Anko Mitarashi—disciple of Orochimaru, one of Konoha's legendary Sannin—had once stood in good esteem. But ever since her master was exposed for conducting forbidden experiments on villagers and declared a rogue ninja, her position in the village had grown increasingly precarious.
She and Roshi shared the same birth year, Konoha Year 40, and had even sat in the same Ninja Academy class—though never in the same group. Their connection, at best, was little more than acquaintanceship: familiar faces, nothing more.
After Orochimaru's fall, Anko was imprisoned by the Anbu for months. Only after exhaustive investigation was she cleared of suspicion and released—a gesture that felt more like a formality than genuine absolution. Orochimaru's crimes were too grave for even Hiruzen to shield: the murder of villagers, human experimentation, and the shattering of Konoha's most sacred foundation.
For over fifty years, clans had united under the banner of Hidden Villages. The most basic condition of coexistence was simple—clans did not prey on each other. Orochimaru had violated that rule, and for that alone, he could no longer remain within Konoha.
Yet killing him outright was another matter. Orochimaru was a Sannin, a war hero, the Hokage's own disciple. His contributions to Konoha were countless, his influence within the village vast. A clean execution might have satisfied justice, but it would also fracture the village. In the end, Hiruzen had chosen the middle road: he struck Orochimaru down, but stopped short of the killing blow, allowing him to flee. Officially, Konoha would treat him as any other missing-nin. Unofficially, he had been allowed to escape.
And if such leniency was shown to the master, it naturally extended to his disciples and subordinates. In a true military purge, Anko and others like her would never have walked free. But Konoha's punishment was more thunder than rain.
For Roshi, this made his squad situation complicated. Two teammates—one a child, the other fresh out of interrogation—each carrying backgrounds that would draw stares. Hardly an ideal team, but he wasn't in a position to argue.
The Special Jōnin assessment arranged by the Hokage was still pending. The examiners were out on missions, and until their return, Roshi could only wait. Waiting, however, did not mean idleness.
In the old forest behind the Senju compound, he sat cross-legged in meditation. Weeks of quiet training had sharpened his senses. Now he could clearly sense the subtle disturbances caused when his Wood Release drew at the edges of Natural Energy—ripples, faint yet distinct, like silent currents moving through the deep sea.
The threshold of perception had been crossed. The next step was guidance—drawing this primal energy into himself. But to recklessly touch it with his own body was suicide. One mistake, and he would end as nothing more than a petrified husk among the roots.
In the original story, Naruto had overcome this hurdle with Shadow Clones, using them to absorb natural energy in his stead. Roshi had something even better.
Wood Clones.
Unlike Shadow Clones, they weren't just fragile copies. They could carry his power, move with his flexibility, and—most crucially—share their senses with the original in real time. Where Shadow Clones needed to disperse to transfer memories, Wood Clones were seamless extensions of self.
This meant he could attempt Sage training with them. Even if a clone failed and turned to stone, only the clone would be lost. His true body would remain unharmed.
The realization struck with the clarity of lightning. Roshi pressed his hands together, and with a soft rustle of bark and leaves, a Wood Clone peeled itself away from his body.
Roshi closed his eyes, mind drawn taut like a bowstring. His perception stretched outward, threading itself into the Wood Clone's body like unseen neural synapses, sharing its every sense. His intent pulsed clearly through the link: Perceive. Guide. Absorb the Natural Energy drifting through this forest.
The Wood Clone obeyed. At first, only the whisper of leaves stirred by the wind filled the silence. Then—a subtle heaviness bled into the air. The atmosphere thickened, the motes of light seeping through the branches seemed to drift sluggishly, as though weighed down.
Through their shared senses, Roshi felt it.
This was no longer a vague ripple—it was immersion in a vast, invisible ocean of life. Countless motes of energy, shimmering like translucent stardust, drifted and flowed around the Wood Clone, each particle pulsing with primal vitality.
The clone reached out, guiding its Chakra to brush against a single wisp—
The instant that thread of natural energy entered its body, a violent torrent erupted! Brimming with vitality yet burning with corrosive force, it rampaged through the clone like molten life-essence poured into a fragile vessel.
The Wood Clone convulsed. Chakra that formed its body warped and buckled. Rough wooden textures crawled across its skin, twisting its form into something monstrous. Joints cracked and groaned as its body swelled, reshaping into a grotesque fusion of man and tree.
"Ugh…" Roshi's brow furrowed. His face blanched as the backlash tore through their shared link. The pain was sharp, raw, as though his own flesh were being warped into bark and fiber. Yet he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to watch.
The clone's transformation accelerated. Just before its human shape was lost entirely, a creeping pallor spread across the wooden growths. Ashen stone-like petrification devoured the rampant vitality, racing over bark and limb until the entire figure threatened to become nothing but a twisted statue.
Roshi's heart tightened. His voice cut through the stillness.
"Release!"
With a sharp bang, the half-tree, half-stone monstrosity collapsed into a heap of charred wood and scattered fragments, dissolving into fading motes of dust.
Roshi exhaled slowly, his eyes opening. A fine sheen of sweat clung to his brow, but a glimmer of insight sharpened his gaze.
Failure—but not without reward.
The experiment revealed the truth: Natural Energy did not strengthen everything blindly. It magnified what was inherent. For the toads of Mount Myōboku and the serpents of Ryūchi Cave, it heightened the powers of their kind. For his Wood Clone, forged from Wood Release itself, it seized upon the latent essence of "Wood"—a shadow of the Divine Tree's nature—and drove it into rampant growth until the vessel collapsed.
He studied the charred remnants scattered across the forest floor, thoughtful. So… Natural Energy responds to the core of what you are.
As the realization settled, a sudden flutter of wings disturbed the silence. A black-feathered eagle swooped soundlessly from the night sky, alighting on a branch before him. Its sharp eyes glinted as it extended its beak, offering a small wooden message tube sealed with wax—the unmistakable mark of the Hokage's office.
Roshi unrolled the parchment. The familiar, slightly scrawled yet forceful handwriting of Hiruzen sprawled across it:
"Roshi, the assessment examiner has returned. Three days from now, at noon—Third Training Ground."
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