Snow transitioned to rain after the air warmed. The water slicked his hair against his face and the back of his neck. Orochimaru shivered. He found it irritating, but that was a simple, satisfying reminder that he was still alive.
The past nearly five years had been an absolute trial to overcome. After his nomination for Hokage had been denied in favor for Fugaku, he knew that the time that he had left to complete his experiments before abandoning the lab. Danzo had a hideout somewhere and had promised to give him the information but only after the job was completed. However, when the door to his laboratory had been blown open and infiltrated by the Konoha Military Police and a squad of ANBU Black Ops, there had been nothing he could do.
Fugaku had come personally to see to his capture and in that moment, Orochimaru had realized how the Uchiha had been able to catch him off guard. He remembered distinctly after he had accepted the nomination that the Uchiha's eyes had flashed red. It wasn't the pattern of the Sharingan that the Sannin had seen before and he had been locked, if only for a millisecond, in a trance that fell away.
He'd read my mind. It was a scary realization, but Orochimaru had found some silver lining in Danzo not revealing any information about the precise connections he made outside of Konoha or where he was meant to meet them.
His imprisonment, his survival, his escape—none of that would have been possible had he known anything more than Danzo's corruption.
Even still, it had been a close call. The contacts outside of Hi no Kuni set up an elaborate ruse to draw the bigger threats away from the village and stoke the flames of war so that they could continue to operate in secret. False Konoha emissaries had gone to Kumogakure to provoke the Raikage into renewed and open hostilities with Konoha while other agents were sent to assassinate the Fire Daimyō.
Kakuzu and Ao arriving to free him from his prison had been a surprise, but a welcome one. The taciturn duo were professional and eliminated resistance without much issue. The problem only came when their personal interests conflicted with his desire to be outside of the walls as quickly as possible.
Kakuzu had only taken the job in order to attempt to both collect the bounty on Minato Namikaze and capture the Kyūbi's jinchuriki in one fell swoop. Ao wanted to redeem the honor from his previous failure to deliver the Hyūga girl to Kumogakure. Orochimaru didn't know which of those endeavors had been the bigger fool's errand, but he had then decided to create an assurance. He kidnapped Fugaku's youngest boy, Sasuke, in an attempt to dissuade any pursuit or reprisal for his escape. He didn't know if it was pure luck or boldness, but Itachi had been part of the retinue sent to transport the daimyō to Konoha.
And whatever attack the agents had planned had obviously failed. Though the boy had been injured and weaker than Orochimaru had thought he would be, he still put up a hard fight. If it had not been for the last round of experimentation that the Sannin had done on his body, the last jutsu Itachi had performed would've killed him.
He'd left his old skin to be disintegrated by those odd black flames while he made his getaway. The way that Itachi's chakra levels had fallen, it was almost a guarantee that the boy died.
All the better. He didn't need anyone tracking him down.
The rendezvous point was ahead near the lake that served as a depository for the overabundance of rain water. Amegakure was obscured by a foggy sheet of rain in the distance. Dark clouds hung over it, casting a shadow on the water. Black and blue waves crashed against the shore as Orochimaru walked towards the pier. Fishermen were pulling their nets in, straining against the weight of their catch.
They ignored the pale man walking among them, even as he passed by and headed to the end of the pier. He waited for a few moments until he felt the presence of someone behind him. He didn't recognize the chakra signature or the voice when the woman spoke.
"It never stops raining here," she said. She was tall, lithe, and had long brown hair that reached the middle of her back.
"I'm familiar," Orochimaru replied. The last time he had been in the country, it had been ravaged by the Second Shinobi World War. Jiraiya had taken to caring for a group of orphans while he had wanted to end their suffering.
"What brings you to such a forlorn place?" The woman's eyes traced an outline over him, almost mechanically. But, something clicked in his head. He recognized the question from a letter that his young spy Kabuto had given him.
"To see the red clouds of dawn in the rain," he said. The woman paused. Then smiled.
"So you've finally made it, Orochimaru," she said, but a male's voice came from her this time.
The Sannin narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
The woman's body creaked. It sounded more wooden than metal. It was only now that he noticed the thin blue chakra strings holding her upright and together. A puppet? He had the sneaky suspicion he'd only been able to see them because the puppeteer had wanted him to.
"Your escort," the puppet said. It produced a device from its chest Orochimaru recognized as a rebreather. Hanzō the Salamander wore one when he and the other Sannin had fought him and earned their title.
Orochimaru took it and let it rest in his mouth. The puppet woman took his hand. Then sprouted a glider from their back.
He didn't know if the men on the shore saw them leave or heard them dive into the water. The journey was a quick one. Chakra burst from the puppet's glider and propelled them through the water. Orochimaru felt the pressure change as they passed through a barrier and emerged on the other side. The puppet carried him out of the water, lifting high into the air past the oblong building dotting the skyline. The rain was just as intense within the border as it was outside.
Again, it was irritating. But, it reminded him that he was alive.
The puppet gently dropped him at the mouth of a hollow carved out of the side of a building. A young man with short, ruby-colored hair waited for him. He wore the same cloak that Kakuzu had shown up in—black with blood red clouds adorned on it—and Orochimaru took note of his painted nails and the ring he wore on his left thumb.
"Took you long enough to show," the man said. "Kakuzu and Ao?"
Orochimaru stepped out of the rain and slicked his hair back. "They didn't make it."
Surprise briefly flashed across the red-haired man's face before being replaced by dispassion. "I hope your worth matches your reputation." The puppet master led Orochimaru into the building and the pitter-patter of rain faded as the darkness engulfed them. It was replaced by their footsteps echoing in the confined space.
The Sannin heard the faint sound of voices conversing as they drew deeper into the building. A faint light glowed at the end of the tunnel. It emptied out into a large chasm where a statue stood in the middle casting a shadow over several figures gathered in the room.
Eyes turned toward the two men as they stepped to the edge, eerie gazes that Orochimaru measured. The room seemed to be sizing him up with their quick glances and the Sannin did the same. He determined quickly that everyone here was at the very least comparable to him at his full strength, even the puppeteer that escorted him in. It made him feel both uneasy.
And motivated.
"I expected there to be a party of four," one man said. A sword wrapped in bandages rested on his back and when he grinned, Orochimaru noted his triangular teeth.
Like a shark. He'd heard stories of shinobi like him and quickly surmised that this man was affiliated, if not one of, the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. He radiated power and his animal-like eyes had a malicious intent behind them that Orochimaru had only seen reflected in his own.
"The others didn't make it," the puppeteer said.
"Well, that's a damn shame," the shark-man said. Though he was still grinning, there was genuine sadness in his voice. "He didn't get his big payday after all."
"And we lost two members of our organization," a blue-haired woman said from the top of the statue. Another person walked next to her and his voice caused everyone to turn their attention upward.
"We mourn those that have given their lives." A man stepped forward. He had orange hair and a face marked by thick, black rods piercing his flesh. But, that wasn't the thing that Orochimaru found the most fascinating about him.
It was his eyes, rich lavender filled with black rings. They were mesmerizing. And of everyone here, only this man's presence filled the Sannin with any amount of apprehension or reverence.
This is who Danzo had been investigating and speaking with. The secret he'd guarded until his last breath, Orochimaru thought.
He was magnificent.
"But, our organization will grow. Just as we have recruited one of Konoha's legendary Sannin, Orochimaru, to our cause, we will do the same with others. But, the events of the last few days have shown us that we must exercise patience. We will take our time acquiring the power to teach the world the lesson we all know far too well." His enchanting eyes looked over to where Orochimaru stood and stayed on him. "The night will end. Dawn will come. And when the eyes of the Nations look upon the sun, they will not know its warmth, but it's searing heat. The world will know our story. The world will know pain."