He is barely four weeks old and already he is holding a kunai, shaking it like a rattle. His father gave it to him as a joke, as a means to provoke his mother into an exasperated smile. But he holds it correctly, upright and by the grip and his parents are proud, his father in particular predicting a naturally born shinobi genius in him. Up until he tries to eat the kunai, that is.
He is one years old and outsiders find him unnerving. He doesn't cry, for any reason, especially when he should be. He watches everything with those large, serpentine eyes of his in a manner not unlike the creature he is named after. What they don't know is that he is merely paying attention. He has learned to watch, and in watching he learns, about these things that move and make noise. He likes to learn, so he likes to watch.
He is three years old and has learned to observe with more discretion. He doesn't rely on sight so much anymore, finding it sometimes easier to listen while pretending his attention is elsewhere. And as he listens, he repeats what he hears to himself. When no one is around, he concentrates, pulling from within himself as he has heard, and soon he molds chakra for the first time.
He is four and is unsure. He doesn't like playing with other children. They make noise, but don't make sense. They move around, but without control. They look at him, but don't see him. Perhaps the anomaly is him, he thinks, and tries smiling instead of watching. In return, the other children call him creepy. He doesn't know how to feel about this, and tells his parents. He feels much better when his father laughs and his mother hugs him.
He is five and is bored. The Academy is filled with children of larger sizes and louder noises but equally as insipid. The instructors drone on about information he has long since retained or otherwise decided useless. His skill with kunai and shuriken outclasses everyone and his classmates have learned quickly he knows best how to dislocate joints in a taijutsu spar. All except an idiot named Jiraiya that is, and he has tossed the boy around enough times now to know how to make the buffoon trip on his own. As he rolls his eyes at the loud declarations of a sore loser of his impending ass-whooping, though, he finds the Academy slightly more tolerable.
He is six and a newly minted genin. He is glad to finally be rid of the Academy and the mass of mindless incompetents and considers that alone to be a decent graduation present. That is until he discovers his new teammates are Jiraiya and Tsunade, both of whom make enough noise to drown out thunderstorms, and realizes that metaphorically, the Academy screwed him bad in the long term. He changes his mind when their sensei is revealed to be the Sarutobi Hiruzen, the God of Shinobi, a veritable legend in the world of ninja and undoubtedly the best graduation present possible, perhaps even better than the new set of summoning scrolls from his parents.
Three weeks later, his parents die, and he finds that the scrolls hold new meaning. They died for the safety Konoha, he is told, and suddenly he is the new snake summoner. He doesn't ask for details, and prefers to imagine both of them smiling proudly at him from the afterlife. He decides that one day he will do the same, for the sake of Konoha. As he lays the flowers by their graves, he finds the shed skin of a white snake. Sarutobi-sensei tells him that it's a rare find and informs him of the implications of such a find. Samsara, he summarizes in his mind. As he holds the white snake skin in his palms, he smiles and thinks he'll try living long enough to one day show the snake skin to them, whoever they may become.
He is seven and makes his first kill. It is their twenty-first C-ranked mission that has them act as caravan guards all the way to the Land of Tea. They don't run into bandits, despite how much Jiraiya is eager to display his 'manliness' to impress Tsunade. Instead, they find a single rampaging wild boar sow the size of a cabin. Hunters have been trying to capture its piglets and failed miserably. But in their escape, the foolish hunters run through a small farming village and the furious creature is now plowing through fields and houses. So he strikes—before the creature could trample a mother and her child—a clean hit straight through the skull, and the beast crashes to the ground. The members of the small village thank him profusely and the mother calls him a gift sent by Amaterasu. Sarutobi-sensei praises him for his efficient skill and Jiraiya and Tsunade are eager for boar soup. By unholy coincidence, he later finds the piglets, cowering within bushes, clearly eager to rush the body of their fallen mother but keeps on squealing in fear. He pulls out a kunai and thinks of ending their suffering right there, for there is only a slim chance for them to survive on their own. He doesn't. He does not know why only that he can't stop shaking. Unbeknownst to his team, he spends the next three days staring at his hands.
He is eight and fails in becoming chuunin. This comes as a surprise, really. He is the acclaimed student of the Sandaime, with skills and intellect far above his peers. What he fails isn't the test, though, but is said to lack the composed lucidity a chuunin is supposed to possess. What he does is almost kill an Iwa genin in a match. For the Iwa opponent had managed in a stroke of unfortunate luck to crush his tool pack, which contained the white snake skin he carries around at all times. The fault lies in his foolish decision of not stowing it away for safekeeping, he intellectually understands, but is still unable to hold himself back from dismembering the bastard the same way the snake skin was crushed beyond repair. As he stares at the bloody mess he has wrought and finally notices that Sarutobi-sensei, Jiraiya, and Tsunade had pulled him away from mutilating the bastard even more, he grits his teeth and curses.
The incident fortunately remains that, an incident. Later, Jiraiya and Tsunade fail to become chuunin as well, largely in part because they put in a lot of effort in failing. He calls them idiots, and allows them to drag him off for dango.
He is nine and becomes chuunin. Mostly because people apparently still remember a former Iwa genin who no longer has legs. Jiraiya and Tsunade make chuunin as well. He calls them idiots, and all three of them make Sarutobi-sensei pay for lunch.
He is ten and gets drunk for the first time. He doesn't know how, but Jiraiya manages to convince Sarutobi-sensei to celebrate their first successful A ranked mission by using the mission payment to purchase expensive, quality sake. Before he knows it, he finds himself sprawled across a tree, naked as the day he was born, while Jiraiya and Tsunade are still playing jankenpon. He makes good on his vow to never drink again.
He is twelve and has exhausted the entire collection of the shinobi library. When he is not on missions he spends all his time researching and reading and just learning. In particular, he learns of a sword named Kusanagi. He decides to one day find such a blade, or forge his own.
He is thirteen and is made jounin. Sarutobi-sensei is proud and Jiraiya and Tsunade give their begrudging congratulations, and he knows they are wondering if he will leave them behind. He calls them idiots and drags them off for tempura.
He is fourteen and his hands always smell like blood. He has done more B and A ranked than he cares to count. On these missions, he almost always inevitably encounters outside variables and is forced to kill. It's become quite the easy task now, he realizes, but decides not to dwell on it. The smell lingering on his hands, however, is beginning to be annoying. So he looks into cleaning supplies and the chemistry involved. Somehow, he ends up studying about poisons.
He is fifteen and is laughing. Jiraiya peeped on Tsunade, who really went through a growth spurt, more in some areas than others, and is now in critical condition. Sarutobi-sensei tells him that Jiraiya almost died, to which he argues is the funniest part.
He is sixteen and manages to summon Manda. The giant snake is snobbish and arrogant, and tries to eat him not even a minute into their initial meeting. He fends off the gargantuan reptile and seems to earn its amused respect. He wonders if he should be concerned when he eventually agrees to bring the boss summon a dozen human sacrifices in return for its future services. He fulfills the bargain in the form of a group of hapless bandits, and feels not the tiniest amount of guilt.
He is seventeen and meets Danzo for the first time. The man is very different from Sarutobi-sensei. He is more shifting shadows than vibrant fire characteristic of the namesake of the village and its people. The man tells him, indirectly with many metaphors and subtle words, that Sarutobi-sensei and his ideals are naïve and destructively optimistic. He is surprised to find himself in agreement, but still refuses to join ROOT. He owes Sarutobi-sensei that much.
He is eighteen and learns of the Endo Tensei. He has been in ANBU for months now, and decides he enjoys it. The work often involves assassinations, and is thus prime opportunity for him to field test his inventions, jutsu, and poisons, all of which he sets off to improve as much as possible. So he reads and learns with his access to all scrolls, books, tomes, parchments, tablets that the village has to offer, and Sarutobi-sensei seems only pleased to help. That is, until he stumbles upon the kinjutsu of the Nidaime and is warned to look no further into the forbidden technique. He agrees. He is lying, of course.
He is nineteen and learns of Ryuchidou. Jiraiya tells him of Myoubokuzan and the toad sages and he can't help but wonder about the possibilities. So he summons Manda to ask and eventually learns the name Ryuchidou. He bargains for the location of the mystical cave with promises of hundreds of sacrifices if need be, only to receive a typhoon of flagrant laughter in return. Manda tells him he is unworthy, and naturally he is angry. But no matter how he coaxes or threatens, the giant snake denies him and so he leaves the village in search for an answer. It will take him over twenty years to finally get one.
He is twenty and is intrigued. He has not found Ryuchidou, and instead finds himself in the middle of Rice Field Country. It is small and inconspicuous. And as he continues to survey, he finds the landscape and climate very suitable for bases of operation by shinobi standards. It is also on the border with Fire Country and in that lies its strategic values. He makes a note of it for future references.
He is twenty-two and decides humans are fragile. War has spread as wildfire, and its most recent victim that he cares to know of is Nawaki. He looks at the boy's body and at the many, many wounds before he retrieves the necklace that is just yesterday's birthday present. He looks at the boy again and thinks how uninteresting it is when things don't move or make noise. He returns to the village and watches Tsunade's expression of catatonic dread. So he returns to her the necklace and tells her how unrecognizable the state of the corpse is, hoping for her to lash out in fiery anger of motion and loudness, and not the quiet, unbecoming mourning. He fails when Tsunade runs off to grieve elsewhere, and decides humans are fragile indeed.
He is still twenty-two and realizes he is very human. The day he is named Sannin alongside Jiraiya and Tsunade is the day he faces mortality. Hanzo the Salamander is a monster of humanoid form, and a title bearing the man's approved respect should be worn like a medal, a sentiment everyone in the village is eager to express. But he knows better. The title is a mockery. It is not a spoil of war, rather a leftover for stragglers. Even with Jiraiya and Tsunade, he lost, and is alive only because of a calculated whim. And it is so very bitter. He is human indeed, and it simply is not remotely enough. He needs to be able to do more than survive, at all costs. He needs to be able to last. When he reaches into his pack, the white snake skin has long since been gone, so he does not remember what he's searching for, and pulls out his research notes instead.
He is twenty-three and joins ROOT. He approaches Danzo this time, and asks, mockingly, if they are hiring. They discuss benefits, and Danzo says the safety of Konoha should be reward enough. He laughs. A week later, he steps into his first private laboratory.
He is twenty-five and crosses the line. He has developed countless new serums and technology decades ahead of the times. He is now able to extract and transplant biomatter on the cellular level. But experimentation on animals can only take one so far. He needs concrete data on intended subjects and not hypothesis. So now a suna-nin struggles under restraints on the operating table. He is no longer seven years old, and so does not hesitate in the least.
He is twenty-seven and takes notice of an orphan named Kabuto. The child has potential and talent, and a gleam in his eyes that intrigues him. The boy has a steadfast love for his 'family' that almost reminds him of a couple of phantoms at the back of his mind. The plans Danzo have for the boy and his 'mother' is typical in ROOT operations, a quality he decides should be a take away from his experiences immersed in the darker side of Konoha. Really, Danzo is a fool who obviously has not used a mirror in decades. But this Kabuto will be different. He needs a research assistant, after all.
He is twenty-eight and begins collecting specimen from his own village. Orphans in particular are the best, he decides. No one cares and so no one looks much less investigates. He has long since abandoned the dingy laboratories Danzo provided, and started establishing neighboring lands with auxiliary research bases, cycling through them as opportunity dictates. Samsara, he muses, as he watches the thick biomass filters through. The older the specimen, the harsher the backlash usually is from the reaction. So he watches the row of preteen children and takes notes.
He is twenty-nine and is less human. He can shed skin, nay, the entire epidermal layer and come out renewed. He is closer to his goal now, and only stronger for it. As always, he has chosen well. After all, snakes aim to consume that which is larger than themselves.
He is thirty and thinks about becoming Hokage. Sarutobi-sensei is old now, slower, all around weaker. Humans are fragile indeed. He has the sudden idea of becoming his successor. It will be either him or Jiraiya, as Tsunade is human and has succumbed to the weakness of the mind. She is still powerful, he concedes, but every time he looks at her he can't help but sigh. He envisions Konohagakure, ruled under its immortal Hokage, powerful and supreme, and it's beautiful indeed.
So he watches Jiraiya and the group of brats he decided to mentor. One in particular, he labels in his notes as '?'. The boy exhibits great potential as well as an interesting relationship with the village's dirty little redheaded secret. The boy actually shows too much promise, displaying skills and intellect that are obviously not due to Jiraiya's tutelage but the boy's own naturally given talents. It's a misfortune of missed opportunity, really. If that lad had come under his guidance, he wouldn't be so human. Alas, he sees too much of Jiraiya in those blue eyes, damning and irreversible. He will need to seek an alternative.
He is thirty-one and is delighted. The Third Shinobi War begins. He wonders if it's partly due to his abduction of at least over three hundred test subjects, including newborns, from all of the villages of the Big Five. It matters not, though. He now has a chance to expand that number. Casualties of war and whatnots. How delightful indeed.
He is thirty-two and gains that assistant long overdue. The boy Kabuto has become a fine ninja and has lost his identity and place in the world. He gives the boy direction to truth. In return, he doesn't gain trust but loyalty and a pair eyes as well as a pair of skilled, extra hands. In the end, that's all he needs.
He is thirty-three and unravels the Endo Tensei. He searched high and low, and finally finds the kinjutsu hidden away in the Fire Temple of all places. It will take months to decipher the scroll, and maybe even years to work out all the unknowns, but he is dedicated and patient. He licks his lips and gets to work.
He is thirty-four and takes on a student. He needs to exhibit traits of a leader for his candidacy for Hokage. Strong, inspiring, and nurturing. So he carefully chooses, and picks a newly Academy graduate named Mitarashi Anko. The girl has an innocent sadistic streak within her, and he is pleased to nurture that if nothing else. She follows him around like a loyal pet, and somehow he ends up teaching her more than he planned. For the briefest moment, he feels proud. For what, he doesn't know, and never thinks of again.
He is thirty-five and a grand opportunity falls into his lap. A boy comes to him with a request, after killing a dozen of his subjects, that is. Brutally. He is honestly impressed, and so grants him an audience before he finds a way to squeeze the boy through a test tube. The boy is susceptible to a condition that augments his capabilities at the cost of control. Too interesting. He has not been this excited for a while. He upholds his promise to keep the boy from killing and in exchange examines and examines and finally extracts something so peculiar that he spends an entire month secluded within the lab. What he develops will change the lives of many.
He is thirty-six and is disappointed. He is denied the position of Hokage. Instead they choose Jiraiya's brat. He is honestly disappointed. Sarutobi. What a foolish old man he's become. How utterly disappointing. This village and its acting leadership. Only choosing now to act upon suspicions. He carefully calibrates the solutions that contain the cellular materials of the Shodai. He starts the mass injections into the newborns, watches, and takes notes. He smiles when the alarms go off, and waits for the intruders.
He is thirty-seven and is a nuke-nin. He wonders if Anko appreciates his parting gift. It's a gift that keeps on giving, really. The girl survived. This he almost knows for certain. It's unfortunate he can't be there to witness the brilliant change in his sole protégé. Oh, well. Akatsuki isn't a terrible organization, if only a bit poorly organized. What he appreciates the most is how it allows him free reign of all activities. The most notable drawback is Sasori, whose talk of immortality and beauty clashes with ideals of his own. Eternal life as a puppet. How absurdly asinine. Puppets don't move unless willed to, a terribly uninteresting concept that lacks creativity and adaptation. Still, he is in this for the long haul. Best not to aggravate the doll.
He is forty and locates Ryuchidou. Years of studying the Curse Seal and the chakra signals emitted, finally affords him the path and he finds the underground cave deep within the bowels of the north. He slithers in, elated as he comes face to face with the White Snake Sage and can already feel the power and knowledge he will achieve here. Maybe, just maybe, immortality is within reach as well. He fails. His body cannot sustain the nature chakra that seems to tear at the seams of his tissues and internal organs. The Snake Sage laughs at his failure and expels him from the sacred grounds. He considers collapsing the cave right on top of the vile creature's head, but knows the enmity he will earn from such an act will be a conflagration of burned bridges he simply cannot afford. It is so very bitter.
He is forty-two and on the cusp of immortality. He has done it. In studying Endo Tensei he is hit by inspiration. What he needs is not a body that lasts. Everything of form and shape one day will all eventually decay and rot. Be it man or beast. The body is merely a vessel. If a body is of no more use, get a new one. And there are fresh vessels everywhere and continuously supplied all the time. Soon, he thinks. Very soon.
He is forty-four and is immortal. He wants his first new body to be that of Uchiha Itachi, a generational genius of practically unrivaled quality and bearer of the last two viable pairs of Sharingan in existence. Almost as if planned, the Uchiha joins the same organization as himself, and he has planned long and extensive to gain the opportunity to take the first step in immortality. He fails. All too easily. It's not even a fight. It's defeat and humiliation. And as always, it is all too bitter. So he takes his severed hand and pride and leaves Akatsuki. His first new body is that of a random jounin, whose team is unlucky enough to be within the vicinity of his outrage and frustration. He does not know the former name of his newly acquired vessel and cares not. He has achieved immorality. Perhaps not in the way he planned, but he is finally what he dreamed of becoming: Immortal. He is immortal. He incinerates the remains of Orochimaru the mortal and laughs well into the night.
For him, the concept of age has disappeared to be replaced by a never ending three-year cycle. Samsara, he idly curses, as excruciating pain pulses through his entire nervous system and he discards his body for another. Still, better an endless cycle than one with the end firmly in sight.
He decides to muse as he believes an immortal should. To act on whims. And so on a whim, he decides he would very much like to see Konoha burn to the ground and watch as Sarutobi dies from a broken heart. Or multiple stab wounds. He is not picky. He's immortal.
Except he fails. And it is OH SO BITTER. How dare that old fool smile as he died. How dare he believe the village will remain standing, tall and strong. Smiling proudly like he imagined…imagined who?
It hardly matters. Not anymore. Pain wracks through his entire body and especially his hands, courtesy of that despicable dead fool. Soon, though. Soon, Uchiha Sasuke will be delivered to him. Soon.
But not soon enough. The three-year cycles are very adamant on keeping schedule, and he swallows another vessel whole. It is acceptable. The waiting game is merely stretched out. An immortal should learn to enjoy the lengths of infinite time laid before him. When everything else decays around him, he will remain. Samsara, he chuckles, and ingests the strongest narcotics he has at hand. Soon, it is dark.
.
.
.
"Okaa-san?"
The woman moves away from the sink and smiles at the child. "Yes, what is it, little one?"
The child looks up. "I tried smiling today. Like you always do."
"Oh?" the woman exclaims, seemingly pleasantly surprised. "That's so nice! Did you make any friends?"
The child shakes his head. "They said I'm creepy."
The woman seems saddened. She kneels down to the child, and strokes his cheek. "Oh, my little one, you are anything but. Those little urchins just can't see how wondrous of a boy you are."
"What's going on? Did you blow up another rice cooker?" A man asks, walking into the kitchen.
The woman fumes. "That was one time and it was partly the Aburame's fault for letting their bugs crawl all over the place. This is much more important! Those little demons dare call our darling son anything but adorable!"
The man shrugs. "Have you looked at our boy? He isn't exactly graced with the favor of Benzaiten-sama."
"Anata!" the woman nearly shrieks.
The man laughs and kneels down with them. "Sorry, sorry. But you're overreacting, my love. Children are always cruel, especially when coming to face such a strong specimen of lineage."
The man smiles, and settles a hand on the child's little shoulders. "What do you think, little one? You may not be smothered with affection by your peers, but yours eyes are of those strong in the bloodline of your lineage, like that of your grandfather and many before him. Do you think you like it?"
The child looks into the man's eyes, long and stern, and nods, resolutely.
The man smiles even wider, and ruffles the child's hair. "And remember, even if those the little scoundrels say otherwise, you will always be our son, and you are beautiful."
The woman hugs the child to her, and kisses the top of his head. "We love you so, Orochi-chan."
The child stares for a moment, then he leans further into his mother's embrace. He feels warm soon, and smiles ever so softly.
.
.
.
He wakes to knocking, and Kabuto informs him of the imminent arrival of his precious reserved vessel. Kabuto inquires his wellbeing, when he makes no visible acknowledgement. He dismisses his loyal assistant and stares at the wall and the perpetual shadows that almost seem to glow in the darkness. How utterly ridiculous and annoying, he decides, for him to witness the residual memories of the man he just sealed away deep within his own subconscious. He grins. No matter. Soon. Soon it will all forgotten, and he will be none the wiser.
He walks into the well-lit hallway, and once again onto the path of ever-lasting life.
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.
"This is…!" He chokes in disbelief, as the masses of tendrils ensnare and pierce him. "This is impossible! This is a separate dimension I created! This isn't possible!"
He stares into the pair of emotionless eyes, watching as the three tomoe spin and spin.
"Orochimaru…before these eyes, all of your jutsus are…"
Teeth and long tongues and masses and—
"Well, you should already know by now."
He stares as the jaws close on him, wide open, perpetual darkness within. "This…! This can't be happening!" he screams.
"I'm the immortal Orochimaru!"
The masses of flesh encroach.
"I can't die like this!"
They constrict and bind.
"I'm… the one to reveal this world!"
The light flickers.
"…the one to hold everything in his grasp…!"
It is gone.
"…why! Why did I…why am I…!"
Dark.