Misfits
Prologue
It all started with the Hiraishin.
Invented by Tobirama Senju during the Second Shinobi War, the fuinjutsu technique was used to transport armaments, food, and people, to the war fronts. Only limited by its massive chakra requirements, the technique was a game-changer that left Konoha with the least fatalities after the war. Its main flaw lay in the chakra requirements of the technique, which increased exponentially with distance and mass.
And now Sarutobi wanted him to make it better.
To somehow turn this chakra intensive behemoth into a stable transportation system.
It would no doubt be helpful to Konoha, improving its ability to deploy personnel.
But it was boring.
Very boring by Orochimaru's standards.
Orochimaru was currently working on the analysis of Hashirama Senju's cells to understand the mechanism behind Wood Release—- something that was taking up all of his time and attention. He had no time for trivialities and he told his teacher as much.
And so Hiruzen had given it to Jiraiya, not that it would accomplish anything. Make no mistake, Jiraiya was good. Better than most people he knew, but he was no Orochimaru.
All things considered, Orochimaru had even been happy. Well, relieved might have been the better word. The man-child would have hounded him relentlessly about peeking and bathhouses and all sorts of other perverted nonsense if allowed too much free time. At least with this, he'd be able to use his mind for something productive.
Though the many misfortunate incidents he had been forced through by the toad-sannin told him otherwise. No doubt, he'd find some way to pervert the technique.
He was good at that.
Regardless it was officially not his problem anymore. Out of sight and out of mind.
That, in hindsight, had been his greatest mistake.
After tinkering with the formula for months and finding nothing but failure— as Orochimaru expected— the man proceeded to give it to his student.
He almost laughed when he heard that. No matter how much Jiraiya boasted about his fuinjutsu apprentice and his innovative way of thinking, Orochimaru had never expected him to get anywhere with the technique.
Hell, he was already trying to think of the next excuse he could use to avoid such boring seal modification work, when it inevitably landed back in his hands after Jiraiya's repeated failures.
And then, eight months later, Minato converted Tobirama's transportation seal into an offensive technique, built for one purpose and one purpose alone.
To slaughter armies.
He had been skeptical about it first, but after the battle at Kannabi Bridge, there had been no more room for doubt. Minato Namikaze ambushed a massive Iwa force, comprising over a thousand Iwa shinobi.
Alone.
Only one person walked away uninjured and it hadn't been an Iwa ninja.
"This is most unexpected, Lord Third. I dare say I wasn't expecting this invitation."
Orochimaru held his teacher's gaze for a full three seconds, before sneering and looking away. The Hokage's office might not be the grandest edifice in Konoha, but it was certainly the most famous. Interestingly, it was the only other building, aside from the Konoha Academy, that was built on the slopes of the Hokage Monument. Ever since he had been a kid, Orochimaru had always been strangely fixated at that particular topographic feature. Not because it had the faces of the former Kages of Konoha sculpted upon its chest for all the world to witness, but for something far more mundane.
If that mountain ever shattered, Konoha's past would bury its present and future.
Orochimaru didn't know why, but every time he gazed upon the monument the instinctive desire to crush the mountain seemed to raise its hood. The mental description might seem a little too strange for a neutral observer, but for the Snake Sannin, it was an apt fit.
"Actually, it was I who requested your presence."
Orochimaru suppressed a hiss, as he turned to gaze at his opponent.
"Namikaze." He muttered.
"Minato, please," Namikaze nodded with a polite smile. Someone had been imparting the art of diplomacy to this… upstart, it seemed.
"Namikaze," Orochimaru repeated. He wasn't in the mood to stand on ceremony at the moment, especially not for the one chosen over him by his own teacher.
Minato sighed. "Before my position as the Fourth is officially announced, I suggested bringing about some changes in the Council. I asked for your presence for that purpose."
"Not yet Hokage and you are already taking over the Council," Orochimaru smirked. "You've been a busy little man, haven't you?"
"You have been requested to aid in this discussion, not make snarky comments, Orochimaru," Hiruzen replied in an acerbic tone, silencing the snake-summoner. "You were one of four possible candidates for the position, and Minato was chosen. All four are present here, but you don't see them complaining."
Orochimaru's gaze flitted towards Danzo Shimura, who looked distinctly uncomfortable with the setting, if the scowl on his face was any indication.
He smirked and met Hiruzen's eye a second time.
"Alright, most of them aren't complaining," Hiruzen muttered before forcibly changing the subject."Now can we get to the point?"
"As I was saying," Namikaze began, completely ignoring the tension in the room, "there have been some changes in the Council in light of recent events. While elders Utatane and Mitokado have been advising the Hokage over administration issues, I've decided to invite in some more members of our society to promote smoother functioning."
"Minato has my complete support," Hiruzen spoke up exuberantly, "Because of his… battle against Iwa, Konoha has entered a period of peace. It is to our benefit to preserve it for as long as possible."
"I think you're confusing peace with quiet," Danzo spoke up.
"That remains to be seen," Hiruzen retorted, "Iwa has all but surrendered, and the rest of the villages have already withdrawn most of their personnel from our land."
Anyhow," Namikaze interrupted. "While we are currently at peace we must not—"
Orochimaru yawned, tuning out from Namikaze's passionate speech before looking at the rest of the room.
Probably members of the new council.
He could see Shikaku Nara, the newly minted Jōnin commander. There was also Inoichi Yamanaka, current Head of T&I and finally Fugaku Uchiha, leader of the Uchiha clan and current Head of the Konoha Police division. In addition to these were the original trusted advisors of the Hokage— members of the original Council—- Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado.
"—this expanded Council is going to advise me over Konoha's administration" Namikaze's grating voice droning on before calling his attention. "Orochimaru, I'd like it if you were to be a part of this Council as well."
"Me?" Orochimaru asked, surprising himself. Out of all the things he had seen coming, this was certainly not one of them. But then again, this was Minato Namikaze. That damn brat had the ability to get under his skin faster than anyone possible, and he was teammates with Jiraiya.
"Tsunade was my first choice," Namikaze admitted, "her presence would have been an effective boost to our medical units. But the Lord Third here assures me that she's not… interested, and as such…" he drawled, while glancing at Hiruzen a second time, "we think that your skills at… research would be very contributing to this Council."
That did it.
Not only was his position taken away but now he had to be this whelps… adviser?
This was adding insult to injury and Orochimaru could barely hold the anger in. His knuckles turned paler from the clenching of his fists— an exercise to keep himself from exuding animosity. He instinctively knew that if he allowed it, this rage would come out in the worst possible way. It would consume everything, including the delicate little balance that Namikaze and Hiruzen were trying to maintain.
"Orochimaru," Namikaze spoke again, "I'd request your presence in the advisory council."
"...Of course." Orochimaru replied, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.
"You've taken to your new position like a fish to water."
Orochimaru sighed, looking up from his desk. Trust Danzo Shimura to poke his hawk-like nose into matters he had no business interfering with. Then again, this was the Darkness of Konoha, a rather self-important title.
Danzo was a war-veteran mentally stuck in the First Shinobi War who wielded significant authority inside Konoha, a fact that did little to diminish the most important thing about the man.
Danzo Shimura was boring.
Tobirama Senju had chosen Sarutobi over Danzo to succeed him— his last act as the Second Hokage, barely minutes before his death at the hands of Kiri ninja. What was shocking was that Danzo had not fought the decision, not made his stand. Instead, he had denied it. Since Hiruzen would rule Konoha as the supreme commander of the ANBU forces, Danzo created an entire ANBU division just for him—- a mindless group of socially-stunted individuals that were bootlickers at best and incompetent at worst. According to Danzo, his ANBU forces— which he renamed ROOT — didn't need to think. They just needed to follow Danzo's order to the fullest and that would be more than enough.
Personally, Orochimaru thought that Danzo did it because he feared that anyone with two brain-cells in working order would ditch him and join the real ANBU instead. That, or the old hawk feared his needlessly byzantine plans would be torn apart by any competent genin.
And now Konoha's war-hawk had settled his gaze upon him. Oh, why did the gods hate him so much? As if he didn't have enough to deal with.
"What do you want, Danzo?"
"It is a sad day when someone that should have been Hokage chooses to settle for a desk job."
"I'd say pot-kettle, but then I'd have to consider Root a real organization," Orochimaru retorted acerbically. He had no patience for Danzo or his limitless paranoia. "It doesn't exist, after all. Isn't that right?"
He half expected the man to attack, knowing how twitchy Danzo could get when questioned about his organization's significance. Personally, it'd be a breath of fresh air. Say what you will about his nuances, even the vicious Snake Sannin enjoyed physical combat every now and then. He was a shinobi after all.
One did get a little bored from long hours of work, even if it was something as interesting as cracking the code behind Hashirama Senju's abilities to create life.
Instead, Danzo smiled. And wasn't that just annoying?
"You raise good points, Orochimaru of the Sannin," The man went on, his formality almost sounding sarcastic. "However, I came here to discuss a proposition."
"I've yet to hear any."
"An offer to join Root."
"Denied." Orochimaru returned to his desk, his eyes moving back to the diagrams he had been working on before this impromptu conversation. Picking up his pencil, he began to continue his work.
"Just like Minato denied your request to start human trials?"
The pencil in his fingers stilled.
For the last five years, Orochimaru had been vested in personal research on Hashirama Senju's DNA— both in its ability to grant Life and its ability to prolong lifespan. As a diligent student and researcher, the possibilities of this DNA were endless, particularly if it could be harvested successfully. With this, Orochimaru could see his personal goal of achieving an immensely long lifespan, and the possibility of immortality close within his reach. Once that was achieved, learning all the jutsus of the world would be an afterthought at best.
It was why he had been using his captures as his personal lab rats for the research over the years, but with him slowly spending less and less time on the field, the number of test subjects had become annoyingly small.
It was why he had dropped his ego and requested the Fourth to grant him prisoners from the T&I to continue his pursuits. He had made it a point to explain all that his research had to offer.
Namikaze had denied him. Because, of course he had.
That brat had the gall to use his own statistics against him. Sure the number of survivors post the initial DNA injections were less than 2 percent, but it was still two percent. Two out of a hundred. Twenty out of a thousand. For fuck's sake, they were shinobi. Had that brat forgotten that his current throne had been a byproduct of butchering a thousand Iwa ninja at Kannabi bridge?
The pencil began to move again, scribbling on the pages furiously.
"I can grant you all the test subjects you want." Danzo mentioned casually, "After all, it is the sacrifice made by roots that allow a tree to grow and remain strong?"
Orochimaru had never been an avid believer of fate.
In the two years since becoming Hokage, Minato Namikaze had accomplished many things. Nothing grated Orochimaru more than the fact that he had somehow achieved the status of perfect sage. Not even Jiraiya, beloved of the toads—- had been able to achieve it. Anyone else that knew Jiraiya would claim that the toad-sage was too dignified to be jealous of his student, but Orochimaru knew better.
After all, Jiraiya had literally cried himself to sleep over losing to his perfect student like that.
After finishing several caskets of high-quality sake.
From Orochimaru's personal collection.
Despite his personal grudges against Namikaze, Orochimaru had no qualms about admitting that the boy had potential. But to become the first perfect sage since Hashirama himself? It was almost like the kid was trying to one-up him.
That would not do.
He had never really been one to get all close and personal as far as fights were concerned, preferring to assassinate while hiding in shadows. Rushing towards the enemy was more of Jiraiya's thing and to his credit, the fool played his part well. Jiraiya was the warrior, Tsunade the healer and he himself, the assassin.
And it worked perfectly for several years.
But now… upon hearing about Minato's success with Senjutsu, a part of him that raised its hood in defiance and competitiveness wanted to prove the boy wrong. Show him that it was no big deal.
That Orochimaru of the Sannin could do it. And do it better.
That is how he found himself standing at the entrance of Ryuchi Cave.
It had been enlightening and humiliating at the same time.
Back when Manda had offered him the chance to learn senjutsu, he had openly expressed his contempt for it. And now, after thirty years as a snake-summoner, he had found himself awaiting the trials at the entrance of Ryuchi Cave. If someone was trying to teach him humility, Orochimaru would reluctantly agree that said person was probably doing a very good job at it.
Unfortunately, the lessons in humility hadn't stopped at that.
It had taken him seven months before Orochimaru had finally given up. Fifteen months of rigorous study of senjutsu followed by equally diligent practice and despite doing everything the White Snake Sage asked of him, Orochimaru hadn't been able to become a Sage. It had been frustrating.
As had the White Snake Sage's answer to his question.
If the ancient creature had to be believed, Orochimaru's soul was fragile. Whatever that meant.
Soul manipulation wasn't his forte after all.
As said before—- it was frustrating.
All that information, and it was all useless.
Orochimaru was just one step away from giving in to his anger and go on a murder spree. Say what you will about him, but there was something strangely cathartic about killing idiots.
So when Jugo literally walked into one of the newer private labs he had constructed off the coast of Konoha, Orochimaru couldn't help but challenge his innate beliefs. For what could this be, if not divine providence?
In less than a month, he had gotten privy to almost everything that made Jugo's bloodline tick— It directly harnessed natural energy to modify the body, giving it supernatural strength. Of course, the strength came with the side effect of temporary insanity, but sanity was overrated anyway.
The only thing that remained was to learn how to harness that power for himself.
But he would go further.
The immense knowledge of Senjutsu he had picked up from the snakes had a lot to do with the Soul. From what he understood, the snakes had been able to achieve a form of immortality through a form of reincarnation known only to them. Orochimaru had the theory flat, but the practical application was beyond him.
The answer came to him in the form of the Iburi Clan—-a group of people that had the special ability to turn to smoke and back. People would have called that as physical body manipulation, but after several months of research, Orochimaru knew better.
It was manipulation at the soul level.
He had been unable to master Senjutsu—-no, he had absolutely failed at it. But so what? He'd reach that perfection—-that final stage when one became an immortal. He'd do it his way. He'd use all the knowledge he had gained, and arrive at the destination.
After all, the ends always justify the means.
He'd become immortal, or he'd die trying.
Around a year prior to the Kannabi event, Minato had married Kushina Uzumaki—-commonly believed to be the very last descendant of the famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) Uzumaki heritage. If Orochimaru had been a bit more… interested in the pleasures of the flesh, he'd have tried to marry the girl. The fact that the girl was smitten with Minato from Day One had only made her more… repulsive in his eyes.
Even he was allowed to be vain from time to time.
Regardless, it was the very same Uzumaki who was the current source of his problems.
Kushina Uzumaki was apparently the Kyuubi jinchuuriki.
A jinchuuriki's seal was apparently unstable during childbirth.
And of course, some crackpot had gotten to know about it, and of course he was able to bypass Konoha's extensive security, kidnap Kushina and set the Nine-tailed monstrosity loose.
It sounded like the beginnings of a bad joke. Orochimaru would have laughed if said bad joke wasn't currently demolishing half of Konoha.
He still did snicker a bit.
Regardless, Konoha was not dealing with this situation well.
The powerful and magnanimous Hokage was missing, leaving the shinobi population to deal with this… monstrosity.
Jiraiya was away gathering information on Kiri. Tsuanade was a no-show for several years now. That left just him— to pick up the slack left by the other two Sannin. Either that, or allow his reputation to be besmirched.
Now Orochimaru might have been a sociopath and a heartless killer, but he did have some attachment to the village. There was a reason he had wanted to become Hokage after all.
No point complaining about it when you have a job to do.
Shinobi were not capable of causing damage to a behemoth like the beast in front of him. You needed a monster of similar proportions for that.
Fortunately, he had just the thing.
He'd normally have not summoned him, but none of the other snakes would be able to put up strong resistance against the Kyuubi. Of course, Manda would demand a sacrifice of several hundred lives, but Orochimaru supposed that could be arranged.
In time.
With proper resources.
At some point in the not-so-distant future.
His hands moved in perfect unison, manifesting seals with his own blood, as he completed the summoning.
A moment later, his request was answered.
Loudly.
Things hadn't gone the way he had wanted, at all.
His summoning of Manda had been far less effective than expected. Fighting a feline was naturally difficult for a serpent, and this one was titanic and made of corrosive chakra. As such, the gladiatorial battle between two titanic creatures had annihilated two-thirds of Konoha. While he had been able to secure a lot of the clan members and other shinobi in the time Manda bought him, the event had rung a massive death toll for the civilian population.
Of course, this had come at a heavy price.
Over seventy thousand people had lost their lives. The Kyuubi's chakra was corrosive and while Manda could hold him off for a bit, the residual chakra alone was enough to kill civilians. Hell, a significant amount of shinobi perished as well— mostly genin and chunin. In one single stroke, the event had almost purged Konoha's future.
He had followed wartime directives, prioritizing shinobi who could fight back, but he was aware that their lives were paid for with the currency of civilian lives.
Of course, to some people, Orochimaru's summoning of Manda had been seen in a negative light. A lot of the blame for the mass destruction caused by the titanic snake was somehow his fault.
He hoped the Kyuubi killed those people next.
The remaining chunin and genin might as well be civilians for all the good they could do against such a monstrosity. He idly wondered what the Academy had been teaching them considering how vocal they were about hiding till the Hokage showed up.
Orochimaru called those people quitters.
For all their complaining about the number of deaths he had allowed, at least they were alive to complain. If he hadn't stalled the Kyuubi, they might not have had that privilege either.
But, of course, if it was the venerated Lord Hokage, he could probably save them all.
And there he was, appearing on top of the Hokage monument in a flash of yellow.
Speak of the devil.
He was wearing that horribly ostentatious white cloak with the words Fourth Hokage inscribed on them. God knew that the man couldn't get a bigger head.
Though for all his hatred of the man, he couldn't help but be impressed.
Using a derivation of his Flying Thunder God technique, Namikaze had been able to snatch one of those stupidly powerful balls of pure, corrosive chakra and threw the attack into the surrounding forest. The looks of awe and veneration on everyone's faces indicated that this would be the latest chapter of Minato's legend.— One in which he fought a bijuu single-handedly.
It only made Orochimaru hate him more.
And then, in a flash of yellow so bright that it blinded everyone, around them both Namikaze and the Kyuubi vanished. He had somehow managed to teleport both himself and the goddamn bijuu away with him.
The hero who saved his hidden village. And from the dirty looks he was receiving his own contributions would not be appreciated.
Orochimaru sighed.
Story of my life.
Hiruzen stared in shock at the dead body of his successor. He had been Konoha's brightest flame. So young and yet so powerful. Hard when required and yet, kind when mattered.
"You… you did not deserve this." A tear dripped down his face and he closed his eyes. "Your will of fire burnt strong. Stronger than any of us. You saved us all. We will not forget you."
He took a deep breath before opening his eyes again and turning to the surrounding shinobi. Everything was in shambles, more than two-thirds of their village lying in rubble.
Hundreds of shinobi lay dead. Many of them had families with no one to take care of them. Many didn't have anyone to mourn them.
And yet, all of them had bravely sacrificed themselves to buy just a minute longer for their village.
They deserve to be cremated with honor.
He took a deep breath. In his long life, he had never experienced anything quite so horrific, but he had to keep strong. His village needed him to.
Minato's legacy needed him to.
Reaching down, he slowly picked the child up from where he lay. Minato and Kushina had sacrificed their lives for the village, for this child. And even in their death, they had ensured that their child survived, and in return, aided the village.
It should have been me that died. Not you Minato.
He glanced at the baby again, at the seal on his stomach.
A seal that would be Minato's greatest gift to Konoha, ensuring that it would not be destroyed in its moment of weakness.
Naruto Namikaze. The Kyuubi jinchuuriki.
"Orochimaru," he barked.
"...Yes," the snake sannin replied.
"Take the child to the Hokage Tower. Make sure he is safe from all harm." He stealthily rubbed the seal on the child's belly, knowing that his student would recognize it for what it was.
As expected, Orochimaru's eyes widened immediately, before being replaced with a mask of cool indifference.
"Of course," his student replied softly, almost as if making some kind of decision. "I'll make sure Minato's child is safe from all harm."
…
…
...
It was quiet. Far too quiet.
A few minutes later, Hiruzen realized the Hokage Monument was so quiet because it was empty.
Something is wrong.
His intuition had never failed him thus far in his life, and now it was screaming at him that something terrible had happened. He started to climb the Hokage Tower faster before he saw it.
Both Chunin guarding the entrance of the Hokage's office, dead.
Freshly dead at that— the blood was still dripping from their slit throats.
He'd recognize the subtle perfection of those cuts anywhere.
Orochimaru.
The feeling of wrongness got even worse as he rushed into the room. If anything happened to baby Naruto, he'd never be able to face Minato in the afterlife.
All he was met with was emptiness.
Every bit of paper, every scroll, anything that had value really, had been methodically removed from the room. The fuinjutsu-locked safe was left open.
Konoha's forbidden Scroll of Seals was conspicuous by its absence.
There was no sign of Orochimaru anywhere. Or the baby.
"Orochimaru," Hiruzen whispered, collapsing on the floor, the shock almost too much for him to bear. "What have you done?"
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