Chapter 39: Serpent's Cunning
The sight of the two precious scrolls igniting in Kagenori's hands sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated fury through Uchiha Fugaku. His composure, carefully maintained, shattered for an instant. Though these were only copies, their value was immense. The Fire Release scroll contained generations of Uchiha refinement on techniques like the Great Fireball, Blazing Destruction, and Dragon Flame Projectile. The true treasure, however, was the Sharingan treatise—a detailed guide on harnessing the power of the single to triple tomoe Sharingan, a clan secret of the highest order.
And this boy had not just rejected it; he had set it ablaze. It was a deliberate, contemptuous slap to the entire Uchiha name.
Fugaku's chest heaved, his breath coming in sharp gusts as he glared at the smirking boy leaning against the doorframe.
Kagenori watched him, his expression never shifting from its mask of cold mockery.
With a monumental effort of will, Fugaku forced air into his lungs, mastering the rage that threatened to consume him. He would not give this half-breed the satisfaction of seeing an Uchiha lose control.
"Since you are unwilling to accept the goodwill of the Uchiha clan," Fugaku said, his voice strained but level, "then I apologize for the disturbance."
He turned to leave, his back rigid with suppressed emotion.
Kagenori's eyes, sharp and analytical, tracked him. This Uchiha was different. Any other clansman would have drawn a kunai by now. The fact that he had come alone, that he could absorb such a direct insult and still remain outwardly calm, spoke of a position and temperament far above the common brawlers. A spark of curiosity cut through Kagenori's contempt.
"Hey," he called out, his voice cutting through the morning air. "What's your name?"
Fugaku stopped, but did not turn. "Uchiha... Fugaku."
Then he continued walking, not granting him another glance.
A slow, cynical smile spread across Kagenori's face.
Uchiha Fugaku. The future clan head. The father of Itachi and Sasuke.
The sarcasm in his eyes deepened. "You really will father two... interesting sons," he muttered to the retreating back.
In Kagenori's view, the future actions of Uchiha Itachi were not the noble sacrifice so many believed. Choosing to sacrifice a minority to save a majority might seem like a form of justice, but the target of Itachi's blade was not some abstract enemy. It was his own people. His blood. His family. His "loyalty" to Konoha, his "justice," was built upon the betrayal and slaughter of every person who shared his name. It was a profound sin, made heavier by the bonds he severed.
If Itachi had only killed the coup plotters, or if he had the conviction to finish the job and kill Sasuke too, Kagenori might have acknowledged a twisted form of resolve. But he didn't. He and his accomplice slaughtered everyone—men, women, children—sparing only his beloved little brother. That single act of sentimentality turned the entire massacre into a grotesque farce. Uchiha Itachi was no hero; he was a brainwashed pawn, a hypocrite who convinced himself his atrocity was for the greater good while ensuring his own brother lived with the trauma.
Truly a hopeless clan, Kagenori thought, capable of orchestrating their own destruction without any outside help.
He was about to return to his training when a smooth, familiar voice slithered from the shadows. "You are quite the clever one, Kagenori."
Kagenori turned to see Orochimaru leaning against a tree, a thin, appreciative smile on his lips.
Kagenori grinned back, a genuine expression of shared cunning. "When someone offers you a gift for free, it's foolish not to take it. The Uchiha's Fire Release and their Sharingan insights will be very useful to me."
He held up his hands. In them were the two scrolls, perfectly intact.
The scrolls he had burned were blank decoys, swiftly swapped from his ninja tool pouch during the moment Fugaku had turned his back. The lightning-charged heat had been a convincing illusion, a performance designed to cement the Uchiha's belief in his irredeemable hostility.
Orochimaru uncrossed his arms and walked forward. "Aren't you concerned the Uchiha will make trouble for you later?"
"Not in the slightest," Kagenori replied, tucking the real scrolls safely away. He smiled brightly at his sensei. "After all, we have you, Orochimaru-sensei. Besides... the fact that Fugaku came to apologize on behalf of the clan means the Uchiha are in a precarious position. They want to use me to establish a connection with you."
Orochimaru let out a low chuckle. "Heh. Your political sense is sharp. But what you truly mean is they wish to invest in your future and establish a link to the Hokage, who is my teacher."
Kagenori's smile didn't falter. "I never said that, Sensei."
Orochimaru didn't press further, instead gesturing toward the base. "Come. My time is limited. After I take you to Ryuchi Cave today and devise your training regimen, I will be away for some time."
Kagenori followed him down into the sterile, dimly lit office.
Orochimaru began his explanation, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. "The Summoning Technique is a space-time ninjutsu. It requires a blood contract between the summoner and the summoned creature. Blood is the medium that allows the creature to identify its caller. The signatory leaves a blood mark on the contract scroll, and once authenticated, the summoning can be performed."
He held up a hand. "In practice, you stain your palm with blood, focus your chakra and the blood on the hand used to sign the contract, and use it as the conduit. The hand seals are: Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey, and Ram. The strength of the creature you summon is dependent on the amount of chakra you expend. More chakra allows for a more powerful summon."
Orochimaru bit his thumb, drew the blood across his right palm, and weaved the signs with practiced ease.
"Summoning Jutsu!"
A large puff of smoke erupted in the room. As it cleared, a massive, sleek blue snake with intelligent, slitted eyes lay coiled before Kagenori, its scales glistening in the low light.