"You can tell just by looking, right? That woman is off who-knows-where doing god-knows-what. I haven't been able to reach her in ages. If not for her regular contacts with the village, I'd really think she'd gone missing."
Jiraiya let out a helpless sigh, already starting to complain about Tsunade refusing to return to the village.
"Maybe she just can't stand seeing the village in such a miserable state now."
Orochimaru said this.
He poured himself a cup of hot tea, drinking it slowly, not touching the grilled meat on the rack.
A subtle, meaningful smile crept up on his lips, as if he knew some insider secret.
"It's true, the village has changed far too quickly lately. Even though on the surface nothing seems different, I've constantly had a bad feeling, like something else is bound to happen."
"What do you mean? The mastermind behind the Nine-tailed incident?"
Orochimaru played with his teacup, looking at Jiraiya.
With the Nine-tailed incident, it's a simple fact that Konoha's overall strength has suffered.
If it weren't for the Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, dying, Hidden Cloud would never have dared restart hostilities with Konoha at this time.
On the surface, the event is behind them, but as a Konoha upper-ranking ninja, Orochimaru knew full well that the aftermath of this was far from over.
The Hokage's Anbu has been secretly investigating the incident all along.
It's even rumored the Uchiha Clan is involved—the scope is far too widespread.
"That's right. There's rumors saying it was Sakumo's three disciples, but I think there's something else behind all this. It's not as simple as we think."
Jiraiya's expression was serious.
Seeing Orochimaru fall silent, he naturally switched the subject at just the right time:
"Speaking of which, Teacher Sarutobi said you've been acting pretty strange lately. Did you have a falling out with Teacher Sarutobi?"
"No. I've just been busy in the lab with my research. I don't have time to bother with anything else."
Orochimaru replied without a single change in his expression.
"No wonder you're looking more and more gloomy these days—almost didn't recognize you. I'm telling you, you really should stop with all that research."
Jiraiya looked at Orochimaru's increasingly sinister aura—combined with that waxy, pale skin and snake-like vertical pupils, he was turning into the very image of a dangerous maniac.
"Jiraiya, even you can't meddle with my decisions. This is the dream I've devoted my entire life to."
Orochimaru snorted softly, showing his displeasure.
"So, you still haven't given up on that far-fetched dream of immortality?"
Jiraiya recalled something.
In the past, Orochimaru had shared this ultimate goal more than once with both him and Tsunade.
"On the pursuit of truth, I will never give up lightly."
Orochimaru spoke with absolute conviction.
"No one can live forever. Passing our will to the next generation and letting them fulfill what we couldn't—that's what it means to be a ninja."
Jiraiya shook his head, unenthusiastic, feeling like Orochimaru, whom he hadn't seen in so long, had become a bit unhinged.
Familiar, yet tinged with an undeniable sense of strangeness.
"You still cling to such naïve ideas? Minato is already gone for the sake of the village, and where is this Child of Prophecy you speak of now?"
Orochimaru countered in this way.
Jiraiya didn't reply, only sullenly continued to eat his meat, apparently unable to find a good comeback to Orochimaru's words.
"Compared to my dream, this so-called Child of Prophecy of yours is the truly unreachable existence."
Orochimaru stood up from his seat, gazing at the still-brooding Jiraiya.
He knew Minato's death had left Jiraiya full of pain and regret.
Regret that during the Nine-tailed rampage, he wasn't in the village.
"If there's nothing else, I'm leaving. And let me remind you one more time—if Sakumo's three disciples really are behind the Nine-tailed incident, don't go charging in recklessly. You'll only get yourself killed."
After leaving that word of warning, Orochimaru stood up and walked out of the private room.
◎
After parting ways with Jiraiya, Orochimaru was in a foul mood.
He didn't head back to the laboratory, but instead wandered aimlessly around Konoha Village, trying to dispel the irritation in his heart.
Leaving the noisy night market at the village center behind, the outlying districts of the village seemed exceptionally peaceful. Orochimaru could feel his own mood settling with this tranquility.
Just as he was about to turn back, he suddenly heard, deep in the woods, the sound of metal clashing.
It was the distinctive sound of shuriken clashing against each other.
Orochimaru stopped instantly, peering toward the source of the sound deep in the forest.
He crossed a stretch of dense woods, still untouched by human hands.
The shade from the trees kept Orochimaru hidden—as one of the Sannin, if he didn't wish to be noticed, not even a Jonin could sense his presence.
Taking advantage of the cover, the boy training in the clearing ahead naturally hadn't detected Orochimaru at all.
The boy looked about five or six years old, wearing long sleeves and pants, with a fan-shaped crest embroidered on them.
Uchiha Clan, huh? And this child, I feel like I've seen him somewhere before, Orochimaru thought to himself.
In the moonlit forest, the boy's expression appeared remarkably calm—nothing like what you'd expect from a child his age.
The makeshift training ground on the clearing was littered with kunai and shuriken, all scattered in disorder, full of nicks and dents—signs of countless direct impacts, each kunai and shuriken knocked to the ground after harsh collisions.