After leaving the medical wing of the Uchiha Guard, Orochimaru figured it was about time for the scheduled training session between Uchiha Shinsuke and Yakushi Kabuto. Curious, he decided to stop by the Uchiha training grounds to observe.
Uchiha Shinsuke did not disappoint. While he added some personal commentary during the training, he was clearly putting in a sincere effort.
Yakushi Kabuto, on the other hand, came from an orphanage and wasn't what you'd call a traditionally trained shinobi. He never received a proper ninja education—his only formal skill was the medical ninjutsu passed down to him by Yakushi Nono.
His time training under Root wasn't exactly nurturing either. He had been treated more like a disposable tool—just another expendable asset to be deployed behind enemy lines. No one expected him to survive long enough to be worth real investment.
Kabuto didn't survive on brute strength. His survival came from strategy—setting traps, stealth, misdirection, and clever thinking.
But this background had left its mark. He had a habit of staying in the shadows, and in direct, face-to-face combat, his hesitation often gave opponents the upper hand.
And there's only one way to fix that kind of habit: beat it out of him.
A body that's been beaten enough learns to move instinctively. Even a clay doll will grow angry. And when the one being beaten suddenly fights back, even someone as emotionally detached as Kabuto can find himself stirred, desperate to strike back—even if it's just at Shinsuke's smug face.
But in Orochimaru's eyes, that kind of payback was far off.
Even with enhancements from the "Yamato-Brand Cell Fusion Fluid," Kabuto's body was barely Chunin-level. His taijutsu? Maybe Genin-level at best.
Uchiha Shinsuke, meanwhile, was a top-tier Jonin, and one of the strongest in that elite group. On top of that, he had the unfair advantage of the Sharingan—his clan's unique doujutsu.
Even if Kabuto tried to rely on cunning or deception, Shinsuke would see right through him.
From a purely physical standpoint, Kabuto had no real chance. No matter how you looked at it, he was outclassed with no clear path forward.
If there's one thing the Uchiha excel at, it's dismantling weak opponents.
So, after watching the predictable beatdown for a few minutes, Orochimaru lost interest and turned to leave.
The Djinn, who had been watching with a grin, sighed and followed, slipping back into place behind him.
---
Elsewhere, in the heart of Konoha, Yamato leaned against the wall of a balcony, basking in the afternoon sun while quietly keeping an eye on Naruto.
Life had been surprisingly good lately.
Ever since he left behind his old boss, Danzo, life had taken a dramatic turn for the better. Under Orochimaru, things were much easier. Sure, he had to cooperate with the occasional experiment, but for the most part, he was left alone. No micromanaging. No suffocating rules.
He had time to make real friends. He'd even caught the attention of the Third Hokage, who brought him into the Anbu as a special Jōnin. The pay was good, and the job? Practically a vacation compared to his old life.
And Yamato knew exactly who he had to thank for that turn of fortune—Orochimaru.
Although Orochimaru still held no formal power in Konoha, the loss of political ambition seemed to have only made his influence grow stronger by the day.
That was exactly why, even after being acknowledged by both Jiraiya and the Third Hokage, Yamato continued to maintain a close relationship with Orochimaru—loyal and committed to carrying out everything Orochimaru asked of him.
He never missed a single day of breathing technique practice or his Wood Release (Mokuton) training. Whenever he had free time, he sought out Guy and Kakashi to discuss and improve his methods.
In addition to his daily training, Yamato would also use his chakra to nourish a transplanted Mangekyō Sharingan—Shisui's eye—in hopes of restoring its power as quickly as possible.
The process had some effect, but the pain it caused far outweighed any progress. His face was already marked with heavy dark circles, he moved like a ghost, and his lips had gone pale and cracked. He looked like someone who had been through hell—enough to make even Kakashi feel guilty. The man went so far as to take back all those... unusual books he had lent out.
Yamato couldn't explain the real reason behind his condition, so he just went along with the rumors. Unfortunately, that made him the subject of some unwanted gossip and behind-the-back jabs.
That was why, during guard duty, Yamato preferred to be alone in the sun—away from his colleagues' teasing looks.
Oddly enough, the sun seemed to help. His mental state always felt a little better under its warmth. The reason wasn't clear—maybe it had something to do with the Sharingan or the Wood Release genes in his body.
Yamato wasn't the kind of person to overthink it. He just knew the afternoon sun felt good.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes—his instincts alert. Before he could react, a figure had appeared in front of him.
Yamato quickly straightened and bowed. "Lord Orochimaru!"
Orochimaru gave a small nod, studying him up and down before pausing at the deep shadows under Yamato's eyes. A flicker of surprise passed across his face. After a short silence, he spoke slowly.
"You're still young—sixteen or seventeen, aren't you? Don't... overdo that sort of thing."
Tears welled up in Yamato's eyes.
…
After some clarification, Orochimaru realized that Yamato's exhausted appearance had nothing to do with that kind of activity. He had misunderstood.
But rather than feel bad, Orochimaru simply decided to pin the blame on Jiraiya.
After all, when he'd entrusted Yamato to Jiraiya's care, he knew this sort of thing might happen. Orochimaru was more than familiar with his old teammate's reckless nature. Misunderstandings were bound to occur.
Shff—
As they were talking, a sudden gust of wind swept in. An Anbu captain, assigned to Naruto's protection detail, appeared.
When he saw Orochimaru, the captain paused briefly, then quickly signaled to his team hidden in the shadows to go fetch the other Sannin.
He bowed respectfully, but didn't leave. Instead, he stayed nearby, clearly assuming a watchful posture.
Orochimaru smiled but didn't take offense. Once Jiraiya arrived, Orochimaru gestured to Yamato and said, "There are some things I need him to handle. I trust you have no objections?"
Jiraiya—holding a baby bottle in one hand and a diaper in the other—glanced at Yamato, then gave a small nod.
This Mokuton kid was originally Orochimaru's anyway. The Third Hokage was only borrowing him temporarily. The fact that Orochimaru even bothered to ask in front of others was already giving Jiraiya face—he wasn't about to object.
What he was more curious about was what Orochimaru wanted from Yamato now.
The Anbu captain saw Jiraiya nod and gave Yamato a signal before returning to his post. Technically, it was against protocol to just walk away from a mission, but since Jiraiya was the commander of the guard detail, the captain wasn't going to cause a scene.
Orochimaru created a shadow clone to escort Yamato away, then turned his gaze back to Jiraiya. He took in the other Sannin's disheveled appearance and smirked.
"Looks like you've had a rough few days."
Jiraiya sighed, brushing at the dirt and wrinkles on his clothing. "Don't even ask. That kid's only five or six months old—and at the age where he can't control his bladder at all."
Orochimaru's expression turned strange. After a long pause, he muttered, "Only you could describe that situation with such... color."
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