A/N: Written because I've developed a special fondness for Orochimaru and would love to explore his character. All sorts of feedback welcomed; I'm not quite sure how well I did on this piece, so help would be appreciated.
Warnings: References to Jiraiya being perverted, later Orochimaru creepiness, OC, time changes.

Bad Moon Rising

...crescent...

"What's the point of reading all the time?"

Orochimaru gave Jiraiya a quick glare over his latest book (mythology, and quite interesting) before going back to his endeavor. Hopefully, the oaf would go away eventually – he always did, once he got bored. Unfortunately, Jiraiya always seemed to find ways to entertain himself.

Jiraiya returned the glare, despite the fact that he was being ignored. "Answer me!"

"To learn." Orochimaru gave him another spiteful glance. "Don't you have better things to do?"

"Of course I do! I just don't feel like doing them right now."

The other boy narrowed his eyes. "You're hiding from Tsunade again."

"No! I just…well, you're the one stuffing your nose in a book! At least I use the things I learn."

"Which is why you get in trouble all the time, right?"

"Shut up!" Jiraiya yelled, and several birds flew out of the tree that the two were beneath. Orochimaru raised an eyebrow.

"Sarutobi-sensei's not going to be too happy with you." Orochimaru went back to his book, irritated that he had lost valuable time catering to the needs of his fellow teammate. The silence that followed was welcoming, apart from Jiraiya muttering things like "Sensei's favorite" and "needs to get out more often".

Five pages later, Tsunade had found them, screaming obscenities at Jiraiya. "How dare you do that to me! I swear, I'm never going to let you see the light of day until you apologize…"

The future Ero Sennin looked terrified. He was frozen in place, staring at Tsunade, coming closer and closer before whispering, "Hey, help a guy out?"

Orochimaru sighed, and, suppressing a grin, bookmarked the current page and set it down. Helping a comrade was redeeming, depending on the time.

That's exactly how Jiraiya wound up on the ground with a snake coiled around his ankles. Tsunade trembled with fury, cracking her knuckles.

"You traitor -- !"

"I use the things I learn, too," Orochimaru drawled, sitting back to watch the horror of Tsunade's mercy.

...waxing...

He supposed that she could be called pretty. She wasn't the type of beautiful that males normally lusted after – she was much too pale to be wearing so much makeup, and the burning red of her lipstick made her look like she was more of a cannibal than a ninja – but she would do for somebody accustomed to mediocrity.

Not like that was what Orochimaru was interested in, anyway.

" – and I said, 'What the hell are you doing?' before socking him right in the face!" she bragged in a slurred tongue. She slammed her fist down on the table with a grin; the sound was barely heard in the bar, instead being drowned out by the laughter of others, warm and welcoming.

"You should keep your voice down," he warned with false concern. "Do you want to be caught drinking underage like this?"

His response was a fit of giggles. "Oh, there are too many people in here for them to even consider looking this way. I mean, come on," she continued loudly, pointing to a fistfight on the other side of the room, "It's not like we're like them or anything."

"Indeed," Orochimaru replied, pouring more sake into her cup. "Now, you were saying…?"

She took the cup and downed it in one gulp. Her expression changed instantly; instead of the stupidly happy face she wore seconds ago was a crestfallen look in her eyes. "I hit him right in the face," she whispered. She held up one of her hands and stared at it, "My God, he could have died. I've tried so hard to make my parents proud – I was top at the Academy for a year straight, you know – but I can't get anybody else to like me…"

At this point, Orochimaru was close to rolling his eyes; though alcohol always seemed to make people more vulnerable, it was such a cheap method. He'd thought that other would've found a way around it. Apparently, that wasn't the case.

"I liked him, you know," she choked, sniffling; she wiped the snot away from her nose before continuing. "I almost killed him. All because I couldn't control the skills I was born with."

Taking this as a cue, he smiled. "Is that all you need help with?"

She paused, tears brimming her eyes. "Wha…?"

"I can help you control anything you want," Orochimaru continued, every word quietly dramatic. "These skills, your power, your beauty…"

The girl's eyes went wide with amazement, cheeks flushed with color. He leaned closer until there was but a breadth of breathing room between them. He watched this girl search every inch of his face, realization dawning on her as her vision cleared just a bit; this was not merely a friendly stranger offering to buy her drinks to sooth her problems.

His voice was low, but to her, it was the loudest in the room: "A prodigy like you deserves to stay young forever."

There was a long silence; all she did was gape and nod soon after. He closed his eyes and smirked, placing some coins on the table to pay for the weapon, and he left her with unanswered questions and a quarter-filled bottle.

Tempted by vanity, she followed him minutes later into open darkness.

...full...

Fifty-seven. About fifty-seven captives had died that day because of his jutsu developments – an utter failure, in his opinion. Running his hands through his hair, he looked forlorn for a moment or so before throwing his head back and laughing: science brought both successes and disappointments, so it should've been no surprise that such a spectacular disaster had occurred. Kabuto had smiled reassuringly and suggested that they go somewhere scenic to take their mind off the recent letdown.

Orochimaru accepted, ever amused by his so-called henchman.

"You've had that body for about six months now, correct, Orochimaru-sama?" Kabuto leaned against a rock wall, taking in the sights of the Valley of the End; the sky was a clear, almost blinding azure, a stark contrast to their bland surroundings.

Orochimaru smirked. "You keep track of things much too well."

Kabuto shrugged, making no attempt to hide his smugness. "Well, of course. I wouldn't be a doctor if I couldn't."

The former sannin chuckled at this. "You're much too arrogant."

"I know that."

Stretching his arms over his head, Orochimaru stepped out of the shade and into the open. The sun was unrelenting, but he didn't seem to mind; he walked to the river and looked up and around at the figures carved in rock, their enmity forever noticed. He shook his head and sighed, still smiling. "Ah, this place brings back memories…"

"Did I make a mistake in bringing you here?" Kabuto had followed, arms crossed over his chest. He stared at him; Orochimaru thought his passive-aggressive way of expressing curiosity entertaining.

"When I fought Jiraiya," he started, answering a question not asked, "he asked me if I thought myself a god." He snickered, smirk growing more and more twisted. "We had nearly killed each other. He had the intention of dragging me down with his folly beliefs – we can all see how well that turned out."

There was a long pause. Kabuto's expression faltered; it took a few moments before he asked, "Do you?"

Orochimaru turned and stared at him. The echoes of that question surrounded him, finally settling into silence long after.

"Orochimaru-sama?"

He erupted into laughter, gesturing at the crumbling statues around them in mock praise. "Kabuto, you of all people should know this! Gods do not go through trial and error – instead, they are born perfect and fall apart over time. I am neither. Do you truly think that I'd want to be considered an idol, withering in decadence?"

"Of course not," Kabuto replied, weaving lies around the sneer of a madman.