He was completely different from the original Senju Nawaki!
A strange aura radiated from him. If Orochimaru hadn't investigated carefully, he might have assumed that Senju Nawaki was an imposter disguised by another shinobi.
As a researcher, Orochimaru noticed immediately: though Nawaki looked battered, the activity within his cells surpassed even Tsunade's.
Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed. He tried to pierce through the façade, to see what experience could have transformed Nawaki like this.
But Nawaki noticed Orochimaru's silence and felt stirred. He had found the problem—his own reaction no longer matched the naive boy's personality.
Instead of shying away, he met Orochimaru's probing gaze head-on.
There was nothing unusual about a person changing after a near-death ordeal. It would only be suspicious if he continued acting like an idiot.
Bang—
The door was shoved open just as the two of them locked eyes.
"Senju Nawaki, do you realize how much damage you've brought to Konoha? Where are the other two jōnin? They were the elite shinobi of the village!"
An ANBU operative wearing a monkey mask strode in, his tone sharp with accusation.
Nawaki narrowed his eyes, straining to see clearly who dared to question him in this way.
He was not only the heir of the Senju clan but also a shinobi of Konoha. Even if he was a newly minted genin, no one should speak to him like this.
Clearly, Tobirama Senju had been too lenient in the past. The previous Nawaki had been far too easy to manipulate.
Memories surfaced—his entire childhood spent under constant suppression. Always compared to Tsunade. Always told he was mediocre.
Tsunade, hailed as a genius, received endless resources. He, on the other hand, received scraps.
To the whole village, she was brilliant; he was a disappointment.
And Sarutobi Hiruzen had raised Tsunade as a weapon to suppress Nawaki further, plundering the Senju clan's resources for himself. After all, Tsunade's own surname was politically convenient to use as a wedge.
The ANBU took a step closer when Nawaki didn't respond.
"Two senior shinobi died because of your reckless behavior. You should be considering how to compensate Konoha!" the operative snapped.
So that's it.
The corners of Nawaki's lips curled faintly. He closed his eyes, dismissing the ANBU's presence entirely.
It was obvious what was happening: this operative was here to shove the blame onto him.
Not only to absolve the village of responsibility—but also to bleed the Senju clan of more resources.
This was Hiruzen Sarutobi's style. Never accept blame. Always seize credit. No matter the cost.
If it had been the old Nawaki, he would have accepted this scolding. As a foolish boy chasing the dream of Hokage, he would have willingly sacrificed everything—his clan, his dignity, even his own future—for Konoha.
He would have thrown away the last Senju resources to cover the village's mistakes.
But not anymore.
Would he now accept the fate of being reduced to a cripple, an obedient pawn stripped of his voice? Just to survive?
He was the victim. Why should he bow to a conspiracy?
"What's with that attitude? Aren't you afraid the villagers will spit on you? If you act like this, how will you ever win their recognition?"
The ANBU's face was unreadable, but his words were sharp with anger. He was trying to strike where Nawaki had always been most vulnerable: his desperate need for acknowledgment.
Before, any Konoha shinobi could have used that very excuse to manipulate him into sacrificing more of his clan's wealth and influence.
Orochimaru frowned, preparing to intervene—
Bang!
The ANBU was sent crashing to the ground.
A blonde girl stormed in, fury blazing in her eyes.
Tsunade.
Though her mindset hadn't yet hardened into what it would become, her violent temper was already unmistakable.
Behind her stepped a white-haired shinobi—Jiraiya.
"Get out. Don't disturb Nawaki." Tsunade's voice cracked like a whip.
Her anger wasn't just at the ANBU. It was at the Hokage himself. How dare Sarutobi allow this harassment when her younger brother had barely survived an ambush? Did he not even control his own ANBU forces?
The operative faltered under the glare of the rising Sannin, then retreated silently.
"Nawaki, are you alright?"
Tsunade rushed to her brother's side, scanning his body. Tears welled in her eyes. When she saw his broken leg, they spilled freely.
Orochimaru remained by the wall, his gaze fixed on Nawaki.
These abnormal behaviors, the cautious words, the strange aura… Nawaki had undeniably changed.
Orochimaru recalled the camp incident—the boy's strange request that he never let him out of his sight.
Was he afraid someone would harm him?
This Konoha… needed to change.
"Nawaki, don't be reckless again," Tsunade pleaded. "You'll only bring trouble to the village—and to me. I abandoned a mission just to be here."
Jiraiya stepped forward, concerned in his face. "She's right. Take it easy, kid. You've got us now."
Nawaki gave a crooked smile and pushed Tsunade's hands away.
"Sister, don't worry. In this state, I can't be a ninja anymore."
His voice was light, but his words carried a deeper disdain.
Weren't shinobi nothing but dogs serving the nobles? He had no intention of continuing down that path.
The three Sannin exchanged looks, assuming he was just struggling to accept his injuries.
But Tsunade's examination revealed otherwise—his body functions weren't crippled. His cellular activity was even heightened.
"The ANBU just now blamed everything on me," Nawaki said suddenly. "What do you think I should do?"
Tsunade blinked, surprised at the question.
She didn't know how to answer.
To her, Nawaki was still the big-hearted, slightly foolish younger brother. His doubts and sharpness didn't fit him.
But her affection for him was real.
"I'll talk to the old man," she promised. "It wasn't entirely your fault. He won't punish you, don't worry."
She believed he feared Konoha's retribution. She never suspected the village itself.
To her, integration of the Senju into Konoha was inevitable. She had already been molded into Sarutobi's weapon.
All for Hiruzen's Konoha.
Orochimaru smirked faintly, staying silent. He had seen it—the caution in Nawaki's eyes, even toward his own sister. No words could sway him.
"Nawaki," Jiraiya added, "you were reckless this time. Two jōnin died. But with Tsunade here, the old man will forgive you."
Nawaki's eyes darkened with disgust.
Was Sarutobi's grip over Konoha truly this suffocating?
In just a day, the narrative had spread—his failure alone was to blame for the ambush.
Even Jiraiya and Tsunade had accepted it. Even they believed the victim was guilty.
"…Am I wrong?" Nawaki murmured under his breath. "How did this version of the story spread?"
It wasn't just a question for himself. It was for all three shinobi standing before him.