"Ugh… here we go again."
Orochimaru let out a long, helpless sigh, his golden eyes narrowing as he watched his teammates descend—once again—into their eternal cycle of childish squabbles.
On one side, Tsunade stood with her hands on her hips, her chest rising and falling with barely contained irritation. On the other side, Jiraiya waved his arms dramatically, already red in the face as he tried to get the last word in.
The two of them had been bickering ever since they left the Hokage's office. Orochimaru had stopped keeping track of what the argument was even about—something trivial, as usual. A spilled drink? Who had overslept that morning? Whether Jiraiya's latest book draft was "genius" or "garbage"? None of it mattered. They would argue regardless.
"By the way," Orochimaru muttered under his breath, rubbing the edge of the purple scarf around his neck, "what exactly am I doing on this mission to the Land of Waves? Am I escorting goods? Selling my own company's products? Making my own money? Or is this a commission Konoha takes a cut from? Tch…"
He shook his head. None of the details had been explained clearly. It was all very suspicious.
Meanwhile, the argument between Tsunade and Jiraiya had grown loud enough to make the guards at Konoha's gate stop what they were doing and stare.
The two chūnin guards exchanged a look. The younger one swallowed nervously. "Uh… they're not gonna fight again, are they?"
The older guard scratched his head, remembering the last time. "If they do, it'll be ugly. Didn't you hear? Jiraiya got sent flying halfway across the training grounds when Tsunade punched him. They say she didn't even use full strength that time."
As if on cue, Jiraiya leaned a little too close, wagging a finger in Tsunade's face.
Her fist tightened.
The guards winced.
"...This might be the time he flies straight over the wall," one whispered.
Before things escalated, Orochimaru tugged lightly on his scarf and stepped forward. His voice, calm but firm, cut through the noise.
"Tsunade. Jiraiya. We should get going."
The two guards immediately straightened. They had seen all three of the Legendary Sannin up close before, but something about Orochimaru's presence carried a different weight. His tone left no room for argument.
The pale shinobi strode toward the gate, his scarf fluttering faintly in the breeze, and signaled to the guards to open the way.
Tsunade's temper cooled almost instantly. She noticed the scarf wrapped around Orochimaru's neck—the very one she had once given him. Her lips softened into a faint smile, almost girlish, and her steps lightened as she followed after him.
---
Unexpected Popularity
"Um… Orochimaru-sama, c-could you give me an autograph?"
One of the gate guards, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, awkwardly pulled out a clean autograph board he had prepared in advance. His hands shook as he held it out.
Orochimaru blinked. "…An autograph?"
But his expression didn't falter. He took the board and signed his name with neat, flowing strokes.
The guard's eyes shone as he accepted it back, bowing repeatedly.
The second guard quickly scrambled to pull out his board—already tucked inside his pouch just in case. "Sign mine too, please!"
Orochimaru sighed faintly but obliged, adding his signature with a flourish.
"Thank you so much!" the guard said, clutching the signed board as if it were priceless treasure.
This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Lately, Orochimaru had noticed a strange trend: villagers, merchants, even shinobi treating him as if he were a celebrity. They followed him, whispered his name, asked for autographs.
He couldn't understand it. He wasn't a singer or an actor. He was a shinobi.
"Truly popular," one of the guards murmured in awe.
Jiraiya watched with his jaw hanging open. His eyes darted between Orochimaru and the glowing guards, and his entire face twisted in envy.
Why is he the one getting the fans?!
A lewd little grin spread across Jiraiya's lips as his imagination ran wild. He pictured himself surrounded by curvy women, all pressing against him, begging for his signature, clinging to his arms, giggling as they fought for his attention.
"Pervert! You're definitely thinking something disgusting!"
Wham!
Tsunade's fist came crashing down on his head, cutting his fantasy short. Jiraiya yelped, clutching his skull in pain.
"Tsunade, you devil! Don't go too far!" he whined, glaring at her.
"What'll you do if I go too far, huh? Want me to punch you in the face next?" she shot back, raising her fist threateningly.
The guards stepped back nervously. Orochimaru pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, "Here we go again…"
---
Orochimaru's Concerns
Truth be told, he wasn't worried about their safety. He knew the strength of both Tsunade and Jiraiya well enough. They were reckless, yes, but their talent was undeniable.
What concerned him was something else entirely: their mission.
This wasn't a simple escort. Their target wasn't just goods—it was Orochimaru's company's products. The White Snake Pharmaceutical Technology Company had attracted attention from all corners of the continent. Rival organizations coveted the goods. Bandits, mercenaries, even shinobi clans were willing to intercept shipments.
On paper, the mission was about protecting merchandise. But Orochimaru knew better. Goods could be replaced. Lives could not.
"Duty is important," he thought quietly, tugging at his scarf. "But human life matters more."
---
At the Root Base
Bang!
A sharp slam echoed through the underground chamber of Root's headquarters. Danzo Shimura's hand smashed onto the table, scattering reports, scrolls, and ink brushes to the floor.
His single eye burned with fury as he jabbed a finger toward Hiruzen Sarutobi, who sat across from him with maddening calm.
"Hiruzen! Impossible! I will never accept this!"
"Danzo, let me finish," Hiruzen said, his voice level, though his patience was clearly thinning.
He had expected this outburst. Danzo's pride was predictable, almost tedious.
"The nobles of the Land of Fire are the ones demanding this medicinal tea," Hiruzen explained. "You use Shimura clan funds to train Root's shinobi. If that continues unchecked, dissatisfaction within your clan is inevitable. This—" he tapped a scroll on the desk, "—is the solution."
Danzo's face twisted with contempt. "You want me to persuade the Aburame clan? The Uchiha clan? Hiruzen, is this a joke?"
The very thought was offensive. Him, approaching the Uchiha? It was absurd.
But Hiruzen's gaze was steady. "You're the Assistant Hokage, Danzo. Don't you want to accomplish something greater?"
The words hit their mark. Danzo clenched his fists, a shadow passing over his features.
Of course he wanted greatness. Everything he had done—funding Root, supporting research, training operatives in secrecy—was to prove himself. To show Tobirama-sensei that he had chosen the wrong successor. To prove that he, not Hiruzen, should have been Hokage.
But medicinal tea? Could something so trivial really be the key?
"Does anyone truly want this much tea?" he asked skeptically. "Any doctor can brew a tonic. Why would nobles pay fortunes for it?"
Hiruzen leaned forward. His voice dropped.
"The formula was developed by Orochimaru."
Danzo froze. "…Orochimaru?"
In that moment, understanding dawned. If it came from Orochimaru, then of course it would be extraordinary.
Danzo exhaled through his nose, his shoulders stiff. "Very well. I'll persuade the Aburame and Uchiha. But in exchange—my Shimura clan will claim the larger share of profits."
Hiruzen's pipe twitched in his hand. "Greedy as ever. I'll concede a quarter of the Sarutobi share. Nothing more."
"Deal," Danzo said instantly, satisfied. Even that small advantage over Hiruzen was enough to make his chest swell with pride.
---
The Clan Leaders Arrive
Not long after, two figures arrived at the Hokage Building under the cover of night.
Aburame Shisuke, the Aburame clan head, stepped silently from the shadows, his face hidden behind high-collared garments and dark glasses. Beside him, Uchiha Hikaji walked with upright dignity, suspicion flickering in his eyes.
They met at the door of the conference room.
"Hikaji," Shisuke greeted, his tone flat.
"Shisuke," Hikaji replied curtly. Neither trusted the other.
Together, they entered. Inside, they found Hiruzen and Danzo waiting. The two elder statesmen of Konoha… smiling faintly.
Neither Shisuke nor Hikaji could have guessed why they'd been summoned. They expected a lecture on the Military Police, or reprimands for clan disputes. Instead, they were offered… a business proposition.
"Medicinal tea?" Shisuke repeated.
"Profitable medicinal tea," Danzo corrected, his voice dripping with forced confidence.
Both clan heads exchanged doubtful looks. Medicinal tea hardly sounded like a venture worth involving two great clans. But Danzo's insistence—and Hiruzen's quiet, knowing expression—forced them to reconsider.
Hikaji thought of his clan's struggles. Many Uchiha without shinobi talent had no clear path forward. Work like this could help them.
Shisuke thought of the kikaichu. Breeding insects required resources—always more resources. Selling byproducts for medicine could sustain the clan.
After a moment of silence, both nodded. "…We agree."
Danzo smirked smugly at Hiruzen. See? Simple.
But Hiruzen only puffed his pipe, smiling faintly. In truth, Danzo had just walked into his trap.
"Someday," Hiruzen thought, "I hope Danzo realizes the truth."
---
Journey to the Land of Waves
Far from Konoha's intrigue, the Sannin stood at the coast, the sea breeze tugging at their cloaks. The Land of Waves lay across the glittering waters, small but bustling.
They boarded a trading ship, blending in among merchants carrying crates of White Snake-brand skincare and medical supplies. Other ships dotted the waters, all bound for the same port.
"It's the same everywhere," Orochimaru noted, watching the horizon. "Buy low in Konoha, sell high abroad."
Jiraiya leaned against the rail. "I just hope we don't run into trouble. I'm not calling Gamabunta again. Last time I nearly drowned."
"Ha! Serves you right," Tsunade scoffed, crossing her arms. "Maybe if your mouth wasn't so unlucky—"
"Unlucky?! Lord Jiraiya's mouth has charmed countless maidens!"
"You dare say that with a straight face?!"
Their bickering echoed across the deck. Orochimaru pinched the bridge of his nose once more.
The boatman, watching the three teenagers argue, shook his head in disbelief. These are supposed to be elite ninja? They look like children on a field trip.
By the time the ship docked at the Land of Waves, the port was alive with activity. Goods flowed steadily from ships to warehouses, guarded by squads of shinobi. Many wore the crests of the Hyuga and Uchiha clans.
Tsunade's eyes widened. "So many escorts?"
"It seems White Snake Pharmaceutical has expanded," Orochimaru said softly, his gaze falling on a tall building near the docks. A massive logo of a coiled white serpent gleamed across its facade.
It was the company's headquarters. Behind it stretched an even larger processing plant, smoke rising from its chimneys.
The Land of Waves had changed. Where once stood rickety shacks, now stood sturdy homes. Streets were busier, cleaner.
And all of it traced back to one company—the White Snake Pharmaceutical Technology Company.
---
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