Speed had never been Uchiha Gen's greatest strength, but it had never been a weakness either. After equipping the young Madara card, the explosive force in his movements had risen by another level, enough that even his own body flicker felt lighter, sharper, more dangerous.
During the pursuit earlier, he had seen it clearly. Minato Namikaze had only been using the most basic Body Flicker Technique, a D-rank movement art that simply condensed chakra into the legs to burst forward in an instant. Yet in Minato's hands, that ordinary technique had become something extraordinary.
Talent like that was impossible to miss. It spilled out of the blond boy so obviously it almost felt absurd. And with no clan behind him, no bloodline inheritance, no old family shielding him, the Third Hokage would have to be blind or mad not to pull him into the Hokage faction and raise him personally.
Gen had guessed as much before. The scene in front of him only confirmed it.
***
At the front of the returning group, Hiruzen Sarutobi kept his pace even as the night deepened around them. His expression was grim, but his voice, when he spoke to Orochimaru at his side, was calm enough that only someone listening carefully would hear the meaning beneath it.
"Orochimaru, what do you think of Minato?"
Orochimaru lifted his eyes slightly. Moonlight slid across his pale face. A faint, unreadable smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"What is it, Sarutobi-sensei? Are you planning to hand another child over to me?" he asked lightly. "Though I admit, I do find that boy rather interesting."
"Your team is already full. It would be improper to add another," the Third Hokage replied. "What I want to ask is something else. What about giving him to Jiraiya?"
Orochimaru's gaze shifted for a moment. He understood immediately.
Today, Jiraiya had temporarily taken charge of Orochimaru's team. If Hiruzen wanted to judge whether Jiraiya was suitable to train Minato, then the most direct way was obvious: ask the three children who had just experienced Jiraiya's teaching firsthand.
"You can ask my students yourself," Orochimaru said. "They spent the whole day under Jiraiya's care."
"If Jiraiya truly has the ability to teach, then this may not be a bad arrangement," Hiruzen murmured.
He fell quiet again, but only briefly.
"I have seen how much Enjun has improved this past month," he said. "But Uchiha Gen's progress has been even greater. Orochimaru, it seems you have learned how to raise disciples as well as I did."
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
"Sarutobi-sensei, his progress has exceeded even my expectations," he said. "The change may have something to do with his recent awakening of the Sharingan."
That was not a lie. Before Gen drew the young Madara card, Orochimaru had already considered him impressive. But after the Sharingan came into play, the boy's growth had sharpened in ways even Orochimaru found difficult to predict.
"Whatever the reason, his current strength is inseparable from your guidance," Hiruzen said. "And if Jiraiya does not guide Minato well enough, I hope you will also lend a hand."
The old Hokage's voice was mild, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. He was not merely talking about students. He was laying stones for the future.
Orochimaru understood that perfectly. Hiruzen still saw him as his most promising successor, the one most suited to inherit the Hokage's mantle. The children around them were not just young ninjas. They were future pillars, future branches meant to hold up the village when the old trunk finally weakened.
"Do you mean a year from now?" Orochimaru asked. "Or sooner?"
Hiruzen's expression darkened.
"Sooner," he said. "The fifth-year students at the Academy will likely have to graduate early this year."
The words sank into the air like stones into deep water.
The peace talks with Kumogakure were finished before they had truly begun. After tonight's attempted kidnapping, there was no longer any room for illusions. The war with the Hidden Cloud would reignite, and once it did, it would burn hot from the very start.
The Land of Rain was already a mire. The Land of Wind remained a grinding front. Konoha's manpower was stretched so thin it was beginning to sound brittle. Not only would Orochimaru and the jōnin already rotated off the front have to return, but newly graduated genin would be pushed toward the battlefield as reinforcements. If the war worsened further, even Academy students would be pulled early into service.
That was the official reason, at least. But Hiruzen's next words revealed the real pressure pressing at his back.
"Danzo has already noticed Minato," he said.
Orochimaru said nothing for a second, but his eyes sharpened.
Root needed weapons, not children. Clan heirs with names and connections were difficult to seize, difficult to break, difficult to hide. But a civilian genius with no family backing, no powerful surname, and overwhelming potential? To Danzo, that would look like a gift from heaven.
Minato Namikaze fit Root's needs almost too perfectly.
"He is not suited for Root," Hiruzen said. "If Danzo gets his hands on him, that child will be ruined. His spirit will be hollowed out long before it matures."
The Third Hokage's voice remained even, but the steel in it was plain. He had made his choice already.
"Before Minato graduates, I will shield him. After he does, it will be your generation's task to raise children like him, and children like Enjun and Gen. When I am old, they must be the branches that help you support the village."
***
For a brief moment, Orochimaru looked up at the moon hanging beyond the trees.
Hokage. Successor. Future. Those were never dreams that had grown from his own heart. They were expectations placed upon him by other people - by Hiruzen, by the village, by those who saw genius and assumed genius must naturally rise to lead.
And yet when he looked at that cold moon, another face appeared instead. Nawaki. Young, hot-blooded, absurdly earnest Nawaki, shouting about becoming Hokage as if he could already see the future laid open before him.
The image vanished as quickly as it came. Orochimaru's expression smoothed over. He turned his head and looked at the younger generation walking behind them - Uchiha Gen speaking lightly with Minato and Kushina, the three children close enough in age to feel like a single bright knot of possibility moving through the dark.
One person did not have to do everything alone. If there was too much work for one pair of hands, then another answer existed: raise people capable enough to be used. To carry. To solve. To endure.
Had Sarutobi-sensei not done the same?
***
By the time Uchiha Gen returned to the clan district, the night had grown deep and cool.
He followed his usual ritual with almost religious seriousness. Bath. Clean clothes. Incense. A moment of quiet prayer to every deity, immortal, sage, buddha, and wandering fortune-bringer he could think of. After that, he sat cross-legged on the bed, settled his breathing, and opened the system.
"Draw."
The familiar interface flickered to life before his eyes.
[System extraction in progress...]
[Obtained: Item Card - Explosive Tag x3 (White)]
[Item Description: Use to obtain three standard explosive tags.]
Gen stared for a beat, then clicked his tongue, amused more than disappointed.
Three explosive tags were not flashy. They were not the kind of pull that made the heart race. But they were expensive, practical, and dangerous in exactly the way useful things often were.
He stretched out his hand.
[Use this item card?]
"Yes."
Three standard explosive tags, white paper edged in red, appeared neatly in front of him.
Gen picked one up and held it between two fingers, studying it under the light. The craftsmanship was clean. Stable. Reliable. This was not some strange novelty item or discounted knockoff. These were proper standard tags, the kind every ninja recognized at a glance - and the kind that became terrifying if used at the right moment.
There were countless varieties of explosive tags in the ninja world. Some were stronger, some trickier, some modified for special effects. But the classic white-and-red pattern had survived for a reason. Cheap enough to matter. Strong enough to kill. Simple enough to trust.
For a white-quality item, this was already near the top end of what the system could reasonably spit out.
Gen tucked the tags away, feeling more satisfied the longer he thought about them. Raw strength was only one path to survival. Information, timing, traps, prepared tools - those mattered just as much. Sometimes more.
The next morning, Orochimaru still did not return to the team.
The negotiations had collapsed, but that did not mean his work had ended. If anything, it had only begun. As the jōnin squad leader and one of Konoha's sharpest blades, Orochimaru was immediately swallowed up by the village's wartime machinery, assisting the Third Hokage with reception fallout, intelligence handling, security arrangements, and the first wave of preparations for renewed conflict.
That left Team Orochimaru temporarily in Jiraiya's hands.
The atmosphere in Konoha had changed overnight. Even without asking anyone, it was impossible to miss. ANBU flickered across rooftops. Messengers ran between compounds and administrative buildings. Orders moved through the village like blood through veins, urgent and unceasing. Every street felt tighter than before, every conversation a little more hushed.
Orochimaru did not reappear before them again until the third morning.
And when he finally returned, he did not resume their training at once.