During the time spent in the classroom, the sky over Konoha had become covered with a light veil of clouds, yet the sun's rays still broke through, casting soft light onto the grass. Three genin stood before the man they were now supposed to call their sensei. The future Sannin was extraordinarily calm, his gaze gliding over the faces of his new students as if studying them in the finest detail.
"Well then, since we'll be spending a lot of time together, let's start small. My name is Orochimaru. I am one of the three students of Sarutobi Hiruzen."
He let out a heavy sigh and cast a tired glance at Nawaki before continuing.
"As for my likes and dislikes… I do not like meaningless questions. I cannot stand stupidity and incompetence. Especially when they lead to death. But more than anything, I hate limitations."
He paused, giving the students time to absorb every word.
"What do I like? Progress. Knowledge. Growth. Everything that allows us to improve. Dreams?.." As he spoke these words, Orochimaru narrowed his eyes dangerously. "My dream is to learn the limits of human nature and surpass them."
He gestured toward them.
"Now you."
Nawaki stepped forward first. His movements were energetic and confident, his face full of anticipation.
"I'm Nawaki, from the Senju clan. I like challenges, honest fights, good food, having fun, and learning new jutsu. I don't like boring lectures, cowards, or arrogant people. I dream of becoming Hokage, just like my grandfather, to protect everyone in this Village. I also want to save as many people as possible, just like my sister."
At the mention of Tsunade, Orochimaru's eyebrow twitched. Apparently, she had clearly played a role in getting her brother onto her teammate's team. Mikoto did not delay for long. Her voice was calm and measured.
"Uchiha Mikoto. I like training, order, and cleanliness. I can't stand recklessness, foolish rules, or prejudice. My goal is to become the next head of the clan, to uphold its honor and strength. And also…" she slightly averted her gaze, "…so that no one can dictate who I should be."
Kuro exhaled and began his introduction next. He held Orochimaru's gaze for a second—and felt as if the man were looking straight through him.
"Kuro Nara," he said. "I play shogi. I like silence. I don't like it when people try to control me. I want to become the strongest shinobi. So that I can feel free and decide for myself how to live."
He smirked at the last phrase, but there was something… wild in that smirk. Orochimaru narrowed his eyes a little more.
"Excellent. And now—let's see how well your words match reality."
He formed hand seals. A burst of smoke—and three exact copies appeared beside him. One clone moved toward Nawaki, another toward Mikoto, and the third toward Kuro.
"Attack. My advice—give it everything you've got."
The Orochimaru clone, moving with serpentine grace, silently advanced on Nawaki, forcing him to instinctively draw a kunai. The boy's face was focused. He had no intention of losing. Not to a clone, and not to the original.
The Senju dashed forward instantly. His heart was pounding, but his eyes burned with excitement. If it's just a clone, one precise strike is all it takes. It'll disperse—and I'll win.
He rushed in, closing the distance. His chest filled with air, muscles flooding with chakra. Close combat—this was his element. Orochimaru remained standing, as if giving him a chance, but Nawaki wasn't fooled—there was a trap in that silent challenge.
Let's test it…
He sharply swept at the legs, and the moment his opponent jumped back, he straightened abruptly and struck with the kunai, aiming straight for the stomach. Miss. The clone shifted half a step to the side, letting the blow pass. The counterattack came instantly—Orochimaru grabbed the boy's wrist, yanked him forward, and swung an elbow toward his temple. The Senju barely managed to block with his forearm, flying backward from the force of the strike.
"Fast…" he muttered painfully, rolling across the ground a couple of times. "And that's just a clone?"
Soon, kunai were flying his way, but Nawaki quickly used the Substitution Technique, leaving a log in his place. The genin himself was already forming seals.
"Doton: Stone Bullets!"
The ground bulged and split with cracks. Projectiles burst from beneath the earth and shot toward the clone at high speed. But that wasn't the end.
"Stone Spikes!"
The earth around the future Sannin heaved, releasing sharp pillars that lunged at their target from all sides. It was a double attack—from above and below. But Orochimaru only smiled predatorily, as if enjoying the process.
"Doton: Earth Wall."
A massive barrier rose from the ground, blocking every effort of his opponent. After the collision, shards of stone scattered in all directions, and dust rose everywhere, obscuring vision.
Nawaki growled through clenched teeth.
He's just playing with me. Thinks I'll give up?
He recalled his recent training with Tsunade. How she had drilled into him, again and again, the importance of chakra control, using Kuro as an example. How his fists struck rock—though it seemed that did more harm to him than to the stone. Now, looking at his opponent hidden behind the wall, he felt determination building in his chest.
"Damn it. Time to give it one hundred and twenty percent!"
He concentrated chakra into his right hand. Clenching his power-filled fist, he charged forward. It didn't matter that his control over the technique was unstable—at that moment, Nawaki believed it would work. Gaining speed, he jumped—soaring into the air and clearing the stone wall. On the other side, the Orochimaru clone stood motionless, like a statue, arms crossed over its chest.
"Got you!" Nawaki roared and struck.
A thunderous crash.
His fist slammed into the ground, kicking up a wave of dust and debris. But there was no body beneath it.
"What?" he whispered. "Substitution? No… that was… an intangible body?"
Before he could turn around, the ground beneath his feet trembled.
Hands burst out of the earth, wrapping around his legs. He tried to break free, but it was too late—the ground greedily dragged him down, like a swamp.
"You were close. But your recklessness is your greatest enemy. You didn't give yourself time to think and didn't even recognize a basic cloning technique."
"No, I—!" Nawaki shouted, trying to focus his chakra again, but his control collapsed. It was all in vain.
Defeat. Fast, harsh, painful—especially for someone who dreamed of becoming Hokage.
When the earth receded and the dust settled, Nawaki remained kneeling, breathing heavily.
"I lost so easily…" he whispered.
The Orochimaru clone dissolved into smoke with a gentle smirk. The first fight was over. And the lesson—learned.
At the same time, Mikoto had already activated her Sharingan. A single tomoe spun in her crimson eyes. The Uchiha was calm and composed.
"Attack," she said quietly.
The future Sannin smiled predatorily. The next instant, they rushed at each other. A moment later, a spinning kick was already flying toward the opponent. But Orochimaru didn't just block it—he grabbed the kunoichi by the leg and slammed her into the ground with all his strength. Fortunately, Mikoto managed to use substitution, and a shattered log lay in a small crater instead.
The girl herself appeared behind him and hurled a dozen shuriken. They flew along a strange trajectory. Just when it seemed they had missed, the Uchiha twitched her fingers, tightening the wire and twisting them into a spiral, trying to bind her target. It was one of her trump cards—nearly invisible wire that often caught opponents off guard.
But the clone didn't panic at all. Two white snakes crawled out of his sleeves, wrapping around and protecting their master's body. Seeing that her attack had forced the sensei to defend, Mikoto smirked and formed seals.
"Katon: Fireball!"
Scorching flames burst from her mouth, engulfing the target shielded by snakes. In Mikoto's opinion, this should have been enough to deal at least some damage and make the clone disperse. But when the flames subsided, the kunoichi saw only minor burn marks on the reptiles—and nothing more.
"Not a bad combination, but you clearly lack power," Orochimaru said with a smirk, emerging from his cocoon.
Mikoto felt that he was simply mocking her, and at this pace her chakra could run out quickly. Adjusting her grip on her kunai, she lunged forward, relying on her Sharingan.
The kunoichi attacked precisely, striking at what seemed to be the least protected points, but her opponent never fell behind by even a step. He anticipated every swing, every feint, as if he himself possessed a legendary dōjutsu. Orochimaru gave her no room to maneuver. More than that—his stance resembled her own.
"Are you copying my style?" she breathed, leaping back.
The clone did not answer. He stepped forward, exactly repeating her previous strike.
"How is that even possible?"