The Uchiha Flame Formation dissipated. The black flames that had carpeted the ground went out.
Karin gazed upon the soil of her homeland, a look of melancholy on her face.
As one of the few surviving members of the Uzumaki clan, this land held nothing but painful memories.
Even though she had been young, her keen memory retained vivid images of that day—the day the nation fell, her clansmen scattering in desperate flight, a scene of utter tragedy.
Sensing her sorrow, Sasuke approached. "Karin," he said quietly. "Let's go back."
"Mm." She nodded, her usual fire tempered into something subdued.
On Jiraiya's shoulder, the two Great Sage Toads had already returned to Mount Myōboku. Even though he felt he had his answer, Jiraiya had decided to follow Orochimaru anyway. He needed to understand the full truth, but more than that, he needed to know… just what Orochimaru's stance was now.
Kabuto leaned closer to Sasuke, his voice a murmur. "Naruto is in a valley five kilometers from here."
Sasuke's eyes narrowed slightly. "Alone?"
"Yamato is with him."
"I see."
"Aren't you going to see him?"
Sasuke's back remained turned, his silhouette heavy. "Now is not the time."
Kabuto adjusted his glasses, a thoughtful look crossing his face. He said nothing more.
SWOOSH!
The vortex of the Futodama swallowed them, depositing the group back on Azure Moon Island.
Jiraiya looked up at the pale blue moonlight overhead. "So this is your hideout. Moving in and out with a space-time ninjutsu. No wonder I couldn't find a trace of you all these past six months, no matter how hard I looked."
Kabuto spoke up. "Lord Orochimaru, I wish to return to the Land of Whirlpools to retrieve the documents stored there."
Orochimaru waved a dismissive hand. "The Uzumaki clan's records? I've long since committed them to memory. There's no need."
"For you, perhaps," Kabuto countered. "I wish to master as much as I can. Furthermore, those texts contain records of many secret techniques. It would be troublesome if they fell into the wrong hands in the future."
A faint, approving smile touched Orochimaru's lips. "A reasonable point. Go, then. Be quick."
The strangeness in Orochimaru's manner—calm, measured, almost reasonable—sat uneasily with Jiraiya.
Orochimaru noticed his stare and chuckled. "Old friend, must you scrutinize me so? All these years, wasn't it your dearest wish to 'redeem' me?"
Jiraiya let out a long, weary sigh. "I… gave up on that."
"Precisely," Orochimaru said, his smile deepening. "Spring comes, and grass grows of its own accord. Sometimes, by not interfering, things develop into the very shape you hoped for."
A hint of old frustration seeped into Jiraiya's voice. "Are you saying everything I did was pointless?"
Orochimaru shook his head gently. "No. Without the 'you' of the past, there would be no 'me' of the present. It's all part of a grand design. You sense the truth of it in your heart, don't you? If you wish to know the 'why' of it all… follow me."
Watching the retreating back of his oldest friend—so familiar, yet utterly alien—Jiraiya felt a storm of conflicting emotions. He took a step, then another, and followed.
Sasuke, Karin, and Itachi… none of them moved to disturb the reunion of the two legends.
Inside the small residence, Orochimaru spoke in a calm, steady tone. He narrated the future. He explained what had happened to him.
Jiraiya learned of it all.
The final act of the Tale of the Gutsy Ninja.
The opening chapter of the Tale of Naruto Uzumaki.
The transformation… the sublimation… of Orochimaru.
And the desolate, silent finale that awaited them all.
The journey was more epic than he'd imagined. The ending was bleaker. Yet… he had foreseen its shape.
The Return Arc—the end that was a beginning. The rebirth of Sasuke Uchiha.
"This is Sasuke-kun's truth. My truth. And the truth of the future that was…"
Jiraiya was silent for a long time. Then he asked a question so audacious it seemed to crack the air. "Sasuke forcibly synced you with your future self. So… which are you? The 'now' you? Or the 'future' you?"
Orochimaru's vertical pupils contracted almost imperceptibly.
This was a matter he had deliberately avoided discussing, even with Sasuke. It was… inappropriate.
But faced with Jiraiya's direct question, he finally voiced the thoughts he'd kept locked away.
"While I have inherited the memories, knowledge, and sentiments of my future self, I am not entirely equivalent to him. That 'future me' never intended to erase the 'past me.' He wanted me to verify everything through my own steps."
"An imperfect analogy: I am a man caught in the seam. One half in the future, one half in the past. That… is the 'me' of now."
Jiraiya let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I'm genuinely surprised you'd tell me this."
"Itachi once said he regretted not consulting Sasuke-kun," Orochimaru replied, his gaze distant. "It made me wonder… should I avoid repeating that mistake?"
"So…" Jiraiya's voice sharpened. "You arranged that fight between Sasuke and me. All to create this moment? To get us sitting here together?"
Orochimaru's smile was razor-thin. "No. The Ten-Bout Assessment is a serious affair. Your strength was accurately pegged at the fifth bout. That is the true reason you are qualified to sit here. Everything else… was merely seizing the opportunity presented."
"You really have changed, Orochimaru…"
"Isn't that what you always wished for?" Orochimaru's head tilted. "Why do you sound so vexed?"
"…"
Jiraiya clenched his fist, looking down at the table. "It wasn't because of me. That change. So… I feel a bit defeated, I suppose. Maybe I'm not the paragon of virtue everyone thinks I am."
"You finally said it." Orochimaru's voice held a strange warmth. "Facing one's own heart is the mark of true courage. No one is perfect. After all, a truly spotless paragon could never write… those passionate novels of yours."
Jiraiya choked on his tea. "You've read them?!"
"I have. The Make-Out series, in particular."
SPUTTER!
Jiraiya barely managed not to spray tea across the table.
Orochimaru, however, was utterly serious. "Jiraiya. In my previous life… I had a child. You may find it hard to believe, but it was after reading your work that I even considered experiencing the feelings of parenthood for myself."
Jiraiya set his cup down carefully, his face a mask of shock. "You're… you're serious? I've never been a parent myself! I was always worried my writing lacked authenticity!"
"Perhaps," Orochimaru said, a genuine, soft smile gracing his features, "it was that very sense of idealized, almost-real beauty that sparked a yearning in me."
Jiraiya tried. He really tried to summon up the profound, heartfelt emotion the moment deserved. But overwhelming, soul-crushing embarrassment won. He grabbed fistfuls of his own white hair, rocking back and forth. "GAAAAAAH! No! I can't! I can't handle Orochimaru being this… this sappy!!!"
This was a side of Jiraiya that Naruto had never seen. That Kakashi had never seen. Not even Tsunade. It wasn't the lecher or the wise sage—it was a man reduced to a flustered, utterly human child.
Orochimaru rested his chin on his hand, his smile widening. "Then what should I be like for you to be satisfied?"
Jiraiya stopped, thought about it seriously, and then… he laughed. A real, releasing laugh. "No. The self we see in others' eyes is just self-gratification. Orochimaru… just be yourself. Face me as you truly wish to be. That's enough."
"As I… truly wish to be?"
Orochimaru's gaze grew profound, unreadable.
As Jiraiya turned to look out the window, lost in thought, Orochimaru quietly set down his own cup. He stood. He moved silently behind Jiraiya's seated form.
A wicked grin curled his lips.
He crouched. Brought his hands together. Formed the classic "Tiger" seal with his fingers.
—Konoha's Secret Taijutsu Ultimate: One Thousand Years of Death!
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
Read up to (100+ ) advanced chapters on Patre\on
Visit us here: patreon.com/BingeInk
Happy reading, everyone!