"Fuuton Raiton Hiden Gokui Taijutsu Ougi! Sen-nen no Karyu Raiten Denko Supiraru Doriru!"
(Wind Release Lightning Release Ultimate Secret Taijutsu Technique! One-Thousand Year Electric Light Spiral Ascension Poison Dragon Drill!)
With a battle cry that was both ridiculous and terrifying, Namikaze Raimon thrust the crackling, howling drill straight into Tobirama's rear.
BOOM!
The Nidaime Hokage, the master of the Flying Thunder God, a man known for his unparalleled speed and tactical genius, was caught completely off-guard. A scream of pure, unadulterated agony ripped from his throat, a sound so visceral it seemed to echo over the entire village of Konoha, silencing the distant battles for a brief, horrifying moment.
Orochimaru, recovering from his initial shock, let out a low, mocking laugh. "A futile effort, Raimon-san! This is the Edo Tensei! They are immortal, their bodies restored from any damage! Your childish antics are meaningless!"
As if to prove his point, the particles of dust and ash began to swirl around Tobirama's form, slowly but surely reconstructing the part of his anatomy that had been so violently obliterated. Within moments, he was physically whole again. Yet, the pained, furious grimace on the Second Hokage's face remained, etched deep into his features.
Orochimaru's smug expression faltered, his eyes widening in genuine confusion. "Nani?! That's... impossible!" Those resurrected by the Impure World Reincarnation were not supposed to feel pain. They were empty vessels, puppets of dust and soul. So why did Tobirama look as if he had just experienced the depths of hell itself?
Only Namikaze Raimon knew the truth. His unique chakra, infused with a malicious intent honed over a lifetime of causing maximum discomfort, could affect the very soul bound within the Edo Tensei. The body could be remade, but the soul remembered. It was a dual torment of physical violation and spiritual scarring that most beings simply could not endure.
Hashirama Senju, the God of Shinobi, watched the exchange with a look of profound caution replacing his earlier geniality. "Tobirama..." he murmured, before turning his serious gaze to Raimon. "When did Konoha produce a junior with such... unconventional power?"
He had died before Raimon's legend had fully taken shape. In the shinobi world, there were unwritten rules of survival. If you encountered Senju Hashirama, you could fight him; he admired courage and would likely spare you. If you encountered Uchiha Madara, you flattered him, agreed with his philosophy, and prayed for mercy. But if you encountered Namikaze Raimon? You ran. You ran without looking back. And if you were unlucky enough to be hit by one of his techniques, the most merciful thing you could do was end your own life quickly, for the alternative was a suffering so profound it would make death a blessing.
"You... you insolent brat!" Tobirama snarled, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and residual pain. He was the Nidaime Hokage, a pillar of Konoha's foundation! To be humiliated in such a manner by a blond-haired upstart was beyond infuriating. His initial intention to hold back, to merely go through the motions under Orochimaru's control, evaporated. Now, he was going to get serious.
It made sense. In the original timeline, both he and his brother had clearly been holding back against their former student, Hiruzen. Otherwise, the aging Sandaime would have stood no chance against the combined might of the two most legendary Hokage. But now, faced with this personal and profound humiliation, Tobirama's combat instincts were fully ignited.
He was still subtly clutching his perfectly restored backside, the soul-deep ache making him grit his teeth. "This pain... it's not something any shinobi should have to endure!"
"Brat! I'll make sure your rear end blossoms with a thousand exploding tags!" Tobirama roared. He flung a volley of shuriken, and in the same instant, his body vanished.
Flying Thunder God Slash!
He reappeared directly in front of Raimon, his movements a blur. "Exploding Tag: Cluster Bomb!"
Dozens of tags plastered themselves onto Raimon and detonated simultaneously, engulfing the two of them in a massive, concussive fireball that shook the Four Violet Flames Formation. Hiruzen and Orochimaru shielded their eyes from the blast.
When the smoke cleared, Raimon stood there, completely unscathed, picking a piece of imaginary dust from his shoulder. He looked at Tobirama with an expression of profound disappointment.
"Tobirama-sensei," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You invented this forbidden jutsu yourself, didn't you? Did you forget its primary feature? The users are immortal! Your little fireworks show is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine."
If they continued like this, they could fight for a century with no result. The only outcomes for an Edo Tensei were either the caster releasing the jutsu, or the target being sealed away.
As the two Hokages' bodies slowly reformed once more, Tobirama couldn't help but flinch, the phantom pain lingering. Raimon just shook his head, a look of genuine regret on his face.
"It's a real shame you're an Edo body," he sighed. "If you were flesh and blood, I'd love to have you experience my 'Earth Release: Golden Pill of Health' technique. Let's just say it involves kidney stones and a very... personal... delivery system."
Seeing his younger brother being so thoroughly tormented, Hashirama's kind face finally set into a determined line. Under Orochimaru's insistent control, he decided to intervene.
"Enough of this!" Hashirama clapped his hands together, and a wave of immense chakra erupted from him, so potent it felt like a physical weight. "Mokuton: Jukai Kōtan! (Wood Release: Birth of Dense Woodland!)"
The very tiles of the rooftop splintered as massive, serpentine tree roots erupted, growing at an impossible rate. In seconds, a miniature, thriving forest covered the top of the Hokage Residence, the canopy brushing against the violet barrier.
"Tobirama, now! Seal him!" Hashirama commanded.
Countless wooden branches and roots, moving with the speed of striking snakes, shot towards Raimon from every direction, seeking to bind him.
But trapping Namikaze Raimon was like trying to catch sunlight. With the Flying Thunder God and the infinite chakra of his Edo Tensei state, he was a phantom. He flickered in and out of existence, a yellow flash effortlessly dodging the grasping wood, his laughter echoing tauntingly through the newly formed grove.
Orochimaru and Hiruzen could only watch, temporarily reduced to spectators in this bizarre clash of eras and styles. Hiruzen made no move to intervene. A small, selfish part of him hoped that his predecessors would succeed in sealing Raimon. The alternative—facing the man's "creative" justice for his failures regarding Naruto—was a fate that made his lower back ache in sympathy.
Meanwhile, deep within the ANBU Root headquarters, a masked agent knelt before his leader.
"Danzo-sama," the agent reported, his voice tight with urgency. "Orochimaru has utilized the forbidden jutsu. He has reanimated the Shodai and Nidaime Hokage... and... that man, Namikaze Raimon."
Danzo Shimura, who had been calmly sipping his tea, choked. A sharp, sympathetic twinge shot through his own posterior. "What?! Namikaze Raimon?! Are you certain?"
"The intelligence is confirmed, Danzo-sama. Our operative saw it clearly. Furthermore, the target broke free from Orochimaru's control over the Edo Tensei."
"That fool, Hiruzen!" Danzo snarled, slamming his fist on the table. "I told him he would live to regret his weakness!" If not for Hiruzen's sentimental hesitation back then, Orochimaru would have been eliminated, and this disaster would never have happened!
A cold, calculating glint entered Danzo's single visible eye. This was a crisis, but also an opportunity. Hiruzen's failure to contain Orochimaru had now led to the resurrection of a village-wide threat. The Council of Elders would have no choice but to demand his resignation.
"Hmph," Danzo grunted, a slow smile spreading across his face. "The title of Godaime Hokage will be mine."
He stood up, his voice turning sharp and commanding. "Send the order! All Root operatives are to deploy with reinforced, chakra-resistant buttock guards! Mobilize the entire Sealing Team and have them infiltrate the perimeter of the barrier! Move out!"
"Hai!"
...
Back at the Chunin Exams arena, Kakashi Hatake and Might Guy had finally cleared the area of the invading Oto and Suna shinobi. They stood side-by-side, staring up at the ominous violet barrier enclosing the Hokage's viewing platform.
"That's... Sensei's older brother?" Kakashi whispered, his single visible eye wide with a complex mix of shock and a deep, gnawing guilt. The memory of a bright, smiling Minato flashed in his mind, followed by the image of a lonely, ostracized blond boy he had deliberately avoided for years.
Might Guy, ever energetic, scratched his head in confusion. "Who is that dynamic youth, Rival? His vibrant yellow hair reminds me of the Yondaime's splendid glory!"
Then, the reality of the situation crashed down on him. His face paled, and his signature bushy eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "Wait... N-Namikaze Raimon?!"
Guy, whose brain was mostly filled with thoughts of training, youth, and taijutsu, had a few, very distinct memories of this man. He had, on several occasions during his intense training regimens, accidentally disturbed Raimon's... "research"... into new "medical" ninjutsu. The resulting "corrective lessons" were burned into his memory—and his backside.
Kakashi didn't turn, his gaze fixed on the flickering yellow flash within the barrier. "The Fourth Hokage's elder brother," he confirmed, his voice flat. "Namikaze Raimon. The 'Rectum Ripper.' The nightmare of the entire shinobi world during the Third Great War."
"The... The Rectum Ripper?!" Guy yelped, instinctively taking a half-step behind Kakashi, his hands moving protectively behind his back. If Raimon-sama decided to settle old scores, his glorious posterior was in mortal danger!
"That... that man who made tens of thousands of shinobi clench their... everything... just by appearing on the battlefield?" Guy asked, his voice hopeful, praying this was all just a genjutsu.
Kakashi finally turned his head, his visible eye crinkling into a look of pure, unadulterated despair. "Yes. It's him."
If Namikaze Raimon found out that Kakashi had neglected his sensei's only son, his beloved nephew... being on the receiving end of a Chidori would be a merciful end compared to what was in store.
...
Inside the barrier, Hiruzen Sarutobi saw his opening. He flashed to Orochimaru's side, his voice a low, urgent whisper.
"Orochimaru," Hiruzen began, his eyes darting towards the chaotic forest where Raimon was toying with the Hokage founders. "You may have an immortal body thanks to your experiments, but do you truly wish to experience the sensation of that drill for all eternity? I assure you, his techniques have a way of... lingering."
At this point, Hiruzen had no other choice. He had to form a temporary, unholy alliance with his rogue student to deal with the immediate, greater threat. Of course, his plan was to secretly maneuver the battle so that Raimon would be sealed away in one decisive blow.
Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed, a flicker of that old disappointment with his sensei surfacing. "Sensei... you truly have grown old and weak." He had wanted a grand, dramatic end for the man who represented the old Konoha, not this desperate plea for cooperation. But the threat of an eternity of spiritual-proctological torment was a powerful motivator.
A silent understanding passed between them. They would cooperate, for now. The two shinobi legends separated, moving to opposite corners of the barrier, their hands already moving to form the seals for their most powerful techniques.
"Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!"
"Earth Release: Swamp of the Underworld!"