Dystopia Unleashed

By WhoIsThisDamnAuthor

Damn. That last one was a biggie.

Seven thousand words. I've never written a chapter that big before.

Sheesh. I'm back to my usual 6K range, and will try to stick to it from now on.

Read on...

Chapter 10: Frustration

"So, your mission for today is to find Haramaki-san's cat."

Sarutobi Hiruzen maintained his impassive expression, even as three aghast faces stared right back at him. Kushina stood a little to their left. Giving them a murderous glance, she shut them up, turning them into meek, if slightly sulky, thirteen-year-old outpatients.

Their exit from the hospital was rather...eventful. The nurse on duty had come to find random replacements lying under the sheets. Obito still lay there, sprawled on the bed like the lazy idiot he was, snoring contentedly. Kakashi had used a human skeleton, using the transformation jutsu to make it look like his facsimile. Rin had also done something similar, leaving a little chakra bubble to fill up the sheet, making it look like someone was under it, and transforming a pillow to look like her sleeping head.

What the nurse had found most disturbing, was the caricature that was definitely not Goku's face lying on his pillow. It was drawn using a pink pill as a chalk, and looked surprisingly like what the nurse imagined a teacup pig's wet dream would look like.

Kushina had headed the search party, and had found the three retards training in the same grounds they'd got beaten in, adamant to train as much as they could. Rin was taking the two boys on, two on one. They had taken significantly more damage than her in the fight, while she'd ended up with only severe exhaustion as her admitting symptom. The three were so competitive that they decided to leave one day before Rin's early discharge.

She'd decided that these three, if left unsupervised, would definitely end up back in the infirmary with even worse injuries. She'd shepherded them right to the Hokage's chambers, and insisted that the three, under her tutelage, do all the available D-Rank missions that were open at the moment.

You children and your irresponsible behaviour!

Sarutobi Hiruzen was about to explode with anger.

These straggling ingrates knew not how lucky they were to be alive, notwithstanding the fact that they were well enough to be assigned a mission. Also, he was infuriated at their sheer lack of concern for their sensei, who lay in the Intensive Care ward, chakra completely run dry after the barrage of rasengans he'd let loose with reckless abandon. Oh, the topic of that imbecile was a different question again.

Shuddering with rage, he took a few deep breaths, calming himself down. This was not a time to get all worked up. This was not a time to be telling them that they were mere fledglings, too inexperienced to handle anything else. Especially not so soon after the incident. He was supposed to be a pillar of support to the supposedly traumatised trio, after all.

In the week following the blonde Jonin's uncharacteristic outburst, the village had been a swirling mass in which rumors, hearsay and controversy floated like flotsam after a shipwreck. Everyone seemed to have their own version of the event. Some said it was Minato finally cracking under the pressure of being a Jonin at his age. Others denied it, saying it was those brats who were ungrateful enough to deserve a little...disciplining, to put it in affable terms. Some even went as far as saying that the Uchiha had something to do with it, where they were capable of nearly killing one of their own clan members to get their agenda forwarded in the village council.

The worst of them was one retard claiming that Minato had personal grudge against Kakashi, because he'd been getting some on the side from Kushina. Hiruzen had never heard such baseless, simply scandalous rumors before. All of this was bullshit, and Hiruzen had dismissed them as soon as he heard how ridiculous they were. A simple training test had absolutely nothing to do with the village's administration and leadership.

Oh, he'd felt absolutely furious when a messenger had informed him about Minato's latest exploits. Hiruzen knew that Minato didn't want to take on a team. He knew that whatever test he was going to conduct on those three hapless Genins would be an utter, confidence-raping rout which would end with all three of them in tears, covered with mud, and exhausted to the point of death. What he'd never expected was how far beyond even this generously drawn line Minato had gone.

After all, they were shinobi, and even putting aside their military and strategic worth, they were Konoha's very own people. The Sandaime refused to believe that the gentle, loyal Minato, who always spoke so fervently about the village and its people being of paramount importance to him, would so carelessly play with the lives of four children in such a cruel way. For no matter how talented they were, they were Genins, and thirteen-year-olds to boot.

This kind of incident so soon after the boy's entrance made it too perfect to be a simple coincidence. Something changed when he arrived, claiming to have no backstory, no background of any sort. At the time, Hiruzen had taken it at face value. But now, after what had happened, it was imperative that he talk to the child at once. And he would have done exactly that, had a very surprising visit from Uchiha Mikoto not changed his mind.

"Hokage-sama, I assure you that he had nothing to do with this." When he'd remained skeptical, she'd gone on to tell him about the test in detail, how he appeared normal at first, then gradually getting more and more ominous, eventually culminating in the violent, rasengan-flinging freak during the fight for real. "Also," she'd reasoned, "Why would he go through the trouble of causing this, and getting hurt himself in the battle? If he was really controlling Minato's actions, wouldn't he try to avoid injury?"

The Sandaime had to concede on that point. There was no motive for self-injury, unless the kid was a massive masochist. Then again, what did he know about him? He'd taken it lightly, pawning the responsibility onto Minato's shoulders, but now it seemed that the yellow-haired Jonin wasn't entirely reliable either. What if the genjutsu had been placed on him in that forest? Not by Goku, definitely. His tenketsu weren't even open then; there was no way to fake that.

Who else could it be? Someone who wanted desperately to derail the eighteen-year-old's contention for the coveted position Hiruzen was about to hand over to him, maybe. It definitely narrowed down the list of suspects considerably. For only a selected group of individuals even knew that the Sandaime was retiring. This wasn't going to happen in the immediate future, far from it. The village was still reeling from the horrendous aftermath of the Second Shinobi War. The post of the Hokage wasn't going to have a fourth for at least another couple of years.

Yondaime... It felt awkward to even think of that brat becoming mature enough to take on this mountainous responsibility, but even the old man had to admit that he was definitely capable of it. And that was exactly how his image in the village had been, until this incident. The day he was given the task of training three kids, he managed to fuck it up, injuring them and himself in the process. Although the general public discussed it as an 'accident', opinions about Minato were already smudged.

He had quite the uphill battle from now on forth, if he even so much as wanted to stand for the post. The mastermind, whoever it was, had thought it out to perfection. As such, Hiruzen knew only two minds capable of coming up with a devious, damage-controlled plan such as this, and only one knew first-hand about Minato's eventual succession.

The other... He probably has already figured it out. And when it came to complex, rule-breaking genjutsu, either one could have done it. Danzo, with his Sharingan-covered arm, or Orochimaru, through sheer innovation and genius. Adding the fact that Mikoto couldn't analyse the genjutsu tilted the scales in Orochimaru's favour.

Now, it came to the final question; motive. What incentive did either one of them have for coercing Minato to kill off those four kids, Goku in particular? Danzo's ideology was trivial. Eliminate all threats to the village. All suspicious people need to be dealt with swiftly and quietly. That much was obvious. He had made it very clear that he considered the Uchiha a major threat; he had not gone and spread intrigue about the bloodstains near the enclosure. The people themselves had come to that conclusion, given the general attitude towards the Uchiha's seclusive behaviour.

So he had achieved his purpose, at least for the moment. That only left Orochimaru. What was that dastardly pupil of his doing now? Only time would tell, in his case. Orochimaru always managed to keep his intentions hidden. So, despite the fact that Hiruzen knew about the existence of his schemes, there was really nothing he could guess without confronting the man in person.

As his eyes merely watched Kushina thoroughly chew out the two Genins and the third, unknown piece, he was already mentally clearing out time from his schedule. Meeting with Nara Shikaku about some security threat. I simply cannot afford to not attend that. Maybe I could postpone this... The four would not stop bickering.

"Enough!" that was sufficient to draw all eyes in the room to him. In an exasperated voice, he continued, "Very well, Kushina. I shall give you the missions. Now leave me alone for a while. Unlike you children, I actually have work to do," Kushina got the hint. The subtle stress on the word work meant that something more pressing was on his mind than their problems at the moment.

Pushing all the kids out, she closed the door behind her. The fifty-something Hokage sat down, massaging his forehead. A migraine had suddenly popped up, unbidden. He groaned internally.

I'm getting too old for this.

Mikoto was waiting on the outside, and had gotten a tad impatient. "I've almost had it with this waiting." She looked over at her best friend. "Any luck? What mission did you get, if at all? Did you manage to convince the old geezer?"

Kushina had a downcast expression that only came from previous experience. Clearly, Haramaki-san's cat getting lost was quite the common occurrence. It was a wonder that the ninety-five year old woman kept the cat and her kittens inside the house for such long intervals. The redhead sighed; this was going to be a long day. At least the children seemed happy; they had no reason not to be. Goku seemed the most excited, flashing his newly-obtained forehead protector like a badge of honor. Man, that kid gives too many fucks in life.

Anyway, the cat wasn't going to find itself. "All right," she said, taking a step towards the pavement. The other four gathered around her. It felt good, this leadership thing. Maybe she could take it off Minato's hands for at least a while, or maybe forever...

"So. We're going to split up from here. Goku and I will take the east side, and the three of you shall take the west. If someone does manage to catch hold of this annoying feline before lunchtime, I shall personally treat him or her to lunch." After that, she had Goku's full commitment, even though she knew that he needed no incentive to jump around like a freaking monkey.

Monkey. That was the second thing churning up Kushina's mental peace that day. The kid had a tail. As interesting as that was, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease about Goku since she found out. Of course, this sort of physical manifestation of animal characteristics was not usually seen in humans, even the particularly ugly ones. (Three eyes, maybe a balloon-sized nose, maybe even blue skin, but NEVER a tail, God forbid...)

This left only a few, very unlikely explanations as to why he had a tail, and such a hairy one at that. The frontrunner by far among those was that Goku might just be...oh, Kushina didn't want to think of this, but she had to admit that it made too much sense. But, being a Jinchuuriki, she did feel a certain camaraderie with the thirteen-year-old. It was possible that the insertion of the beast might have been done at a very young age, and covered up well enough that he had no idea that it even existed, especially if it was a docile creature.

It took quite the leap of faith to believe that a beast would be docile under such circumstances. Any sentient being would protest at being imprisoned inside a human host, no matter how calm it was when free. She, at least, knew what it was like. That ungrateful little fox just would not stop thrashing for the first few weeks. She still felt a little resistance from him once every fortnight.

It was an insistent urge to go and stand proud at the edge of a cliff, and howl mournfully at the moon. Sometimes, during the harvest moon, for example, it had gotten unbearable, to the extent where she'd let out miniature whimpers during the night. It was all an effort to let the monster settle down. The previous carrier of the old fox of legend, Uzumaki Mito-sama had already mentioned how desperately difficult a task this was, and how important it was to the village that its power not fall into malignant hands.

She shook her head, driving away her nostalgia. The infernal cat had to be found, and these hyperactive children had a lesson that needed to be taught to them. Motioning to Goku, they leapt away, while Mikoto and the other two took the exact opposite direction. As they moved over the rooftops at minimal speed, searching the alleyways from above for signs of the ten-year-old tabby, Kushina couldn't help but keep glancing at the kid's rear end, with the simian appendage popping out, moving with a will of its own.

Are you a Jinchuuriki, Goku?

Also, if you are, do you know?

And finally, if you don't, would you want to?

Banzai!

Hatake Kakashi had found fur. And the unfortunate cat encased by it. He stared at it, willing it to stay still. Behind him, Rin held her breath, not moving a muscle. Mikoto stood on standby, totally uninterested. If you catch him on your first try, I'll show you... Something special, she'd said, winking for greater was sufficient incentive for the closet pervert that the gray-haired teen was.

Mikoto knew her special something was safe, though. She'd been in the same team of Genins as Kushina, and had seen what this cat was capable of. It ducked, writhed and ran away until the three idiots chasing it were bruised, battered, and in general questioning their life decisions that had brought them to this bloody point.

Taking a step forward, Kakashi tested the waters. The cat kept staring right into his eyes, not moving a muscle. He smiled. This was going to be so easy. One pounce, and they could be well on their way to a better mission. Timing his jump, he leaped. The cat looked into his eyes until the very last second. And then, with a sadistic twitch of its whiskers, it darted under his airborne body. He flailed his arms like a psychopath, but to no avail. Gravity was a cruel, cruel bitch indeed. Especially for the still-recovering thirteen year old.

CRACK! He crammed his eyes shut, biting his upper lip to try and contain the complaints of his sore muscles. Craning his neck, he looked behind, and saw the cat sitting right there. It was nonchalantly licking a paw, but in a strange way. Instead of moving its tongue over the paw, it moved the paw forwards and back. The effect was quite akin to a challenger saying come on. Kakashi nearly blew his top at that.

Oh, just you wait, you stupid feline. You shall become my bitch by the end of this day.

And, as if it had heard that very thought, the cat extended a single claw.

It could have been any one but that one. The gray-haired prodigy knew not how to react. For an animal had just freaking flipped him off.

Scrambling to his feet, he jumped again, this time in frustration. Sidestepping with a natural grace, it moved just enough to let his desperate, clawing fingers to pass through its orange coat. Kakashi's head turned to follow it's motion, eyes keeping up with it's subtle muscle movements. Noticing the twitches it exhibited before changing direction, and memorized them. The next time, it would not be able to escape.

Ignoring his battered body's protests, he stood back up almost immediately. Giving his target a contemptuous stare, he dared it to move. Go on, bitch. The cat did nothing. Gave out a content purr and sat back down to lick itself, clearly not giving a shit about the teenager who was trying so desperately to return it to its owner.

Kakashi nearly started foaming at the mouth. The spiral scar on his chest had begun to throb again. After all, it had only been three freaking days. As he looked at the cat with pure murder in his eyes, he readied himself for a final, premeditated lunge. As he strained his haunches, and jumped, he saw the characteristic twitch that signified a dodge to the left.

With a smile, Kakashi shifted his position in mid-air ever so slightly. And realized that he'd been taken in for a jackass. The cat's form drifted over to the right, and sadistically evaded the grey-haired teen's outstretched fingers. The twitches were random after all. As he braced himself for a soul-shattering impact, he saw it nimbly sidestep Rin's attempt at catching it, and bolt away into the warren of streets beyond. The warren to the west of where they were.

As he lay there, body shuddering with the sudden flood of nerve impulses, he saw what appeared to be the shadow of a laughing woman right around the corner. He shook an imaginary fist at her, simply because he was in too much freaking pain to do so in reality.

Mikoto-sensei, you are the most despicable of them all.

No one was happier to have left the hospital than Goku. He scrambled up walls, leaped and bounded across rooftops, and sprinted until Kushina finally caught him by the scruff of the neck, a dangerous glint in her eye.

Care to do that again, runt? I dare ya'.

Goku gulped. He'd simply wanted to test out the benefits he had received from this recent recovery, but he was surprised as to how much he'd grown from such minor wounds. The time wasn't right for experimentation; there was a cat to be caught. Shaking off the red devil's grasp, he began his search. One alleyway in, he struck gold. There it was, the exact replica of the picture that they'd been given as a comparison. Getting ready, he charged, determined to take the feline down.

"Stop, you retard!"

Kushina's admonition rang out loudly in the narrow space. He paid her no heed. The red devil's insults held no sway over him now. He dove blindly, a smile splitting his face. The cat returned the confident smirk. Not even caring to move this time, it casually evaded Goku's move with no effort at all. For the Saiyan had miscalculated horribly. Flying over the smug tabby's head, he crashed into the stone wall, almost breaking his nose.

Getting up, he furiously rubbed his face to try and stop the pain. That exercise resulted in nothing but him getting his freshly-washed gi ruined with blood. It mattered not; he had three spare ones that Minato had gotten sewn for him, in the same material and colour. What mattered was Kushina's irritating expression as she tried very hard not to burst out laughing at his faceplant.

Meanwhile, the cat simply lay a few feet away, stretching lazily. Somehow that infuriated the Saiyan even more. He took out his tail, prepared to catch it with another appendage in case his next attempt failed. Ignoring Kushina's startled look, he moved with a deceptive slowness, trying to lull it into a sense of security. It shouldn't be this hard; he'd caught slipperier fish without even trying. In a burst of motion, he sprinted toward the cat.

It didn't even care to make eye contact. It simply gazed haughtily into the side alley, not giving a single shit about anything Goku did. As he approached, it lethargically got up, and took a step back. Come get me, its expression seemed to say, almost out loud. Goku reached close enough to lunge at it, and lunge he did, superbly so. His entire body arched, rising smoothly from the running motion into the air, and his torso bent down, hands outstretched. Had Kushina been a swim instructor, she would have probably marvelled at the technique of the dive.

But Kushina was a Jonin, and Goku was shit out of luck. As he neared the nonchalant cat's body, fingers desperate to clutch it's furry tail and hold on, he noticed a movement to the right.

CRACK! Oh, the sound of two noggins hitting each other was always a sweet one. Kushina stared at Goku and Kakashi hit the ground, mouths already deep into the dirt, and couldn't hold back any more. She let out massive guffaws, matched from the perpendicular alleyway by Mikoto's sweet soprano giggles.

These morons are going to need more than a day at this rate.

As she contemplated how they would further embarrass themselves, Rin walked up to the now-lazing-again cat. For a full minute, she just stood there, not moving a muscle. The feline simply licked its paws, expecting the girl to do something. She bent down, and took out a cat treat from her belt pouch. Offering it on her outstretched palm, she smiled her best come hither smile.

She'd actually seen guys and the odd male animal being gravitationally drawn to the power of the smile when Kurenai-chan used it. Oh, she's just pretty in the right light, Rin's petty side threw out forcefully. Meanwhile, the cat seemed entranced. Much to the utter bewilderment of all those watching with widened, unblinking eyes, it drew closer to the treat, eyes focused on the brown-haired girl's face.

It reached the little brown thing in her palm, and went ape-shit crazy. First snatching away the food in its mouth, it slashed at Rin's hand, lacerating the whole thing with is fully-drawn claws. As she winced in pain, it jumped right at her face, taking her down to the ground. After playing around happily with claws awhirl, and leaving behind a criss-cross of red lines over her supposedly pretty face, it hopped off, and strolled away, naught a care in the world.

Kushina and Mikoto's laughter echoed in the narrow back street, as the angry, humiliated children gave the feline three very dirty looks.

How dare you hurt Rin-chan!

How dare you do that to me, after I was so kind to you?

Hmm. Fried or smoked, I guess cat tastes the same.

The blade retracted with a snick.

Underneath, the sliced tissue oozed out blood like a leaky spigot.

The Snake's face had an ethereal glow to it, his translucent, milky skin shining with amusement and pleasure. It was a pleasure like none other, the formidable joy of human experimentation.

Why do you do it? Why must you sacrifice the lives of these numerous people? It was a question oft asked to the great shinobi. He never had an answer for thse bumbling imbeciles. Their minds were not capable to fathom even his most trivial motives. For they never imagined that everything had an opposite; every yin its yang, if you will. Their useless minds refused to believe in the capability of evil, instead clinging desperately to the shining beacon that was, ironically, the Shadow of the Fire.

The general populace never seemed to accept his position in society, dismissing what they could not understand as mythical and/or traitorous. He was the antithesis of everything the Hokage stood for, a counterbalancing force of great power and potential. As his sensei searched for his soul in the hearts and happiness of the people around him, striving to protect every last one, he too chose to find the true meaning of life and wisdom, by gaining knowledge of the strongest and most potent ninjutsu ever created.

For he was the epitome of human evolution. He had gone further and more boldly than any of the other cowardly, spineless researchers of his time and before. In his own way, he had subtly guided the village in a more acceptable direction, one that, in Orochimaru's opinion, did not end with the slow decay, rot, and eventual razing of this worthless piece of land and humanity to the ground. For that he'd looked at one of the best examples he had, one from the other side of the psychological fence.

Senju Hashirama was the one person other who Orochimaru gave a whit's worth to, because of his sheer ability. His unique techniques, the ability to regenerate any part of one's body almost instantaneously, at the cost of a little future lifespan, and the essential power of Mokuton no Jutsu to control the Kyuubi, weren't something to be taken lightly. He had realised that the solution was simple. Using the now-deceased Shodai's remains, and the immense amount of genetic information stored within them, he would bring back the use of the two best abilities that the land of the shinobi had never seen.

Managing to extract the Shodai's cells from the wreckage that was his tomb was nothing short of a miracle. To top that further, by then performing a detailed analysis of the then eighty-year old DNA, followed by actually inserting it into the living ones of some of his test subjects, he'd managed the impossible. After more than a century, he'd finally recreated the regenerative powers that had lived and died with the First.

And now, when he was at the point of another breakthrough, he had been rudely interrupted by the very man who'd taught him to dream, to gaze beyond what one could see, into the murky darkness and discern what lay there.

The very sensei who'd preached the importance of curiosity and the thirst of knowledge was now the obstacle in his path.

Teacher and student confronted each other. The air was heavy, filled with subtext. A dozen soundless conversations extended between the two from the very movements of their eyebrows and eyes.

Very slowly, as if underwater, the Sandaime lifted his arm, grasping the revered pole he had fastened to his back. Enma seemed raring to go, the adamantine staff twirling in the air as Hiruzen prepared himself.

Orochimaru simply smiled. Such brash folly had to be met with punishment. Well-aged he may be, it was no lie to say that the Hokage was in his decline. His once-massive chakra reserves were steadily reducing with time, and he only managed to keep his edge through improving his chakra control and fine-tuning his ninjutsu such that the bare minimum amount of chakra be spent on each technique.

However, in his current condition, Orochimaru weighed out the factors, analysing his chances for victory. Given Hiruzen's current stance and ferocity, it was not sure what may happen if he tried to strike first. So he merely decided to bide his time, and listen to the geezer. But first, there was one other thing he had to take care of.

"You can come out, you cowardly fools," he motioned to the space behind the Sandaime. Very reluctantly, four members of the ANBU emerged from the shadows. Such pointless, redundant creatures, the ANBU. Their very existence is a besmirching of the good name of our village. Whether there is a good name left to besmirch depends heavily on how the next few minutes go.

"What brings the Hokage-sama to my humble abode, I wonder?" Orochimaru broke the silence. He may be the less favoured party here, but there was a chance he might use his sensei's emotion to edge out victorious. After all, out of the Sannin, he'd spent the least time chitchatting around like the other two imbeciles. While Jiraiya indulged in useless tomfoolery, he had been doing quite the detailed study of their Jonin supervisor.

"I think the topic of this discussion is very apparent, Orochimaru," Hiruzen was using first names from the outset. Classic attempt at personalizing the enemy. Get on first-name terms. It builds a sense of familiarity. That was literally the oldest trick in the book.

Considering the possibility of whether this was an obvious bluff, or the less-obvious double bluff, or the subtle triple bluff, Orochimaru decided that names did not matter. Rather, it gave him the advantage. He didn't give a flying damn about his do-gooder sensei. He could see the disappointment and concern in Hiruzen's, though. Using that route to save his skin was impossible, though.

Orochimaru never grovelled. Bargained, demanded, negotiated, but never grovelled.

(He also had issues with referring to himself in the third-person, but I digress)

"But of course, Sarutobi-sensei," he stressed the honorific on purpose. "I think we both know how this conversation is going to proceed, too. So I shall skip the unnecessary waste of time." he saw Hiruzen calm down a little. So he had expected a physical confrontation, Orochimaru mused.

"Debate shall get us nowhere. I shall tell you what I want, and will generously give you one chance at a counter offer." The Hokage was trying to assume authority again. Hiding behind your chair, are you now? Pathetic.

He decided that this was not the time for open rebellion. His experiment being in the stage it was, it would be impossible to shift all his apparatus. It was critical that he perform the extraction of the kid's genes while it was very fresh. Somehow, his DNA degraded faster than most human samples. It was like it had a self-destruct command inserted inside the code, causing it to disintegrate within hours of the cell's death. Since actually apprehending the boy for testing was not feasible for the foreseeable future, he had to remain close to him, and so did his equipment.

His characteristics are so dissimilar to that of the average human being. He is my ideal test subject, one so far distanced from the mean of the bell curve that he could, in all probability, be called a different species.

And, like a lightning flash, it struck him. Hiruzen had begun lecturing him again, but when had he ever cared about that? Pretending to focus using eye gestures and the occasional head movement, he considered the ramifications of this idea. If little Goku-kun was a different species, it would explain everything. The tail, the disorientation, and most importantly, the regeneration.

He now absolutely had to stay here. His experiment now had another directing purpose. With a growing irritation, he waited for the old fool to finish his self-righteous preaching. Sacrificing some of his other experimental processes in order to remain in Konohagakure was fine by him, if it got Hiruzen out of here immediately. As he kept ranting, the pristine samples he had taken were degrading.

Again, the very presence of his teacher was proving to be a hindrance to him. I wish you would just go ahead and die, geezer.

"Weren't we not going to debate?" Orochimaru raised his voice, stopping the Sandaime halfway through his sentence.

"I have an offer. I shall stop pursuing the yellow-haired fledgling you want to name your heir. That matters not to me, in any case." there was a finality to his tone, that said 'this discussion is over' better than mere words.

Hiruzen took the hint. His agenda having been achieved, there was no further reason to stay.

"I wish you would change, but that is mere whimsy," Hiruzen had to have the final say. Another one of his little personality defects.

"Farewell for now, my student." replacing the venerable staff back in its sheath, the Sandaime turned and left. The door hadn't even closed behind him when Orochimaru rushed over to the cold storage. Every minute counted now. DNA analysis for species could be done with DNA which had reached a later stage of degradation than what had to be used for extraction of individual segments. He had a previous sample that would suffice, but it was nearing the stage after which it was rendered useless.

Taking out the petri dish, Orochimaru transferred it to the work table. Adding the arresting solution, he stopped further cell division. Using another set of chemicals, he began the reactions that would give him the DNA in its purest possible form. These usually took time, but Orochimaru began catalysing the reaction with chakra, a very risky process unless performed with great care, but one that granted almost immediate results.

A few seconds later, it was done. Taking the sample over to the analyser, he started the contraption immediately. He was cutting it very close. It was a race against the rapid degradation, a contest with time.

With this hypothesis proved, he could then proceed to further assumptions of his being wrong. One could almost see the gears inside the genius's brain at work, as he compiled a list of alternatives he could try. Inter-species gene transplants never went well in general, but in this case he had been very lucky to have not had an adverse reaction in his previous attempts. Proper protocol had to be followed now.

His eyes shone with unbridled passion. Here he was, expanding the borders of his own knowledge, on the verge of possibly discovering a new, humanoid species, one that was so similar in structure and character to the normal humans around it that it simply fit in. This might be an almost-impossible mutation, one that usually took millions of years to occur.

He waited with bated breath for the reaction to complete. The chakra catalysis had bought some time, but it might not be enough. One random degradation might render the sample useless. Oh the irony; something that was basically the instruction manual for regeneration was itself instructed to reduce to nothing in such a short time. It was like nature itself was protecting its secrets. Not willing to give them up to the one race that could understand them, and make use of them.

Not one any more, it could possibly be two, he mused. The feeling of euphoria was building, one that he hadn't felt in a long while.

The machine stopped whirring. It was done.

Orochimaru didn't need to check for the answer written neatly on the paper in the form of a machine-drawn graph. The time taken was indication enough.

He couldn't hold himself back. Rearing his head back, he let out a hearty laugh.

Goku-kun, you are most intriguing.

Most intriguing indeed.

So many possibilities.

So many avenues this story can take.

My mind calls to me. 'Write!' it exclaims,but I cannot put it down on paper.

I can't help it. I take my laptop, and type out my frustration.

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK, says the silent screen.

I will conclude with one more word.

Cheers.