Inside the Hokage's office, the atmosphere was heavy—like the sea before a storm.
Orochimaru's sudden appearance was like a giant serpent slipping into the deep, calming the raging waves in an eerie, unnatural way.
Hiruzen looked at his most brilliant student. In those golden, snake-like eyes was an abyss he had never been able to read.
He set the punitive decree aside and sank back into his chair, rubbing his brow with a weary hand.
"Orochimaru… do you truly want to become Hokage?"
He had kept that question buried for a long time.
Orochimaru licked his lips—an elegant motion that somehow felt dangerous.
"Sensei, you already know. I have no interest in power for its own sake."
He walked to the window and looked down at the village, his voice carrying a feverish obsession.
"What I desire is knowledge—every truth and every jutsu this world holds. Life is far too short… and the ocean of knowledge is endless."
He turned back. In the dim room, his golden pupils shone with a faintly unsettling brightness.
"Becoming Hokage would place me higher, let me see farther. The forbidden jutsus sealed within this village… the legacy left behind by the First and Second Hokage…"
He smiled thinly. "Shouldn't someone inherit them? Study them?"
It was heresy—and yet frighteningly honest.
Hiruzen fell silent.
He knew Orochimaru wasn't lying.
This was who he was: a man who would discard anything in the pursuit of truth.
"Konoha's new generation has been all but ground to dust on the battlefield."
Hiruzen's voice came out hoarse and heavy.
"The four great villages are joining hands to invade… Konoha needs strength. It needs a hero who can lead us to victory."
He raised his head. In his aged eyes, something sharp flashed—an all-in gambler's resolve.
"Orochimaru… I will give you a chance."
"Prove your worth. If you can lead Konoha… crush the coalition of the four great villages, and shatter their ambitions—"
Hiruzen spoke each word slowly, deliberately, making a promise as weighty as a mountain.
"Then I will recommend you… as the Fourth Hokage."
For the first time, clear surprise crossed Orochimaru's face.
He stared at his teacher, as if searching that wrinkled expression for even the faintest sign of a joke.
He found none.
Hiruzen was serious.
"Heh… heheheh…"
Orochimaru chuckled under his breath. The laughter grew, bright with pleasure and excitement.
"Sensei… you're finally willing to acknowledge my value." His smile widened.
"Very well. I accept your wager."
War was the greatest laboratory. Countless powerful shinobi, countless strange kekkei genkai, all blooming in one place. For him, it would be a feast—not a disaster.
"Oh, right." His tone shifted, laced with undisguised contempt. "I heard Tsunade is back as well?"
"That woman shackled by feelings and memories… she's no longer useful."
Then, as if something more entertaining occurred to him, a flicker of curiosity slid through those golden eyes.
"But the boy from today—Sakuya Chigen—was interesting. Turning the tables in Danzō's sure-kill trap… and that secret technique of his." He smiled. "I'm very interested."
Hiruzen's brow tightened, but he didn't respond.
"So, Sensei."
Orochimaru stepped up to the desk and placed the brush back onto its stand, his posture respectful to the point of looking fake.
"Before I head to the front, please allow me to remain at your side for a time… and properly learn what you call the 'Way of the Hokage.'"
---
Chigen limped along the road home.
Not far behind him, two sneaking shadows followed without giving up.
One was a black-haired girl, and the other… a girl holding a pig.
Chigen didn't even need to turn around.
That pig's nose was too sharp. The scent of Tsunade clinging to him probably stood out to it like a beacon in the night.
With a quiet sigh, Chigen turned down a different street.
Before long, the sign of Ichiraku Ramen came into view.
"Welcome!"
A short-haired young man leaned out with a warm smile.
It was Teuchi—back when he was still young.
Chigen sat down like a regular.
"Teuchi, three bowls of miso ramen. Extra fish cake. To go."
"Coming right up!"
He was exhausted in body and spirit. All he wanted was to fill his stomach—and then go home to face the even bigger problem waiting there.
The ramen was ready quickly.
Chigen grabbed the bag and was just about to pay when he caught sight, out of the corner of his eye, of someone hiding behind a utility pole.
An idea struck.
He waved toward that direction.
"Hey. You've been tailing me all this way—want to come out and sit down?"
Shizune stiffened. Hugging Tonton, she slowly shuffled out from behind the pole, her face red as a ripe tomato.
"I—I wasn't…"
"Enough."
Chigen set the packed ramen in front of her, then dug through his pocket for a while—only to come up with a few coins. He spread his hand shamelessly, as if this was completely reasonable.
"Not enough. You pay the rest. Thanks."
And before Shizune could even react, he grabbed the ramen, turned, and bolted—fast as a flash. In an instant, he vanished around the corner.
Shizune stood there clutching Tonton, staring at the steaming bill in front of her, completely dumbstruck.
"Um… miss, the total is…"
Teuchi leaned out, embarrassed, and named the amount.
Shizune's face went even redder.
She looked down at her empty wallet and nearly burst into tears.
---
In Chigen's small house, Tsunade had already changed back into her own clothes.
She sat on the edge of the bed, gripping tightly the bedsheet Chigen had torn off and stuffed into a ball.
That glaring red stain on it was like a needle—stabbing her eyes, stabbing her heart, again and again.
Throw it away?
She couldn't.
Wash it?
Even more impossible.
What was this?
A ridiculous blackout?
An accident she could never speak of?
She thought of that brat—of the clean, soapy scent on him, and those eyes that always looked half-asleep… until the moments they suddenly became unsettlingly bright.
Damn it.
He just ran.
He took what he wanted, said nothing, and left her here alone like this?
The more she thought about it, the hotter her anger burned, rushing straight up into her head.
She shot to her feet, gripping the wadded sheet, ready to tear it apart with raw strength.
And then—
Creaaak.
The door opened.
Chigen stood in the doorway with a takeout bag in hand.
He took one look at the woman radiating keep your distance pressure… and the "evidence" clenched in her fist, and felt his scalp go numb.
Their eyes met.
The air froze instantly.
Tsunade's body locked up. Her hand holding the sheet hovered—unable to lower it, unable to keep it raised—leaving the scene painfully awkward.
Chigen quietly closed the door, walked in, and set the bag on the table.
A rich ramen aroma spread through the room, cutting through the tension that felt ready to explode.
He opened the bag and laid out three bowls of ramen, each still steaming.
"Hungry?"
Chigen pulled out a chair and sat down. He picked up a pair of chopsticks, lifted a mouthful of noodles, and blew on them like nothing was wrong.
"Eat first."