The night air in Tanzaku Town carried the sour weight of spilled wine and lamp smoke. Crowds had gathered in the street, whispering, pressing closer, drawn by the sudden collision of names too heavy to belong here.
Lelouch stood at the edge of it, his violet gaze sharp, his cloak brushing the dirt. To the villagers, this was chaos. To him, it was a board. Pieces were moving, faster than most eyes could track.
Tsunade stood in the center, shoulders rigid, jaw set, yet trembling faintly beneath her strength. Shizune hovered close, pale with worry, clutching her pig in one hand like a charm against demons.
Then the demon arrived.
Orochimaru slipped into the light like a blade unsheathed. His pale face gleamed under the lanterns, golden eyes bright with hunger. Kabuto flanked him, smiling faintly, his glasses catching firelight.
The crowd recoiled. Children cried. Even hardened gamblers who had seen men gutted in alleys took a step back. Instinct recognized a predator when reason tried to deny it.
"Ah… Tsunade," Orochimaru hissed, his voice dripping mockery and familiarity in equal measure. "So many years, and here you are — wasting yourself on dice and drink. The granddaughter of Hashirama, hiding from thrones she should have inherited."
Tsunade's lip curled. "And you — wasting your genius in graves. Still pretending corpses make a kingdom?"
Orochimaru smiled wider, ignoring the barb. His hands spread, palms pale as bone. "Tell me — do you remember how they looked when they died? Dan's eyes dimming in your arms, Nawaki's blood soaking the ground? How many nights have you drowned their faces in sake, only to wake and find them still gone?"
Tsunade's breath caught. Her knuckles whitened at her side.
Lelouch watched closely. He had seen grief before, but Tsunade's was raw, festering, unhealed. Orochimaru was pressing the wound like a surgeon who cut to cripple, not to cure.
"I can give them back to you," Orochimaru whispered. His words slithered into the silence, coiling around Tsunade's heart. "Nawaki. Dan. Smiling. Breathing. Warm."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Shizune's hand shot out to grip Tsunade's arm, trembling.
Jiraiya moved forward, voice booming, anger vibrating in every word. "Orochimaru! Still poisoning with promises. You think anyone here believes you can give life back? All you bring is rot!"
Orochimaru's golden eyes slid toward him, amused. "And yet… she's listening."
Tsunade's lips trembled. Her chest rose and fell sharply, as if air itself had betrayed her.
Then Naruto shoved past Jiraiya, fists clenched, eyes blazing. His voice cracked with fury. "Don't listen to him, Granny! He's lying! He's the one who killed the old man! He's the reason we're even standing here!"
Orochimaru tilted his head, studying the boy as one might study a rat that barked like a dog. "So this is the jinchuriki."
Naruto's teeth bared. "You think Hokage are weak cowards who run from pain? They're not! The Third Hokage died protecting us — protecting me! You think you can spit on that sacrifice with your tricks?" His fists shook, his voice raw with grief he didn't even understand. "I'll become Hokage one day, and I'll do it without cowards like you!"
The crowd stirred. Even Tsunade blinked, startled by the boy's ferocity.
Orochimaru chuckled. "Such fire. Such naivety."
Jiraiya's voice rumbled low. "That's the Will of Fire, Orochimaru. Something you spat out years ago."
The sannin's smile thinned.
And Lelouch finally spoke.
"Pathetic."
The word dropped like a stone into water. The street stilled. Even Orochimaru's head turned slightly.
Lelouch stepped forward, violet eyes gleaming in the torchlight. "A snake offers you ghosts. A child shouts about dreams. A sannin repeats tired mantras. And you—" his gaze locked on Tsunade, sharp as glass "—you drink yourself numb because it's easier than choosing."
Her head snapped toward him, fury rising — but her hand shook as much as her voice.
"You don't know me."
"I know grief when I see it," Lelouch said coldly. "I know someone who drinks so she doesn't hear the graves when she sleeps. Someone who runs so the graves don't catch up. Nawaki. Dan. You carry them every day, and you think dice can silence them?"
Her breath hitched. The street seemed to hold its breath with her.
"Would they forgive you," Lelouch pressed, "for letting their memory rot here, among drunks and dice? Or would they want you to build something so no other brother, no other lover, ever dies screaming?"
Shizune's eyes widened. Jiraiya scowled, but said nothing. Naruto trembled, caught between fury and confusion.
Orochimaru's smile faltered, just slightly.
Tsunade's dice cup slipped from her hand. Wood clattered on stone. Two dice spilled into dirt, bouncing to a stop. Both sixes.
The crowd whispered. None dared move.
Tsunade's lips trembled. "I… I can't—"
"You can," Lelouch said, softer now, but no less sharp. "Because if you don't, someone else will. And when they do, more graves will follow."
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Tsunade's eyes glistened, torn between rage, grief, and the faintest flicker of something she hadn't felt in years: possibility.
Then Orochimaru hissed, his smile breaking. "Pretty words. But chains rust. And snakes slip through them."
His hands rose, pale fingers curling into seals. Kabuto moved with him, kunai flashing. Chakra stirred, foul and heavy.
Jiraiya mirrored the motion, summoning toad chakra into his stance. Naruto's clones burst into smoke, fists ready.
Tsunade stood frozen, trembling, paralyzed between past and future.
And Lelouch?
Lelouch only folded his hands behind his back, his eyes gleaming, lips curling faintly.
"Pieces in place."
The storm broke.