"Lord Emiya is amazing…"
Little Tsunade's eyes shone with admiration as she walked beside the tall figure of Emiya Shihara. Even at her young age, she already adored his vast knowledge and calm authority.
Shihara said nothing. He didn't even glance back at her as they left Konoha Hospital together. His silence wasn't unkind—it was simply the quiet of a man who thought far ahead of the present moment.
A Child Named Orochimaru
Orochimaru.
The truly chosen one.
Long before the boy was even born, Emiya Shihara—who carried the memories of another lifetime—had already selected him. In Shihara's intricate plans, Tsunade was merely the caretaker of the "crystal coffin," but Orochimaru was destined to be its true wielder.
A genius beyond compare.
Even now, in this era, Orochimaru was only five years old, yet he displayed terrifying potential. Without any teacher, he experimented with poisons derived from food in an attempt to defeat adults. His logic was sharp, his curiosity bottomless. Shihara had no doubt: one day, this boy would reach for the forbidden technique of Konoha—the Impure World Reincarnation—and master it.
When that day came, the crystal coffin Shihara had hidden for a thousand years would fall into Orochimaru's hands, fulfilling its purpose. Especially the one in the Wet Bone Forest—designed meticulously to suit Orochimaru alone.
The Senju clan's coffin was merely bait, a lure left behind in the ninja world. But the Wet Bone Forest's coffin was different. That was Shihara's last hope for resurrection.
Yet Orochimaru was too clever. Direct contact would only awaken suspicion in the future. So Shihara avoided the boy, keeping his presence a mystery. Even if he were revived through the Impure World Reincarnation, he would need a backup plan embedded within Orochimaru himself—proof of his true return.
Threads of Fate
Tsunade.
Shimura Danzo.
Sarutobi Hiruzen.
All of them would cross paths with Orochimaru in the future. The bonds they formed now would become threads of fate, surrounding the genius and shaping his life.
But the little girl beside Shihara knew nothing of this.
"That guy is so stupid…" Tsunade muttered, recalling her earlier encounter. "When I came here with Grandpa, I saw him in the hospital because he ate something bad…"
Shihara placed a hand gently on her head. "Tsunade, if we don't like someone, we should tell them directly instead of speaking ill behind their back."
"Really?"
Tsunade nodded but whispered, "But I don't think he's bad. Just a little stupid. He keeps ending up in the hospital because of food poisoning…"
Shihara almost laughed. In all the world, no one could accuse Orochimaru of stupidity. Even at five, his cunning outstripped most adults.
"I heard he's the same age as me," Tsunade said, sighing like a tiny old woman. "I'm starting school this year too. Will he be my classmate? I hope he gets smarter. Otherwise he'll get bullied, and I might even have to protect him…"
Shihara fell silent again. Deceiving Orochimaru would take a thousand years—yet here was a child calling him foolish.
Still, Tsunade's kindness was worth nurturing.
He lifted her onto his shoulders as they walked toward Konoha's shopping district. "Today you can have sugarcane juice. It's sweeter than chestnut juice."
"Eh? Why?"
"Remember to brush your teeth after."
"Emiya-sama is the best!" Tsunade cheered, hugging his forehead.
Shihara gently moved her small hand so he could see. "Are you going to gamble with Hashirama again when we get home today?"
"Bet!" she said firmly.
This little girl had clearly been led astray by her unreliable elders. While she loved Shihara's teaching, gambling with her great-grandfather was her favorite pastime.
The Three Young Sannin
As they neared home, Shihara spotted a familiar scene. Little Jiraiya—cheerful as always—was chatting happily with a woman at least twenty years older. The boy's smile glowed with innocent charm.
Perhaps, Shihara thought, this too was a kind of genius.
Tsunade. Jiraiya. Orochimaru.
In his past life, these three had become Konoha's legendary Sannin. Even now, each was already walking the path they loved.
"I'm going to beat Grandpa today!" Tsunade clenched her fists.
A gambling prodigy at five, she had already mastered every trick from dice to cards. Today she planned a new strategy—certain she would win.
Shihara only sighed. He couldn't interfere with Tsunade's luck.
At the Senju Residence
Hashirama Senju's home bustled unusually. Tobirama was present, as were Mito Uzumaki and their children. Around the house stood Hokage guards and ANBU, more than usual. A tension hung in the air.
"It seems," Shihara murmured to Tobirama, "we'll be guests here tonight."
Tobirama turned away, his normally steady voice tinged with unease. "I only hope… I can still visit my brother tomorrow."
The time was almost up. Hashirama's life was nearing its end. Yet the First Hokage showed no sign of weakness. He strode around the gambling table with full energy, piling up his savings and calling for Tsunade to place her bets.
"Four-six-six, big!"
"Tsunade, you lost again…"
"Three-one-one, small!"
"Tsunade, I win again…"
"Darn it…"
The coins in front of Tsunade dwindled as her pout grew. Her luck was terrible today.
"This is the last round," Hashirama said kindly. "If you win this time, all your debts will be cleared, and all this money will be yours."
"Really?" Tsunade's eyes sparkled like stars.
If she won, she wouldn't just pay off her losses—she could even lend money to Grandpa! She touched the gem at her chest—the beautiful pendant Hashirama had given her moments earlier. Maybe, just for him, she'd skip charging interest.
The dice rattled in the cup.
"Small!" Tsunade called.
"Then I'll take big," Hashirama smiled, opening the cup.
Two, two, one.
Three small points.
"Hahahaha! I won!" Tsunade crowed, scooping the coins and counting them with practiced ease.
Hashirama smiled at her joy. Then, quietly, his body sagged and collapsed onto the mat.
"Grandpa?"
"Grandpa!"
Tsunade's face froze in shock. The great man who had always seemed like a god now lay before her, helpless. Her little mind couldn't grasp what was happening.
It had begun.
The end of an era.
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