Training grounds, earlier.
"Mmh~ You, are you even capable?"
"You leave me no choice! Expansion Jutsu!"
Three days later, Pakura returned to Sunagakure bearing Konoha's sincerity, defusing a potential conflict.
Just as Mitokado Homura had predicted, an enraged Ōnoki dispatched nearly a hundred elite Iwa-nin in a retaliatory strike against Konoha.
Qianyu had assumed he'd be sent to the frontlines as part of a trauma team, playing medic. Instead, Hiruzen Sarutobi ordered him to set aside his ANBU duties temporarily and assist Orochimaru with his research full-time.
Outside Konoha, Orochimaru's Lab.
"Our Hokage is quite the character," Qianyu remarked as he cultivated tissue cells, a note of mockery in his voice. "First, he condemns Hiruko's research as evil. Now, he hints you should pursue this forbidden art in private."
"Sss… In the eyes of such men, power holds no inherent morality," Orochimaru replied, not looking up from his work. "Only utility. Whether it can be used by them."
He worked in silence for a moment before speaking again. "Ah, Qianyu-kun. A word of caution."
"Because of the conflict with Iwa, Danzō Shimura has regained his authority. Be careful. He will likely use this chance to… tidy up elements he cannot control. Elements like you."
Qianyu raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Lord Orochimaru, I heard you've been rather close with Lord Danzō lately. Why warn me?"
Orochimaru set down his tools, his expression turning serious. "Qianyu-kun. Danzō and I have a relationship of mutual convenience. You and I… we are comrades who can truly support one another."
"Is that so? Well, Lord Orochimaru, I've helped you quite diligently. How about sharing a couple more forbidden jutsu scrolls as a token of this… comradeship?"
"Ah, but Qianyu-kun, you are here by the Hokage's order. Any reward should come from him, no?"
Comrades, my ass. Typical man. All talk.
Qianyu rolled his eyes. Orochimaru was the type who wouldn't budge without seeing the goods. Good thing he'd come prepared. He pulled a sealed scroll from his cloak and held it out.
"Lord Orochimaru, I have something here you will definitely find interesting. How about a trade?"
"Oh?"
Interest flickered in Orochimaru's golden eyes. He took the scroll and, at Qianyu's nod, released the seal.
POOF!
A cloud of white smoke erupted. From within it, a massive, suction-cupped tentacle thudded onto the lab floor.
Orochimaru's face went slack with shock.
"This… this is a tail of the Eight-Tails?!"
"Correct. Good eye, Lord Orochimaru." Qianyu patted the stunned Sannin on the shoulder, grinning. "Seeing as we're such good comrades, how about… three, maybe five forbidden scrolls? Just a gesture, really."
With the Five-Tails secured, these two spare tails were just lying around. One he'd keep for emergencies. The other? Time to make it earn its keep.
"Qianyu-kun, I am indeed interested," Orochimaru said, recovering his composure. "But five is too many. I happen to have copied some new forbidden techniques. Choose one."
"Three!"
"Two."
"…Fine." Qianyu accepted the price, albeit reluctantly. Just you wait, Orochimaru. See if I don't 'writer's block' you next time.
"Now then, Qianyu-kun. Which two will it be?"
Orochimaru soon returned with an armful of scrolls, spreading them out for inspection.
"These two." After a brief scan, Qianyu selected two scrolls.
He didn't pick the "Hinata Happy Technique"—Hinata wasn't even born yet. Instead, he went for the "Izuna Happy Technique" (Flying Thunder God) and the "Konan Happy Technique" (Mutually Multiplying Explosive Tags).
Both were highly compatible with his current skillset. Immediate, tangible power.
Qianyu spent the better part of the next few weeks in Orochimaru's lab. The research, admittedly, held promise.
In the original timeline, it took Orochimaru over a decade to successfully graft that arm full of "red Submariners" onto Danzō.
But if the Ghastly Vine Technique could reduce the rejection rate of Hashirama's cells, and if the recipient already had Senju blood… that timeline could shrink dramatically.
"Qianyu! It's bad! Something terrible happened!"
The frantic shout tore Qianyu from his observation of the newly cultured cells. It was Nawaki, his voice strained with panic from outside the lab.
"Nawaki? What's wrong?"
Qianyu abandoned his work instantly, leaving a shadow clone behind as he shoved the door open. His brother stood there, face pale.
"You told me to keep an eye on Lord Sakumo before you left, right?" Nawaki grabbed his arm, already pulling him back towards the village. "Rumors have been spreading through the village the last two days. They're saying he abandoned a mission recklessly, that he caused Konoha massive losses."
"Even his own teammates came forward publicly to blame him. It doesn't feel right. I came as fast as I could."
What?!
Qianyu's blood ran cold. He'd specifically warned Sakumo—take fewer missions, lay low, maybe they could avoid this storm. And yet…
SHING!
He understood the gravity immediately. Without a word, he scooped Nawaki up, unfurled his Paper Dance wings, and shot towards Konoha.
Lord Sakumo… please, don't do anything rash!
Back inside the village, flight was no longer an option. He landed and broke into a full sprint, Nawaki at his side, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
"Father, I'm home."
It was after school. Hatake Kakashi returned to a quiet house. He waited in the living room. And waited.
No gentle voice called back.
"Father? Fa… Father!!"
A sliver of unease twisted in his gut. He pushed open his father's bedroom door.
His world shattered.
BOOM!
A clap of thunder outside illuminated the dim room for a split second. It was enough.
Sakumo lay curled on the floor. A dark, spreading pool surrounded him. He looked small. Helpless. Utterly alone.
"Why… why would you leave me?!"
Color drained from Kakashi's world, replaced by a monochrome of stark white and overwhelming red. He stumbled forward, dropping to his knees beside the body. His small frame trembled violently.
The father who always brought him a gift, no matter how far the mission.
The father whose hand would always find his head for a gentle pat, no matter the mistake.
The father who always left a light on, no matter how late he came home…
Why would he abandon him?
"Why… why leave me alone in this cold world?"
The pain was a physical blade twisting in his chest. Tears—the first he could remember—tracked hot lines down his cheeks. They fell into the dark pool at his knees, creating tiny, rippling circles.
This was his first taste of true despair. The shelter from all storms was gone.
No more gifts. No more pats. No more lights left on.
CRASH!
The front door exploded inward.
Before Kakashi could even process the sound, two figures—both taller than him—burst into the room. One he recognized vaguely. A subordinate. A friend of his father's.
The sight that met them froze them both in the doorway.
"Lord Sakumo… he…!"
Qianyu and Nawaki had arrived too late. Nawaki's eyes burned with a furious, agonized grief. Sakumo had saved his life too!
He couldn't comprehend it. How could the unbreakable White Fang of Konoha be broken by mere words?
Under Kakashi's hollow, vacant stare, the two young men moved as one, kneeling on either side of Sakumo's body.
Nawaki reached out, his fingers brushing Sakumo's wrist. He jerked his hand back as if burned. Rage and profound loss warred on his face.
"Qianyu," he whispered, his gaze darting to the catatonic boy nearby. He swallowed the words "He's cold." "Lord Sakumo's body has… We should prepare him. See him off properly."
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