AN: Rewritten BLADESMITH. Reread mostly unnecessary.

Present

A Vow to Destroy You In 16 Years

4 Months Into the Second Shinobi World War

Orochimaru follows the footsteps of his teammates until he makes it to a small Ninja Temple.

The building suffered through years of the usual wear and tear, drunkards during holidays, and wild animals. He stops just outside the slit of the door opening, a cold weight in his stomach.

"Stop being so defiant, and take the soldier pill." Hinome pushes Takenaka's glowing hands away with her sole hand, the other being bandaged and further amputated. Despite Takenaka's best efforts, her hand could not be reattached.

Takenaka drops his hands into his lap and shakes his head. The movement makes him sway. "Let me do this for you…"

"You have it way worse than me. Save your chakra for you. I'm fine."

"But—"

"As if I would go as low as pretending I'm not on death's door for no good reason." She averts her head. "This will not stop me. Your burns just might."

Takenaka removed his shirt ages ago, allowing them all to witness his newly disfigured body. Blisters rise and fall across his chest akin to the skin of a toad. He forces himself to not look away. Hinome has it easy. Due to Byakugan overuse, or maybe even the lightning, her eyes are now bandaged.

"Burns are nothing—what Uchiha hasn't been burnt?"

"Heal yourself first."

"Rest for me? Please?"

"I won't leave you. We're teammates." Hinome feels for her pillow and blankets before resting. "Kyasha is going to be livid with you."

Takenaka started to heal himself but chuckles too much. "What about Danuja-sensei? Think she'd be impressed if she could see us?"

Hinome doesn't answer for a moment. "I can't recall Sensei…"

"Yeah. I've forgotten her, too."

The silence stretches.

Orochimaru's body heats up. He's so stupid. During the few times of year they'd speak with each other, Takenaka would gloss over the struggles Hinome and he had gone through. Though Hinome may block out the world, Takenaka has repeated confirmation that she will never hesitate to save his life.

He can't compete with that. Is Takenaka really supposed to rely on him while the number of shared missions can be counted on two hands? Can his first friend really be content with small talks, meals, presents, and discussions compared to a loyalty forged by time and blood?

No, they aren't friends at all. The only thing they had in common was being in the Academy. Now long gone, the two of them are just perpetuating an illusion. Or just him—he neither has a noble clan nor illusion-breaking eyes to speak of.

An inaudible sigh escapes him. The heat does not leave his body. Nudging the door open with a foot, he enters. "Our prisoner," he announces, "has used a technique to dispose of his body."

Takenaka's mouth drops open. Hinome huffs.

"I found it odd his ally would leave him with us. They're not too dissimilar to Earth shinobi."

Takenaka's expression changes several times in a few seconds. In the end, slumped, he says, "So, they all died. They were bad guys, but…you think the Anbu will cremate their bodies? Lay them to rest properly?"

"They must."

Some believe that without laying a body to rest, their spirit will roam and haunt the living. Others believe in keeping the knowledge hidden within corpses out of the wrong hands. In either scenario, the Swordsmen will have a proper burial undisputed.

"I…wanted to say something. About Chuushaki. Since he sort of…he wanted to destroy himself if it meant hurting me." Takenaka's voice trembles.

He doesn't know what to say. But if Hinome speaks, her words will be far colder. "Do not stress over him. You can never save people who do not want to change."

"But…it's not his fault. Not entirely. His life…" The sigh that leaves the Uchiha drains his motivation to continue.

"Beyond that, be proud we completed the mission," Hinome says. "Above and beyond, as well. We'll return home with our intel and recover."

"And Madara?" Takenaka looks between the two of them. "Is he really there? I think it's fake. Because, you know…" He trails off.

"Madara was exiled and proud. This is hardly surprising."

"I don't know. Madara, really? It could be someone else."

Unease crawls through Orochimaru's body. Hinome should know him best. Wounded, exhausted, and bandaged, he can't rely on her piercing gaze in order to puzzle out the truth. So he says, "If Madara was at fault for this, he would be very old. He has most likely been dead."

At once, Takenaka gapes at him.

Hinome wrinkles her nose. "He'd have servants to handle his misdeeds. Problem solved."

Orochimaru avoids the Uchiha's eyes. "A proud, untrusting man? The truth is simple. He reanimated himself using the dead reviving technique."

Takenaka leans forward to grab his pants leg. "Orochimaru! C'mon here. That's the Second's technique! He didn't teach it to anyone. Who would even revive him—if Madara died?"

"A person willing to control an essential person from the Leaf Village. If Madara has been reanimated, Hashirama is likely to follow. Tensions are increasing within the Uchiha Clan. Using his corpse will only divide us further."

The heir drops his hand. As his words set in, Takenaka's face pales.

"Who would be so greedy as to do that, Orochimaru?" Hinome listens, expression blank, open to information.

"We cannot answer that," Orochimaru replies. "After these conflicting stories…the truth is hidden under layers."

"That was because they want us confused. They want us to waste our forces scouring the world to prove their lies. Why else would they conveniently paint this narrative during war? Let's say Madara attacked the Mist. Why wait so long for vengeance on the Leaf?"

Takenaka stares at his lap, eyes unfocused.

"I wonder, Hinome."

"Right. Ah. Thank you for the helpful but terrifying save with the snake here." Migihime and Hidarihime had long since returned to their rightful place. Even so, Hinome gestures to her bandaged stub.

"That reminds me. Did Takenaka give you an antivenin?"

Hinome smacks her teammate's leg using little force. "He gave me medicine."

Takenaka moves sluggishly, as if just waking up. He keeps his eyes on the floor. "Wh-What? Hinome?"

An ache stabs Orochimaru's chest.

Hinome grumbles. "Takenaka, go get the antivenin, please. I did not survive that fight with that awful man just for you to kill me."

Quiet from the abundance of privacy seals. Dark from the absence of windows. The medics in the Leaf Hospital's confidential ward are followed and monitored by Anbu members to keep whoever walks these halls secret. Until the ward's patients are placed inside private rooms, the distinction between dead or near dead cannot be made.

Clan leaders, elite ninja, officials, and the Nine Tails holder will end up here. Sometimes, though, a regular ninja can make their way up into the ranks purely by how classified their mission became.

Swathes of discoloration grew on the once all-black tiles since his last visit. A greenish hue paints the biege walls where the light from the small fixture reaches, buzzing without end. Not even the noise of shuffling blankets—hardly a blanket if he can peek at the translucent room through it—can block it.

To bring an end to the silence, the door opens to reveal the Hokage, expression strained. His old teacher seems to have aged in less than a week. Hiruzen pulls up a plain chair to the side of his bed.

"How is Kohaku Village, Lord Hokage?"

"Not nearly as bad as we expected. Very few displaced villagers. They'll be moved into housing while the damages are fixed." Hiruzen folds his hands in his lap. His robes appear to fall off his frame more than normal. "The Village Chief is none too pleased, but Takenaka will make amends as soon as he has recovered."

Good. One thing that went…okay.

The silence stretches. Both know the magnitude of what is to come.

"I don't think I must tell you this mission is strictly confidential." Hiruzen's chuckle has the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "All three Swordsmen died, but only one body could be collected. The Anbu are currently dissecting any information we can find. I will send a report of anything important. Furthermore, you returned two swords. They will be kept sealed away in an undisclosed location. Sorry, I am not allowed to tell even you, Orochimaru."

He nods, folding the leg closest to Hiruzen to his chest, placing his cheek against his knee.

"Two suicides and one murder from teammate." Hiruzen mumbles the sentence to make it feel real. It doesn't work. The man breathes a tired sigh. "The next iterations of the Swordsman will have unknown weapons and unknown powers. Could that be why they all died like that? To force us to abandon what little knowledge we could gather?"

He winces. "Lord Hokage, Motochika told me something. I do not know if his words are true…"

"I read that. I have requested that Anbu go down and investigate the area. I will also update you with what we find. As for living swords made with souls…in all my years, I have never heard of any technique that messes with the lines of life and death to the extent of that."

All of a sudden, the blanket occupies Orochimaru's interest.

"Furthermore, no one in the Land of Fire would know of a Three Tails Rampage, if it occurred at all. As for Madara Uchiha…Orochimaru…I must tell you this information. I know you have made your decision, but I beg you to reconsider—"

"The Leaf lied about Madara being exiled."

Hiruzen makes a small sound of surprise. "Ah…well, if anyone were to figure that out, it would be you. Yes, we covered up his death. We have his corpse rotting below our very feet. Madara cannot be alive. It is not possible."

"It could be possible," he says, "with the impure reanimation technique, Edo Tensei."

A look of pain crosses Hiruzen's features, dropping his gaze to the floor. "You learning it is enough. It is forbidden, the knowledge of the technique sealed with its creator. You may continue to decipher it, but if even you are struggling with that, how could anyone else know?"

Forbidden techniques have a funny way of working in the Leaf. Some are absolutely off-limits. Any re-creation resulted in an angry swarm of Anbu. Some who still use forbidden techniques can teach and apply them in combat, but at their own risk. Should they use techniques in a devastating way for others, it will be shut down.

Hiruzen decriminalized the use of these techniques, partly for diversity, partly for freedom. Partly so that the younger generation can change these dangerous techniques made in the depths of war into something less lethal.

The Leaf Council never agreed. But sending out military force to control and regulate technique use under their system…brought up moral dilemmas that would have cost them the village's support. Hiruzen won that battle because they withdrew first.

"I truly think Madara is alive, Lord Hokage."

"It is not possible. His corpse is still here. I could even show you. We mustn't take the Mist at face value. Their kind knows all about deception and misdirection. There must be some reason why they're using Madara's name: they don't know he's dead."

"Lord Hokage, if I may. You are suggesting a reactive role. If we wait too long for them to act, how many lives would be lost compared to if we acted first?"

"It isn't that simple. Acting rash can put lives at stake for pursuing something that may not exist. We need to better assess the threat."

"Causing innocents to die."

"Not necess—"

"Sensei…"

Hiruzen pauses.

Orochimaru wills himself to look into his eyes. There are so many times the character he observed independently versus the character he experienced personally have become indistinguishable. Is it fair to admire someone for who they were in an alternate world, even if they have yet to be great currently?

Hiruzen's words mean something to him, coming from a mentor helping a child navigate a confusing, terrifying world with hope and wisdom. At the same time, his inaction led to so many unfortunate events within the original world. Hiruzen deserves to be criticized and ignored.

"Sensei," he says, unable to meet his eyes. "I…don't want to lose anyone else. If Madara is alive, we must kill him. Everyone with him—everyone."

Hiruzen lets out a long exhale through his nose and rubs his lips. Usually, a pipe would manifest in his lips shortly thereafter. Not even the Third Hokage can escape the no smoking rule.

"Are you sure the Anbu can handle this threat?" he says. "If it is Madara doing this, are we really prepared? If we are not, we will lose. I do not want to see any more graves."

"That isn't something you can decide, Orochimaru. The loss of a loved one is hard on all of us. Some have lost dozens more than you have, and keep themselves restrained. I know that isn't what you want to hear—you're worried. It is okay to be worried. But would you really go down to the Outlier Islands right now? Right this instance? Are you ready to 'face' Madara?"

Even if the man is correct, he cannot accept it. How many days until all the bonds he cares for today will be gone tomorrow? How many days of standing in front of their graves and pretending they're there? The dead never return. All of their worldly possessions will rot and decay like their bodies, like their futures.

God, if he could no longer feel, he'd be a much better person.

"You know you cannot defeat Madara, Orochimaru. I doubt even I can, should he truly be alive. For now, let your sensei take care of you. Please…rest."

Hiruzen cares for him. Does he deserve it? The warmth that fills his chest is too addicting for him to care right now.

"I will act as a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf Village," he tells Hiruzen, meeting his eyes unwavering. "I do not know if we are on the right or wrong side of the war, but I will fight to protect my precious people."

Hiruzen, for the first time in so long, smiles. "After all these years, you're still the same boy as from when we first met. No matter how bad things get, you're able to stay true to yourself. I'm glad we met."

To him, life is sacred and fragile. Death taunts life with its eternal, brutal clutch. It shouldn't be this way. So many lives, so many years wrapped inside a heart that should not be extinguished with a bloody end.

He fights to protect his loved ones' right to live and dignity to die in peace.

Orochimaru escapes—well, cleared to leave—the Leaf Hospital a few days later. He couldn't get access to see his other teammates, so that must mean their respective Clan Elders are being very annoying. He made sure to leave at dawn so he can avoid the ire of Tsunade.

Just his luck, landing in the hospital a month before the war and now. Nobody ever likes it when she heals while furious.

He had to put on his old uniform, but the hospital cleaned and treated his outfit as best they could. None of his weapons or scrolls were tampered with. It's against the law, but he's needs to make sure nobody altered anything.

I need to check again in a more secured place.

Does he have the right equipment? He'd wrote Clean Up on his calendar, though that day has long since passed and hasn't been crossed out. Perhaps—

Someone is running behind him. Clunky and loud: not like shinobi shoes at all. Unless the person intends to barrel into him, they need to move.

Closer and closer.

His arms are folded tight across his chest. When did he do that? Pulling out a kunai like this will be problematic.

The steps slow by a hair. Metal jostles metal, muffled by cloth. His elongated shadow from the waking sun points behind him. Tsunade's bad luck has spread.

The person collides into him.

An arm wrapped around his neck, another grabbing his upper arm so that his elbow does not jab the assailant in the chest. An aroma of oil and cheap cologne.

At once, his body relaxes.

"Looks like someone's getting careless. I saw you strolling out the hospital. Wonder what shook up your world this time?"

Jiraiya's eyes, dark pinpoints surrounded by white, catch the light and shine like embers. He'd long ditched the war uniform, instead choosing to wear a loose, pale blue kimono top. Gold pearls bejewel the green wrist cuffs and bob along with every stride. Despite being 24-years-old, his loosened obi belt reveals his mesh undershirt in a manner similar to a child.

Then again, Orochimaru has a black turtleneck on. Perhaps exposing his lean and muscular chest using a flesh-colored undertone rather than the abundant gray or black is the whole point.

He pulls away from Jiraiya's grip, not before he catches a whiff of roses on his hair. "Did you spend the night with a woman before coming here?"

The crooked grin on Jiraiya's face has to hurt. "Absolutely not! I walked for ages getting back to the Leaf and saw my old teammate first—that's right, you're the first person I've seen. You assume the worst of me, Orochimaru."

"Not an assumption." He glances at his white mane. "There is women's shampoo."

Jiraiya freezes. At length, he groans. "For real? I can't believe you can smell it. I can't even smell it…"

Unsurprising. Covering the curve of his lips with a fist, he speaks before Jiraiya can make excuses. "I trust you did your assignment?"

Jiraiya's frown fades as if it never arrived. "Yes, Dad, I got the intel and—because I have a work-life balance unlike you—gave myself a little reward! Is that so bad? That's the whole point of life, though! You gotta live it."

Sure…

"Can you really not control your desire?" he says, curious.

"I could, but why? I love women!" Jiraiya presses a hand against his chest, as if the weight of his words pulls at his core. "They're so wonderful, buddy. Us guys, yunno, we just come in, come out, but women have to be careful. They got so much more at stake in relationships. So, they're picky. Only the best man can win her heart and make her no longer afraid to risk it all. And you know what?"

"Please, I have heard enough talk—"

"It's our duty as men to make sure women never regret that choice. We gotta make our women safe and happy. We've got everything they lack so we can protect them. Provide for them. Every time a lady thinks of me as the one they wanna trust…how can I say no to that? Plus, the best reason as to why I, as a respectful man, can never say no:"—Jiraiya drops his voice to a whisper—"they're smoking hot."

Orochimaru rolls his eyes up towards the Pure Land and beyond.

"I'm dead serious here! Man, when I got bored, I just started writing my dream woman. I'm talking a chest the size of Tsunade's—maybe even Tokonoma's! Aside the fact that she's married—"

He genuinely does not understand how, in one moment, he's escaped that hospital only to be trapped into Jiraiya's graphic raving. Then again, Jiraiya must be excited as it's been six whole months since they've talked.

It wasn't as if Jiraiya would risk sending a letter during an intel mission.

He lets him speak for a while. "I believe Hazuo would love to hear that."

"Woah! Woah, no! I'm kidding. C'mon, man. Ever had a crush? Fallen in love? Desired someone you couldn't have…?"

Had he? Anything?

Jiraiya notes his shaking head with a thoughtful frown. "Seriously, how long have you been saying that? Nothing's changed? Here I am thinking you're just married to working, but that's not normal. Not this long."

He twists his gaze away. "Oh."

"Wait! Not in a mean way. Sorry, Orochimaru. I was just trying to soften this next part."

He looks at him out the corner of his eye.

"Since you haven't had feelings for women," Jiraiya says deliberately, "you ever considered men?"

"What feelings about men?"

"Um, you know, what I've been talking about, maybe."

No, he has never considered making a dream man and talking at length about Hazuo despite the fact that he's married. Is Jiraiya poking fun at him? "I must commend you for wasting my limited tolerance on absolutely nothing—"

Jiraiya throws an arm around his shoulder, bringing their heads together. "Well, even if you'll never get it, you're stuck between Tsuna and me forever, Ochi."

He immediately walks out Jiraiya's grip, ignoring the younger's laughing. What's the point in pet names? He'll never understand. It's through this that the scent of smoke reaches him first. He glances back at Jiraiya's stomach.

"Hey…" Jiraiya's smile vanishes.

They've approached the heart of the Leaf Village where businesses and restaurants began to open their doors. Tables are warmed by cloth on top a battery cell. Its patrons huddle together as if telling ghost stories over campfire. The lucky ones can sit near the kitchen and be comforted by its heat and appetizing aromas.

"Later…I've got to tell you something important."

Orochimaru forces himself to remain silent. Being in the depths of war, it'd be unreasonable to have a meal with Jiraiya even though the hundreds of scents became a nauseating mess, those who could not grasp volume would give way to headaches, and the sluggishness that would weigh his body from talking for an hour started to make his responses clipped, scowls deeper. Yet, after making it to his apartment and relaxing within the comfort of being alone, he would make plans for tomorrow's meal.

Jiraiya smirks, eyes dull. "It's nothing too bad! Sorry for making it seem like a big deal. I just…I want your opinion on something. But, I'll mention it to you at the Home once Tsuna and me are done talking."

The gap between responses grows, though now he can say without much effort, "That is fine. When have you last ate?"

"Huh? Oh. Um…"

"I will make you a bath and breakfast." Not glancing at the other, he hustles away.

"What? Wait! Didn't you just get out the hospital? You don't have to do that! Don't ignore me, Orochimaru!"

AN: Yes, you read the chapter title correctly. The entirety of the present chapters span 16 years.