Chapter 25 — The Third Teammate
From beneath the shadow of the trees, space itself seemed to ripple. A tall, slender figure slowly emerged.
He wore the standard Konoha jōnin uniform, a familiar green flak jacket draped over it. Long, jet-black hair cascaded down his back like a waterfall, his complexion pale as if he had not seen sunlight for a long time.
Those snake-like vertical pupils gleamed with a cold, amused light—dangerous, curious, and unmistakably predatory.
He stood there casually, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as though what lay before him was not a brutal battlefield…
…but an interesting experimental ground.
The figure was none other than one of Konoha's legendary Three Ninja—Orochimaru, the "Snake Sannin."
---
"Withdraw."
Floating in midair, Ōnoki spoke calmly, his voice utterly devoid of emotion.
"This time… Konoha wins."
Orochimaru watched as the Iwagakure shinobi retreated in orderly fashion, making no move to stop them.
After all, in the shinobi world, the ability to fly was practically synonymous with invincibility—and that was without even mentioning Ōnoki's Dust Release, whose destructive power was downright excessive.
There existed an unspoken rule on the battlefield: unless it was a direct, large-scale confrontation, shinobi who had reached Kage-level were not supposed to casually slaughter those of lower rank.
Without such a tacit agreement, Kage-level fighters could simply avoid pushing too deep into enemy lines and still mow down waves of chūnin and genin at will—turning any battlefield into a one-sided massacre.
By that standard, Ōnoki's repeated interventions were already crossing the line. But rules in the shinobi world had always been written by the strong. As the most powerful presence on this battlefield, no one dared challenge him.
In truth, if not for Ōnoki repeatedly casting aside his pride to personally save the situation, Iwagakure would have long since been beaten back to its borders.
"Heh. Back to camp."
Orochimaru issued the order calmly to the supporting shinobi. As the supreme commander of this front, he had been closely monitoring Ōnoki's movements all along—only then could he appear at precisely the right moment.
---
After leading the troops back to camp, Orochimaru immediately summoned Nawaki's squad.
"Sensei!"
The moment he entered the central command tent, Nawaki eagerly stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"Mm."
Yami noticed a rare hint of a smile on Orochimaru's face—a clear sign of approval toward Nawaki.
Setting aside Tsunade's influence, Nawaki's open, unpretentious, and sunny personality was perhaps his greatest asset.
One could even say that Orochimaru's later obsession with immortality might have been tied, in part, to Nawaki's early death. Somewhere along the path of pursuing eternal life, he had slowly lost sight of his original intentions.
And now—
This squad had finally gained its third member.
In the end, he would undergo that final metamorphosis—becoming the cold-blooded scientist who would one day say:
> "There is no meaning in mourning the dead. If death has any value at all, it exists only when it can be used."
Yet the Orochimaru standing here now—though his aura was already chilling—still retained the unique charisma that had earned him the title "Cold Lord."
---
"Did you complete all the assignments I gave you?"
Orochimaru's hoarse voice carried the faint edge of an examination.
"Those ninjutsu? I mastered them ages ago," Nawaki replied confidently.
"Oh? But I heard you lost a sparring match—to the Namikaze boy beside you."
That light, casual remark shattered Nawaki's freshly built confidence in an instant. Every word he had prepared jammed in his throat.
"Namikaze Yami," Orochimaru continued, his gaze shifting. "You're impressive. A civilian-born shinobi who graduated first in your class—and your subsequent record is even more interesting. It seems you're hiding quite a few secrets."
Caught off guard by the sudden attention, Yami answered calmly,
"I simply went through too much in Uzushiogakure. It forced a breakthrough."
He knew there was no fooling one of the Three Ninja, so he offered a reasonable explanation instead. After all—who said civilians couldn't produce geniuses? Orochimaru himself, as well as Jiraiya, were living proof.
Without exceptional talent, even if Hiruzen Sarutobi wished to elevate civilian shinobi, they could never have become his disciples.
Sure enough, Orochimaru gave a barely perceptible nod, seemingly satisfied with Yami's explanation.
"Settle in at the camp for now. The battlefield changes by the moment—missions can come at any time."
He paused, then added, "Your other teammate is waiting outside the tent. Don't keep him too long."
"Yes!"
The two answered in unison.
---
Stepping out of the command tent, they saw a figure standing quietly in the night—wearing sunglasses despite the darkness.
"Ah! Shibi—it's you?!" Nawaki greeted him exaggeratedly, sounding genuinely surprised.
The newcomer was Aburame Shibi, their former classmate and runner-up at the academy. With his arrival, the top three graduates of their year had finally reunited on the front lines.
Yami immediately understood. No matter how boldly Tsunade spoke, she could never truly put her worries about Nawaki to rest.
If anything, Shibi was the one with truly limitless potential. History would later prove that beyond doubt.
Leaving aside his son—one of the famed Konoha Twelve—the events Shibi himself participated in were already legendary:
fighting alongside Minato against Mukade in the Land of Rōran, confronting Konan head-on during Pain's invasion, and guarding Naruto's training on Turtle Island during the Fourth Shinobi War.
From start to finish, he was the ultimate all-rounder—capable of support and carrying alike—a quintessential "background ace."
"Long time no see," Shibi said calmly, his tone as flat and restrained as ever.
"It really has been a while. Looks like we'll be relying on you again," Yami replied with a smile. He considered their relationship more than decent.
At Yami's response, Shibi stiffened slightly. Memories of the graduation combat exam resurfaced unbidden.
Back then, the three of them had clearly outclassed their peers. In terms of raw strength, Yami shouldn't have beaten him.
And yet—
One single sentence—"So… where do your kikaichū poop?"—had caught him completely off guard. In that instant of distraction, Yami seized the opening and won.
Shibi forcibly pushed the memory aside and said coolly,
"I'll take you to the tents."
The two followed him, soon arriving at their quarters, where their squad's jōnin leader—Hyūga Teru—was already resting.
---
Several days later
"Team Seventeen, assemble."
Hyūga Teru's command was crisp. Their adjustment period was clearly over—a mission had arrived.
"Reliable intelligence reports an Iwagakure logistics outpost in a valley to the northeast. Your task is to confirm the information—and destroy it if verified."
Yami and the others nodded.
With a Hyūga's Byakugan, an Aburame's kikaichū, and Yami's sharp perception (concealed Kagura Mind's Eye), their squad's reconnaissance capabilities were absurdly strong.
Calling this the ultimate scouting team wouldn't be an exaggeration. In fact, this lineup felt more like using anti-air artillery to swat mosquitoes—complete overkill.
And yet…
Somewhere deep inside, a faint unease quietly crept into Yami's heart.