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Year 2 - First Term
Jiraiya smelled it before he even reached the door. Once the metallic scent registered, he hesitated for only a second before barging into the boys’ bathroom.
“Oro!” he yelled as he stepped into the bathroom. The relief he felt stayed only for a moment. Orochimaru’s hand tightened around a pair of red stained scissors.
Jiraiya gagged as his mind registered the suffocating smell of blood. It dripped onto the tiled floor, into a spreading puddle, and splashes of red were splattered on stalls and mirrors.
In the middle of it all, were two bodies.
Tsunade was ready to scold Jiraiya when he entered the classroom without Orochimaru in tow. But then she caught a whiff of blood, saw something frantic in his eyes. She abandoned the textbooks and study materials on her desk and ran.
As Jiraiya pried the bloody scissors from their friend’s hand, she examined the bodies— two boys from the grade above them. She remembered that among Orochimaru’s regular tormentors, they were particularly vicious. Which prestigious family names did they hide their crimes behind?
She stepped away when the pool of blood approached her shoes. Voice shaking, she said, “I’ll go get my uncle.”
“Tsunade, don’t.” A firm grip on her wrist stopped her from walking out of the bathroom.
She yanked her arm away from Jiraiya. “They might still be breathing. We have to be quick.”
“And what will we tell him?”
Her immediate answer died in her throat.
A bit of blood was on Tsunade's arm, where he held her. It must’ve gotten on his hand when he took the scissors from Orochimaru.
He was sitting in a corner of the bathroom, hands hanging limply by his side. Despite the humid air and Jiraiya’s blazer on top of his own, Orochimaru was shivering.
“Then,” her voice broke. The small speck of blood on her was burning. “Then, what do we do?”
Getting rid of the evidence was too easy. Tsunade had the key to a closet with cleaning supplies, and as she wiped down the bathroom, Jiraiya disposed of the bodies. He stuffed them in a black trash bag.
Every one of his footsteps echoed in the empty halls of the Academy, and the afternoon sunlight pouring in from the gigantic windows felt like a spotlight shining on him. Jiraiya held his breath the entire walk to the incinerators at the back of the building.
Tsunade was wiping away the blood on Orochimaru’s hand when he returned. The smell of bleach was just as overwhelming as the blood had been, and if he searched hard enough, he could still smell something metallic underneath.
“Get our bags, Jiraiya.” Tsunade said as she continued to wipe away at a hand that was already clean. “You guys can stay over at my place tonight.”
Entering Senju Mansion didn’t give Jiraiya the sense of wonder and envy it usually did. It felt like a trap. Too many servants greeting them at the door. Could they smell the blood on them? Tsunade’s grandma also said hello as they walked through the West Hall to get to Tsunade’s suite. She was a surgeon, surely she’s familiar with the scent of blood.
All Uzumaki Mito asked was what they wanted for dinner.
The various servants and butlers, and the matriarch of the Senju family didn’t say anything. However, Tsunade’s younger brother, who was walking besides his grandma, asked if Orochimaru was sick.
Jiaraiya was prepared to answer for him, but for the first time since they arrived, Orochimaru lifted his head.
“I’m fine, Nawaki.” His voice was the loudest it had been in days. “Just tired.”
Tsunade noticed it when she first entered the boys’ bathroom— a section of Orochimaru’s hair was shorter than the rest. It didn’t return to her mind until she was brushing his hair as they rewatched a movie from Tsunade’s CD collection.
Tsunade let her fingers brush the ends of the shortened strands. It was a single, clean cut. Jiraiya’s eyes kept flickering over to her, and she felt compelled to accuse him of looking at her pervertedly, to let a sense of normality come back. Then they could bicker, and Orochimaru would tell them to stop being so immature, and this could all be a bad dream.
Her wrist could stop itching.
She tried to block out the image of two cooling bodies resting on a red stained floor. Don’t think about how their eyes were still open, one of their mouths open, like he was gasping for air. Don’t wonder if their families have noticed that they’re coming home late. There wasn’t any blood left on her, stop smelling it.
Focus on brushing out the tangles in Orochimaru’s long hair. Long except for one area. Those bastards cut it, didn’t they?
I’ll kill them , she reflexively thought. Her heart froze when she remembered that they were already dead.
Tsunade tried to discern Orochimaru’s expression from where she sat. It was a bad angle, only allowing her to see the side of his head.
Of the three of them, he must have felt the worst.
The harsh light of the television illuminated Orochimaru’s face well, but Jiraiya still couldn’t read him.
Although he was no longer shaking, Jiraiya and Tsunade put a blanket over his shoulders anyway. Orochinaru’s hands gripped the edge of it, reminding Jiraiya of the way he held onto those scissors.
Jiraiya tried to focus on what was playing on the screen, however, his mind continued to wander.
Not for the first time, he questioned whether he should’ve let Tsunade go get the Headmaster. Maybe his worries of Orochimaru losing his scholarship and being arrested were unfounded. Headmaster Tobirama could’ve been more sympathetic than Jiaraiya gave him credit for. Anyone could see that Orochimaru was provoked.
In the moment, letting Tsunade go felt like too much of a risk.
And those assholes deserved it, anyway. They were the worst of Konoha Academy’s elite students. They could get away with anything with the support and money of their families, and considered anyone poorer than them to be like dirt on their shoes.
Jiraiya reassured himself that all he did was protect a friend.
“I don’t regret it,” Orochimaru blurted out to the dark room.
He was resting against Jiraiya’s side while Tsunade was laying on the coach behind them. If anyone scolded Jiraiya and him for sleeping in Tsunade’s room instead of moving to a guest room, they'd just say they fell asleep while watching the movie. They had used that excuse so many times, Orochimaru was sure the adults had already caught on.
His golden eyes were the only ones still wide open, but he knew that he wasn’t the last one awake. Tsunade’s breathing was too irregular, and Jiraiya’s face was forcefully still.
No one would sleep soundly tonight.
Orochimaru’s hand returned to the edge of the blanket covering him. Rarely had he ever felt so alive. The anger that overtook him when he tackled the bully who cut his hair morphed into excitement as Orochimaru turned his own weapon against him.
By the time he finished cutting down the second one, he was trembling from the adrenaline.
Orochimaru felt some regret. He wished he had the opportunity to kill them slower, observe how they would squirm as he took them apart, piece by piece. He wished he had been collected enough to deal with the bodies without Tsunade and Jiraiya.
They were soft. He saw it from the concern in Jiraiya’s eyes as none of them paid attention to the movie. Or the way Tsunade continued to rub her wrist the entire night.
If they came to know how temporary a single life was like he did, would that softness melt away?
Orochimaru dispelled the dark thought from his head. He would not let something like that happen to his best and only friends.
Orochimaru placed one hand over Jiraiya’s, and held onto the hand Tsunade was dangling over the coach. “ I don’t regret it, so you guys don’t have to either.”
“Are there any disagreements with the plan to suspend all club activity for the week?”
Tsunade heard Hyuga-senpai sigh when multiple hands shot up. The frustration was mutual.
“Class 3-D representative, what concerns do you have?”
“I still think it’s too early. We have no confirmation that Natsukawa-san and Kekei-san are dead.”
“They’ve been missing for a week with no ransom demand,” a first year Uchiha cut in.
“Class 1-B representative, please wait until called to speak,” the Student Council President droned. “Class 3-D representative, we won’t be suspending club activities as an act of mourning, but instead as an act of support. Class 2-B representative, what concerns do you have?”
A week after what she had done, Tsunade’s heart still sped up at the mention of their names. She tuned out the rest of the pointless back and forth to focus on calming down.
Could they hear her incriminating heartbeats or still smell blood? Did someone already suspect her, Orochimaru, and Jiraiya? They were studying after school in a classroom just a few hallways away on that day. Maybe someone made a connection, or maybe someone saw Jiraiya walking with the bodies.
“General meeting adjourned. Representatives, please move to your project groups. Executive committee stay.”
Tsunade almost jumped out of her seat. The clock tower outside chimed four times as bored students left their seats in a flurry of activity. She bit her thumb. How did she let herself get so distracted?
“Senju-san, are you okay?” Hyuuga-senpai asked as people were still saying their goodbyes. “You’ve been unfocused today.”
“I’m fine,” she said, keeping her voice steady.
For a moment, she was worried he would press the issue or ask her to leave early to rest. Thankfully, he only stared at her for a moment, disbelief clear on his face, before returning to the meeting agenda.
Jiraiya hoped the chiming of the clock tower covered his sigh. He slouched further in his seat as the Newspaper Club’s Monday Meeting continued.
“I heard from my brother, who’s head of the investigation, that they suspect a student might be connected to the murderer.”
If it wasn’t for the paranoia circulating through his bloodstream, he wasn’t sure if he could’ve kept a neutral expression. For the last hour, all the club has talked about was how they were going to cover the disappearances in this week’s edition. If the circumstances were just a bit different, Jiraiya would’ve been one of the people swept up in the excitement of novelty.
“Mina-chan, we’re a newspaper, not a gossip rag. It hasn’t even been confirmed that they’re dead,” Club President, Kohari-senpai said. “But if you can schedule us an interview with your brother, that would be great.”
“Oh my goodness,” Mina suddenly exclaimed. “You guys don’t think…”
Kohari-senpai pinched the bridge of her nose. “What is it this time?”
“Well…” She leaned in closer, ready to share something scandalous. “Not to speak ill of the dead, but it’s no secret that Natsukawa and Kekei weren’t the most pleasant of people. In fact, they’ve even been accused of bullying.”
Jiraiya mentally pleaded for somebody, anybody, to stop this conversation. One by one, the members of the Newspaper Club understood the implications of Mina’s words.
Even Kohari-senpai’s eyes widened, and a hand shot up to cover her mouth. “It makes sense. He’d definitely have a motive.”
“You guys are just as bad as Natsukawa and Kekei! Targeting Oro cause he’s got no big shot family to back him up,” is what Jiraiya wished he said.
Instead, he continued to bite his tongue. In Konoha Academy’s social hierarchy, who you knew and were determined everything, and Jiraiya had no big shot family to back him up either.
“What is it this time?” Hyuuga-senpai grumbled when someone knocked in the middle of their meeting. “Come in.”
A first year sheepishly stuck their head into the meeting room. “Sorry. Um, the Headmaster wants Senju-senpai at his office.”
Tsunade's heart, which had just begun to relax, picked up speed again. She said a hushed goodbye to the fellow Student Council members before rushing out to meet her grand-uncle.
Her steps alternated between a half jog and lagged walking. She desperately wanted to delay this meeting, something she’s been dreading the entire week. But on the other hand, she didn’t want Tobirama to be annoyed at her for being late.
More than anything, she wanted to forget the red of blood against her skin.
In front of the Headmaster’s office, Tsunade paused to take a breath and steel her nerves.
Before her anxiety could entrap her any longer, she pulled open the large wooden doors. Maybe uncle wanted to talk to her about something other than that .
Or maybe he did. Because sitting across from Headmaster Tobirama was a man in a uniform.
“There you are.” He gave her a bare smile, something he reserved for family. “Tsuna, come sit. This is Detective Fujiwara. He just wanted to ask you a few questions. Detective Fujiwara, this is my brother’s granddaughter, Tsunade.”
The detective’s eyes darted from her to uncle, and after a moment of intense glaring, he looked away and scowled.
“We tend to do interrogations at the station, Headmaster.”
Any of the warmth Tobirama had mustered up for Tsunade disappeared from his eyes. “I hope my office isn’t too inconvenient, Detective. If you have any problems, I can talk to your superior about it.”
The detective folded, everyone did under Tobirama’s glare, and he pressed a button on the recording device on the Headmaster’s desk.
“Tsunade-chan—”
“She’s not much younger than you, Detective. Tsunade-san would be more appropriate.”
Uncle was on her side. Tsunade’s next breath came out a little bit easier, but her relief was only temporary. Senju Tobirama, and his power and protection, was on her side for now .
“Tsunade-san , can you describe what you were doing after school, last Monday.”
She unconsciously pulled on the sleeve of her blazer, trying to bring it over her wrist. “I was studying with some friends after our club activities were over. Then we all went to my house for the night.”
“Where were you studying?”
“In class 2-D. Sarutobi-sensei lets us study there after school.”
The detective’s strained smile relaxed and Tsunade wondered how her words managed to betray her already.
“Tell me about the friends you were studying with.”
The recording device continued to lightly whirl as it recorded silence.
Tobirama didn’t like using a fan unless absolutely necessary, so the windows were open to let in a breeze. Despite this, the air was perfectly still.
Tsunade’s mouth was dry, her head felt heavy. She hoped her poker face was better here than during her card games. She could not afford to lose this time.
“Ogata Jiraiya and Yashagoro Orochimaru.” The way his eyebrow rose at the mention of Orochimaru made her skin crawl. “They’re good friends.”
“Did either of them go somewhere on their own for a period of time?”
She wished the truthful answer was no.
“Try to remember, Tsunade-san.”
Remember. Tsunade didn’t have to remember anything because her mind could not let her forget.
A click, and the whirling sputtered to a stop. “I think that’s enough for today, Detective.”
“Headmaster—”
Tobirama cut him off again. “That’s enough for today. I’m sure you still remember where the exits are, but if you need some assistance, I’ll have a teacher escort you out.”
Detective Fujiwara left without another word.
Tsunade looked at her uncle, expecting him to dismiss her too. Tobirama did not look back at her. Instead, his red eyes were fixated on a small picture on the corner of his desk. The Senju family of over a decade ago smiled at him from inside the frame.
Sitting in the center of the photo, body thin from disease but smile as full as ever, was Grandpa. Tsunade wondered what he would say if he were here.
Would he scold her for holding Orochimaru’s place at Konoha over two lives? Would he urge her to tell the truth? Would he call her a disgrace to the Senju name?
Or, would he forgive her, let her lean against him and cry, even as he took his last breath?
The clock tower chimed five.
“Tsuna.” Those red eyes flickered up to her. “Did Yashagoro Orochimaru murder two students last Monday?”
Year 1- First Term
“Don’t let what you think you know about Orochimaru cloud your judgement.”
Jiraiya tried his best to block Sarutobi-sensei’s voice, but his words kept buzzing around his mind.
“I don’t see why he keeps trying to make us friends,” he mumbled to himself.
Orochimaru was a rude know it all who looked down on everyone— especially Jiraiya. Despite being new, a new scholarship student no less, he acted like he was superior to everyone, and always pointing out the smallest mistakes.
“It’s not my fault we don’t get along,” Jiraiya said to a small toad resting on a rock on the side of the path.
The toad hopped away. All toads move, and no toads understand human speech, but he couldn’t help but feel like it was disagreeing.
“You’re both equally annoying,” the voice of Tsunade sneered in his mind.
He continued down the long path that cut through the school gardens, and connected the High School to the Primary School. Soon, he heard the sound of running water.
Jiraiya came to a stop at the middle of the bridge and looked below at the creek. Standing in the middle of the water, his uniform completely soaked, was a student with long black hair.
“Hey, Yashagoro-kun,” Jiraiya called out with a smirk on his face. “Newbies might not know this, but it’s against the rules to go in the creek.”
Not so perfect, are you Orochimaru? Jiraiya was already imagining how disappointed Sarutobi-sensei would be that his “star pupil” was doing something so juvenile.
Jiraiya was fully prepared to stare off against his “rival” as Orochimaru’s head turned halfway.
On his earlobe, instead of his usual earring dangling, blood dripped.
Without a single word, Orochimaru turned back to the water, and crouched down, searching.
Jiraiya’s hands stayed glued on the railing, feet ready to move away. This wasn’t his problem. To survive in Konoha you mind your own business, especially if you don’t have the money to shield yourself from whatever shit comes next.
There was a splash of red in the clear water.
Jiraiya took two steps back, dropped his bag, and jumped in.
“I’m telling you guys, I know Yashagoro was the one who killed them.”
Jiraiya halted. He was still hidden behind a corner, it wasn’t too late to turn around. Maybe pretend that he forgot something in the club room, or compliment Kohari-senpai’s new haircut before she leaves. It would be classic Jiraiya, the fool and the flirt.
The clock tower chimed five.
“I think we all know that the slimy creep is the murderer, Mina-chan.”
“That’s so mean Hiruko-kun!” a third voice scolded while giggling.
“I didn’t know telling the truth was against the rules now.”
More laughter from the group.
Standing in the shadows, the worst part was that Jiraiya remembered when he would be one of the people laughing along.
“Honestly, know-it-all should’ve been expelled last year after what he did to Iburi-senpai.”
“Too bad he’s a teacher’s pet.”
Jiraiya took a step back, remembered to stay calm, and…
“I don’t see why Jiraiya-kun puts up with him.”
“Cause unlike you guys, he isn’t a gossiping asshole.”
A hush fell over the group as Jiraiya turned the corner, and stormed past them. Mina began to defend herself, twist her words so that he was the one who misinterpreted them, but Jiraiya heard no word of it.
Later, as he spent another restless night forgetting the color of fresh blood, Jiraiya would wonder if he should’ve swallowed his words.
But in that moment, as he walked down Konoha’s sunlight flooded hall, Jiraiya only wondered if there was time to visit Orochimaru before the day ended.
Year 1- Summer Break
“C’mon sweetheart. Don’t be shy.”
Tsunade rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses, and pushed past him to the parking lot. “Fuck off creep.”
She checked her watch. Already midnight; her driver was late. Maybe she should cut his bribe for this, but she also had to balance it with the threat of him telling her family of her… hobby.
“Oi, don’t ignore me.” When she proceeded to ignore him, he lunged for her arm, only to get backhanded.
Tsunade watched him drunkenly stumble backwards with disgust. The easy entrance with her fake ID might not be worth the desperate scums lurking around every corner of this casino.
Something cool pressed against her neck.
“Not so tough are you?”
Shit.
Tsunade’s own knife weighed down her bag, begging her to make a move. His blade dug further into her skin and her thoughts froze.
God, she was a fool. All of her martial arts training, her weapon, her sharp wit and confidence failed her right when she needed it.
Suddenly, the pressure against her neck disappeared, and the blade clanged against the floor as the drunkard cursed.
“Are you deaf? She said to leave her alone.”
Hearing that unexpected voice shocked Tsunade out of her paralysis. She turned around just in time to see the drunkard punch Orochimaru’s face. He stumbled and returned the hit with a strike of his own.
The drunkard fell to the ground and didn’t get back up.
Without another word, Orochimaru brushed some dust off of his uniform (it looked like the ones convenience store workers wore in the movies Tsunade watched) and walked past her.
“This is the address Miss.”
Tsunade looked up at the wash-out-grey building which looked as depressing as the surrounding streets. She almost stepped into a dark puddle as she exited her ride. She hoped her driver stayed safe. This looked like an area where a decent car would attract the wrong attention.
2-23, 2-24, 2-25. After double checking the note she copied from Tobirama’s files, Tsunade knocked on the door labeled with the rusty metal numbers 2-26.
For a few moments, she wondered if anyone was home. Then, there was a series of clicks, and the door swung open.
“What are you doing here?”
Tsunade winced at the dark bruise that took up Orochimaru’s left cheek and his split lip. The purple and red were especially prominent against his pale skin.
She reached into her bag, and held out a tin of salve to Orochimaru. Made with only the best ingredients, and the one Grandma always recommended for the quickest recovery. However, Tsunade wondered if Orochimaru’s face would heal before the start of next term even with the salve.
Giving it wasn’t why she came though.
“Don’t tell anyone what happened last night,” Tsunade said with the harshest stare she could muster.
Orochimaru took the tin. “Don’t worry. Have a good day.”
Tsunade swiftly caught the closing door with a single hand. “Name your price. I’ll meet it.”
Orochimaru laughed and her grip tightened, breaking the wood under her palm. “What’s so funny?”
The door swung out a bit more, and his battered face came into view. “Do you remember what you said the day before we went on break?”
Was this a trick question? She didn’t have time to play any mind games.
“You don’t?” For only a moment, his lips twitched into a frown, before settling back into his usual not quite smile.
“You said we could be friends.”
Tsunade hesitantly nodded as her eyes narrowed. She remembered that. In front of Sarutobi-sensei’s classroom, where the grades for his group projects were posted, she laughed and told Orochimaru and Jiraiya that maybe they could be friends.
“What does that have to do with this?”
“Did Yashagoro Orochimaru murder two students last Monday?”
“Maybe I’m not understanding this correctly…”
Tsunade looked Tobirama right in the eye. The choice had already been made as she wiped a dead boy’s blood off of Orochimaru’s hands.
“… but don’t friends protect each other?”
Year 1- Term Three
Headmaster Senju was the most terrifying person Orochimaru had ever met.
People were puzzles of emotion and reason, difficult but possible to decode. Sarutobi-sensei, sitting beside him, was furious. Not at Orochimaru, he never was, but at the rich couple sitting on his other side. Mr. and Mrs. Iburi were easy to read too. They sneered at him when he entered Headmaster Senju’s office. To them, he was the scum beneath their shoes.
However, Orochimaru could not see what lay behind Headmaster Senju’s red eyes.
“Excuse me, but I thought this would be a conversation between adults,” Iburi-san said. She clutched her pocketbook tighter, and Orochimaru wanted to roll his eyes at her dramatics.
Her husband nodded. “Senju-san, we didn’t come all this way to waste time waiting.”
Time wasted. As if they didn’t take a private plane here and spent their days standing around and talking about nothings as their subordinates did all of the work.
Sarutobi-sensei sighed, his longing for his pipe evident to his student. “Unfortunately, Orochimaru-kun’s parents won’t be able to attend—”
“Why not?” Her cheeks began to flush with anger. “We will not be disrespected like this! Senju-san, how can you accept a student into this esteemed academy whose parents don’t even have the decency to arrive at important meetings?”
Once Iburi-san’s insulted stammering ended, the Headmaster finally spoke. “After reviewing the evidence, I have decided that Yashagoro-kun will not be expelled from Konoha Academy. If there isn’t anymore to discuss, please exit my office.”
“He struck my son!”
Orochimaru restrained himself from scoffing at the hypocrisy of the Iburi couple. They dared to insult his parents when they were entitled grown children.
“I will not have shouting in my office, Iburi-san.” Headmaster said coolly, “It is very clear that your son provoked Yashagoro-kun, and if you would like to prevent such an incident from happening again, I recommend that you instead turn your attention to your son.”
Orochimaru made sure to return the sneer to the Iburi couple as they exited the office.
“That’s the end of that, correct?”
Sarutobi-sensei nodded as he lit his pipe. A trail of smoke snaked through the air as he sighed. “Sorry about that.”
“No harm done.” Although it was a shame that he was missing Kendo Club again. The Club President had threatened to kick him out if he kept missing meetings. A part of Orochimaru wanted to just quit so he could focus on working after school.
Their footsteps echoed throughout Konoha Academy’s main hall. Orochimaru’s eyes, even after nearly a year of attending the prestigious school, were drawn to the ornamentations and glittering designs. They reminded Orochimaru of how far he had come, and how much further he had to go. He had earned a place in this other world, but it was still not yet his.
He knew that after his three years at Konoha Academy it would still not be his. However, Orochimaru's plans were not so small because outside of these golden walls were what really mattered.
With that thought, Orochimaru pushed open the front doors.
“Oro! Orochimaru. Over here!”
Konoha Academy was just another rung in the ladder for Orochimaru, yet there they were. Waiting at the bottom of the marble stairs, Jiraiya yelled for his attention as Tsunade cooly leaned against the newel post, her smirk teasing Orochimaru for ever being worried.
Orochimaru took one hesitant step forward before running the rest of the way down.
Orochimaru’s thumb brushed the ends of his hair. Tsunade had cut it to his shoulders the morning after, the shortest it had been since his parents died.
He wondered how she and Jiraiya were doing.
They still thought he went to the Kendo Club on the days he didn’t have work. Orochimaru would have to tell them the truth soon, but he intended to keep up the ruse for as long as possible.
The blue sky was broken with streaks of orange from the setting sun, and the night’s chill had already set. But Orochimaru paid no attention to any of it as he climbed up the rough stairs that snaked around the apartment building.
“Stop knocking. If he hasn’t answered yet, he’s out.”
“I know that!”
“Then put your hand down.”
Orochimaru laughed, betraying his location behind the bickering Jiraiya and Tsunade. Lately, their eyes light up in a way that was troubling when they saw him. Their stares linger for longer than surprise could explain.
He opened the door. “Come in.”
Orochimaru’s apartment was the place they hung out in the least. Tsunade had a suite of a multimillion dollar mansion just for her. Jiraiya’s parents were never home, so they usually had the house to themselves. Orochimaru had a cramped apartment where the heat didn’t always work, the walls were thin, and the neighbors were loud.
“Soup ramen or stir fry ramen today?” Orochimaru asked while he tidied up the kitchen counter.
When neither Tsunade or Jiraiya answered, he took out the soup type.
The water reached boiling point.
“What’s wrong?”
They both flinched.
“Nothing,” Jiraiya muttered. Tsunade smiled. Maybe it was supposed to be reassuring, but it felt mocking to Orochimaru.
Were they disgusted by him? Orochimaru knew contempt well. Children pulling on his hair and asking if he was a girl. Distant relatives and “friends” of his parents turning him away after he was orphaned. The jealous whispers of pampered children in Konoha’s halls.
Senju Tsunade was just supposed to be a connection, an ally perhaps. And Ogata Jiraiya was supposed to be nobody.
Sometime in the past year Orochimaru made a mistake. He let them get close, he gave them power. He let himself hope that they could truly be friends. Now, he smiled not only for himself anymore, but for them too.
Things like that—friendship, trust, promises— they were fleeting illusions. Life itself could disappait in a single moment. Orochimaru saw those possible dangers clearly. Tsunade had a family, a legacy, and a dream. Jiraiya had a golden heart and pride. For those reasons and a million others, they could betray him.
But he wanted to believe. He finished preparing their food and placed it on his one rickety table. They said their thanks and he wanted to believe their bonds could never be severed.