had won in sparring, others running to their parents with wide smiles.
Orochimaru trailed behind the rest, his pale features neutral, a strange stillness clinging to him that made even the rowdiest kids hesitate before running past. He wasn't an outcast, not yet, but whispers already formed around him.
The pale boy. The creepy one. The snake-eyed freak.
He didn't mind. Reputation was a weapon, and unlike the others, he knew how to sharpen it.
As the last of the children departed, the classroom doors closed behind them with a heavy thud. Orochimaru remained seated near the window, staring at the glow of lanterns being lit across the village.
A voice cut through the silence. "Orochimaru. You'll be late for dinner if you keep lingering."
Iruka's predecessor, a young instructor named Umino Daiki, stood with arms folded. He was a mid-level chūnin with a soft face and a scar running across his chin—a remnant from border skirmishes with Iwa. Daiki was patient, far more than most shinobi, but he wasn't blind. He had noticed the boy's unsettling air, the way Orochimaru seemed to peer through people as though dissecting their souls.
"I'm not hungry," Orochimaru replied flatly, golden eyes never leaving the window.
Daiki sighed, pulling up a chair beside him. "You're different, Orochimaru. Smarter than most, sharper than any boy your age has a right to be. But difference can be dangerous. Don't let your classmates see you as someone apart from them."
The boy turned to look at him at last, tilting his head in quiet curiosity. "Do you mean I should pretend?"
Daiki's lips pressed thin. "Sometimes pretending keeps you alive."
Orochimaru didn't answer, but his mind filed the advice away. Pretending—masking—was a tactic as old as warfare. And it seemed in this new life, it would serve him well.
The following morning, class began as usual. The children shuffled in, chattering, though tension lingered from the day before. Uchiha Renji, the boy Orochimaru had humiliated, sat stiffly at his desk. He avoided Orochimaru's gaze, though his fists clenched whenever whispers brushed his ears.
Beside him, Sarutobi Hikari, a kind girl with warm brown eyes, leaned closer. "Don't let him get to you, Renji. It was just bad luck."
Renji bristled. "He mocked me in front of everyone. That wasn't luck."
Another voice chimed in, louder, almost theatrical. Inuzuka Riku, a boy with a small pup always perched on his shoulder, leaned over his desk. "I thought it was hilarious. Did you see his face? Pale freak twisted you like a rag."
Renji's cheeks burned, but before he could snap back, the door slid open. The chatter died instantly as a shadow swept into the room.
It was Shimura Danzō.
Not the war-hardened elder yet, but already a figure steeped in unease. His presence carried the same cold air as a drawn blade. He had come to observe, his dark single eye narrowing as he scanned the room.
The children sat up straighter. Even Daiki bowed his head with respect.
Danzō's gaze landed on Orochimaru. The boy didn't flinch. He simply stared back, unblinking, golden eyes glowing faintly in the morning light.
For a long moment, the air felt too heavy to breathe. Then, with the faintest curl of his lips, Danzō turned to Daiki. "Proceed. I'll be watching."
The lesson began with calligraphy practice, then shifted into chakra control exercises. Each child balanced a leaf on their forehead, focusing their chakra to keep it steady. Most struggled, the leaf slipping with every blink or distraction.
Renji gritted his teeth, his leaf trembling but staying put. Hikari's leaf slid off twice, but she laughed softly, determined to try again. Riku gave up halfway, letting his pup chew on the leaf instead, earning groans from Daiki.
And then there was Orochimaru.
His leaf remained utterly still, as if glued by invisible hands. His chakra was steady, smooth, precise. But he didn't stop there.
Quietly, he extended control to the second leaf on his left hand. Then a third on his right. Then a fourth balanced perfectly on the tip of his nose.
The room grew silent as the children noticed. Even Daiki stopped mid-step, blinking in disbelief.
Renji scowled. "Show-off."
But Danzō's single eye gleamed.
By midday, sparring resumed. This time, Orochimaru was paired not with Renji, but with Hikari. She bowed politely, smiling nervously.
"I'll do my best," she said.
Orochimaru tilted his head. She wasn't arrogant like Renji, nor careless like Riku. She had a softness that reminded him vaguely of kindness—a dangerous weakness in this world.
The match began. Hikari charged with determined but clumsy strikes. Orochimaru weaved through them effortlessly, his movements minimal, calculated. But he didn't humiliate her. He let her land a glancing strike on his sleeve, then countered with a gentle sweep that left her sitting on the ground, unharmed.
Daiki nodded approvingly. "Good. Respect in combat is as important as strength."
Hikari looked up, cheeks flushed, and gave Orochimaru a small grateful smile. "Thank you for not being cruel."
The boy blinked slowly. Cruelty was a tool, not a habit. But perhaps… appearing kind had its uses too.
When classes ended, Danzō lingered, waiting until the last of the children left. His cane tapped softly against the floor as he approached Orochimaru.
"You," he said simply.
The boy looked up, expression unreadable.
"Talent is wasted when flaunted. Do you understand?"
Orochimaru's lips curved faintly. "I understand perfectly."
Danzō's single eye narrowed, as though he could see the hunger beneath that calm surface. "Good. Then remember—power in the shadows lasts longer than power in the light."
He turned and left without another word, his footsteps fading into silence.
That night, Orochimaru sat in his small room at the orphanage, the pale glow of the moon illuminating his desk. A snake coiled lazily near the windowsill, tongue flicking in and out.
"System," he whispered. "Show me progress."
[STAT UPDATE]
Chakra Control: 55% → 58%
Multitasking Threads: 10,000 → 11,500 (NEW)
A slow smile spread across his face. His mind hummed with endless possibilities.
He closed his eyes, reaching out through the Infinite Knowledge System. Military doctrines, biochemical studies, ancient texts—all streamed through him. But one question lingered at the forefront of his thoughts.
How would he build wealth and influence here?
Land? Trade? Weapon smuggling? With access to Earth's financial systems, he could reproduce entire economic empires. Stocks might not exist in this world, but resources did. Control the flow of rice, of weapons, of rare herbs—and control the world.
And all the while, no one would notice. Not yet.
Orochimaru chuckled under his breath. "Invisible. Like the serpent in the grass."
The snake beside him hissed softly, as though in agreement.