The spring moonlight was faint, barely illuminating the night.
The snow that had just melted released a biting chill into the air as temperatures shifted after dark.
Inside Konoha's training grounds, the scene was one of quiet destruction.
The training equipment lay in shattered pieces, and several branches of the large tree used for target practice had been cleanly severed.
On either side of the rugged old trunk, two figures stood facing each other from a distance.
Under the moonlight, their shadows stretched across the ground—one tall, one small, an oddly mismatched pair.
Yet the aura they exuded was the same.
Wild.
Untamed.
Hakken Yoru and Orochimaru.
With the Kusanagi sword in hand, Orochimaru's face showed nothing but admiration.
Unparalleled swordsmanship.
Though the boy relied on only a single form of attack, it was devastatingly effective.
To bring the art of the sword to such a level—only one man in Orochimaru's memory had ever done it.
Sakumo Hatake, the man known as Konoha's White Fang.
A man whose strength could rival that of the Hokage himself.
But years ago, Konoha's White Fang had died—driven to his death by the very village he protected.
And now, this boy standing before him brought that man vividly to mind.
His swordsmanship was exquisite, but different.
White Fang's blade was one that killed.
The boy's blade, however, was wild and unrestrained.
At times, it flowed as freely as the wind; at others, it struck with the destructive power of thunder.
What Orochimaru saw in Hakken was a sharp, unstoppable force—a ferocity that drove him forward without hesitation.
A style of endless strikes, fighting to the death without ever showing his back.
It was strange. He was just a child, yet dealing with him was this troublesome.
Glancing at the moon, Orochimaru roughly gauged the time and let out a quiet sigh.
To be honest, swordsmanship had never been his strength.
Though he had once trained under White Fang for a brief time, his body was better suited for ninjutsu. Swordplay had never come naturally to him.
Right now, he was confident that if he went all out, he could capture the boy quickly—but doing so would surely alert Konoha's barrier team.
The Living Corpse Reincarnation was still in its final phase, and some of his crucial data hadn't yet been moved from the base. Drawing attention from the higher-ups would be reckless.
He had no choice but to withdraw—for now.
But this retreat was only temporary.
The existence of Hakken Yoru had ignited a powerful curiosity within him.
The greater the potential the boy revealed, the more Orochimaru's interest grew.
In fact, a thought began to take root in his mind.
"Hah... I admit, Hakken-kun, I underestimated you."
Taking a deep breath, Orochimaru's killing intent dissipated. A wicked smile crept across his face as he sheathed the Kusanagi sword.
Hakken-kun.
A polite address. Orochimaru never bothered to hide his admiration when he found someone intriguing.
Just as, when he set his eyes on someone, he would openly say, "I've taken an interest in your body."
That was Orochimaru—never concealing his ambitions, never caring who knew them.
In his eyes, there was only one pursuit worth everything: research.
"But Hakken-kun, my interest in you has only grown."
A flash of greed crossed Orochimaru's eyes as he extended his hand. "Tell me, would you consider becoming a Missing-nin?"
"Come with me. Leave this hypocritical village behind."
It was a question without logic or reason—yet he asked it, eager, almost desperate, to hear Hakken's answer.
"You're not afraid I'll go to the Hokage and expose your plans to betray the village?"
Hakken asked with a cold smirk.
"You won't," Orochimaru replied, his smile twisting with mockery. "Because the secrets hidden within your body are no fewer than mine."
Everyone liked to believe this village was bathed in warmth and sunshine. But after all his years in Konoha, Orochimaru knew better than most how rotten it was beneath the surface.
If the higher-ups—even Danzō—ever discovered the true power Hakken concealed, this boy's life would turn into a living nightmare.
That much was certain.
Konoha had never tolerated power beyond its control.
"What do you say? Leave this place, and you'll find a far wider world waiting for you. You'll realize just how narrow your view of things has been."
"Hakken-kun, are you interested in becoming a Missing-nin?"
Orochimaru asked again, his tone almost coaxing.
"Missing-nin? Betray who? Konoha?"
Hakken chuckled softly. "This village has nothing to do with me. The brief shelter I have here is nothing more than a pitiful luxury bought with my parents' lives."
"This village never deserved my trust—so what is there to betray?"
"Mr. Snake, you wouldn't actually take pride in being a Missing-nin, would you? And tell me—leaving Konoha to pursue your own dreams, is that really betrayal? If one must betray, then do it properly."
"Destroy it… or be destroyed by it."
You wouldn't take pride in being a Missing-nin, would you?
Destroy it, or be destroyed by it.
It—was Konoha.
What kind of perspective must a child have to speak such words?
Orochimaru suddenly fell silent.
To betray the village—or to be betrayed by it.
The word "Missing-nin" carried far more meaning than most realized.
But betrayal… betrayal couldn't be defined so easily. Was leaving the village to chase one's own path truly treason?
He said nothing.
The Kusanagi sword slid back into his sleeve. The ever-composed, ever-proud Orochimaru suddenly felt a hollow ache of disinterest.
Just moments ago, he had felt satisfaction over the progress of his defection plan.
But now, the boy's words had left him momentarily adrift, questioning.
The things he had always valued… suddenly felt meaningless.
Turning with his hands clasped behind his back, Orochimaru started toward his laboratory, intending to calm his thoughts.
But just as he turned away, Hakken's voice echoed from behind him.
"Maybe, when I can no longer stay in this village, I'll come find you."
Was that his answer?
A glint of sharp light flashed in Orochimaru's eyes.
"Don't worry," he said quietly. "That day will come."
"A person like you will never be caged by something as small as Konoha. Your wildness doesn't belong here."
"However, Hakken-kun…"
His gaze sharpened. Orochimaru spun back around, his face twisting into something feral as he fixed his eyes on the boy—the one whose few words had so easily unsettled him.
"When that time comes, be careful of me."
"Because…"
"I won't be able to resist the urge to kill you."
...
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