Thank you to my wonderful reviewers! You are the reason I continue to write fanfiction. I love you all~~
The first thing he noted about her was how small she was. He'd quickly glanced over her file before he'd come out to collect her, but even for a four-year-old she was quite small. Barely past his thigh, in fact. It made her eyes look all the bigger; large, light blue orbs that seemed to take up half her face. It was probably made worse by the fact she was quite thin; not enough to lose her baby fat, thankfully, but still skinny compared to a healthy child.
And she was alone, too. Inwardly, he'd scoffed, because what parent leaves their child- a sickly, malnourished one at that- alone in a place full of strangers? Then again, considering the horrible state of her bland clothes and said malnourishment, it seemed they didn't care much for her one way or the other.
In any case, after a moment of ascertaining the child's parents weren't lingering in an inconspicuous corner, he'd finally accepted that he was too be alone with this tiny, probably incomprehensible, being.
She'd entered his room and he was immediately reminded of an overexcited puppy. A puppy that wagged its tail so hard that its whole body ended up wagging too.
Children. Excitable little things, even over such a small thing as his bland appointment room.
Really, if he wasn't so annoyed at Sarutobi-sensei for ordering him to return to taking appointments like a simple doctor, he'd have appreciated the adorableness far more.
As it was, he sat down in that damn roller chair he'd been exiled to for the last three hours, attending to various snivelling, wretched patients, and let out an inscrutable sigh as he picked up her file.
A heart condition. How boring. It was an unfortunate condition in that there was currently no immediate cure, and treatment had to be administered every week. He would have to be seeing this toddler weekly until he could transfer her to another medic the moment he was certain Sarutobi-sensei was appeased by the time he had donated to this 'good cause'.
Any other medic with a shred of intelligence could provide treatment- but of course, sensei dearest thought him taking on these easy tasks would be good for his 'psychological wellbeing'- as if the damned fool thought he knew more about that than someone who had spent years in the research field of biology and psychology.
Finally he turned back to the child, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he noticed her guiltily withdrawing her hand from where she had been prodding his hybrid jar.
"Ayako-chan, my name is Orochimaru. I am going to be looking into your condition."
It had been quite some time since he'd had to introduce himself. Most people immediately recognised his distinctive features, but clearly not this child. Not that he was terribly surprised considering her age.
She positively beamed at him, her smile so bright it almost hurt to look at. And she nodded with such force he wouldn't have been surprised if her little neck collapsed.
"Kay, Orochimaru-sensei!"
Now wasn't that just adorable. Not only that, a few moments later he had to reign in his laughter as he led her to the bed and watched her struggle to get up. He'd known immediately she wouldn't make it, but rather than help he settled for watching her take a deep breath and lunge upwards. A rather pitiful attempt, not that he was expecting much more considering her stature.
It was hard to remember being that small, having to struggle over something so trivial.
Finally, he took pity on her, and helped her up, but just enough so she still had to work to get the rest of the way.
"Thank chu," the little thing stated with such solemnity he had to laugh, shaking his head.
He could work with this, he supposed. At least this patient was cute, unlike his other ones.
.
.
.
He'd forgotten about her almost the second she had left, having far more important things on his mind. The week had passed in a blur, training with little Anko, being asked questions regarding Tsunade's sudden disappearance (she'd abandoned them, of course. He knew it had been coming for a while, but a small part of him still hurt. Now he was alone, even Jiraiya had chosen orphans over him), researching his latest projects, being asked to take over some of Tsunade's projects since everyone else in this damn village was too incompetent to do so, staving off Danzo and his shady offers, and then he was back to his one 'free' day, which wasn't free of all. It was his day of 'volunteering' his services to the hospital so that he could complete his menial appointments when he could be studying.
(Even though he was getting paid, everyone knew that such a job was beneath him. And really, he scoffed at such a meagre pay check.)
But alas, Sarutobi-sensei still wanted him there.
He was just dismissing his third patient that morning.
"You're a sweet boy, Orochimaru-sensei," the old hag said, and patted his cheek with her wrinkly hand. He resisted the urge to bat it away, instead settling for rolling his eyes the moment her back turned. She was a regular with a horrible respiratory problem, and she didn't have enough money to pay for surgery, so she ended up coming to him weekly.
He could just as easily fix her problem himself and get the old bat out of his life, but then he would have had to take on another patient and that was no better.
Suddenly he was drawn from his musings when he sensed a little presence dashing towards him, and his mouth twitched into an involuntary grin as he looked down.
He had to search a moment for the child's name- the week had been rather hectic after all, but he found it a moment later.
Ayako.
.
.
.
Her attempts to set him up were amusing, of course, but then having her announce in front of Anko and Jiraiya after one of their sessions was… well, embarrassment wasn't something he felt often but there it was.
Still, at least he wasn't the only one. Seeing how bright red the Aiko woman had gone was most amusing, but it didn't really make up for it. Through gritted teeth, he had explained that she was not his girlfriend, before pushing (he was this close to shoving the audacious child) back towards her caretaker.
It was hilariously clear what Ayako wanted when trying to set them up. She was, after all, an orphan who was likely afforded very little affection or attention of any kind from adults especially seeing as she was born during wartime. If he was correct, he was possibly her strongest attachment figure even though he only saw her once a week. Such a sad child.
But amusing.
Quite intelligent, too. She knew he likely didn't give a damn about her, aside from her being his patient. But her need for attention and affection overpowered that. A sad child, indeed.
(He still had the little picture she had drawn him, folded neatly on his nightstand next to his team photo. He would look at it occasionally and chuckle, shaking his head.)
.
.
.
Jiraiya only visited for the day, leaving once more with a vague promise of returning at some point. But Orochimaru could only watch as his second friend turned his back on him.
He knew he wouldn't be returning any time soon, knew it more than Jiraiya himself.
He sneered at the man's back as he disappeared into the distance, returning to the three orphans. Those three were worse than even Ayako; before Jiraiya had come into their life, they were feral children who'd had no one to raise them and they were barely surviving in their war-torn country, relying off the scraps any passer-by's would spare for them.
Orphans. The world had no place for them. Like himself and Ayako, they would have been better off dead than continuing their pathetic existences. But of course any killing, even mercy killing, was not in Jiraiya's ridiculous code of heroism and morality.
Still, they had hope now with Jiraiya. But they would always bear the burden of their past, like he did. Orochimaru's eyes closed as he dredged up the faded memories of his parents.
It had all started with his ambition to see them reborn, just as Sarutobi-sensei had foretold. His life had been spent pursuing immortality for that goal, even though he had long since come to realise it was foolish to believe his parents souls would be reborn. Ridiculous. There was no evidence behind such things, in fact there was an abundance of evidence on the contrary.
But still, the thing about childhood is that what you believe then… never really leaves, no matter how he fully understood that such an eventuality of his parents being naturally rebirthed was most likely impossible. But still, he endeavoured, if only for his own curiosity at this stage. He had long since come to terms with the death of his parents.
But… his future was darkening. He could see it, more than anyone it would seem.
Tsunade and Jiraiya. They didn't see it. Or if they did, they didn't care enough for him to stay. And their sensei was oblivious, turning a blind eye to the point where Danzo's movements were subconsciously ignored even if they were to be thrust right under his nose.
Danzo hadn't issued an order yet, but if he did Orochimaru would have no choice but to obey. Danzo had been indirectly given the power to do what he saw fit in the village, including disposing of Orochimaru for 'non-compliance'. Not that he was horribly against what the man was asking of him, but if word ever got out it would jeopardise his chances at becoming Hokage, and it would also bring him deeper into Danzo's influences which was the last thing he wanted.
Still, despite how much it would interest him to run the tests Danzo had proposed involving the Shodaime's cells and the Mokuton, the tests would taint his reputation tremendously if found out. He had taken a quick glance over the files that had 'anonymously' appeared on his bed (simply out of curiosity, of course, before he'd burned them out of annoyance at Danzo), and he knew that he would require children for such a test. Infants even, for the greatest chance at bearing fruitful results.
Well, he could always try on adults first, of course, but the plasticity of their chakra coils (or lack thereof), along with the high chance that the DNA would be immediately rejected would likely kill them. It wasn't much better with children, but at least there was a higher chance of it working with them.
The tests had an extremely high probability of failing completely, that was certain. But… it would be interesting.
But no. He would not give in to Danzo just yet. Plus, as much as he seemed to lack the moral code that 90% of the Konoha population seemed to run off, the idea of killing children still left a sour taste in his mouth. And if he could become Hokage, he could escape Danzo once and for all.
.
.
.
Not many days after Jiraiya left, Orochimaru was standing before the Hokage, his head held high. Beside him stood Minato, one of Jiraiya's former students, and Danzo.
Next to the Hokage were the council members, watching the proceedings.
At last. Today… was the day that one of his goals could- no, would be accomplished.
There was no reason for Sarutobi-sensei not to choose him. While the boy Minato was famous for his exploits against the Iwa nin, Orochimaru himself was more famous. Not only had he been named a Sannin, he had fought in both wars and been groomed to be Hokage himself by none other than the Sandaime.
Danzo, he knew, was merely a candidate due to formality to appease the village elders, who wanted to see that the Hokage was 'considering' him.
But it was Sarutobi-sensei who had the final say. There was no chance Danzo would be chosen, he was far past his prime and while Sarutobi-sensei let the man handle the necessary darker matters in the village, that would also work against him. This village needed men like Danzo, but he would never walk in the light.
Sarutobi-sensei observed them all with pride, citing the reasons why they were being considered, looking each one in the eye as he did so.
And then, addressing them all, he spoke.
"The village council and I have put much thought into this. We have decided that the next hokage shall be…"
And he felt his shoulders tense. He knew he was the best choice, he had been groomed nearly his whole life for this moment, yet why was he having a moment of-
"Minato Namikaze."
And for a moment, his heart stopped. It didn't make any rational sense why he had been passed over, he was the best candidate and yet…
He glanced to the side, seeing Minato smiling, but past that…
There it was. A shadow of smug satisfaction passed over Danzo's features.
Danzo… Danzo knew Danzo himself would never be chosen. He should have known that the old war hawk would go out of his way to make sure Orochimaru wouldn't get chosen either. He had probably been placing the seeds of doubt in Sarutobi this whole time, if not directly then using the elders to do his bidding, and Sarutobi had trusted them over his own student.
And not only that…
A glance at Minato again. The boy was too young. He didn't have his head in the game yet. Intelligent, certainly, but he had not been groomed in the game of politics. Easy to control, from Danzo's perspective.
And Orochimaru had the sudden urge to laugh. Because of course. Of course he wouldn't get chosen. Things were never that easy with Danzo, and yet he had made the grave mistake of underestimating him, of being so confident in his certainty to win the seat.
And now, Danzo would move in again, and he would have no choice but to accept, now that his one true chance of escaping the man's influence had been ripped from him, just like his trust of his sensei.
His Sensei had spent his whole life building him up to be Hokage, grooming him in politics, only to rip the rug out from under him at the last second.
And he felt such anger in that moment, such frustration that his own sensei would betray him, would fall to the manipulations of others so easily. Perhaps working for Danzo wasn't such a bad idea, at least the man knew what he was doing. He had no reason to stay in the light anymore, not when his dreams had shattered into a million pieces not moments ago.
A dream. That's what this had been. Nothing more than a withered hope.
His entire team… had betrayed him.
.
.
.
The first thing he did, the moment he stepped out of the Hokage Tower, was do away with the peace-keeping duties the former Hokage had given him.
He dropped Tsunade's unfinished projects and even some of his own (despite his interest in them- he could come back to them later) and turned his attention to more important things.
He accepted Danzo's request, even though he was giving the man what he wanted, his curiosity over the Mokuton project was almost overwhelming. Despite the low chance of success, to be able to study the DNA of the Shodaime himself would prove most interesting, and Danzo wouldn't notice if he took a few samples for himself.
Unfortunately, if these tests were found out, he would be a sacrificial lamb. A scapegoat. Danzo had even prepared had a temporary lab built for him that was completely devoid of the workings of ROOT so that blame would land solely upon himself. No matter. He wasn't planning on staying in the village for long.
It was… agreeable in a way. He'd always wanted to have the freedom to do his own studies that the village would consider unethical, and with this secret laboratory he would be able to carry out some of his other curiosities as well. Danzo had even provided some other facilities further afield.
Next, he went to the clinic with a spring in his step and had his patients transferred.
Except… he picked up one pile from the stack he was about to hand over. This one… this one he would keep, for now. Taking no more than an hour off every week to tend to the child would provide an excuse to leave the lab and still be seen around the village 'helping'. It would hopefully alleviate any suspicion that might come onto him too.
He wasn't planning to stay in the village for long, though. In fact, if all went well, once he had satiated his curiosity he would let his Sensei find him. He smirked as he imagined what Sarutobi's face would display. Regret? Fear? Shame? Oh, how he longed to see that moment.
Maybe he'd even keep up a correspondence with Danzo. At least the man had the will to better himself and the village through whatever means necessary. He was certain the man would be more than willing to keep up correspondence even after he defects.
Hm… he also had to deal with little Anko. He could simply keep training her until he went rogue, maybe even take her with him but…
No. He would cut every last tie he had to this village, just like how everyone he cared for in this village had done to him. And one day, he would come back, when he was powerful enough, and he would take revenge on Sarutobi for ever doubting him, and on this village for denying him, for keeping him contained despite worshipping him, for spitting on his dreams despite him doing everything right.
.
.
.
Organising everything had taken two days, and long into the night and the wee hours of morning, and then just as he was finally lying down to sleep when he suddenly remembered he had his little patient to get to.
He almost snarled as he quickly made his way to the clinic. His temper was frayed from having no sleep for the past 48 hours and planning out exactly how he planned to spend his next few weeks in this damned village. And the backup plans, of course.
He arrived at the clinic and closed his eyes for a moment. He'd reapplied his makeup before he came so it hid most of his fatigue, but he would have to keep his temper in check.
He stepped in and immediately caught sight of Ayako, bouncing on her seat, annoying the other patients around her.
He smirked a little. Such a cute little thing. Although he was certain he knew why she seemed so excited, and he would have to compose himself if she were to mention…
He felt his mood darken, but he knew it would come up at some point, even if it was a particularly sore point for him at the moment.
Still, he approached the back of her chair.
"Ayako-chan, chairs are for sitting, not bouncing," he murmured, and seeing her jump and beam at him so happily made his heart pang. How annoying.
He resisted the urge to sigh and beckoned her to follow him, not missing the way she hesitated slightly. She had sensed his bad mood, it would seem.
"I-is the old lady ok?" Her voice piped up from behind him, sounding worried.
For a moment, his mind blanked on what she was talking about. But he wasn't a genius for nothing, and even decoding child babble wasn't beyond his limits.
He made the connection in a moment. Old lady. The only old lady she would likely know in relation to him was the patient that used to come immediately before her. And she had been transferred, meaning when he had entered the building, it had been from the main entrance rather than the hallway to his appointment room. She must have come to the conclusion that she was dead or otherwise hospitalised, since she was a regular.
She was a sharp child, indeed.
He chuckled, but for some reason he didn't find any humour in this the way he normally would. He was vague as he answered her questions.
"Am I… am I gonna be transferred?" she asked after a pitiful moment. How easy it was, to use her emotions against her. Her need for love.
He was silent, watching curiously as the blood drained from her face. Truly, it was pitiful to see how much she depended on him. Such a sad child, indeed, and he almost laughed as she stumbled from the weight of his betrayal, her arms reaching out for support.
He felt a vicious satisfaction, being able to create such a reaction. To have a child, who relied so heavily on him, break from such a simple thing. He was so important to her, yet he had done barely anything for her, except allow her to foster an attachment. How quaint.
But… perhaps he saw himself in her, facing the weight of everyone's betrayal.
Her arms reached out blindly for him a moment before she collapsed, and he bent down and caught her tiny body. So small. So light. So breakable.
He held her there, against his leg, just looking at her young, childish face as her breathing evened out. She was so… fragile. A child that no one spared the time for, because she was just another number. An orphan among many. She had no future, no one to take care of her, to save her from being conscripted to the academy and sent out before she could even develop properly, to be canon fodder.
It was almost a minute later that she regained consciousness, and he watched with amusement as she gaped up at him, her thoughts flashing so obviously across her face as she threw herself away from him, no doubt in fear of his reaction.
He decided to put her out of her misery.
"Calm yourself, child, your case still interests me."
It was a lie, of course. Her case couldn't be any less interesting if she tried.
As he started the session he indulged her like he usually did in small talk. Not something he usually spared anyone else except Anko and his teammates, but his teammates were long since gone.
Her birthday was coming up. He remembered when things like birthdays used to be a big thing when he was younger, even when he was an orphan they'd had enough funding to buy each orphan a small cake on their birthdays. But not so for little Ayako in this time of war, it would seem.
Seeing her so excited despite the lack of celebration was still amusing. How she could be so enthusiastic when it seemed no one would even remember her birthday, except for perhaps her little friend Tenzo she was always babbling about, was beyond him.
But then the moment came when she brought up the inauguration.
"But chu must be happy too! Tomorrow you'll be Hokage!" she cried out happily, her little fingers shaking with excitement. She was probably trying very hard not wriggle so much so as not to disrupt him, which normally would have amused him, but despite his earlier preparations to try and compose himself he felt anger well up inside him and he let the medical jutsu fade from existence as he stared, unseeing at her chest.
Sensei… oh, how he hated what he had done, how he hated being betrayed by his own team. Teams were meant to be like family, but his family were all selfish traitors.
He noticed the form under him quiver, felt the anxiety radiate from the child beneath him, her form so small on the already small patient bed.
He snarled, swiping off the only hint of life in the room- the red vase- off the shelf beside him. It fell to the ground and shattered, marring the ground with dangerous red glass.
That vase was fragile, too, just like the child that shook so adorably in the face of his wrath. And he didn't take his eyes off her as he watched her mewl out apologies between sobs.
She would shatter just as easily as his vase, should he want her to. He could crush her right here, right now. She was tiny, untrained, weak and malnourished.
He closed his eyes and let her little wails wash away his anger. He would have to run damage control if he wanted to restore her trust. It shouldn't be too hard, considering how clearly deprived of any kind of affection she was, physical or otherwise, and the thought made his lips twitch with amusement.
"My apologies, Ayako-chan, that was very rude of me,"
She shook so terribly as he brushed his fingers through her soft, fluffy hair. As soft as a kitten. How precious. He suddenly wondered who her parents had been; certainly, they would be horrified if they saw how neglected their child had become. The village wasn't one to care for the children of the deceased, despite how the Hokage may spin their tales.
He brought her to his chest, cooing into her ear. He held her gently, stroking her back comfortingly. His hand almost covered the span of her entire back.
Apart from Anko, he had never held a child before Ayako, and perhaps it was the dark irony of the action, but he found it rather therapeutic. Perhaps it was also the knowledge that he could control her so easily, could comfort her or break her in his arms if he so wished. But another part of him simply enjoyed the sight of her tiny form huddled to his chest with such reliance, such trust. And her little body stopped shaking after a while, and he soothed her until her breathing evened out and her body began to droop with fatigue after her impromptu sob session.
He wondered what his team would think, if they saw him like this.
He held her longer than he really needed to, and it was only just as he sensed she was going to fall asleep the he placed her little form back on the bed.
.
.
.
Since he would have to be collecting subjects himself, he would start with adults in the unlikely incident that he wouldn't require children. And it would be interesting to compare results on the effects of the DNA insertion into adults versus children if it failed.
So naturally, his first target was Sora. At least he would have the satisfaction of killing some of the scum of the earth while he was at it- the chances of survival were, after all, minimal.
Sora was a good candidate, too. He was a healthy young adult, and a career genin. Career genin weren't exactly missed when they disappeared, since they were easily replaceable in the eyes of the village.
Orochimaru was, of course, meticulous in making sure the man's disappearance didn't leave any clues pointing towards him. But he didn't bother leading false trails; let the village come to a conclusion on its own. He would be ready by the time they figured it out.
He chose a few more adult victims; a civilian woman that he remembered spreading rumours about Sakumo Hatake, someone he had once admired (he still had that little prodigy brat running around somewhere, didn't he? No doubt he was being groomed as Hokage under Minato's guiding hand, just like Sarutobi once had to him); A man that Tsunade had complained had been involved in foul play; another career genin that used to bully his little Anko despite being years older than her when they had briefly attended the orphanage together.
Over a few days after collecting his subjects, some fifty or so that he managed to gather, he began his testing.
It was quite thrilling, to be able to conduct his experimentation without the usual limits of morality that the village set against him. But Danzo could clearly see that the benefits outweighed the cons; the amount of progress that was possible when morals were set aside was truly enormous.
But alas, not twenty-four hours after injecting the DNA, all of his subjects were dead. The sample size was too small to really say for certain if it would never work on an adult, but time was of the essence now that the village was aware of the disappearances. It would be better to start on the children as soon as possible.
Fortunately for him, Danzo was willing to lend a few of the children he had 'spare' that had been born into the ROOT program and therefore weren't on village record.
It was almost a mercy, killing these children off before Danzo would begin his brutal brainwashing. No doubt he'd had them bred into his little legion of mindless drones.
He was supplied with thirty ROOT children, ranging from the ages of zero to five. Most of them he could easily tell why they had been offered up; some of them had defects, or low chakra reserves, or simply frail statures. It wouldn't be as much a waste to lose them since they would likely grow up to be below par as ROOT agents.
He would still need more, though, to prove the most accurate results, but he set his limits at another thirty. Children, aside from orphans, were highly protected in the village (such hypocrisy, truly) so snatching up a few stray orphans was his best bet, and he wouldn't have any enraged parents to force along an inquiry either, lending him more time. He would stagger the disappearances and make sure he was random and unpredictable in his kidnapping.
On top of that, as his planned defection grew nearer, he would have to absolve his ties with Anko.
He had one of his labs that Danzo had cleared for him as a reward for his work, albeit outside Konoha, that he would take his little Anko to on a 'training trip'. He still needed to test out the curse mark he had created. Not for a week or two after the Mokuton project was over, though. If he left suddenly, just after the disappearances stop, he would be an immediate suspect and he couldn't have that. Not yet.
.
.
.
Ayako was so terribly nervous. Her age had never been so blindingly apparent, not with the way she was sucking on her knuckles as he approached, no doubt a comfort mechanism she had learned to rely on since no one would offer her the comfort she required.
It was no surprise she was anxious, considering how they had parted last session. Having to face him all alone after how she had treated her despite the comfort he had offered her after. Poor child.
He was gentle as he greeted her, and it was so adorable, the way she looked up at him with such wide, hopeful eyes, lowering her hand from her face. He briefly wondered how much she had thought about him the past week, worrying about this encounter.
She was silent as he lead her into the appointment room and began the session. It was odd, seeing her so silent, seeing her body so still compared to normal. It would look natural, on anyone else, the absence of restlessness and boundless, untamed energy that normally thrummed beneath the surface of her every action, but not on her.
And he didn't like it. Despite it being counterproductive to his medical jutsu, watching her little body so uncontrolled amused him to no end.
So, he spoke first.
"Will you forgive me for last week, Ayako-chan?"
For a moment, there was silence, and he could read the confusion straight from her features. It was unlikely she had ever been asked forgiveness before, being a mere child; people tend to think that it is below them to apologise to children, orphans especially. No doubt she had learnt that forgiveness was something not easy to get, even when the fault really had nothing to do with her.
And he watched, smothering a grin as he saw the realisation that he was taking the blame for his actions, and that he was willing to pander to her need for affection, come over her. Not that she thought of it like that, of course.
"Yea! I'm not angry! Or, or mad at all! It's twue!" she cried with such sheer joy, it was truly music to his ears. He could count on one hand how many times people had spoken to him with such a tone.
And her happiness clearly overcame her, and he watched as her body all but exploded into action, writhing beneath his hands almost like she was in pain. But her face told the opposite story.
It was fascinating, really. Sometimes he wondered if she had motor control problems. But he couldn't help the way his lips quirked at the edges. In any time of peace, she surely would have been adopted, for this trait of hers was truly endearing. It would be interesting to see if that trait would continue into adulthood.
And she was so childishly quick to forgive, after he asked how her week was she was back to babbling almost immediately.
And when she mentioned Sora's disappearance, and whispered her 'secret' that she was glad he was gone, he couldn't stop the triumphant grin that twisted his features.
"But chu should be careful. There are ninja disappearing, too," she told him after, her expression so grave he couldn't help but laugh. Truly, she was adorable, to care for him. To worry about him. He wondered if she had an inkling to the truth; after all, beneath everything she was an intelligent child though you wouldn't know it at first glance.
But if she did, it was locked away deep in her mind, behind the wall of her subconscious. Perhaps a defence mechanism, even; after all, was it not better to please a potential predator and not draw attention to one's self than show signs of fear and suspicion? Especially since she needed him for emotional stability.
"I think I will be alright. Don't you have faith in me, little one?"
The nickname slipped out before he realised it. The response made up for it; she jerked and trembled beneath him with pure happiness as it registered, beaming at him.
And she hurried to assure him of her faith in his skills, and as they left later he watched her almost gather up the courage to take his hand, but withdrew a moment before she did. She thought she was subtle, but her longing was so glaringly obvious whenever he walked her down the hallway, to find her staring at his hand with such pure longing.
Well, it was certainly closer than she had ever gotten before. So cute. Perhaps next week, she would manage it.
.
.
.
There was a child he took, a boy with brown hair that was hurrying back towards the orphanage Ayako was from. He had wide dark brown eyes and in his hand, he had what appeared to be a small wrapped gift.
It was as he was climbing the outer wall that Orochimaru struck. It was easy, to catch his prey, wrapping his hand around the boy's mouth to muffled his cries, and pull him away from the wall.
"Sh," he cooed, patting the struggling child on his head even as a snake constricted around his throat. "You know it's dangerous to be out alone, don't you, especially with all these disappearances…"
Honestly, as adorable as it was to taste the child's fear and watch him struggle, he couldn't help the grimace that crossed his features. The boy fell limp in his arms, and he tossed him over his shoulder.
The fun was taken out of it with the knowledge that this innocent, helpless child- and the many others- would die by his hands.
But if he truly wanted to reach immortality, he needed to get over his moral dilemmas. The reason research in most fields was so stagnant was because no one was willing to sacrifice the lives required for the better good.
But not him. He would not allow his genius to be restricted, not even if it meant killing children.
.
.
.
It was, in fact, in the middle of injecting a child with the Shodaime's DNA that the clone he had tasked with training Anko dispelled.
And the memories flooded back. Someone from the hospital had interrupted their training to inform him that Ayako was in the hospital, and that his experience with her condition would be most helpful in the operation, if he wanted to spare the time to help.
She'd suffered cardiac arrest.
His response was instant. He'd lunged away immediately without a word to either of them so that he could privately dispel, since the clone was simply a diversion to carry out his daily tasks so that suspicion would not fall upon him too early.
With a curse, the real Orochimaru dropped the test subject in his arms without a second thought- the child was already dead by the time he was out the door, its little body ripped apart by branches- and he shunshin'd to the hospital.
She was being resuscitated when he found her, ready to be wheeled into one of the emergency theatres.
Within seconds, he had his latex gloves, surgical mask and cap on. The others in the room recognised him immediately and despite the fact he wasn't on duty and hadn't signed in, there were no complaints as he immediately took control of the operation.
The resuscitation appeared to work, but he knew it wouldn't last long. The reason her heart was failing was because her chakra pathways had worn away, spilling chakra into her chest cavity.
He barked out orders, and the team began pushing the bed towards theatre 1, preparing her as they went.
She looked so small, lying on those white sheets that seemed to drown her form. And as they were hurrying towards the theatre, she stirred. Her eyes opened, those large blue eyes, only to be immediately overwhelmed by the sound and commotion around her. Understandably, of course, waking up to such a situation caused the poor thing to become distressed. Surrounded by strangers in masks, confined to a bed, being rushed to who knows where.
She started to wail, but the sound was drowned out by the commotion. And there was an odd twinge in his chest as he noticed how helpless she was. Even if she cried out for help, who would come? Who would help this defenceless orphan?
He placed his hand on her head and watched her tilt her head back and settle her teary eyes on him. The effect was almost immediate. She recognised him, and suddenly she was quiet and calm, staring up at him with such trustand… and suddenly he recognised the pure, naïve, innocent love.
It was so blindingly obvious now, the true extent of her feelings. Somewhere, he'd always known he'd been encouraging her attachment, mostly for curiosity's sake. But now, he wished he hadn't.
How strange it was… one glance at him in such a stressful situation, and suddenly it seemed like she didn't have a care in the world. The kind of blind, unconditional trust that could only ever truly be fostered between a parent and their child, or perhaps the most intimate of partners or friends. He had seen it before; he remembered being introduced to little Kakashi over Sakumo's shoulder and had seen the way the two looked at each other.
He never thought he would be on the receiving end of such… love, but she had given it to him. It was not something he thought would affect him, even should he be privy to such adoring eyes.
His throat suddenly tightened, to the point where even breathing was difficult. And it was only a heartbeat that she looked at him, before he couldn't take it.
A flick of his finger was all it took to put her under a genjutsu, inducing a deep sleep until the operation could be fulfilled.
.
.
.
He found that having his hands deep in the child's chest was also not entirely pleasant, but he wouldn't trust any of the other incompetents around him to perform the most vital task of this operation; correctly re-establishing the chakra networks around her heart and having a stabilising chakra unit formed around the main spillage. And he had to have the chakra in her chest carefully suctioned out before he could even begin on healing the damage to her heart.
That, unfortunately, was when she flatlined, and he felt a moment of hysteria that he had never felt in his life, and suddenly he understood with startling clarity exactly what Tsunade had felt when trying to save Dan.
That had been a failure, but this would not.
He'd had to improvise, ordering one of the others to step in and keep building the stabilisers while he analysed a solution in his head. It was extremely risky, and he had never heard of it being done before, but if he didn't try something she'd be dead within the next minute.
He, within mere seconds, created a chakra scalpel and cut her heart out. With no heart pumping, there was little blood leaking from the veins and arteries he'd just severed. He passed the heart to an assistant, but ordered her to keep it within viewing range.
"Sir-!" one of the senior surgeons looked alarmed. After all, they were probably clueless as to his motives.
"Shut up!" he snarled. If he wanted this to work, he needed all his focus set on the task at hand.
The other surgeons watched, ashen faced, as he began to work. He had no time to take measurements, so he would have to work from the visual he had of her little heart.
He was, in effect, creating a chakra heart. Chakra was a highly flexible substance; it defied all known laws of nature. If people could create chakra scalpels, could they not create a chakra heart?
The problem, of course, was not the construct itself; it was whether he could keep the heart beating. It was a spontaneous experiment, that had never been tested before, and yet if he didn't… well, suffice to say he was going to try.
Not only did he have to create a stable heart out of pure chakra, with a lining of earth chakra that would keep it solid, he needed some way to keep it beating. And the only way he could think of was a seal.
He hissed in annoyance to himself. If he had Jiraiya and Tsunade here, this would have a far higher success rate. Tsunade would know exactly how to condition the heart, and Jiraiya would be able to create the seal. But with his own knowledge, he conceded that perhaps… perhaps it was better that it was himself, since he could combine both medical and fuuinjutsu knowledge to make sure the seal would be effective, for Jiraiya could get the timing incorrect.
He cut his finger, his mind working furiously to go over the correct formula for a seal that would work. Only seal masters could make seals on the fly, but if he wanted this to work he would become that master.
Using his own blood, he began to draw out the seal on the heart. Fuuinjutsu was a strange art, it didn't work with logic, in fact it seemed to draw upon the will of the specialist. Eight strokes of his finger, and he had what appeared to be two asterisks; one below the other. Each line corresponding to ten strokes per minute. He'd worked with her heart enough to know her heartrate.
The kanji for 'Beat' came next, directly under the aorta. A tri-prong of commas for stabilisation.
And…
He hesitated. He was missing something. He had approximately twenty seconds.
He needed something to represent change, growth, life, something that would ensure her heart would still grow and change with her body, so that in ten years her heart will still be working for her body.
With a jolt, an answer came to him.
Reliance. Dependence.
Reliance on the nervous system. Dependence on the mind, the neurons and hormones that needed to communicate. Growth was a biproduct.
Ten seconds. How would he communicate those two words in such a tight space?
There was almost absolute silence in the room, apart from the thrum of machinery.
They probably didn't understand why he was simply hovering over her makeshift heart, unmoving, when the seconds were clearly ticking away to her death, but they certainly trusted him if they-
Trust.
Trust was all encompassing. Fuuinjutsu, as he had said, was strange. Everyone that dabbled in the art of fuuinjutsu knew that each mind, each connection worked differently. Its why explosive seals had to be made by specialists and bought instead of everyone simply copying down the seals and making their own.
The chakra heart had to trust the child's body. Simply writing the kanji for 'trust' was not enough to cover the grounds required.
With that knowledge in mind, with the full clarification and justification of what he intended to convey, he drew an eye. Or, something resembling one, right below the kanji for 'beat'.
.
.
.
It took hours. 7 hours, to be exact, to carry out such a delicate process.
The seal… worked. Well, they wouldn't fully know until a few months if not years, but she was stable when they sewed her back closed.
The surgeons were oddly quiet as they finished up. It didn't take long to find out why.
Almost the moment he left the debriefing, word of his accomplishment spread.
It was, he realised, enough to make him a legend in the field of medicine and seals, for not only creating a fully functioning heart out of chakra alone in less than 40 seconds but also creating a seal that combined a thorough knowledge of human biology and seal mastery. On the spot.
However, he felt nothing but fatigue as he showered and changed clothes back in the privacy of his small apartment. The last thing he wanted right now was more attention, and as amusing as it was to walk past a nurse only for her to faint on sight at him, he truly did not want to deal with Sarutobi.
But alas, as if the fates had descended to punish him, he felt his former sensei's chakra appear in his kitchen/dining room.
It was almost 11pm. Truly, all he wanted was to sleep. In petty frustration, he spent an extra twenty minutes even though he knew that Sarutobi knew that he knew that he was here.
Or because of it.
When he finally stepped out, his sensei- former sensei, didn't even have the grace to react with anything other than an indulgent smile.
"Word travels fast," he began, and Orochimaru resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Straight to the point, as usual. "I heard that you stepped out of an operation only two hours ago, having performed two feats never before seen in history- and succeeded."
"Thank you, Sarutobi-sensei, for stating the obvious," he all but spat. The last thing he wanted right now was to be waylaid from a long sleep.
The man had the audacity to frown. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised; the last thing his sensei would expect from his once prized student was him turning down an opportunity to gloat.
"Are you alright, Orochimaru?" he asked, and his tone was soft.
Well, it appeared that the man still knew how to baby him after all these years, after betraying him. How dare he put on such a caring façade. Oh, he would see the light soon…
"How touching. My dearest sensei finally decides to show his face after letting me down. Just so he can talk politics on my newfound status."
He sees a flash of guilt, a clear admission as any, pass over Sarutobi's features.
But, to his credit, instead of making a case the man just sighed and took a long puff.
"I am sorry," he murmurs, looking Orochimaru in the eyes. The man is shameless, but that's to be expected. Despite how Orochimaru hates to admit it, the man is- was a good hokage. Great, even. "And I know it is something that you will never forgive me for. I ask only that I may still have the pleasure of congratulating my student when he reaches new, untold heights."
And Orochimaru felt himself wavering. He hated it. Hated that this man had made a place for himself if not in his heart than in his memories, and that would never change. The passage of youth was the most vulnerable time to fall prey to bonds, and that was why this mattered so much.
Why his betrayal hurt more than it had any right to in his rational mind.
He should have been congratulating him for something else entirely. Should have been paying him the respect of a kage.
(But it's still possible, isn't it? No sane mind would consider it, building a village on your own that is, but people never exactly called him sane.)
"Well, consider me congratulated. Now, if you wouldn't mind…" he gestured for the door, staring the other man down.
After another long drag, the man ambled for the door.
But he stopped, just before he exited.
"You must care for her, that child… feats like the one you just accomplished don't happen for just anybody. I am proud of you, Orochimaru."
And the door clicked shut behind him just in time for a glass from his kitchen bench to shatter against it. Orochimaru wanted to scream his anger, because this was all wrong.
But no. He had to compose himself. Even if it was his own former sensei, his loss of control was not only unsightly, it was suspicious.
Still, it was too late now. Seething, he went to bed.
He would finish his tests tomorrow. Then he would take Anko and things would begin to unravel, for his village that is.
.
.
.
There was a survivor. A child, no younger than three but no older than five, that had survived longer than the previous record of ten hours. It was thrilling. Danzo himself had come to see the fruits of his success.
It was still possible that rejection could occur, thus the boy would have to be monitored for the next few days. He'd be kept in the test tube.
The possibilities were enormous. But out of a sample of sixty, unless they could source children from outside Konoha, or drain ROOT of its future agents, it was too dangerous to keep taking children. So for now, Danzo would have to make do with this one child.
The sample was too small to conclude the mortality rate; it was possible that this child was a descendent of the Senju and that it was pure coincidence that he had survived.
In any case, Orochimaru had asked Anko to pack and he would be leaving that afternoon. Basking in satisfaction at having even just one successful trial lasted long enough for him to make his final arrangements before his mind drifted to Ayako.
He still had a couple of hours to spare. He could use it to finish his report for Danzo about the experiment, however…
He could do that later. Instead, he picked up a book (32nd edition of the burgeoning field of epigenetics) and shunshin'd to the hospital.
He asked at reception for her room, and the man at the desk was looking at him with wide eyes, full of awe as he pointed him in the right direction. His mouth was hanging open, and working as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't get the words out.
He was almost tempted to ask 'cat got your tongue?' to the gaping idiot, but refrained and twisted his mouth into what he hoped resembled a polite smile when the man finally got the words out.
"R-room 4-a," the man stuttered, his face blooming a deep red.
Really, people are so melodramatic.
He walked away only to hear the man let out a dreamy sigh when he thought he was out of earshot.
Pathetic.
Entering the room and seeing the child unconscious, he checked over the clipboard at the end of the room and read the notes the nurses had left.
She'd be in for a few days. No doubt she'd be restless. It was unlikely she would have any visitors too.
He approached the side of her bed and lifted the gown she was wearing to check on her wounds. It would scar, unless she had the means to pay for a specialist in scar tissue removal, but that was unlikely to happen.
With a soft snort he pulled her gown back down and rearranged her sheets. There were no flowers on the stand, nothing to identify a passing of a visitor. Truly a lonely child. It was abhorrent, for she was certainly not the only orphan neglected like this, and really it was no wonder Danzo found it so easy to 'recruit' members without anyone batting an eyelash. It was so easy to take advantage of these children; it was a gaping blind spot in the so called 'Nice Village'. But of course, such is the way of nature; in most cases a child of any species will be left to fend for itself unless its direct sources of genetics are still alive to care for it.
He sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chair by her bedside and folded one leg over the other to get comfortable, and he began to read. The only sounds were the beeping monitor and the child's even breathing.
Two hours later, he was roused from his reading when he noticed her stir.
Despite glancing about the room, she didn't even process his presence. Probably due to a combination of her drugs still dulling her thought processes, and a subconscious expectation that she would have no visitors.
And then, clearly thinking she was alone, she let out a several heart-wrenching little cries, like a mewling kitten.
"I warned you not to stress yourself," he drawled, by way of announcing his presence. He heard her head whip around, and he finally looked up from his book.
She sent him a smile, magnitudes weaker than her normal exuberance. It wasn't odd, considering the circumstances, but still.
There was a flash of joy, certainly, but it melted away just as quickly. He resisted the urge to frown.
He gave her a quick summary of why she had been admitted.
"It's lucky you were found soon after, otherwise you would be dead," he added on. It certainly was lucky. She could have just as easily been ignored or forgotten in the orphanage.
"Dead…" she echoed, and he watched with mild curiosity as the tears welled in her eyes. He did have a hypothesis as to why she had been impacted so badly, but he wanted to know for certain.
He closed his book, stood up and settled beside her on the bed. He took her chin between his fingers and tilted her head up, forcing her to look at him.
"Child, what's wrong?" he asked, not quite gently but not harshly either.
Her next words confirmed it.
"My fwiend… my only fwiend… he dis- dis-disappeared."
It was most unfortunate. He had taken few children from her orphanage, and the chance that one of them had been her friend were low. But apparently, luck hadn't been on his side.
Curiously, it was one of the boys from her orphanage that had survived. Perhaps…? It would be a most intriguing coincidence.
But then… the boy had been carrying a gift, had he not? And was it not Ayako's birthday yesterday?
Not that it mattered.
He stroked her cheek, watching as she leaned into his touch, watched her stiff body relax slightly with that simple gesture.
But cruelly, he pulled away and stood up to leave. He could sense her desperation, her need for comfort, but this time it didn't feel satisfying to inspire such an emotion in her.
Still, he turned away, almost knowing that she was reaching for him. But he wasn't turning back. After a few clipped words, he walked away, keeping his gaze ahead.
He left her alone.
.
.
.
Betraying little Anko was… not as difficult as he expected. Not with his resentment at the village clouding his mind. Not with his drive to sever all bonds in that village, so that he could move forward, move ahead just like his team had left him behind.
But more interestingly, she survived. And he remembered visiting her in that windowless room he had locked her in. Amachi, one of his researchers, was there too, discussing the results and looking down at her broken form.
She had, against all expectation, lived. He had a hypothesis. The curse seal involved a certain amount of fuuinjutsu, and it was possible that some of his… emotion for her had leaked into the seal when he marked her, causing the seal to adapt to her. A far-fetched idea, but it was more likely than any other cause he could think of.
He had wanted her to live, despite not expecting her to.
In any case, he was… uncertain what to do. He could kill her anyway, but he found himself leaning down, looking into those large, childish eyes that were once almost as trusting as Ayako's, still were, even; and asked if she wanted to come with him.
Because perhaps, if she was willing to betray her village, he could make room for her in his plans. But… no. She turned him away, and yet he could have killed her but he didn't.
Curiosity, he told himself. It would be interesting to see how the seal would affect her, even if he knew it was highly unlikely she would ever tap into that power.
In any case, he would have her memory altered. It was a moment of weakness, asking if she would accompany him, and the last thing he wanted was for her to question him or seek him out.
Let her hate him. He had broken her, and he knew their bond would never be restored now.
Now… there was only one child left to deal with.