Chapter 2

Copper, Victory, or a Bit of Both

Part I

'Fight me!'

I arched an eyebrow. Of all the preposterous things Jiraiya had said to me up to that moment – and there was an abundance of them – this was by far the most idiotic. 'Why would I?'

He flared his nostrils and gritted his teeth like a crazed bull. '"Orochimaru this, Orochimaru that"!' he proclaimed in an exaggeratedly deep voice. 'I'm sick and tired of the old man talking about you all the time like you're some sort of genius. I'm going to prove I'm stronger than he thinks, so you have to fight me!'

Behind him, hands on her hips, Tsunade threw her head back and rolled her eyes at the sky. Beside her, arms folded across his chest and eyes narrowed, Sarutobi-sensei watched us in silence. I ought to give it to Jiraiya: he might be an idiot, but he was not a coward. Few would have had the courage to imitate the Third Hokage right in front of the man himself.

Even though we had been his students for months, even I still struggled with the notion that I was at liberty to call him "Sarutobi-sensei" instead of "Hokage-sama"; that I was being trained by the most powerful shinobi in Konoha. Then again, I doubted Jiraiya's birdbrain could truly comprehend Sarutobi-sensei's status. That would explain his reckless lack of respect.

'You had your opportunity,' I reminded him, glancing at the meadow around us, bordered by thick forestation on three sides and a lively river on the fourth. 'Right here on the Third Training Ground, if I remember correctly. It ended with you tied up to that log.' I pointed with my chin towards three logs, planted into the ground at an even distance from one another, and shrugged. 'I'm not interested in repeating the experience. It was pathetic enough the first time.'

Jiraiya's hands clenched into fists, his face took on a bright red tinge, and his cheeks inflated like his head was going to burst. In the end, it was Tsunade who exploded first, drawing our collective attention.

'By the gods!' she thundered. To my surprise, she was glaring at me. 'Do you have to rile him up like that, Orochimaru?'

I furrowed my brows without replying. In truth, I was not trying to "rile him up", as she put it; I didn't think Jiraiya was worth the trouble. I was being honest: I didn't see the point in him making a fool of himself again, when the three of us could have carried on with our training and thus make a much more productive use of our day.

'Ha!' Jiraiya plastered a confident smile across his face and crossed his arms. 'I knew it! You might look all perfect during practice, but you're scared of a real fight!'

I narrowed my eyes at him, then I closed them, exhaled, and lifted my shoulders. 'Fine. I will fight you.'

I was by no means rising to his pitiful bait, but, for some reason, Sarutobi-sensei was not intervening and Jiraiya could go on moaning for hours, so, if I wanted to engage in any real training today, it seemed like this was the quickest way to have my wish granted. A part of me was also curious to measure my skills in battle, I had to admit. The bell test, two days after the graduation ceremony, had been the last time I had had a taste of that. Since then, four months before, we had only performed individual training, with minimal sparring unless it was with Sarutobi-sensei, and completed D-rank missions ranging from cat-sitting to buying groceries for the elderly. It was not exactly what I envisioned my shinobi life to look like, so Jiraiya's proposition seemed like an outlet for my increasing frustration, even though I doubted he could provide a suitable challenge. Tsunade, perhaps, but not him.

Alas, beggars can't be choosers.

I watched Jiraiya's Adam's apple bob up and down as he gulped, dumbstruck. 'Oh.'

He gaped at me for a moment, then stole a glance at Sarutobi-sensei with open anticipation, as if waiting for him to stop us. Tsunade, too, stared at him and barked, 'Are you going to say anything, sensei?'

Sarutobi-sensei stroked his goatee thoughtfully. 'You heard Jiraiya. He wants to prove himself to me. So be it. If nothing else, it will teach them both a lesson.' He flashed her a conspiratorial grin. 'Do you want to bet on the winner?'

She scoffed. 'I'll do you one better. I bet Orochimaru can take him down in five minutes.'

A sneer lurked under my carefully constructed blank façade, which felt more and more natural by the day in place of any other expression. Defeating Jiraiya was not going to take that long.

'All right.' Sarutobi-sensei clapped his hands together. 'You two, get into position. There are no rules, except that we stop when one of you either draws blood or gives up.'

He moved over to the middle of the meadow while Jiraiya and I headed off in opposite directions – he towards the forest, I towards the river. Tsunade retreated to the three logs, vaulted on top of the one in the middle, and dangled her legs as though she were on a playground, chin resting on her cupped hands.

I counted ten strides, then spun on my heels, and found that my opponent and I were moving in unison, like partners locked into a primal dance of victory and defeat. Sarutobi-sensei stood at the centre of the invisible line drawn between us, but neither was looking at him. I stared Jiraiya down and he glared back, shifting his right foot forward and his left foot back, his preferred stance whether he intended to attack or strike one of his ridiculous poses. I redistributed my weight on my feet without changing my position. Just like I recognised his posture, he might be able to recognise my own and predict my strategy, so I was careful not to look any different than if I were going to walk home at the end of a training session.

Sarutobi-sensei glanced at each of us in rapid succession, lifted his right arm over his head, and brought it down in a straight line, cutting through the air as though wielding a blade. 'Begin!'

As soon as he stepped out of the way, Jiraiya rushed forward, right fist raised and a manic grin plastered on his face. I sidestepped him, threw out one leg, and smiled at him as his eyes widened and he tumbled to the ground. It might have been the first time I had ever smiled at him since our first meeting.

Much to my chagrin, he smiled back and winked at me.

Then he vanished in a puff of smoke and left a log in his place. Substitution. So the fool had learnt something from our training after all.

His downfall was his ineptitude at hiding his own chakra. Without having to look, I detected it above me and flickered to a spot two meters to my right. I sensed the air split open under his heel as he brought his foot down in the space my head had occupied mere seconds before. He landed in a squat and glanced up, but he was too slow and raised his head to get my fist right in the teeth. The impact sent him flying backwards. He landed on his back and rolled on his side with a grunt.

I watched him through narrowed eyes, ever so slightly out of breath.

Had he just tried to kill me? If his kick had hit its target, it could have cracked my skull. The notion forced me to bite back a savage smirk. Wasn't that interesting.

I prowled towards him as he slowly hauled himself up on all fours, then on one knee. I could have ended the match right then and there, when he was still lying on the ground at my complete mercy, but I took my time making my way towards him. I didn't want it to end. Not yet.

When he realised I was getting closer, Jiraiya reached for the shuriken holster strapped to his left leg, hidden under the kimono. I threw a shuriken of my own at the ground, centimetres away from his fingers, and felt a rush of warmth surge within me when he pulled his hand away with a gasp. So this was what fighting felt like.

Like power.

At last, I came to stand before him, looming over his crouched form. He had to lift his chin to look at me as if I were the sun. He was taller than me, so I found the new perspective fascinating. He scowled at me, biting down into his bottom lip until he drew blood, and I tasted victory on my tongue.

And then, all of a sudden, he was gone with a single, mocking pop!

I blinked fast a dozen times, as though awakening from a wonderful dream to find myself in a nightmare reality. How had he cloned himself without me noticing? And when did that oaf learn the First Hokage's Shadow Clone Technique? I knew he trained after Sarutobi-sensei dismissed us for the day, but I had never investigated that. I had grown complacent, too comfortable with his shenanigans and countless displays of inferiority. And now, in this battle, I had underestimated him, lost as I was in my own self-confidence and in that new, inebriating feeling that my apparent ability to overcome an opponent who intended to kill me sparked within me.

Had he led me on, pretending to be awkward and unskilled, so that he could gain an advantage over me? Had I truly let myself be fooled by Jiraiya?

I didn't notice when I tightened my hands into fists and dug my nails into my palms. I didn't notice the chakra rising to the surface of my skin to surround me like an invisible suit of armour, even though it blew through my hair and clothes like a howling gale. All I knew were the depths of… What? What was it that I felt like a gaping hole in my stomach?

At first I thought it was anger, but it triggered the same adrenaline rush I got from realising that Jiraiya could have dealt me a fatal blow had I not been fast enough to dodge him earlier. It was hunger, but not for food. I was starving for something else, something I had got a taste of during this fight, yet not enough to satisfy me or to be able to understand what it was. Did Jiraiya feel the same?

'Hey, Orochimaru!'

At the sound of his voice, the hungry beast within me reared its head. My own blood pulsed loudly in my veins, my fingers were trembling, and my lips twitched from the desire to curl into a grin that my well-honed instinct compelled me to suppress.

I turned my head in the direction of his call so abruptly that he blinked in surprise when our gazes met. He was standing behind me, grinning, hands together in front of his chest to form the Ram sign. I sensed his chakra surging to respond to his command, and pushed mine towards him in a single, powerful wave that blew both his smile and his chakra out like they were feeble flames caught in a hurricane. He gaped at me for a few seconds, and I could see it in his blank expression that his mind simply could not process what was happening. To be fair to him, I wouldn't have been able to explain it myself. I was all instinct. Instinct and hunger.

He began to say, 'How did you…?'

Then he fell quiet, his face went pale, and he swallowed. I watched his Adam's apple again. It was moving more slowly this time, as if fear clung to it like a ball and chain. He was holding my gaze like he couldn't help himself. What did he see in it? Could he perhaps glimpse the vastity of the abyss eating away at me? That was when the answer to my own question dawned on me: No, Jiraiya was not experiencing that same abyss, or else he would have been able to counter my stare instead of falling prey to it.

When I noticed he was starting to recover from his shock, I reached for another shuriken and hurled it at him. The incoming attack pulled him out of his reverie, and he jumped out of the way. The small success reinvigorated him, for he turned to me with a new smirk on his face, albeit smaller, and shouted, 'Ha! Too slo…!'

Before he could finish the sentence, I completed a sequence of hand signs he had been too busy dancing with my weapon to notice. 'Shuriken Shadow Clone Jutsu!'

Jiraiya's triumphant screeching died out when he realised the shuriken was multiplying into countless copies, until he was surrounded by an army of them, held still in the air with threads of my own chakra.

In the silence that followed – so uncharacteristic for him – I could sense his growing panic as he realised that he had no escape. Even if he were to attempt the Substitution Technique again, there were only so many times in a row he would be able to perform it. Sooner or later, one shuriken would hit the mark.

I allowed myself a moment to inhale his fear and savour it on my tongue. Training dummies, my chuunin instructors, and Sarutobi-sensei never felt truly threatened in a fight against me. They admired and praised my skills, but they weren't frightened.

In that moment, I realised that admiration was good, but fear was so much sweeter.

And it helped quell the hunger and calm the monster in me down.

Lowering one arm like a judge condemning a convict to death, I released the first barrage of shuriken. Another puff of smoke alerted me to Jiraiya's second attempt at substitution, so I sent out three more volleys in rapid succession.

The shuriken hissed like angry wasps as they darted through the air. Jiraiya squatted down behind the log he chose as his replacement, shielding himself from the onslaught of weapons, then spun on his heels and made a run for the trees lining the meadow, arms held high to cover his face.

I waved my fingers, pulling on the chakra strings attached to each shuriken to drop the remaining ones on him at irregular intervals in a random pattern.

The sounds of steel tearing through cotton and Jiraiya's muffled grunts whenever he was hit blended together in a brutally harmonious melody, and I relaxed into its rhythm like a babe might relax into the rhythm of their mother's lullaby.

If that was what it was like to have loving parents, I could understand why Sarutobi-sensei seemed so appalled that I did not miss mine.

All of a sudden, a shrill, ringing sound intruded upon my peace. It seemed to come from far, far away, worlds removed from the Third Training Ground and from this glorious moment, in which I, Orochimaru, was chasing my prey. It was Tsunade's laughter, and in that instant I hated her for that distraction, for ruining that sublime experience.

'Look at you, Jiraiya!' she was yelling. 'Running away like a pig!'

I shut out her voice and focused only on the shuriken clones and Jiraiya, who had stopped running and was leaning against a tree, panting and glaring at the remaining weapons, far too many for him to avoid.

Now that he was standing still, I could assess my handiwork: there were small tears in the fabric of his kimono all over his shoulders, back, and arms, as well as minute gashes on his face. None of the wounds were deep enough to draw blood, yet I imagined they must sting nonetheless.

I pulled the shuriken closer to him and felt the tug of a savage grin at the corner of my lips at the same time as he bared his teeth into a snarl. We both knew he wasn't going to run again. His breathing was too erratic, his body shaking too hard from the effort. He wouldn't get anywhere fast enough. All he could do was wait for me to attack or have mercy.

I released two shuriken at the same time. They came at him from two opposite directions, further reducing his chances of evading them. He ducked before one, but the other embedded itself into his thigh, stealing a gasp from his lips and forcing him on one knee. A crimson flower blossomed on his trousers, the most beautiful bud I had ever seen.

I licked my thin lips and wished I could lick Jiraiya's blood instead. What would it taste like? Copper, victory, or a bit of both?

I flickered and materialised at his side, towering over him for the second time in this battle. I could have watched him in that state – helpless and subdued – forever. He raised his head and caught my eyes. Whatever he could see in them, it made his own fly wide open and his entire body stiffen. His Adam's apple was rising and falling as fast as a hummingbird. I didn't need to touch him to know his heartbeat was skyrocketing.

Are you afraid of me, Jiraiya?

I drank his fright like a starved man would drink from a spring in the middle of a desert, only to find out that it is but a puddle. It was good, but I wanted more. My hand shot up towards my shoulder, towards the button that would discharge a kunai from my hidden holster.

'Oy…' He cleared his throat, unable to avert his gaze from mine, prisoner of my stare like I had been prisoner of the two-headed snake's. When I didn't answer, he repeated himself, this time a little louder: 'Oy! You won, all right?' He scrambled to get to his feet, lost his balance, and fell on his backside. 'Stop looking at me like that, you creep!'

He looked like a worm writhing in the grass. Or a pig, like Tsunade had said. What would he look like when my kunai cut him open from neck to belly button?

'Orochimaru! Enough!'

Sarutobi-sensei's voice struck me like a lightning bolt. The shock was strong enough to force the hunger holding me in its iron grip to release me. I felt like I could breathe again and like someone severed one of my limbs at the same time. I let my arm fall limp at my side and took a step back, putting some distance between me and Jiraiya.

What just happened?

I would need some time alone to find an answer to that question. In that moment, all I knew was that, if Sarutobi-sensei had not interrupted, I would have killed Jiraiya. I stared down at my palms, which bore no trace of the fight, almost like it never happened. And yet, the memories of it – the rush of chakra and adrenaline, that heady feeling of pure triumph, the taste of blood in my mouth and its smell in my nostrils – raged like a storm inside my mind.

Sarutobi-sensei appeared between Jiraiya and me and glared down at him, fists resting on his hips. 'Are you quite done embarrassing yourself?' Jiraiya grunted something unintelligible in response, Sarutobi-sensei sighed, and cast a sideways look at me, which I glimpsed out of the corner of my eye. 'Orochimaru…' Something in his gaze – something thoughtful and calculating – told me that, for all my efforts, I hadn't been able to fully hide what came over me during the sparring match. I steeled myself for whatever reproach might come next, but he only said, 'You fought well.' He tore his eyes away from mine to meet Jiraiya's once more. 'Both of you, in fact. You still have a lot to learn from Orochimaru's ways, Jiraiya, but you have improved. That's all I needed to know.'

I narrowed my eyes. Jiraiya scowled at him and blurted out, 'What are you talking about, old man?'

'I'm sure we're all tired of D- and C-rank missions,' Sarutobi-sensei replied. 'But, before I let you three take on something more difficult, I wanted to make sure you were ready. Especially you, Jiraiya. Congratulations! You passed the test. In three days' time, we'll leave Konoha on our first B-rank mission.'

That's why he let Jiraiya pick a fight with me, I realised. Once again, I was reminded that this was not only my sensei, but also the Third Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves. I couldn't allow myself to underestimate him; I had done that with Jiraiya, a much less worthy opponent, and that had almost cost me my victory.

'Hey, Sarutobi-sensei!' Tsunade materialised at his side, arms folded over her chest. 'Just so you know, I didn't technically lose. Orochimaru would have won in less than five minutes if he hadn't stalled.' She turned the full strength of her murderous glare on me. 'What were you playing at, anyway? Sensei said to stop at first blood!'

I tilted my head to the side and scoffed. I had long since learnt not to be intimidated by her loudness. She was all bark and no bite. 'He wasn't bleeding yet.'

She raised one of her mighty fists. 'As good as, you…!'

I narrowed my eyes at her. Although her hand was still in mid-air, her blow never fell and her insult got stuck in her throat. I could never resist taking advantage of the effect my slit pupils and yellow irises seemed to have on her. 'A real enemy wouldn't pull their punches, Tsunade.'

She gritted her teeth. 'You were toying with him, you…!'

'Didn't you hear me?' Sarutobi-sensei cut in with his most imposing tone of voice, which always commanded everybody's silence and attention, including mine, much to my chagrin. 'We're going to go on a mission outside the Land of Fire in three days. This is no time for childish squabbles. I want you to go home, train, and meet me at the village entrance gates at eight o'clock in the morning on Wednesday. Have I made myself clear?'

At last, Tsunade lowered her arm and stuck her tongue through her teeth in the centre of a grimace, but nodded. 'Yes, Sarutobi-sensei.'

'Good. You are dismissed.' He scratched the back of his head. 'Orochimaru, you stay behind for a minute.'

Jiraiya glared at me once again and muttered, 'Typical,' under his breath. Tsunade busied herself helping him to his feet so that Sarutobi-sensei wouldn't hear her snort. 'Come on. Let's go put some ointment on those cuts,' she told Jiraiya, digging her nails into his arm and dragging him towards the exit of the Third Training Ground. 'See you Wednesday, sensei!'

'And don't you go teaching him another technique!' shouted Jiraiya before she clamped a hand over his mouth without ceremony.

I raised an eyebrow. Another? I realised the oaf must be referring to the Shuriken Shadow Clone Jutsu. Indeed, it was one of Sarutobi-sensei's signature techniques, but he had not given me extra training to learn it. Unlike Jiraiya, I didn't need to be spoon-fed knowledge to reach even the most mediocre level of expertise.

When I shifted my attention from their retreating backs to Sarutobi-sensei, I realised he was watching me, stroking his goatee like he did whenever he was mulling something over.

'What did you want to talk to me about, sensei?' I asked after a stretch of silence.

'How do you like your teammates, Orochimaru?'

I confessed to staring at him for a few seconds, dumbfounded. Of all the things I expected him to ask, this was simply not one of them. At last, I shrugged. 'Tsunade has great strength and adequate intelligence despite her temper. Jiraiya has… stamina.'

He hummed, although I could not say for certain whether it was in agreement or not. 'And how do you like them as comrades? Friends?'

I frowned. What did it matter? We weren't Academy students; we were shinobi. The Shinobi Code of Conduct was clear on feelings: "A shinobi must always put the mission first." "A shinobi must never show their tears during a mission." "A shinobi must never show any weakness." These were only three of the many shinobi rules clearly stating that emotions like friendship were a liability in our line of work.

Much as it frustrated me, I could not give that answer, for I was sure it would elicit the same reaction as my refusal to bring flowers to my parents' graves.

Fortunately, it was Sarutobi-sensei himself who spared me from replying: 'You are not endearing yourself to them much.'

I let out a long-suffering sigh. 'I have tried to tell Jiraiya you are not giving me extra training, sensei. He didn't listen. I got tired of justifying myself for something I am not doing.'

He stared into the distance for some time, clearly lost in thought, though I could not tell what he might be pondering. It peeved me that he could still guess my desires and feelings with reasonable accuracy despite my attempts at concealing them, yet I could not do the same with him quite as well.

'They are jealous of your abilities.' He nodded, more to himself than to me. 'But you intimidate them, too. What you did today…' He crouched down so that our faces were level and rested a hand on my shoulder. Rather than encouraging, the gesture felt commanding, like he was holding me down instead of patting me. His serious dark eyes bore into mine. 'You scared them. Do you know why?' When I could only frown in response, trying and failing to predict where he was going with this monologue, he continued, 'Before I stopped the fight, you did something to Jiraiya. It's known as Killing Intent. Do you know what that is?'

Killing Intent. The term struck me like a slap to the face. Of course!

It made sense now. The hunger, which fed on Jiraiya's fear and my own sense of power over him. The look in Jiraiya's eyes when he stared into mine. His pitiful cry: Stop looking at me like that, you creep!

He must have seen his own death reflected in my gaze.

It irked me a little that Sarutobi-sensei figured out I had used Killing Intent before I did, but the excitement of my discovery soon overtook every other feeling.

Belatedly, I realised he was still waiting for an answer to his last question, so I nodded. 'Yes, sensei. We covered the subject at the Academy. Killing Intent is, as the name implies, the desire to kill one's opponent. Sometimes, it can be so powerful as to paralyse the victim with terror, and can thus be mistaken for genjutsu.'

I was careful to keep my face and voice void of all emotion, and my gaze fixed to the ground. I couldn't let Sarutobi-sensei catch even a glimpse of my enthusiasm. What if he decided I was too unnatural, too unstable to join him and my teammates on our first real mission? No. I was not going to give him any excuse to hold me back, even if meant keeping my elation about that new insight – and the many questions that came with it – to myself.

'Well-prepared as usual.'

It should have been praise, but it didn't sound like it. I felt a single drop of cold sweat running down my spine, and dug my nails into my palms as I waited in silence. With my head bent, I couldn't see his expression, which only exacerbated my increasing horror.

Was this it? Was this the end of my shinobi career, nipped in the bud by a mistake I hadn't even known I had committed?

'Why did you feel so strongly about killing one of your friends, Orochimaru-kun?'

Orochimaru-kun.

He would only call me that when he thought me vulnerable… and, perhaps, when he wanted to think of me that way. It occurred to me then that Sarutobi-sensei didn't want to stop me from becoming a shinobi.

For one, he had always encouraged me, letting me practise techniques that any other teacher would have assumed to be above my level, challenging me to be not only the youngest Academy graduate in the history of the village, but also the one with the highest grades.

Aside from our personal relationship, great ninja make for great soldiers, and, even though the war had ended, this didn't mean peace would last forever. As the Hokage, he had to take that into account. Denying me a life I was so obviously suited for would be a waste of potential that he couldn't afford.

At the same time, he felt like he ought to restrain the side of me that no one in Konoha seemed to understand or accept, the side that wouldn't cry over my parents' weakness or spare an ally in combat.

With that single word – Orochimaru-kun – he was offering me a compromise: Prove to me that there is nothing to worry about, and I will turn a blind eye.

If I could hide the side that he didn't like well enough, he could pretend it didn't exist.

My thoughts were racing in my head. Was I reading too much into that suffix? Was I delusional, desperately trying to find a way out of a hopeless situation? I didn't know the answer. My only certainty was that my future as a shinobi depended upon my next reply. So I took a deep breath, silenced the restless voices in my mind, and raised my head to meet Sarutobi-sensei's eyes once again.

'I wasn't thinking about killing Jiraiya, sensei,' I said. 'I was thinking of the war. Of the enemies that killed my parents.' I made myself frown, as though I was recalling a bad memory or a nightmare. 'I was imagining them in his place.' I shook my head and cast my gaze at the ground again, this time to simulate remorse. 'I would never harm one of my teammates.'

Silence opened up like a chasm between us, threatening to drive me to insanity. My heart was fluttering so hard against my ribcage that each beat made my chest throb with pain. My lungs felt like they shrunk with every breath I drew, making the next a shorter, shallower gasp. I wanted to steal a glance at his face, but did not dare.

Finally, finally, he spoke again: 'I understand. But a ninja must never forget the difference between their allies and their enemies. Have I made myself clear?'

I was so overcome with relief that I felt dizzy and light-headed, as though I was going to pass out. It took me some time to process that I ought to look suitably subdued. I bowed my head and responded in a quiet voice: 'Yes, sensei. I apologise for my behaviour.'

He chuckled and loosened his grasp on my shoulder. 'I can't stay angry at you, can I?' I looked up to find him watching me with that touch of paternal warmth in his smile that never failed to make me feel uncomfortable. He waved his free hand in the direction Tsunade and Jiraiya had gone off to earlier. 'Go home. Get some rest. We have an important mission ahead of us. I want you three to be at your best.'

"At my best". Strong, but not too strong. Fearsome, but not too fearsome. Brittle and broken, but not so much that he would cut himself with the shards of my shattered self; just enough that he could gaze upon me with a fatherly smile.

Prove to me that there is nothing to worry about, and I will turn a blind eye.

For the first time, I understood what I needed to do to keep walking my own path without the incessant fear that Sarutobi-sensei might hold me back. That was an even greater victory than the one I achieved in the fight against Jiraiya.

With renewed confidence, I found myself hoping that this "important mission" involved enemies on whom I could test two hypotheses.

The first was inspired by Sarutobi-sensei's suggestion: Was I truly capable of exuding such strong Killing Intent that I could bind my enemies with shackles made out of their own fear, like it seemed I had unwittingly done with Jiraiya?

The second followed on from the first: Could I control it?

Chapter notes:

1. You can find the reference for what Killing Intent (Sakki) is on Narutopedia.

2. There is a flashback at some point in the anime, showing Orochimaru as he demonstrates the Third Hokage's Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique. Sarutobi is watching and thinks about what a prodigy his pupil truly is.

3. Chapter 2 became way too long, so it's been broken down into two parts. As a result, there will be four parts to this first book instead of three.

It makes me a bit sad that Orochimaru-centric fanfictions are not as numerous or as popular as I would like them to be. Luckily, it also makes me appreciate those who read, leave likes, add this story to their followed/favourite ones, and review. So thank you!

I look forward to hearing what you think about this chapter. I don't often describe fights, so I'm keen on feedback!

Lastly, while I wouldn't call it a trailer for this story, I made an Orochimaru-centric fan video on my YouTube channel, Nikias Tomasiello. It's titled "Orochimaru | Rule the World [Naruto AMV]". Unfortunately, this site won't let me post a link.