"Please come forward, contestants on the notice board."
At the referee's command, two figures stepped into the arena. On one side stood Orochimaru, his cold, serpentine eyes glinting faintly with interest. Opposite him strode Uchiha Yashiro, fists clenched, his face a mask of determination.
"Orochimaru, I won't lose to you this time!" Yashiro shouted, pointing directly at him. His narrowed eyes widened with fierce resolve.
Orochimaru tilted his head, his expression filled with disappointment rather than excitement.
"You said that with such fervor… I almost thought your Sharingan had awakened."
He glanced meaningfully at Yashiro's ordinary black eyes.
"Unfortunately, it hasn't."
"You—!" Yashiro's rage flared instantly.
Orochimaru's calm voice cut into him like a blade.
"Don't misunderstand. I don't look down on the Uchiha Clan as a whole. I only look down on you, Uchiha Yashiro. You, who haven't even awakened the clan's bloodline limit… you have no right to speak of its glory."
The insult hit its mark. Yashiro's face twisted, fury boiling within him. Had the referee not stepped forward at that moment, he would have already unleashed a jutsu in blind rage.
The referee sighed inwardly. What powerful anger. The match hasn't even begun, and the smell of gunpowder already fills the air.
"Contestants, are you ready?" the referee asked, glancing between them.
"Always," Orochimaru replied smoothly, almost bored.
"Hurry up and get started!" Yashiro snapped.
"Then begin!"
The referee leapt back to a safe distance.
---
Yashiro moved first. With practiced speed, he pulled several shuriken from his pouch and hurled them in a spread pattern.
Simple tricks, Orochimaru thought. With a flick of his wrist, he drew a kunai and deflected the spinning steel.
But then Yashiro smirked. His fingers twitched. The deflected shuriken suddenly curved back midair, dragged by near-invisible steel wires attached to them.
I've got him! Yashiro's heart raced in triumph as the wires coiled, ready to bind Orochimaru.
"Manipulating shuriken with wire, hm?" Orochimaru clasped his hands together lazily. "Wind Release: Night Wind."
With a sudden burst, a violent gale exploded outward from Orochimaru's body. The wires snapped taut before whipping free, shuriken scattering helplessly under the roaring wind.
Gasps rippled through the spectators.
"No hand seals…?! That's ninjutsu without seals!"
Whispers spread like wildfire through the stands. To weave chakra without seals was the mark of genius or mastery far beyond his years.
Yashiro froze for a heartbeat in disbelief—but then his anger reignited. He quickly formed the Tiger seal, chakra burning in his lungs.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball—!"
But before he could complete it, Orochimaru's wind surged again.
"Ibuki Eisei!"
A focused tornado howled toward Yashiro, blades of wind shrieking within it.
Hiruzen Sarutobi leaned forward in shock. He's using the Night Wind as an attack jutsu? Not only that—he's controlling it so it doesn't harm him. Extraordinary…
The hurricane struck Yashiro head-on. He screamed as the slicing winds tore through his skin, crimson spray dotting the arena floor. When the gale subsided, his body was crisscrossed with bloody cuts.
Was that… a hurricane made of countless wind blades? Danzo Shimura's eyes gleamed with admiration. To control such a destructive jutsu at his age… remarkable.
But Yashiro wasn't finished yet. Trembling, he forced himself upright, his hands locking into the Tiger seal once more.
So you intend to trade your body for a chance to strike me? Orochimaru's eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, he too formed seals.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!" they both roared.
Twin infernos burst from their mouths, colliding midair.
Boom!
Flames roared skyward, heat waves rippling through the arena. The audience shielded their faces as the temperature spiked.
The clash of fire techniques raged, chakra grinding against chakra. The very air seemed to scream as two torrents of flame battled for dominance.
"Such power…!" one spectator whispered. "I've never seen fire techniques collide like this!"
But slowly, inevitably, Orochimaru's fire pushed through. His flames consumed Yashiro's, pressing forward until they burst apart in a fiery explosion.
"No… it can't be!" Yashiro's pupils shrank in disbelief. My strongest jutsu… overpowered by him?!
Through the dissipating flames, Orochimaru strode calmly forward. He raised his fist—and slammed it into Yashiro's face.
Smash!
Yashiro's body twisted in the air before crashing to the ground. He lay sprawled, dazed and broken.
From the stands, Jiraiya winced. That looked… painfully familiar. Just like how Tsunade always sends me flying.
"The winner of the eighth round is Orochimaru!" the referee declared.
Cheers erupted. Tsunade clapped enthusiastically. "Well done, Orochimaru!"
"Nice one!" Jiraiya hollered, though he secretly wondered how painful that punch had been.
Orochimaru allowed a faint smile to touch his lips.
---
Yashiro groaned, barely able to lift his head. "I… lost again…" His voice trembled with defeat. This time, there was no excuse—he had been crushed even in his strongest element.
Orochimaru walked toward him and extended a hand. Yashiro blinked, surprised, thinking for a moment it was an offer of respect. But then Orochimaru's fingers spread into a claw-like gesture.
"Next time you challenge me," Orochimaru said coldly, "don't forget to bring the appropriate challenge fee."
The words stunned the arena into silence. A challenge fee? Was he… demanding payment just for fighting him?
Hiruzen pressed a hand to his forehead. Greedy child… All three of my students are prodigies, yet each has such glaring flaws.
"You… cough, cough!" Yashiro choked in fury, blood bubbling at his lips. His body shook with rage and humiliation.
Medical-nin rushed in with a stretcher, carrying him away. His eyes never left Orochimaru until he was out of sight.
---
With the matches concluded, the results were announced. Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and Tsunade had all been promoted to Chunin.
For Orochimaru, the greatest relief was freedom from menial D-rank missions. Now he could dedicate far more time to training—and to his research.
After building the Iburi Clan's underground laboratory, Orochimaru devised a convenient method: he would leave shadow clones in Konoha or at the lab, while his true body remained hidden in research. In this way, neither the village nor his allies would notice his absences.
---
Later, outside the arena, Jiraiya stretched his arms with a grin.
"Orochimaru, Tsunade, we're chunin now! How about we go celebrate?"
"Give it up already. Kids aren't allowed in taverns," Tsunade shot back, waving him off. In truth, she often used the Transformation Jutsu to sneak into casinos, but she wasn't about to admit that.
"Eh?! You're really not going to try? This is the adult world!" Jiraiya complained, then turned hopefully to Orochimaru. "Come on, don't you want to taste sake at least once?"
"I'm not interested. Alcohol dulls the mind," Orochimaru replied flatly.
"What?! You too…" Jiraiya groaned. But before he could continue, his body vanished in a puff of smoke.
"Huh?! He disappeared?" Tsunade exclaimed.
"That was Reverse Summoning," Orochimaru said calmly. "The toads of Mount Myōboku must have summoned him back."
Could it be related to the prophecy? Hiruzen's words about Jiraiya's destiny echoed faintly in Orochimaru's mind.
"Well, how about we celebrate without him?" Tsunade said, though disappointment tinged her voice. The "adult world" intrigued her more than she cared to admit.
Orochimaru glanced at her in surprise. So she really is interested in it after all. Children… tell them not to touch something, and it only makes them more curious.
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