/~/
It was all for naught.
For all their skill, for all their experience, for all their vaunted reputation; it all meant nothing against the tireless might of Iwa's war machine.
It was infuriating.
He commanded the forward legion, the tip of the spear that was to break their enemy's lines. The most competent operators placed under his command to lead the offensive that would turn the tide of the war in their favor.
Danzo had been adamant: his men were the best. The best trained, the most well equipped. They followed orders without hesitation. They did not know fear. They did not know pain. They did not know death.
At least not until their worthless lives are snuffed out, he thought with vitriol, striding through the camp.
Iwa's strategy was clear: throw enough semi-competent bodies at a problem, and the problem would probably go away. His offensive – if it could even be called such – had been halted less than two days into Grass Country.
His strategies meant little when there were two fresh bodies leaping to take the place of the one that had just been cut down. It was nothing but a numbers game. Iwa had more, Konoha had less. There was no nuance, and that vexed him to end.
For all his training and his jutsu, for all his genius, he could not outsmart this problem. He had been outsmarted on the battlefield before, and it hurt, but it could be borne. He was not yet the greatest shinobi in the land. But to be beaten back by sheer bullheadedness was unconscionable.
He had nearly taken the field himself in a fit of pique, wishing nothing more than to slaughter the zealots Iwa threw against him to a man. Only his rationality had held him back; given enough numbers and even he could be overrun. It had happened to shinobi greater than he, and while Iwa's death squads were no Kinkaku Force, it was a risk he couldn't afford to take.
His immortality wasn't secured yet.
Making matters worse was the news from the eastern front. One of Iwa's jinchuuriki had abandoned the fight and was making his way towards Grass Country. Jiraiya had beaten back Kumo's latest push personally – aided as it was by Iwa's monsters – but had sustained heavy losses and was falling back into Fire Country for reinforcements.
Which boded ill for him. Iwa's legion had been dealing him steady losses over the two months since he'd launched the offensive through Grass Country; contending with a jinchuuriki would push the already unfavorable situation over the edge of being untenable.
He crested the ridge that overlooked the war zone that had been carved out of the forest. Downed trees had been turned to sawdust in the routine clashes, discarded branches and debris from doton jutsu littering the currently deserted battleground. Subtlety had been thrown to the wind once Iwa's legion had beaten back his first strike and, amid mounting casualties, he had summoned Manda to cut a swath through the foliage. The great snake had pushed forward at his command, but he too had been halted after a time.
It had likely saved the battalion from utter obliteration in those first days, however, as Iwa's retaliatory strikes had come fast and brutally. An uneasy stalemate had persisted for the better part of the last two months, each of his subtle incursions rebuffed by overwhelming manpower, and each of Iwa's fended off with mounting desperation.
He sneered, looking down upon the ruination, knowing, as he had for nearly two months, that this battle was lost. The early stirrings of distress gnawed at his mind. He cared little for his home village outside a very select few, but its destruction was not something he had adequately planned for. For all its irritations, Konoha had resources that he hadn't had the time to amass for himself. Resources that he needed.
All plans are amended, he consoled himself, carefully schooling his expression as he felt one of his men approach.
He turned, and the young looking man snapped a quick salute. "Orochimaru-sama," he intoned without inflection, much like the rest of his soldiers. "Konoha shinobi have entered camp. They requested your presence."
Orochimaru nodded once, dismissing the messenger with a wave of his hand, his hackles rising. He had requested reinforcements from Konoha a week ago – he had but five full platoons left, one hundred men – and his pride still hurt at the request's necessity. It would hurt more if this battle was lost entirely, however, and he mastered himself as he strode purposefully back into the encampment.
Yellow eyes took in the tents without truly seeing them as he made his way back to his command center. He threw the flap back without ceremony, only to be greeted by the sight of Jiraiya's apprentice and Uzushiogakure's last secret.
His eyes narrowed as he took in Uzumaki Kushina's appearance, mind flitting briefly to her disgraced – and now deceased – sensei. Brief fury flashed through him; Hatake Sakumo had gotten all of them into this mess.
"Yes?" he hissed, eyes settling on Namikaze Minato's young frame. The boy was barely twenty, and the dark green vest that marked him a jonin was too pristine to have seen much combat.
"Orochimaru-san," the blond demurred, stepping forward. "You requested reinforcements. We are here to turn back Iwa's tide and help you push forward toward Earth Country."
The sannin blinked, his eyebrows inching toward his hairline. He could feel no other chakra presences nearby that weren't the men already under his command. Only these two were new. "Surely you must be joking…"
A brief bit of amusement passed through Namikaze's eyes before it was quelled, replaced instead by a calm that seemed almost melancholy. "I'm afraid not," he said, and the redhead placed a soft hand upon his arm, as if in support.
Yellow eyes glanced back and forth between the two, finally settling on the last Uzumaki. He was one of a few who knew what the girl contained, but he had been told that the nature of her seal prevented the Kyuubi's power from being tapped.
Today is just full of surprises, he mused. Konoha's situation was dire indeed if Sarutobi-sensei was deploying a jinchuuriki. He had steadfastly refused all suggestions of doing so before, despite the urging of the elders.
"I see," the sannin said, mind already awhirl at how to best utilize the new weapon at his disposal. The Kyuubi's power could open up many avenues to breaking Iwa's line. "What preparations do you require?"
"The preparations are complete," Namikaze said. He gestured to the flap of the command tent, and Orochimaru led them outside. "Can you take us to the front?"
The snake sannin said nothing, electing to stride back in the direction from which he had come, the young pair easily keeping pace with him. The trio crested the ridge he had stood upon minutes before, looking down at the neutral zone.
"Iwa's forces are just beyond the tree line," he told the two. "They respond in force to anyone they detect, mobilizing with overwhelming numbers no matter the size of the threat."
Namikaze nodded absently. "That's good. Our intelligence indicates that they have a force between three and five hundred holding this line, with another garrison ten miles north, providing support. We have to force the garrison into a retreat before Han arrives."
Orochimaru nodded at the mention of the Gobi jinchuuriki's approach, the boy's intelligence matching his own. "My men are ready to move at my command. They will flood the forest once Iwa's front line is broken. With your frontal assault occupying the garrison, we can flank from the east and rout them."
"Your men will…not be necessary," Namikaze said. "Instruct them to move once the initial fighting has been pushed past the tree line, but there's no need to expose ourselves to more casualties now. They'll be necessary to maintain the push deeper into Grass once Kushina and I leave."
Orochimaru stared at the boy, askance. There wasn't much that surprised him anymore, but it seemed the blond jonin had learned more than jutsu from his sensei. Is the Kyuubi's power so great? he wondered. He had never fought a jinchuuriki personally, but knew well that they could turn the fortunes of a battle with their sheer presence. They were aberrations, utterly outside the rules of normal shinobi.
The blond held out a scroll that was sealed with Sarutobi-sensei's personal seal. The sannin took it but didn't open it. Its presence alone meant that the Hokage had signed off on this bewildering operation – Namikaze wouldn't place his lover in such a situation without the Sandaime's express order.
"As you say," Orochimaru said quietly.
Namikaze sighed, eyes fluttering shut. Uzumaki stepped in front of him and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tightly.
"You know I love you," she told the blond as he gingerly put his arms around her.
"I love you too," he said.
"No matter what," she said fiercely.
Namikaze opened his eyes and favored the redhead with a slight smile. "I know, Kushina. Thank you." Uzumaki said nothing, but pulled his head forward into a heated kiss.
Orochimaru looked on with dispassion, quelling his momentary impatience at having to wait to see the Kyuubi's power. Who was he to rush the young lovers? He had no need for such affection, but it may well be the last time the two would see each other. The odds were long even for a jinchuuriki.
The blond rested his forehead on Uzumaki's for a long moment before pulling back, laying a soft kiss upon the girl's brow. He untangled himself from her arms a second later, and stepped forward.
"I'll be right behind you," the redhead told his back, and the sannin felt his eyes narrow. Namikaze nodded once and leapt off the ridge into the neutral zone without a word.
What? Orochimaru thought, utterly baffled.
"Once Minato advances, I'll head down to pick off anyone he left behind. The Hokage says we can't afford to take prisoners," Uzumaki said, distaste coloring her voice. "Send your men in once I make it to the trees."
"Wait," Orochimaru said, confusion overwhelming him. "Namikaze is engaging them on his own?" he asked, askance, even as red clothed bodies rushed onto the battlefield.
"He'll be fine," Uzumaki said, calm despite the ludicrousness that was unfolding.
Against two garrisons? The sannin knew his mouth was agape, but couldn't muster the fortitude to close it. He circulated his chakra, ready to leap to the boy's defense before he was overrun – he held no affection for Namikaze, but the boy was undeniably talented. His death would be yet another reprehensible waste in this war, never mind Jiraiya's reaction when he found out his prized pupil died under his watch.
He turned to the battlefield, only to still as Uzumaki laid a hand on his left arm. "You'll only get in his way," she told him, violet eyes staring at him without a hint of jest.
Orochimaru narrowed his own at her, surveying her for a moment before he ripped his arm out of her grip. "If you wish so badly to see your lover slaughtered, I won't stop you," he hissed. "But I'll let you explain to my teammate just how he died."
Musical laughter that somehow managed to convey nothing but condescending derision met his proclamation. He felt his hackles rise, and stifled the urge to end the impudent girl's life as she said, "You'll see. You'll all see."
He turned his eyes to the battlefield to see no less than three full platoons rushing to meet Namikaze. The blond strode toward them purposefully and tossed three oddly shaped kunai in a lazy arc. The three multiplied into dozens that fell upon the advancing shinobi, but Orochimaru knew it wouldn't be nearly enough.
"Blink and you'll miss it," Uzumaki quipped snidely from beside him, and the snake sannin heeded her warily as Namikaze disappeared without fanfare.
What jutsu is this?
Before he had the time to think anything else, his eyes managed to catch a brief glimpse of blond hair before an Iwa nin crumpled soundlessly to the ground. He was followed by another. And another. And another, the only herald of their death a flash of sunlit hair that disappeared just as suddenly as it came.
A full platoon was dead by the time Orochimaru had blinked twice. A shout had gone up from one of the remaining Iwa shinobi for backup, but another platoon had been cut down by the time more men had burst from the tree line.
There were no screams as the third platoon met their deaths, Namikaze apparently moving too fast even for panicked cries to manifest.
"How on earth…" the sannin breathed, even as the blond paused to survey the dead before plucking two of his kunai from the ground, hurling them at the oncoming enemies, and disappearing once more.
"Hiraishin no jutsu," Uzumaki said as a dozen more men fell like puppets with their strings cut. Shouts of alarm were beginning to sound, the Iwa shinobi unsure of what exactly was befalling them. They began to stand back to back or in groups of four, but they fell just as quickly as they moved, utterly powerless against Namikaze's incomprehensible speed. "It's his masterpiece."
"No one can move that quickly."
From the corner of his eyes, he saw the redhead's lips quirk up. "He can."
The Iwa shinobi had taken less than a minute to lose over a hundred men, and had stopped advancing toward the blur that was Namikaze, instead turning tail and fleeing into the cover of the trees. Orochimaru couldn't tell how many made it into the forest, his mind solely occupied with processing just what was happening before his very eyes.
This was unprecedented. He knew power. He had seen it. He had fought it. He possessed it. There were dozens of jutsu that could level battlefields and claim dozens of lives at a time.
But this?
Iwa's force was comprised mostly of elite chunin, with tokubetsu jonin interspersed throughout to command platoons. They were seasoned, battle hardened, and had rebuffed Konoha's advances with aplomb for two months.
And they didn't have time to react to what was befalling them. The last of the visible shinobi had dispersed into a discombobulated retreat at the sight of their slaughtered comrades. Namikaze followed them into the trees without hesitation, and the sounds of panic echoed eerily from the forest across the now empty battlefield.
"We've got a minute before the rest of the garrison is dead. Maybe two," Uzumaki declared, startling Orochimaru from his stupor. The redhead hopped down from the ridge and began walking deliberately across the corpse strewn field. The sannin followed her a moment later, eyes wide and a disturbing tingling raising the hairs on the back of his neck.
He felt his heartbeat pick up as he matched Uzumaki stride for stride, passing the first bodies. The redhead paid them no heed, but Orochimaru's sharp eyes flittered from corpse to corpse, taking in the precise slashes and incisions that marked each. Some had their jugulars sliced neatly open, blood pooling around their heads as they rested in death. Others had a single stab at the base of their neck, their cervical vertebrae severed. The stench of death assaulted his nostrils, released bowels filling the air with the scent of sewage.
Uzumaki carelessly flipped the body of an Iwa-nin over. The man's eyes were wide, panicked, and frozen in death, and Orochimaru withheld a shudder.
He used his foot to turn yet another corpse over, and was greeted by the sight of a snarl forever etched on a woman's face. She hadn't had time to process her life ending before it was snuffed out. He couldn't stop the shudder the wracked his body at the sight.
Orochimaru felt beads of sweat begin to pool at the base of his neck and he realized, as if from a great distance, that he was terrified. The emotion was so foreign that he stopped in his tracks, staring down at one of the leftover kunai. At this distance, he could see that it had three prongs and had what looked to be a seal wrapped around it.
"Fuuinjutsu," he breathed even as the kunai kage bunshin disappeared in a puff of smoke.
"Minato's mark," he heard Uzumaki call; she had advanced ten meters ahead of him, frozen as he was. "You coming?" she asked rhetorically, turning and walking toward the now silent forest. "He didn't leave any of them alive."
The snake sannin mastered himself with a thought, appalled at his own weakness, but powerless to stop the rapid beating of his heart. What a terrifying ninjutsu…
The duo reached the trees a few moments later, and were greeted, unsurprisingly, by even more corpses. The Iwa encampment, which Orochimaru had barely glimpsed on the first day of combat, was a ghost town. Weapons were strewn across the ground, discarded in death before they had had the time to be used. Dozens of corpses were face down on the forest floor, clearly cut down as they tried to run.
Uzumaki made her way over to a large tent that was clearly the command center and slipped in. Orochimaru followed, and was greeted by the sight of a burly, flat nosed man dressed in Iwa fatigues bound and shaking. The very much alive man – a jonin – whimpered at the sight of the two Konoha shinobi, and the snake sannin quickly schooled his features into the appropriate visage of disdain.
He would show no weakness here, despite the sweat beading on his neck. "Kitsuchi," he hissed at the man who commanded Iwa's forward legions. "We seem to have you at a disadvantage, old friend."
Beady black eyes stared right through him without seeing him, and the goateed man just shook his head.
"It's done," Namikaze's voice spoke from beside Uzumaki, and Orochimaru nearly jumped, yellow eyes flying to the blond. He hadn't felt a thing; no surge of chakra indicative of the body flicker. Nothing at all. One moment he wasn't there, the next he was. Without warning.
"All of them?" Uzumaki asked, her arms sliding around her lovers waist. Namikaze nodded silently.
Two garrisons…slaughtered by one man. In minutes. The snake sannin tore his eyes away from the young jonin with effort, refocusing on the bound commander in front of them.
"You appear to have missed one," he quipped, managing to keep his voice level through sheer force of will.
Namikaze nodded to his lover, and the redhead unwound herself. The blond stepped forward and behind the terrified man, a single motion freeing him. Namikaze stepped in front of the Iwa-nin once more, staring down at him. The jonin managed to muster up what looked like righteous fury in his eyes for the man who had singlehandedly massacred his entire force. It was tempered by the utter horror just beneath the surface that was visible to everyone in the room.
"You're free to go," Namikaze told the jonin who had gingerly climbed to his feet.
"You killed them," Kitsuchi managed to croak.
"I did. You should report back to your father."
"You killed all of them," the Iwa jonin repeated, taking a step back.
Orochimaru felt the slightest of smiles break through the haze of the last few minutes. "I believe you broke him, Minato-kun," he chuckled.
The sannin's words seemed to break the Iwa commander from his shock, black eyes finding Orochimaru before widening and moving back to Namikaze. He took another step back, clearly processing his situation, before disappearing in a puff of smoke.
Namikaze sighed, and Uzumaki threaded her arms about his neck from behind, leaning up to whisper in his ear. The blond nodded after a second of contemplation, and turned to face Orochimaru. The sannin, through every ounce of willpower he possessed, held his ground without a flinch.
"Our work here is done, Orochimaru-san. Your men will be able to move into Grass unimpeded. Iwa has men stationed twenty miles from the northern border, and the Hokage believes you'll be able to deal with them," the blond said robotically.
The sannin nodded absently, surveying the boy. There were no signs of fatigue about him, and his chakra levels were hardly lower than when he had appeared in his camp – less than ten minutes previous. The only sign of strain was the slightest tightening around the boy's eyes.
"Where will you go?" he asked the duo.
"The eastern front," Namikaze answered. "Jiraiya-sensei is having some trouble with Kiri and Kumo and we're to even the playing field a bit for him."
Orochimaru nodded absently, eyes drifting to Uzumaki, who was still draped over her lover for reasons unknown, the duo oddly subdued given the great victory they had created. He, himself, wasn't one for celebration, but most of his comrades were.
"Give Jiraiya my regards," he told them, a hint of sardonic humor entering his voice at the thought of his bumbling squad mate. Leave, he commanded silently.
Namikaze nodded. The boy reached into his leg pouch and withdrew a three pronged kunai, the same seal emblazoned on it that apparently gifted the boy with the ability to murder hundreds in mere moments. The blond tossed it to him, and he plucked it from the air on reflex alone, feeling his heartbeat pick up once more as he held the weapon.
"So I can come back quickly if you need support," Namikaze said. "Good luck, Orochimaru-san."
The duo was gone before he had time to blink, no sound or smoke to signal their departure. Yellow eyes turned to stare down at the seal on Namikaze's weapon, searching, mind curiously blank.
Fuuinjutsu wasn't his forte – Jiraiya had always been far more interested in the arcane study. The seal was indecipherable, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that whatever it did was outside the realm of his understanding.
No sound. No chakra surge. No warning.
When his lieutenant found him in the tent some minutes later, he handed the man the kunai.
With strict orders that it be kept far away from him.
/~/
He drew himself from his musings with a satisfied exhale. He stood amidst a maelstrom of blond and knew vindication. His apprentice's doppelgangers flittered from shadows to light and back to shadows as they flickered through the trees that surrounded their camp. In the middle, weight resting on the palms of his hands as he braced his core, was the original.
Orochimaru's lips quirked at the peculiar meditative position. If the minor exertion helped the boy focus, he wouldn't force him to change. Individuality breeds interesting outcomes, he mused. Results were what mattered in the end.
His right earring shifted with the displaced air as a clone passed close by. The boy's chakra control had improved tremendously in the short months he'd been with him, and even more so in recent days. The Kyuubi's chakra was more volatile than any he'd encountered before; unsurprisingly considering the being it belonged to. Naruto's wrestling of it had done wonders for his own chakra control.
Sharp eyes followed the clone as it bounded from the forest floor to the canopy and through the branches. A second clone blurred past it, on its way back down, and Orochimaru switched his focus as it paused for a split second and tore off to the left. It zigzagged violently, pushing the limits of the body flicker before slamming unceremoniously into a tree trunk. He glanced back to the original as the clone dispersed into chakra smoke, but Naruto didn't so much as twitch.
Still room for improvement. Orochimaru was thankful Jiraiya had bestowed Minato's shunshin notes on the boy. It was a blessing that one of the Yellow Flash's signature advantages would be working to further his goals in short order. Naruto's Kage Bunshin training couldn't impart physical prowess, but the knowledge gained was invaluable. He'd already gotten over a day of training in the two hours since sunrise.
It was time for something more direct, however. "Apprentice," he said softly, voice carrying to the nearly two dozen blondes with a small application of wind chakra. He suppressed a smile as they all froze, from the clones furthest in the forest to the two attempting the leaf soaking exercise behind a nearby tree. "To me."
Twenty three puffs blanketed the clearing in chakra smoke for a moment. When it cleared, Naruto was kneeled in front of him. "Orochimaru-sama."
The snake Sannin surveyed the bowed blond. They were some two months from his fourteenth birthday, and the changes of the last six months were beginning to reveal themselves. He had grown, the malnutrition of his early youth conquered at last with the combination of proper diet and Kabuto's therapies. Naruto would never be imposing the way Kumo's Hachibi was, his genetics wouldn't allow for it, but he would be packed with muscle given time.
Not for the first time did he marvel at Konoha's utter lack of vision. He had known sentiment had softened Sarutobi in his old age, but to the extent to leave their greatest asset ripe for the picking? Absurdity, he thought shaking his head slightly. They had left the boy unattended, and for what? The hope of a childhood?
A small part of him was disappointed in how far his former sensei had fallen before his death. The larger part was all too happy to capitalize.
"You have improved." Orochimaru motioned for the boy to rise, and he did. The top of the boy's head reached his shoulder now, he noted with satisfaction. "By the end of this trip you will have my blessing to hunt them." Eyes that were somewhere between blue and purple widened slightly, and the snake Sannin saw naked anticipation warring with dread. He chuckled. "Is that fear I sense in you, my friend?"
Naruto's expression shuttered immediately. "No," he declared, as if trying to speak it into existence.
"You are not yet gifted enough to lie to me, apprentice," Orochimaru returned, infusing his voice with a hint of wrath. The jinchuuriki didn't flinch, but chagrin flashed across his face briefly. Good boy. "But worry not," he said magnanimously. "You will not be hunting for the likes of Itachi just yet."
The young blond blinked. "I don't understand," he said at length.
Orochimaru turned and strode from the clearing into the trees; Naruto hastened to follow. "The first thing to know about Akatsuki, Naruto-kun, is that they are more a network than an organization. Those that hunt you are the most dangerous, but even shinobi of their caliber cannot be everywhere at once. They are supported by numerous cogs, cells, and agents that act as eyes and ears. Occasionally, if a member needs replacing, one may be called up."
Naruto processed this, face closed. "How many are there?" he asked quietly.
"A question only one man could answer, I'm afraid," Orochimaru declared. He banished the distaste for Pein to the furthest reaches of his mind. Neutralizing that man was a task for another day. "Just know that they have people everywhere. The leader has done an admirable job of cultivating a reputation for Akatsuki across the continent. You couldn't find a nuke-nin above C-rank that hasn't heard of them."
"They recruit that many people?" the young blond asked, askance and a trifle terrified.
"They do not have to recruit. It is unlikely you will ever experience the reality most nuke-nin face. It is not an enviable existence. Akatsuki offers a semblance of stability for those who can provide valuable services." Orochimaru chuckled darkly, impressed with Pein's reach in spite of himself. "Most would trip over themselves to be of use."
"And these are gonna be the ones I'm hunting?"
The snake Sannin withheld a smile at Naruto's single-minded focus. He was never cowed for long. "They are. You will begin with those I'm familiar with from my time with Akatsuki; eventually you will be researching and following up on your own leads."
Orochimaru turned abruptly, pinning his apprentice in place with his gaze. "Make no mistake, while Akatsuki is happy to employ the dregs of our world, they also utilize shinobi of some talent. More than one that I know of could kill you as you are now if you are not careful. I would hate to see your potential wasted so."
Defiance crossed the boy's face for a moment before he got control of his expression. He still does not believe me, Orochimaru mused with some humor.
After a moment, Naruto nodded resolutely. "I won't fail."
"You will not." The snake Sannin halted, satisfied with the density of the forest around them. The trees were newer here, growing closer together and leaving less room for maneuverability. He snatched a scroll from his single utility pouch and unfurled it in one smooth motion.
Two puffs of smoke heralded the arrival of twin jian blades. He tossed one to Naruto, which the blond caught without a blink. Question was written plain across his whiskered face; Orochimaru allowed himself a smile.
"It is time that I took a more active interest in your training. There is much we will develop on this trip. This is part."
Naruto glanced down at the simple, unadorned, dual edged sword in his grip. "I've never used a sword before," he said unnecessarily.
"You will learn."
His apprentice wordlessly tested the balance of the blade before giving it a few experimental slashes. Orochimaru felt his lip curl and snapped, "Do not bandy it about like a common kunai. It is an extension of your arm and your will."
Naruto stopped waving it about – thank the heavens – and turned to regard him, a brow raised challengingly. "I thought all weapons were an extension of my will," he said, parroting an age old shinobi axiom.
"Some require more elegance in their wielding, apprentice."
Indigo eyes flashed. "Will you finally be teaching me, then?" he asked snidely.
The snake Sannin withheld a grin. Impudent boy. "Is experience not the greatest teacher? You will never grow if you cannot learn from your own mistakes."
"Life's too short to only learn from my own mistakes."
It sounded like something Jiraiya would have said, and Orochimaru chuckled deep and low. "Then come," he ordered, beckoning.
Naruto waited a second, adjusted his grip to something approaching acceptable, and lowered himself into an athletic crouch, the jian pointed directly forward. He lunged forward, edge poised to skewer Orochimaru, and the Sannin turned him aside with a negligent flick of his wrist.
The blond spun with the parry and brought the blade around in a two handed slash at his chest. Orochimaru took a single step back, letting the swing pass harmlessly in front of him. His apprentice shifted forward, changing tactics by dropping a hand from the sword and swiping at the Sannin's ankles. It met Orochimaru's jian with a high pitched, keening note.
The snake Sannin smirked. Good instincts. He flashed inside Naruto's guard with a single step, hooked his left foot around the blonde's extended right, and slashed at the neck.
Naruto barely got his blade up in time to block the blow, and was sent sprawling to the dirt as the kinetic force caused him to trip over Orochimaru's foot. "To use a blade properly, you must fight with your feet first," the Sannin instructed. "Never extend outside of your power base. Any competent shinobi will exploit your lack of balance."
His apprentice rose, fuming at the indignity. "I thought you only cared about ninjutsu," he murmured.
"Just because ninjutsu is the greatest of the shinobi arts does not give you leave to neglect the others." As you'll soon learn. "Did you learn nothing from Kimimaro?"
Naked aggression flashed across Naruto's face at the mention of the dead Kaguya. He dropped into a ready stance once more. Orochimaru raised a taunting brow, and he slashed forward with a grunt.
"You telegraph your strikes," the Sannin said, lazily stepping away from a downward slice. "Would you so blatantly reveal your intentions with your knives?" he asked, ducking a slash at his face.
Naruto tucked his elbows closer to his chest, took two steps, and stabbed out. He halted his strike midway through, pivoting quickly into a cut at Orochimaru's knees. Not biting on the feint, the Sannin hopped over the strike, landed light as a feather, and planted a straight kick into the blond.
Still in the midst of his slash, Naruto tumbled inelegantly as Orochimaru kicked him in the direction of his inertia. He flashed to his feet without hesitation. Small, quick steps carried him back in range where he slashed diagonally down at Orochimaru's left hip. The blades met with a 'clang' and the blond stabbed immediately upward at the Sannin's neck.
A minor application of chakra allowed him to contort his way around the strike. Naruto was left extending at nothing but air, though he wasn't over extended Orochimaru noted, pleased. The blond rotated about, lashing out in a horizontal slash that the Sannin blocked. He held the blades together for a moment, making note of Naruto's controlled breathing and balance. He adapts quickly.
He shoved the boy back inelegantly, changing tactics. Naruto stumbled a step but righted himself in time to block another cut at his throat. "Block with the flat side," Orochimaru instructed. He twisted his wrist, sliding his blade over the top of Naruto's and down, halting only when the edge had bitten into the boy's hand. "Never allow you opponent to gain leverage."
He allowed his apprentice to step back, hissing. "Isn't that why blades have cross-guards?"
"Your hands will be the least of your concerns if you let an opponent reach a dominant position, apprentice."
The boy glared at him, baleful. "Where'd you learn this, anyway?"
Orochimaru's lips quirked. "Sarutobi-sensei sent me to train with a samurai for six months when I was your age. He thought it would teach me humility."
At the mention of the deceased Hokage, Naruto burst forward with a cry. That will not do.
Parrying a heavy overhead strike, Orochimaru pushed upward and threw Naruto's guard wide open. Indigo eyes widened in time for a kick to crash into his solar plexus and throw him backward. He flew for a moment before crashing ignobly into a tree trunk, cracking it.
Orochimaru was in front of him in flash, pressing his jian into Naruto's throat hard enough to draw blood. "You do not attack in anger."
"Yes, Orochimaru-sama," the jinchuuriki wheezed.
"Your emotions must be in check at all times. How can you hope to defeat Akatsuki if the mere mention of a dead man sends you into a rage?" he asked rhetorically.
"I understand."
"Do you? You ask to be turned loose against our enemies with such glaring weaknesses." He shook his head. "My old comrades do not share my penchant for mercy."
"It won't happen again," Naruto growled.
The snake Sannin pressed the blade tighter against the boy's throat for two seconds before relenting. "Talent is nothing without a mind to guide it. You possess the former in spades. Do not let it go to waste." He stepped back, giving Naruto room to stand, which he did haltingly.
"It's not that easy," the blond gritted out, fighting to keep his voice level.
"Not with Konoha's training still fresh in your mind, I imagine," Orochimaru allowed. He paused, pondered, and changed his approach. "You are familiar with both of my former teammates." The boy nodded, a quizzical look in his eye. "Exceptional shinobi. In conjunction, they would be more than capable of ending me. Yet when we met, they did not, despite me being in no condition to fight."
He let the implied question hang suspended between them. "They, along with all Konoha shinobi, possess a fatal flaw. Sentiment. They are ruled by it. It leads them to hesitate, to lose focus. Do you know how the Third Great War started?"
Naruto shook his head, and Orochimaru continued, immersed in his instruction. "Hatake Sakumo was given a mission as tensions escalated between Konoha, Iwa, and Kumo. He and his team were to sabotage an exchange of jinchuuriki. If done properly, it would have left Iwa and Kumo at each other's throats. He failed not because he was overwhelmed by force or struck down by poor information. No, he failed because, when his team was threatened, he abandoned his mission to save their lives. His actions, which exposed Konoha's interference, solidified the alliance, and began hostilities in earnest."
He spread his arms wide. "Sentiment," Orochimaru declared. "It is unlikely your mistakes will result in the death of thousands. Your own life, however, is very much at stake."
Naruto was quiet for a minute; Orochimaru let the silence hang heavy, allowing the boy time to process. Nothing grabbed his attention like the imminent threat to his life.
"I understand," his apprentice said at length, voice subdued.
"You will eventually." Baleful indigo eyes rose to glare at him. "Do you believe that you can so quickly leave Konoha's teachings behind when you've, as yet, failed to do so?"
"…no."
"Then do not glare at me for stating the obvious." He punctuated the statement with a spike of killing intent, and only barely kept an eyebrow from rising at Naruto's lack of reaction. Perhaps the Kyuubi inundates him. It would require investigation. Fear likely wasn't needed to truly keep the boy in line anymore, but he knew he couldn't claim Naruto's allegiance fully. Theirs was a partnership of necessity; Naruto had no other options and knew it well. But he would be lax if he didn't carefully steer the headstrong blond while the greater partnership was solidified. The Four will be instrumental.
"Stand up, Naruto-kun," he ordered, banishing greater plans to the furthest reaches of his mind. "Your training is not finished today."
The blond pushed himself to his feet, the jian had shifted in his grip. It was reversed, similar to how he knew Naruto wielded his knives. Unorthodox. The boy formed a cross-shaped seal around the handle. Orochimaru grinned widely as three additional blonds appeared from smoke, tongue lolling to the side.
"I don't remember giving you leave to use ninjutsu," he declared, watching as two of the clones readjusted their grip to something more traditional.
"You said I would learn. Let me learn." And there was that delightful defiance.
"As you say, apprentice."
It was all the invitation Naruto needed. Orochimaru turned aside a reverse slash at his torso then spun out of the way of twin stabs, one at his neck and the other at his legs. He caught a clone's jian before it could carve his eyes out and leveraged it into the path of its twin. He maneuvered his blade into a vertical parry that halted the third clone's diagonal slash at his exposed back. Sidestepping, he brought the final clone into focus. It managed to block a lightning fast stab, eyes wide at the sudden ferocity, and was powerless as Orochimaru swept its legs before a heel kick to the temple sent it sprawling.
It dispelled a moment later, leaving just two and the original, who was watching with narrowed eyes. Orochimaru turned back to the other two in time for one to feint forward, only for the second to slash its jian upward. The Sannin leaned back to avoid getting sliced open from hip to shoulder, inwardly pleased at the boy's combat instincts. The strikes were clumsy and still far too telegraphed to land, but Naruto was a quick study.
Orochimaru blocked two simultaneous slashes at his heart. He pushed back and felt his eyes widen as both clones dispelled into smoke. He righted himself in time to parry an upward slash from the original who blurred into the space his clones had just vacated, flipping backward with the momentum and to create space.
A delighted cackle slipped past his lips. The boy was learning, indeed. He formed a half ram seal and the wind howled, forcing Naruto into a crouch and anchored to keep from being blown away.
Orochimaru watched as the blonde's eyes bled from indigo to violet and blinked as Uzumaki Kushina's face stared back at him in full. The legacy of a once great clan, bred together with the might of Konoha's Yellow Flash. Glorious.
The effect disappeared as whisker marks deepened and elongated and incisors sharpened into fangs. Orochimaru marveled at the raw potential standing opposite him and allowed himself a moment of unadulterated satisfaction.
The moment passed and he shifted his own grip to mirror Naruto's. If this was to be a true spar, it would be wasteful not to experiment for himself.
/~/
Naruto plopped down to the delight of his gelatinous limbs. He exhaled hard, leaned his head back against a tree trunk, and thanked whatever gods that existed for having learned the kage bunshin. His clones were doing the heavy lifting setting up camp, and it was only through sheer numbers and the threat of Orochimaru that made them any semblance of efficient. For all the chakra he had, he'd only ever been more tired after fighting the Ichibi.
The snake Sannin was sat cross legged in the middle of the clearing they were to call home for the night. A brush was in hand as he made what Naruto was sure were elegant strokes on a scroll, the contents of which he couldn't bother being interested in.
Not bad for the first day, he mused. For all that his blood boiled at the sight of the pale man, he couldn't deny that he was an effective teacher. Most of the 'kenjutsu' work was immediately relatable to his taijutsu. And the sheer experience of squaring up against one of the Sannin could never be understated – never mind doing it with the kage bunshin feedback loop. He was certain he'd learned more in one day with Orochimaru than he had the previous six months combined.
He was simultaneously giddy and livid at the thought.
The last of his clones, having set up camp, dispelled. Naruto let his eyes drift shut for a single, glorious moment. The day's exhaustion hit him all at once; they'd trained for two hours at kenjutsu before Orochimaru had decided to continue their trek in a mock running battle. He'd simply herded the blond in the direction of wherever they were going.
Naruto's lips quirked upward at the fact that, for all their differences, Jiraiya and Orochmaru taught in remarkably similar ways.
A spike of killing intent saw his eyes opening before he could peruse the thought in any real detail, and he quelled his irritation. It was Orochimaru's preferred way of getting his attention and, while it couldn't hold a candle to the Kyuubi sealed in his gut, it wasn't insubstantial.
The snake Sannin's pasty face stared back at him, utterly impassive per usual. "I don't remember giving you leave to rest, apprentice," the older man said, his sibilant voice doing its best to raise the hairs on Naruto's arms.
Quelling rebellious thoughts before they could truly form, Naruto fought to keep his face blank – Orochimaru was far too good at recognizing emotions even before they were truly expressed.
"I had thought we were finished for the day," he managed after a moment. "My apologies." He rose on tired legs that felt like they were inches from giving out. No weakness, he chided himself. Catching himself before he could stumble, he reached desperately for the Kyuubi's chakra.
It suffused him in an instant, and Naruto barely kept himself from moaning in abject relief as the exhaustion was wiped from his limbs like it'd never been there. Orochimaru surveyed him for a moment and the blond forced himself not to fidget. He always felt like a specimen under one of Kabuto's microscopes when the Sannin stared at him.
Like he was being dissected and being pieced back together.
"Your training will never be finished," Orochimaru declared, lips peeling back in a mimicry of a smile.
Violet eyes narrowed. "Isn't proper rest just as important for development?" Naruto asked, more out of a desire to be contrary than any hope of getting out of whatever was planned for him. His master had loosened his rope regarding the blonde's barbed tongue, and he planned to take full advantage.
"Ah, but jinchuuriki don't play by the same rules as other shinobi, do they. Surely you know this by now, my friend."
Naruto couldn't help his grimace. Every teacher he'd had since Asuma had demonstrated that in one way or another, though training him through nothing but combat seemed to be a constant. He wouldn't even feel today's bruises when he woke up tomorrow. Kimimaro had beaten him within an inch of his life more than once and he'd been back two days later each time. He'd never been ready for it, but the sheer fact that he could made him different.
"Aberrations," Orochimaru continued, speaking more to himself than Naruto. "Faster, stronger, more durable. Bodies more malleable. We will be pushing your limits this trip, Naruto-kun, rest assured."
Anticipation warred with wariness in his gut at the words. He shoved them aside with what was becoming practiced ease. "Thank you, Orochimaru-sama," he ground out.
A slim eyebrow rose. "I thought you would be more excited to begin truly bridging the chasm between Akatsuki and yourself."
The older man seemed to take perverse pleasure in making him spell out every emotion that wasn't gratitude at his benevolence. "It's been a long day," was all Naruto said, refusing to bow.
Yellow eyes pinned him in place with such force he was surprised killing intent hadn't been used. While the Kyuubi's unrelenting malevolence had inundated him to the Sannin's more banal chakra, being mentally taken apart was far from enjoyable. "And so it has," Orochimaru allowed after a few seconds. "Sit. Training need not be physical."
"Thank you, Orochimaru-sama," Naruto said again, actually meaning it. He held tightly to the Kyuubi's chakra regardless as he dropped, not convinced he wouldn't need it.
"Tell me, apprentice, how many jutsu have you mastered?"
Naruto blinked at the non sequitur. He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. What sounded like a straight forward question was likely primed like an explosive tag; Orochimaru didn't ask simple questions. "How do you define 'mastered'?" he asked in lieu of answering.
The older man leaned back, approval radiating outward, and the blond quelled a traitorous thread of satisfaction at the reaction.
"A very good question. For our purposes, consider mastery discovering the upper limits of what a jutsu is capable of, and understanding not just how to use it, but when is most optimal in any given situation."
Or when not to, was implied. Naruto cocked his head, considering. He knew precious few jutsu in the grand scheme of things; fewer than twenty, in fact. Gonna have to rectify that, he realized. He knew four fuuton techniques, two katon and was reverse engineering a third, three doton techniques, and the rasengan. The rest were supplementary techniques like the kawarimi and shunshin. As far as the 'upper limits'?
"Zero," he said at length. The closest was probably the rasengan – it was hard to see how it could be any better than it currently was – but he decided to err on the side of caution.
"Indeed. Your knowledge of the jutsu you have accrued is adequate, yet you do not truly understand what they are capable of," Orochimaru said. "Know this, apprentice: to have any chance at all against the Akatsuki, adequate will not be enough. You must excel. From the simplest D-ranked ninjustu to the most complex S-ranked, it is not enough to simply know how to perform it."
The snake Sannin rose fluidly. "Create two kage bunshin," he ordered. Two puffs of smoke revealed twin, violet eyed Narutos standing at attention. "You can perform the doton: doryuuheki, correct?"
Taking its cue, the first clone hopped back to the edge of the clearing, sped through seals – tiger, hare, boar, dog – and slammed its palms to the forest floor. A six foot high wall sprung from the earth, hiding the doppelganger from view. Naruto contained a smirk at the wall's depth – over three feet. He'd improved in its usage since Jiraiya had thrown the technique his way.
Turning to the original, Orochimaru said, "Observe." He flew through seven seals faster than Naruto could track, reared back, and spat a roaring gout of flame in the shape of a dragon's head at the wall. Naruto's eyes widened at the sheer heat emanating from the technique as it flew through the clearing and plowed into the earthen wall with a crash.
The left-most part of the wall disintegrated after a split second of impact, followed shortly by the right before the whole wall was utterly obliterated. His clone had a nary a second to hurl itself away from the dragon, and dispelled as its right leg was caught in the immolating flames.
Naruto winced from his position leaned against the tree trunk as Orochimaru cut the jutsu. A warning would be nice, he thought uncharitably.
"The Karyuu Endan," the Sannin mused. "One of Konoha's signature techniques. Performing it is something of a rite of passage for any jonin with a katon affinity."
The blond felt himself nod, adding it to the list of techniques he'd need to learn once he'd powered through his katon training. He'd finished doton not long after he'd arrived at Orochimaru's base, but had been focused more on not getting killed by Kimimaro than any ninjutsu in the intervening months.
"Again," Orochimaru ordered the second clone. It sped through the same seals without a word and, through his connection, Naruto felt the overloaded chakra it poured into the doryuuheki. The second earthen wall burst from the ground an instant later, two feet taller and another foot thicker.
Orochimaru said nothing, flipping through his seals once more and rearing back. A dragon's head exploded forth from his mouth once more, but instead of a solid bullet of orange flame, this dragon had scales. Flickering blues blurred with pure white and red so bright that Naruto had to squint against the sudden, furious light. He barely had the chance to process the sheer detail in the jutsu's creation before it had split into three heads, each as detailed as the original, and diverged around the sides and over the top of the suddenly useless earth wall. The resulting explosion blew the wall to smithereens as all three heads converged on his helpless clone faster than Naruto could blink.
The technique cut a moment later, leaving the clearing dry, sweltering, and sooty. Orochimaru looked unbothered as he met Naruto's incredulous gaze as it turned from the casual devastation.
"And so you see: the difference between competence and mastery." The snake Sannin blinked. "Or perhaps you feel it."
Naruto said nothing. His clone's memories were nothing more than a split second of panic before its existence had been snuffed out. There was no struggle, no hope of escape. He shivered.
"Most shinobi toil away, attempting to learn as many ninjutsu as they possibly can, without regard for how to properly use any of them," Orochimaru was saying. His lip curled. "The Uchiha were especially known for this. At the height of their power, one of the world's greatest kekkei genkai was reduced to little more than base mimicry. Wasteful," he all but spat.
The older man shook himself a moment later, yellow eyes boring into Naruto once more. "The strongest shinobi understand mastery. Salamander Hanzo gave my teammates and me the name 'Sannin'. His control over water was so great he could freeze the very air in your lungs as you breathed." A languid smile split Orochimaru's lips. "At the height of his powers, he hunted S-ranked shinobi that entered Ame's borders for sport. That is what you must aspire to, apprentice."
Naruto inhaled, doing his best not to choke on the still visible ash left over from his master's technique. The familiar sense of creeping dread at the type of shinobi he had to become simply to survive tickled the back of his mind, but he pushed past it. He had long ago resolved that he would make the most of this situation, and, finally, Orochimaru was seeing fit to teach him. It was no time for fear.
"I understand," he declared, nodding once, with feeling.
Orochimaru chuckled low in his throat. "You will."
/~/