Saeko sat submerged in the tub, but this was no warm bath.
The liquid surrounding her was thick, slightly viscous, and an unnatural shade of green. It clung to her skin like a second layer, neither warm nor cold. She didn't ask what it was. Part of her didn't want to know.
When she accepted the deal, Orochimaru had only given a simple command:
"Get naked."
For a full second, her mind went blank.
Not out of shame or embarrassment, but from the sheer gravity of that moment. As if by removing her clothes, she was shedding more than just fabric. She was offering herself, not just body, but will.
And yet… she obeyed.
Why?
Shouldn't she be afraid he'd violate her? Take advantage?
Strangely, no.
She wasn't.
From her perspective, if Orochimaru wanted to do anything to her, he wouldn't have asked. He wouldn't have hesitated. That wasn't the kind of man he was. If he desired her like that, resistance wouldn't have mattered.
The fact that those other two girls—Misuzu and Shizuka—had spent hours around him, completely bare, and yet untouched, spoke volumes.
It wasn't restraint.
It was pride.
But Saeko couldn't tell what that pride was built on.
Was it about ownership, only touching what he considered truly his?
Or was it something else… permission, perhaps?
Some personal line, buried deep in his twisted sense of morality.
Even now, as her naked body soaked in this unknown substance, his back was turned. He wasn't watching her with lust. In fact, he barely looked at her at all unless he had a reason to.
That, more than anything, left an impact.
The absolute control of a man who didn't need to prove anything to anyone.
"Come out," Orochimaru said, turning fully toward her as he calmly removed his gloves and tossed them into a small bin beside him.
Saeko took a deep breath.
With her right hand covering her chest and the left shielding herself below, she rose from the tub. While she hadn't hesitated earlier, that didn't mean the embarrassment was gone.
In fact, this was the most vulnerable she had ever felt.
Standing naked in front of a man—this man—was something she had never imagined. Not even in her wildest nightmares or quietest thoughts.
She stepped out of the circular tub, water dripping from her legs. It was something Orochimaru had prepared in advance, and now it felt like a stage she'd just performed on.
He stepped forward, arms extending toward her.
Her breath caught, and her eyes closed on instinct as his hands gently reached for hers. They moved with deliberate calm, tracing along her fingers, checking something. For a moment, their fingers interlocked.
Then he released her hands.
His touch moved to her waist, applying light pressure that caused her upper body to tilt back slightly. She regained her posture quickly, but the moment stayed burned in her nerves.
Next, he touched her thigh. A visible shiver ran through her, but she fought it. She wouldn't flinch. Not now.
He crouched, hands sliding down to her ankle.
At that distance, his face was too close. She instinctively covered herself more, even though he didn't spare her a glance in that way.
Then, just as casually, he stood up.
"Get dressed," he said simply.
So she did.
As Saeko picked up the folded white panties and slipped them on, she could feel his gaze shift. Not watching her, but observing something far deeper. Orochimaru's hands moved deftly, scribbling notes on a parchment with a brush pen. His voice, though calm, held a clinical sharpness.
"Even once you start using chakra," he began, "your chakra volume will be low. Not because you're weak, but because you haven't started building it yet."
He dipped the pen again before continuing, tone unaffected.
"Your combat experience is also lacking. By this age, most shinobi your level have already seen blood. Spilled it, earned it. You've done that too, but only for survival."
He looked up at her briefly, the slightest tilt of interest in his gaze.
"They did it for far more. Honour. Money. Progress. Cruelty. Survival is only the first step."
With a faint flick, he turned away.
"To match them," he said again, his gaze sharpening as he looked back at her, "you don't just need chakra. You need control. Not only over chakra, but over your body as well."
He walked slowly around the tub, eyes resting briefly on her immersed form.
"You saw me fight," he continued. "My movements were fast, but more importantly, precise. Controlled. That's the difference. If you tried to move at that speed with your current body, you'd tear muscle, snap joints, maybe shatter bone."
He paused beside the table of scrolls, placing his brush down with a click.
"Why?" Orochimaru asked rhetorically, already answering himself.
"Because my body has been trained. But more than that, altered. Reinforced. Adapted to withstand the stress of movement most people can't even perceive. Speed means nothing without control. Power is wasted without a body that can carry it."
He gestured toward the faintly bubbling green fluid around her.
"The solution you're in right now has one purpose. To start that process. It breaks down certain tensions in your muscles, making them more flexible, more responsive to conditioning. On its own, it won't do much. But paired with the right exercises, diets, and techniques, it prepares your body to handle real training."
Orochimaru's tone remained steady, but firm.
"There are other formulas as well. Some stimulate the nervous system. Others strengthen bones, adjust hormonal pathways. Each is tailored to push the body past its current human limits."
Saeko could only sit in awe, absorbing his words. It wasn't just the knowledge that stunned her—it was the implication behind it all.
She had always thought ninja strength came from training or chakra. But this was deeper. Methodical. Engineered.
And expensive.
The ninja academy wasn't just a place for theory and sparring. For many, especially civilian-born children, it was the only path to access resources like these. Clan heirs had the support of generations—training manuals, bloodline techniques, tailored diets, and specialized medical support. But civilians? They relied on the academy to give them a fighting chance. Without physical enhancements or tailored regimens, how could a commoner possibly match someone born and raised in the environment of a clan?
That was why the academy existed in the first place. To broaden the pool of capable shinobi. But it wasn't charity. Clans had to invest too, pushing their own children to compete against the rising tide. Standards kept rising, and with them, the cost of being left behind.
This was also the reason the academy was formed. To increase the number of shinobi. And of course, various clans had to invest in them.
Saeko remained quiet, absorbing every word. The scent of herbal oil and minerals still clung to her skin from the soak, a reminder that her path was no longer one of normality.
She looked at her own hands, flexing her fingers. They felt lighter. As if some invisible weight had been lifted, but replaced by something humming beneath her skin.
He glanced over his shoulder, eyes sharp.
"Don't be fooled. This is only the beginning. Chakra is fuel, yes, but your vessel must be ready to carry it. Think of a river. If the banks are weak, the water destroys everything. If the foundation is strong, the water flows where you command."
"You want to survive in the world you're about to enter," Orochimaru continued, his voice low but unyielding. "This is your first step. Chakra control, weapon technique, battlefield tactics. Those come later. They're useless if your body breaks in the middle of a mission. Without a foundation, you'll fall before you ever draw your blade."
Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned his back to her.
"Rest now. The next hour will complete the absorption process. After that, dry off and eat the ration on the table. You'll need the energy."
***************
Should he take back other two too?