Orochimaru's golden eyes lingered on the clone, unblinking, curious.
A little more than a week ago, he had been the one to personally greenlight and partly orchestrate that massive operation against this boy.
An operation so heavy-handed that even many way stronger shinobi might not have survived it.
Yet Ryusei had lived. More than lived, he had clawed his way through with methods Orochimaru hadn't predicted, weaving together tricks, instincts, and sheer audacity.
But that alone wasn't what gnawed at him.
What unsettled him was the pace. Barely days had passed, and already the boy had broken through Tsunade's haze, pulling her back from her spiral and into his orbit.
That was something even Orochimaru had failed to do, despite knowing her for decades.
And more than that, what truly hooked his mind was the response from above.
Instead of a frantic scramble from Hiruzen and Danzo to erase the boy before that bond could take root, he received another message. A warning.
Subtle from increasingly hesitant Hiruzen.
Blunt from Danzo, which surprised him even more.
Both telling him the same thing: do not move against the boy on his own.
Wait for orders.
Even Danzo, despite being ever the 'hawk', had also rarely agreed on such a point.
Danzo, in particular, had been clear, knowing him better: do not ruin their plans out of personal greed for the boy's potential, he relayed.
That, more than anything, stoked Orochimaru's interest.
The boy had survived the trap.
He had bound Tsunade to his side.
And now even the Hokage and Danzo were weaving their schemes around him, instead of crushing him outright, where they should have been doing it the most.
It was Danzo who actually himself still told him about the Daimyo, probably to make him understand the gravity even more.
Orochimaru's lips curved faintly as he tilted his head, the hunger in his eyes undisguised.
His smile stretched a fraction wider, "How fascinating," he drawled, his voice carrying that low, serpentine lilt,
"Not only did you survive what should have been your unquestionable grave this time, but in a mere week you've managed to accomplish two things no shinobi in Konoha's history has ever done."
Ryusei's eyes narrowed slightly, but he stayed silent, waiting.
"One," Orochimaru said, golden eyes gleaming, "you dragged Tsunade out of her stupor. Something even I couldn't do."
"For years, she's turned her back on everyone, comrades, teacher, and even the village. I watched her drink herself into the ground and refuse every hand that reached from us all. Yet a boy, not even half her age, whispers something, and suddenly she rises resolutely again, following your steps. Tell me, Ryusei-kun, what exactly did you slip into her veins? Medicine? Or something sweeter?"
He tilted his head, mock curiosity in every line of his expression. "Tell me… how did you tame the Slug Princess?"
Ryusei's mouth curved into the faintest smirk. "If you all couldn't reach her with all your years of experience and time in the world, why would I waste breath explaining how I did it in a single meeting?"
For a heartbeat, silence. Then Orochimaru's chuckle slithered through the clearing. "Ah… sharp as expected."
His smile widened. "But even that doesn't outshine what truly caught my interest. The Daimyo's court. Since this system was born, many have tried to grasp it for themselves. Rogue clans, ambitious mercenaries, even deserters who thought to turn nobles into their puppets."
"All of them ended crushed under the weight of the hidden villages. Yet you… You actually succeeded. How did you manage to slip a leash around the Fire Lord's own house without being torn apart?"
Ryusei let his shoulders roll back slightly, as if the question bored him. "Because they thought like shinobi. Always force, intimidation, and blood on the walls. The court isn't a battlefield; it's a whole different arena. Power wasn't crucial; timing, familiarity, deception, those were way more crucial."
For a long moment, Orochimaru simply studied him, the wind stirring faintly through the ruined shrine.
Then a low laugh spilled out, genuine enough to chill the air. "Brilliant..."
"And yet… precarious. You've carved a path none before you managed. But tell me, Ryusei-kun—" his voice dipped into a whisper, "—do you actually believe you can hold it?"
Ryusei's smirk returned, faint but steady. "If I couldn't, we wouldn't be speaking right now."
Orochimaru's eyes gleamed with hunger, his tongue flicking across his lips. "Then perhaps you are worth more than the others say."
Orochimaru's smile lingered as he spoke, voice smooth but edged with that reptilian rasp.
"Then I won't beat around the bush. I have questions for you. And in return, you may fire your own at me. Ask about the village higher-ups, about techniques, about whatever gnaws at your mind. I don't mind."
Ryusei didn't flinch. His tone was calm, steady. "Whatever you want to ask, ask it. I'll answer freely. I didn't come here for empty chatter, however. I came here for something more lasting. Cooperation."
That word. Cooperation.
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed a fraction.
For a boy in Ryusei's position, surrounded by predators much larger than him, to speak of cooperation rather than petition… it was unexpected.
Surprising, even. Yet he didn't dismiss it. Not outright.
He tilted his head, as if humoring him. "Then let us test the measure of your words. First, tell me this. How did you acquire such knowledge and skill at your age? What I have seen of you should not be possible."
Ryusei's gaze was level. "Pressure always forces growth. Hardens faster than time does. And for some reason, I was born with a little more insight than most. I can see things where others can't. Paths they miss."
For a moment, Orochimaru was silent. Then the faintest chuckle escaped him, like a hiss of air between teeth. Insight born from pressure.
It was the kind of answer that reminded him of himself, the child who devoured scrolls in the dark, who sought answers no one else dared to chase.
His tongue flicked briefly across his lips before he continued. "I see. Then another question. The Senju. Do you plan to revive your clan openly, as your faction desired, or will you use its name only as political leverage?"
Ryusei didn't hesitate. "If I can, someday, I will revive the clan. But that's not my main priority. My goal is survival and getting stronger. Politics, titles, they're just tools to keep that alive."
Inside, Orochimaru's mind ticked.
Survival. That word again.
The boy valued life first, ambition second, and all else beneath.
Such people bent easily, stretched to fit circumstance, endured humiliation if it meant living another day.
They rarely became threats, not to him.
But they made excellent pawns.
He wouldn't insult him by calling him that aloud, not yet.
Still, the answer left him curious.
He pressed further, golden eyes narrowing. "And Tsunade's medical influence? How far has it gone? What has she truly passed on to you already?"
Ryusei gave a short nod and a hint. "I'm learning. Progressing well in all of those areas."
Orochimaru's lips parted in a faint smile, though inside his thoughts seethed with envy.
'So the rumors were true...',
Tsunade had really entrusted him with those advanced techniques of hers first, even though he had also long coveted them, techniques that had remained locked away from him for decades, despite them being teammates.
That alone raised Ryusei's value a bit more.
Because the boy didn't seem like one to cling to bonds or morals either.
So, passing and trading those techniques onto himself in the future, circumventing Tsunade's permission, would not be a problem.
But that would be tested later.
His voice slid to another topic, the one he enjoyed most. "What do you consider is more important, talent or ambition?"
"Do you know how the world is carved? By the strong. Only they leave their marks in the current. The weak? They are swept under, forgotten before their bones even sink. So, what use is being ambitious in that case?"
Ryusei's smirk was faint but sharp; he realised what he was asking. "Strength matters. But strength without purpose is just noise."
"Survival first. Goals second. Everything else is a tool to serve both. Power without direction is nothing but a loud corpse waiting to happen."
For a heartbeat, Orochimaru simply stared at him.
Then a slow, delighted laugh spilled into the shrine, reverberating off the broken stone.
Pragmatic. Cold.
Not clouded by fear, not swelled by arrogance.
It was like looking into a younger reflection of himself.
His hunger grew.
So he leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper. "When Konoha itself shifts, Ryusei-kun… there will be opportunities. Great ones. And those who survive long enough to seize them will find themselves standing atop a new world."
Inwardly, his thoughts coiled like smoke.
Yes… If the boy survived that long, he could be a very useful pawn.
Perhaps even more, though, that was still far away.
For now, it would have to be done carefully, quietly.
Danzo's favor was still more important.
He could not risk offending him yet.
Ryusei's eyes didn't waver. "I'm not against cooperation. But only on equal terms."
For the first time, Orochimaru's smile faltered.
Equal terms.
He had just decided the boy wasn't arrogant, that his head wasn't swollen by pride.
Yet here he was, speaking of equality with him.
Equal terms with him? Absurd. Impossible.
But he didn't show his disdain aloud yet, as if waiting for him to humor him first.
He only tilted his head, let his smile creep back into place, and watched the boy through half-lidded eyes.
Ryusei could feel it, the slight hitch in Orochimaru's smile, the narrowing of those golden eyes.
He knew exactly what the sannin was thinking.
Absurd, arrogant, laughable.
Yet Ryusei's gaze didn't waver.
He leaned forward just slightly, his voice smooth, calm, almost casual.
"Then tell me, Orochimaru," he said suddenly, his tone carrying a strange edge, "what do you think is the connection between the Uchiha and the Senju?"
The words cut through the clearing like a blade.
For a moment, even Orochimaru's constant smile froze.
He hadn't expected that question, not here, not now.
His eyes narrowed further, the hunger behind them shifting into something sharper, colder.
"Mmm," he breathed after a pause, the sound low, drawn out, as if savoring the taste of the question. "What an odd thing to ask... And so suddenly. Why…?"
Ryusei only smirked faintly, not clarifying.
The silence itself was his answer.