Orochimaru's manic grin stretched wider, threatening to split his face clean in half. But it wasn't a victorious smile. It was the expression of a chess player watching his opponent make an interesting move. Half-suspicious, half-indulgent, like he was saying I know you're planning something, but I'll let you play your hand anyway because I'm curious.
Understandable, I thought. Aside from the baseline paranoia all shinobi carried like a second nervous system, I wouldn't trust someone who agreed this quickly either. Especially not in a situation as delicate as this.
Orochimaru nodded slowly, his voice dripping with false warmth. "I knew you were a reasonable man, Eishin-kun. Pragmatic. Forward-thinking. Together, we can accomplish remarkable things. With your knowledge of Senjutsu, we can—"
I raised a hand, cutting him off mid-monologue. "Hold on there, professor."
Orochimaru tilted his head, amusement flickering in his yellow eyes. "Oh? Do you have something to add to our agreement?"
"Yeah. A small detail." I tapped the scroll against my palm. "There's no 'we' here. No 'together.' You have something I want. I have something you want. That's it. This is a transaction, not a partnership. Let's not confuse business with friendship."
Orochimaru placed a hand over his heart, feigning injury. "How cold of you, Eishin-kun. To reduce such a monumental collaboration to mere barter?" He then let out a soft, rasping chuckle. "But I suppose clarity is refreshing in its own way. Very well. The strongest collaborations often begin with fair transactions. Trust can be built later."
"Or not," I muttered. "Better not."
Orochimaru's smile didn't falter. "Since I have already shown you my contribution, I believe it is only fair that you demonstrate yours. A gesture of good faith, as it were."
I scoffed. "You call that half-assed jargon scroll a demonstration of sincerity? That was practically an insult. If I gave you half a sandwich and told you the rest was in my stomach, would you call that lunch?"
Orochimaru didn't say anything at that, and just looked at me with that creepy, serene smile, unblinking. The silence stretched comfortably for him and agonizingly for anyone who wasn't a creep.
I felt awkwardness creep up my spine. Eventually, I coughed into my fist. "Alright, fine. I'll show you. But we need to change location. Can't summon another contract while standing in the home of a different one. Summons are pricks about territory, and Ryūchi Cave isn't exactly neutral ground. "
Trying to call another summon here was like pissing on someone's carpet while they were watching.
Orochimaru's eyes lit up with genuine interest, almost childlike in its intensity. "Ah, you intend to summon that owl contract of yours. The one that channels natural energy into human contractors in exchange for years of their lifespan. Fascinating and rather pleasant choice."
"Good to know you're well informed," I hummed, squinting at him. "Saves me the trouble of explaining."
"Oh, my information network is quite thorough, Eishin-kun," Orochimaru smirked. "A resource you could stand to benefit from once we... regularize our working relationship. But I understand. Some prefer to take the scenic route to inevitable conclusions."
I mused inwardly, watching him preen. He was getting comfortable. Too comfortable. Does he think I won't rat him out to the higher-ups? Or does he just not care? Either possibility was concerning. Orochimaru operated on a different level of risk calculation. Betrayal, surveillance, and political fallout were just variables in a larger equation.
"Though it does make me wonder," The snake Sannin continued, voice dripping with amusement, "about the transactional nature of your owl summons. And your insistence on framing our arrangement the same way. Are you so influenced by them? Or is this simply who you are? Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm merely trying to understand a potential future partner."
This time, I was the one to stare in silence, letting the question hang unanswered.
Eventually, he waved a hand dismissively. "No matter. Go ahead and summon here. We're outside the cave proper, and I have... understandings... with the White Snake Sage. You have nothing to worry about." His smile sharpened, gaining an edge. "As long as you don't do anything... regrettable that is."
I hummed noncommittally at the threat.
There were two main paths to acquiring a summoning contract, at least from my experience.
First was the Wild Path. Or, as I liked to call it, the "Fuck Around and Find Out" method. You went out into the world, found traces of a summoning clan, investigated them, tracked them down, and then prayed you survived whatever insane test they threw at you. This was the path for the desperate, the lonely, or the stupidly ambitious. It was dangerous as hell. Finding a contract was hard enough and uselessly time-consuming, but proving you were worthy often involved getting the shit kicked out of you by a giant bear or a moody trash panda.
Then there was the Legacy Path. The closed loop. Two flavors here: Teacher-Student and Bloodline. Teacher-Student was pretty straightforward. Your sensei introduces you to the boss summon, vouches for you, and maybe gets you a discount on the entry exam. Much easier. Bloodline contracts were even cushier. Shinobi Clans or even Daimyo families with pathetic chakra pools used these. An ancient oath between a family head and a summon clan creates an alliance where both sides benefit, generation after generation.
I looked around lazily, then slowly formed the hand signs. Boar. Dog. Bird. Monkey. Ram.
"Summoning Jutsu!" I slammed my palm to the wet stone.
Smoke billowed outward, thick and white, obscuring everything for a heartbeat.
When it cleared, nothing was there.
Silence.
Then a low, resonant hoot echoed from my right.
I turned. Perched on a rocky outcropping, talons gripping the stone with casual ease, was Aouru. A normal-sized, normal-shaped owl. Brown and cream plumage, ruffled slightly in the damp cave air. Her amber eyes were sharp, intelligent, and utterly unimpressed.
She tilted her head, examining me, then Orochimaru, then the giant snakes looming in the background. She hooted again.
Her hoot was low and layered, rich with meaning that bypassed language entirely and settled directly into understanding.
I smiled, leaning into the charm. "How could I not miss such a resplendent and refined lady? A day without your elegance is like a sky without stars. You're too stunning to stay away from for long, Aouru….. I fear my heart can't handle that."
Aouru perked up immediately, feathers ruffling with what could only be described as pleased vanity. She was a professional predator wrapped in soft plumage, but she loved compliments. It was adorable in the most terrifying way possible.
Then her head swiveled, taking in the damp, gloom of Ryuuchi Cave, the pulsing red veins in the rock, the oppressive humidity. Her next hoot was pure icy disdain. This place is vile. Why would you summon me to this festering hole?
"I couldn't agree more," I said smoothly, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. "You deserve palaces, moonlight, and open skies. Not... whatever this fungal excrescence is. But some people—" I gestured vaguely in Orochimaru's direction, "—they just have a thing for dank, creepy caves. You know how it is. No taste."
Aouru turned her amber glare directly at Orochimaru, and the hoot that came out of her beak was so filthy, so visceral, that if translated it would've made a sailor clutch his pearls and beg forgiveness from the gods.
Orochimaru licked his lips, watching our interaction in amused curiosity. He chuckled softly. "Fascinating. You seem to understand her perfectly, Eishin-kun. The cadence, the intent—there's no hesitation in your responses. I wonder... are you reading micro-expressions? Some form of chakra resonance? Or is it instinctual, a somatic link formed through contract?" He murmured the last part under his breath, eyes gleaming with scientific hunger.
Aouru turned back to me, tilting her head in that predatory way owls do, and hooted a question.
I shook my head. "Strictly business, my dear. No fighting for now. I'm just introducing a potential client. Someone interested in the... services Meigetsu Hermitage provides."
Aouru turned her elegant gaze back to Orochimaru. He met her stare with a wide twisted grin that stretched too far across his pale face. She looked back at me, then away, up toward the cavern ceiling, and let out a short, dismissive hoot.
I blinked.
Orochimaru's smile tightened, his tone remaining polite but acquiring a sharp edge. "What was that? Does the summon require... acceptance before proceeding? I'm afraid, Eishin-kun, summoning alone isn't enough to demonstrate your sincerity..."
I held up a hand. "Give me a second."
I turned back to Aouru, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Come on. Work with me here. Just give him a chance. I know the snake doesn't have my natural charm, but he's the good kind of client. Deep pockets. And he's... excessively motivated. Uh… what are the words, ahh. Highly leverageable. Well-positioned for value extraction," I leaned in closer, keeping my tone sugary. "Think of it as an investment. He'll pay premium rates without haggling. You could retire early on this one."
I didn't know if summon did retire, but whatever business jargon I threw at her seemed to have some results. Aouru's amber eyes gleamed. I could see the calculation happening behind them. She was tempted.
She hooted.
"Atta girl," I purred. "Tainted just adds flavor. Like aged cheese — you're magnificent. Truly. A vision of grace and business acumen."
She gave a small, satisfied trill at the compliment, then flapped one wing. A medium-sized scroll fell from beneath her feathers, hitting the ground and unfurling with a soft rustle. Rows of names were written, not many, perhaps a dozen. Most were crossed out with a single, brutal stroke. The last name, still intact, was mine.
"The Meigetsu Hermitage has only one condition for acceptance, Orochimaru," I looked at him upon his giant snake head. "You sign your own name. That's it. Simple entry fee."
Orochimaru's eyes traced the names, lingering on the crossed-out ones. His smile widened, knowing and sharp. "Oh, so simple. Who would have thought a summon that offers the Sage Art would be this easy, huh?" He spoke lightly, almost playfully, but the suspicion was clear.
Still, he leapt down from the giant snake's head, landing silently in front of the scroll. He crouched, inspecting it with the intensity of a surgeon examining a patient. His pale fingers hovered over the parchment, chakra flickering faintly as he tested for traps, seals, and hidden clauses.
He took his time, so much time that Aouru fluffed her feathers in irritation and hooted impatiently. While I tried not to focus too much on what he was doing. He would not find anything anyway. I twisted my lips and looked away.
Even without understanding the words, Orochimaru caught the tone. He chuckled. "Impatient, just like its summoner, huh. Really wonder who influences who."
He reached for the brush attached to the scroll's wooden handle.
"Aren't we forgetting something?" I cleared my throat. "Orochimaru-sama."
Orochimaru paused, then smiled. "Ah, yes. Of course." He reached into the sash behind him and pulled out another scroll, tossing it to me.
I caught it this time. No point being paranoid when he was this close to getting what he wanted. I unfurled it slowly, scanning the dense formula. It was Hiraishin. More complete than before. At least, that's what it looked like. I couldn't rule out traps embedded in the seal work. Orochimaru was too clever to take lightly. But you could always trust an untrustworthy person to be untrustworthy. That predictability was its own kind of assurance. That was why I—
"Is it to your liking?" Orochimaru asked, cutting my thought off. "Are we concluded?"
I nodded, rolling the scroll closed. "Yeah. We're good. Deal's a deal."
Orochimaru's smile turned triumphant. He grabbed the brush, dipped it in ink, and moved to write his name.
The moment the bristles touched the scroll, Orochimaru froze.
His flawless pale skin began to change. The smooth, porcelain texture began to gray minutely, fissures spreading from his fingertips up his hand. Age spots bloomed across his knuckles. The skin thinned, becoming papery, translucent, revealing the blue-green veins beneath. His hand trembled. Not from fear, but from sudden, accelerated frailty.
I smirked.
Yeah. You could always trust an untrustworthy person to be untrustworthy.
And that's why you never shake hands with a snake unless you're already holding its head.
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