Orochimaru sat there in shock as the last of the other children disbursed into the Academy, leaving just her on the threadbare lawn. Apprehension filled her as the instructor who had been listing off names approached her with an unreadable expression, eyes murky and muddled. "Zarameyuki-kun?"

"Yes," she answered shortly, a slight quiver in her voice.

"Maa, don't worry, you're not in trouble or anything... but there is a bit of a problem, your scores... Normally we would ask your guardians but considering the circumstances, you've been automatically pushed ahead."

"Because I'm an orphan?" Orochimaru asked incredulously, only to bear a grimace. Because of course. Orphans started younger. Orphans didn't have choices concerning their future. Orphans were little better than canon fodder. The more talented they were, the worse it was because suddenly they were somewhat of an asset. Only, because of the war on the horizon, there would be no 'nurturing' her supposed 'talent'. What would have been fortune, an accomplishment, to anyone else in a different time of relative peace, was merely a quicker death sentence to her.

Because she was an orphan from a dead clan who's supposedly a genius. Cannon fodder.

Not on her fucking watch.

"What class am I in, Sensei?" Unknowningly saving the older man from an awkward situation by giving him something else to respond to, Orochimaru planned to do whatever it took to climb to the top and survive.

Because the only way anything was going to change was if she took the initiative and changed it herself. That man who gave the speech, told them, no, challenged them to surpass him? Fine, Orochimaru was going to do exactly that, and more.

She was going to make them all regret ever forcing her and others like her into this situation.

For the good of the Village, indeed.