"I just had a very bold idea."
Amamiya Kenichi stared at the trembling kunoichi, a strange smile slowly spreading across his face.
He knew enough about Living Corpse Reincarnation.
The soul moves.
The body is taken over.
The shell stays exactly the same—only the occupant changes.
So…
If he could one day study the nature of souls, then reverse the process—
Let the body reshape the soul instead of the other way around…
What kind of "Sensei" would he end up with?
A terrifying list of terms flashed through Kenichi's brain in rapid succession.
"Brainwashing," "gender identity collapse," "stockholm mother complex," "reformed villain route"…
Yeah. This road went to places.
Of course, for now it was just a thought experiment. Souls were still too mysterious. He hadn't even scratched the surface of that field.
And if Orochimaru found out his disciple was planning a "soul reform project" for him…
That would be the day he got turned into the cute girl.
And not in a fun way.
The experiment ended soon after.
The remaining three shinobi were taken away—jōnin and kunoichi included.
Kenichi didn't ask where they were going.
If Sensei had plans, he didn't need to know. Not yet.
He simply followed Orochimaru out of the lab.
"These days, you and Kakashi seem to be getting along quite well."
Orochimaru glanced sideways at his disciple as they walked, voice casual, tone unreadable.
"Yeah. I've already mastered his Chidori."
Kenichi answered neatly.
He wasn't hiding it. He was very interested in Kakashi's jutsu.
Even more interested in Kakashi's Sharingan.
He'd already made up his mind.
The night of the Nine-Tails' attack—that would be the moment he took Kakashi's eye.
The problem wasn't taking it. That part he was confident about.
The problem was: what happens after.
Once the Fourth Hokage dies and the Third returns, a jōnin like Kakashi losing his Sharingan would definitely trigger an investigation.
Unless he could disable Kakashi instantly and cleanly—no memory, no witnesses.
And on that kind of night, the village's future elite would likely be protected, not left to fend for themselves.
He'd need a solid plan.
Kenichi's eyes slid briefly toward his teacher.
Orochimaru, a true monster among shinobi, could easily restrain Kakashi if he was willing to help.
But involving Sensei at all would drag him into the aftermath.
The more people who knew, the messier it became.
Besides, who knew what Orochimaru himself would be doing that night?
"Hatake's clan is decent. But Sharingan or not, it's still an external power." Orochimaru's tone was faint, almost dismissive. "He'd be better off focusing on his family's kenjutsu."
He didn't think much of Kakashi's dependency on that eye.
Yes, Sharingan was powerful.
But it bled his chakra dry every day.
A tool that weakened its user long-term—that had no value in Orochimaru's eyes.
Kenichi shrugged.
"Kakashi really values his bond with Obito."
He had tried to persuade Kakashi, gently, to consider closing the Sharingan more often.
Kakashi refused.
"Friendship…" Orochimaru let out a short, cold laugh.
That single word dragged up the shadows of another past—
Jiraiya. Tsunade. The "Legendary Sannin."
Teammates, comrades, "friends."
Whatever they were now… it wasn't simple.
Kenichi lowered his gaze, mind already running ahead again.
He'd considered taking Kakashi's eye before the Nine-Tails incident.
But without the disaster, the village wouldn't be in chaos.
Security wouldn't be stretched thin.
Every ripple would be visible.
The Nine-Tails' rampage was the perfect smokescreen.
Elite combat power would all be pulled to the front lines.
And Kenichi had spent months cultivating his connection with Kakashi. Getting close to him in the confusion wouldn't be hard.
A sudden, precise ambush.
Knock him out. Extract the eye. Disappear.
Even monsters like Madara had been taken out by a sneak attack straight to the chest. No one was untouchable.
Of course, he'd also prepared a backup plan:
If necessary, he'd push Orochimaru to make his move that very same night—
Defect from the village while everything burned.
If Orochimaru turned rogue that night, all eyes would be on him.
Compared to a Kage-level traitor, one missing Sharingan was nothing.
"The more I think about it… the better that option sounds."
He filed it away as a contingency.
"Sensei, are we going to bring some tobacco for the Third again today?"
Kenichi smiled, looking entirely like a dutiful student asking a casual question.
"Yes. Of course." Orochimaru's lips curved upward. "If he goes a day without smoking, I feel… uncomfortable."
His good mood practically leaked from his eyes.
In recent days, this little ritual had become one of his main sources of joy.
Every time he watched Hiruzen smoke, his mood improved.
Every time he saw Danzō and the other old fossils sitting nearby, peacefully sucking in second-hand smoke, he felt even better.
Despite Hiruzen's constant vigilance, he'd lost the war on information.
Orochimaru had already planted something gentle, tiny, and very patient in the lungs of the former Hokage and several elders:
Early-stage lung cancer.
Not enough to kill them.
Not enough to trigger alarms in a basic check-up.
Just… the first seeds.
He'd put in a lot of effort to find the balance—too much and they'd notice, too little and it wouldn't stick.
Now, the game was simple:
Sit back.
Wait.
See who lives long enough to regret it.
So yes, the cigarettes had to be delivered.
Without fail.
Carrying a bundle of fresh tobacco, master and disciple made their way to the Sarutobi compound.
"What do you think," Orochimaru asked suddenly, arms folded, gaze on the carved clan crest at the gate, "when you look at this place?"
Kenichi's answer came without hesitation.
"…'The Sarutobi feast on meat and wine, while the Senju's bones litter the roadside.'"
That was his most honest thought.
Once upon a time, Konohagakure had been founded by Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha.
Now?
The Senju clan was scattered to the wind.
The Uchiha had been pushed out to the village's edge.
The Sarutobi compound, meanwhile, sat in a prime location, fat with benefits and status.
Orochimaru smiled thinly.
He agreed.
His "teacher" loved to talk about the Will of Fire and sacrifice for the village—but somehow, the Sarutobi clan had always done quite well for itself.
The rhetoric of sacrifice was always pointed at others.
Look at the Fourth.
Even as Hokage, he'd been treated more like a convenient shield than a true ruler.
"Orochimaru."
Hiruzen Sarutobi stepped out, eyes sweeping over his former student… and briefly over the disciple at his side, before returning to Orochimaru.
"Sensei, long time no see. I've missed you."
Orochimaru smiled brightly.
If you didn't know him, you might've even believed it.