Drip...drip...
The sound of dripping water echoed endlessly through the arched underground chamber. A faint, eerie wind wailed through the darkness, carrying the heavy stench of mildew and rust.
A jet-black cat crouched in the shadows, batting lazily at several half-dead white snakes.
Each time the snakes went still, the cat would lift its paw, allowing them to twitch and writhe again, only to press them back down with deliberate cruelty. There was a twisted amusement in its motions.
Then suddenly, the cat froze.
Its head lifted, ears twitching.
Only now did the faint light reveal its appearance; its eyes were mismatched: one jet black, the other pure white.
To anyone else, it would look like a cat that had gone blind in one eye.
But few would know that the white eye was none other than the Byakugan, the kekkei genkai coveted by the other four great villages.
After all, even a single Byakugan had earned the Mist's jōnin, Ao, the infamous title "Byakugan Killer", and a place on Konoha's wanted list.
Who would ever imagine someone insane enough to implant such a treasure into a cat?
And yet, someone had.
The black cat picked up one of the dead snakes in its jaws, leapt silently into the maze of overhead pipes, its movements soundless, like gliding through clouds.
It crouched near a corner, the white pupil expanding slightly while the black eye narrowed to a slit, staring toward the murky water below.
Thick, oily sewage reached up to the knees, reflecting the crisscrossing pipes above like rusted veins.
Tap...tap...
Moments later, ripples disturbed the surface, and three figures dashed swiftly across the water, their shadows twisting in the distorted reflections.
Hiruzen Sarutobi and two ANBU had spent considerable effort to get here.
The path had been riddled with Orochimaru's traps and illusions, and it had taken them hours to find the right route through the labyrinthine sewers.
Only rats and snakes could feel at home in such a damp, stinking place. Orochimaru's habits truly had begun to resemble those of a serpent.
"..."
Hiruzen halted abruptly before a rusted iron door, his face darkening. He gestured for the ANBU to move forward.
Boom!!
With a loud crash, the door burst open, and a suffocating stench poured out.
The smell of rot, disinfectant, and blood hit them like a wave, thick enough to make the stomach churn.
Under the flickering yellow light, the scene before them made Hiruzen's pupils shrink sharply.
The laboratory walls were splattered with dried, dark-red stains.
The ceiling light swung weakly, flickering under the tremor of the broken door.
The floor was layered in blackish-brown residue, proof of crimes that scrubbing could never erase.
Hiruzen could hear the quickened breathing of his two ANBU beside him. Their gazes were locked on the glass cylinders standing in the center of the room.
Inside the faintly green liquid floated human shapes, curled like fetuses.
Their skin, waxy and translucent from long immersion, revealed exposed muscle tissue stitched crudely with black sutures writhing like maggots.
In some, the chest cavities had been opened, hearts still faintly beating, while serpentine organs twisted through their abdomens, wires and tubes snaking out of the containers like jellyfish tentacles.
There were many such specimens.
Bloody numbers marked each one: 32, 42, 65…
Shelves along the walls were stacked with jars containing organs at various stages of growth, twitching faintly in their fluid.
"T-this…" one ANBU stammered, eyes wide behind his mask.
Hiruzen said nothing, though the horror in front of him did not surprise him entirely.
After all, Orochimaru's early experiments with human subjects had been conducted with Konoha's quiet approval, including Hiruzen's own.
The goal had been noble, or so they told themselves: to replicate Hashirama's cells, to revive the lost Wood Release.
The volunteers had been willing.
But that did not absolve them.
Even now, Hiruzen still held guilt and affection toward his student.
Until his gaze fell upon the deepest corner of the lab, and the two figures intertwined there.
Because Orochimaru's back was turned, Hiruzen first saw what lay on the operating table:
a young boy's face, soft, innocent, his throat cut open.
Hyūga Arata.
Gone was the bright smile Hiruzen remembered.
Terror had replaced it.
Tears slid silently down his face.
When he saw Hiruzen, he weakly lifted a trembling hand, lips parting soundlessly.
But Hiruzen could read them.
"Third… Grandpa…" he mouthed.
Orochimaru finally turned at the sound, his pale face illuminated by the cold light.
Blood splattered across his features made his smile grotesque.
At his feet, a headless corpse still gushed blood, turning the room into a crimson nightmare.
That sight hit Hiruzen harder than anything else.
Because he knew that child, he remembered him vividly.
As the honorary headmaster of Konoha's Academy, Hiruzen often visited the children, preaching the "Will of Fire."
Once, he'd spoken in Arata's class. He still remembered that boy's face, eyes shining with admiration.
Later, the teacher had the students write reflections.
Hiruzen usually didn't read them. But that day, on a whim, he looked through them and found Arata's essay.
"My home is like a great tree."
"Grandpa Third is the trunk."
"He balances the inside and provides nourishment."
"My father is the branch and leaves."
"He shields us from the cold and rain."
"Though both grow old and are riddled with holes, they dig their roots deep, supporting and protecting the fruit."
"We are those fruits."
"We enjoy the nourishment, the shelter…"
"But we forget who gives us those things."
"I stood too high."
"Perhaps when I fall, when I'm eaten, when I rot in the soil and grow again as a seed, then I'll understand."
Unlike the usual flattery and childish idealism, this writing had sincerity.
It expressed the purest form of the Will of Fire, seeing beyond clan and self, toward all of Konoha.
It had touched Hiruzen deeply.
He had thought, "What a good child. A true heir to the Will of Fire."
If anyone ever dared say otherwise, Hiruzen would have beaten them bloody on the spot.
And yet… that good child now lay dying before him.
As Arata's small body fell limply onto the table, Hiruzen's pity for Orochimaru evaporated, replaced by a rising fury. His aged face darkened, veins bulging.
"Orochimaru!!" he roared, eyes blazing.
"What have you done?!"
Orochimaru flinched. He hadn't expected such anger.
He had always believed his teacher was too hesitant, too sentimental to truly act against him.
But now, something was different.
Before he could think further, Hiruzen's hands flashed through seals.
Boar – Dog – Rooster – Monkey – Ram!
"Summoning Jutsu!"
Poof!
A great monkey wearing a fur cloak appeared beside him, Enma, the Monkey King.
"Hiruzen, what's wrong?" Enma asked, then froze at the sight of Orochimaru. "You…"
"Enma!"
Hiruzen's shout cut him off.
With another puff of smoke, Enma transformed into a massive adamantine staff.
Orochimaru's expression hardened.
"Using Enma right away…?" he muttered grimly. There was no time to think.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
A howling gale burst from Orochimaru's mouth, whipping the shattered jars into a storm of glass and fluid.
He lunged toward Arata, but Hiruzen swung the staff with terrifying force.
Crack!
Already weakened from chakra loss during his experiments, Orochimaru couldn't withstand the blow. He was hurled across the room, vomiting blood and bits of his own organs.
"Damn you… damn you!!"
He glared hatefully, but when Hiruzen appeared beside Arata in an instant, Orochimaru knew he had lost his chance.
"Earth Release: Hiding Like a Mole Technique!"
He plunged into the ceiling, vanishing into the stone just as the ANBU rushed to Hiruzen's side.
"Lord Third!" they called.
Hiruzen didn't look back.
"Take this boy to the hospital immediately. Do not let him die."
"Yes, sir!"
The ANBU lifted Arata and disappeared.
Meanwhile, deep underground, Orochimaru fled upward through the soil, clutching his chest, face ashen.
He had no chakra left, no strength to fight. Even at his peak, he couldn't have bested his old master.
He could only flee and wait.
Arata would have to be left behind… for now.
The thought burned.
'How had everything gone so wrong?'
'It must be that boy.'
'That damned, calculating boy'
'Could all of this have been his doing?'
'Years of scheming, even manipulating Hiruzen himself?'
'At fifteen? Impossible'
His thoughts were cut off by a flicker of movement.
A masked ANBU stood above him, silver hair gleaming.
A short blade crackled with lightning in his hand.
Hatake Kakashi.
"Raikiri!"
Before Orochimaru could react, a faint sound reached his ear,
Zssst
He looked down.
A black cat darted past, glancing up at him with an oddly human smirk.
And in its left eye, a Byakugan.
Orochimaru's pupils shrank.
BOOM!!
The explosion ripped through the night.
Fire swallowed the entire base, the ground caving in as flesh and debris rained down.
Miles away, the ANBU carrying Arata paused, startled by the distant blast.
"Was that… Lord Third?" one whispered.
Neither noticed the faint smile curling on the boy's lips.
"Still went easy on him, didn't you?"
"I hope Orochimaru enjoys my parting gift."
He never expected Hiruzen to truly kill Orochimaru; their bond was too deep.
But it didn't matter.
What he wanted was to clear his own name.
Orochimaru's life or death was irrelevant.
He was far too valuable a pawn to discard yet.
Arata looked up at the sky.
Dawn had begun to glow along the horizon.
"Next… the Tenseigan," he whispered.
"Hyūga clan… caged birds…"
"What is false shall become true; what is true, false. The strong feign weakness, and the weak wield strength."
"From today onward," he smiled faintly,
"The hunter and the hunted shall switch places."