The exact timing of Orochimaru's defection is uncertain.
But it wasn't now—though it wasn't far off either.
Anko Mitarashi was a year younger than Kurenai Yūhi.
After graduating, Anko became Orochimaru's disciple and received his personal guidance. That same year, she joined his research team and learned much under him. She even accepted Orochimaru's Cursed Seal.
That was the beginning of her nightmare.
Not long after, Orochimaru defected, using forbidden techniques to cruelly erase Anko's memories.
This meant that, even at this moment, Orochimaru had already stepped onto a path of no return. Human experimentation was already underway.
It seemed that after failing to secure the position of Hokage, Orochimaru turned fully to his research. With Danzō's support behind him, resources were never a problem.
Yes—this cold, terrifying man had once sought to be Hokage.
That fact alone would probably make Naruto jump up, point at Orochimaru's nose, and yell, "I forgive you!" as if granting him a clean slate.
But none of this had much to do with Hakken Yoru.
What did matter was Anko's Cursed Seal.
That thing was dangerous.
As long as the seal existed, Orochimaru could forcibly resurrect himself through it.
Troublesome indeed.
"O-Orochimaru-sama…"
Anko swallowed hard, nervous. After all, not just anyone could become his disciple. She didn't even know why the Third had arranged it this way.
After watching Anko for just a day, Orochimaru seemed to lose interest.
To him, acting as a Jōnin instructor was nothing more than a waste of time. But he had to accept the arrangement—at the very least, it gave the Third the illusion that he was busy, allowing him to continue his human experiments undisturbed.
As for the cursed seal in the original story, that had been an accident. Even Orochimaru hadn't expected Anko to survive.
The first survivor of the Cursed Seal of Heaven—that alone was her value.
Whoosh!
Hakken halted his slashing, exhaled, and finally met Orochimaru's eyes.
Their gazes locked. No sparks flew.
But in Orochimaru's eyes, Hakken saw a trace of interest.
"Let's go, Anko."
With a playful lick of his lips, Orochimaru turned and left.
A pity.
Orochimaru-sama hadn't taken a liking to her brother after all.
Anko sighed. The purpose of bringing him here had gone unfulfilled.
She was a bit slow.
She couldn't see the meaning behind Orochimaru's gaze.
This was only their first meeting, and given Orochimaru's nature—his love of toying with others' minds—this was just the beginning.
Like the small white snake that lingered in the shadow of a nearby tree after Orochimaru's departure.
When Orochimaru truly set his sights on someone, he always observed first. At this point in time, he wasn't yet as brazen as he would become later in the story.
That was why, after watching Hakken for a while, he had made his decision.
At first glance, the boy's slashes looked ordinary. But each strike was impossibly steady. Though seemingly random, without rhythm or pattern, every blow carried the impression that his blade could cut from any angle at the moment of impact.
This was not a skill a boy his age should have.
And so, Orochimaru's curiosity was stirred.
Hakken withdrew his gaze, unwilling to bother with it.
If he wanted to watch, let him.
Just don't get scared later.
There were countless ways to slash.
And the system never limited him to repeating just one. Those earlier strikes?
Nothing more than a warm-up.
After all, repeating the same slashing motion endlessly would become dull, even for someone as composed as Hakken.
He didn't mind adding a little variety to his practice.
Right now, he was waiting for someone.
Whoosh.
A figure landed beside him—it was Itachi Uchiha, who had slept soundly the night before.
"You're a bit late."
Hakken raised an eyebrow.
"Sorry, Hakken."
Itachi spoke with some embarrassment. His talk with his father had taken longer than expected. On the way here, he had also been mulling over the meaning of clan and village, which delayed him further.
"Father told me some things about the Ninja Academy. That's why I'm late."
Skipping over the reprimand, Itachi went straight to mentioning the academy.
With winter over and spring returning, it was time for the new round of enrollment. Fugaku Uchiha had already signed up his prodigy of a son.
The Ninja Academy?
Hakken understood.
The academy—a curious place. Founded by the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama, it was where all Konoha shinobi began their training. There, the basics of being a ninja were taught.
But its greatest purpose was indoctrination.
Hakken shook his head. He didn't care much for the place. Still, as a child of Konoha, he would have to go through the motions.
"Let's begin."
Pushing aside thoughts of the academy, Hakken's eyes sharpened as he stepped into the center of the field.
Sword in hand, his entire demeanor changed. The sharp aura radiating from him, combined with the scar across his face, pressed down on Itachi with crushing intensity.
Nodding firmly, Itachi took a deep breath, pulled ten shuriken from his pouch, and gripped them tight.
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
In a blur, ten shuriken shot from his hand straight toward Hakken!
A sudden strike!
The little white snake watching from behind a tree froze, stunned.
But what followed was even more shocking.
Hakken's arm swung, his face lit with a fervent battle spirit, and he roared as his blade came down.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Every shuriken aimed at him was knocked aside—and impossibly, all ten flew back at Itachi Uchiha, completely intact!
What are they doing?
Playing catch?!
The little snake gawked in disbelief.
But their training wasn't finished.
Itachi launched another shuriken, striking against the first ten mid-air!
Clang! Clang! Clang!
In an instant, the shuriken changed trajectory and came whirling back toward Hakken!
The real training had only just begun.
As for the little white snake...
It was utterly dumbfounded.
Was this truly their terrifying way of training?
Madness?
Or absolute confidence?
It couldn't comprehend it.