019 The Protector

Proud, extreme, radical—when these traits are paired with genuine ability, such a person cannot tolerate the slightest injustice. After the chaos wrought by the Nine-Tails, it was the Uchiha clan who, more than the village itself, sought the mastermind behind it. Like those obsessed with cleanliness, they were desperate to clear their names. Unfortunately, the true culprit left them no opportunity—not a single trace remained. Objectively, they were destined to bear the suspicion of causing the disaster, to be discussed, doubted, and pointed at. With the Uchiha’s pride, how could they possibly accept this? It was not merely the will of an individual, but the collective will of the entire clan.

Under such circumstances, Orochimaru was confident the Uchiha would accept the village’s call to arms. Thankless and unrewarding, with no real benefit, only to prove something—this was not a way for a clan to survive. Yet the Uchiha could do it; their minds were twisted. Yes, they are Uchiha, after all.

Sarutobi Hiruzen was momentarily stunned by these words. His tense expression relaxed slightly, but he quickly thought of another question. “Who will lead the Uchiha?”

Orochimaru licked his lips and grinned. “You could send Jiraiya. He has the experience and the skill for it.”

Jiraiya had not spoken yet, but the Third Hokage immediately refused, “No, Jiraiya cannot do such a thing.”

Though this was an open scheme, it was truly venomous, and not at all secretive; anyone paying attention would notice. If Jiraiya were to undertake it, his reputation would be sullied.

At that moment, a figure flashed through Sarutobi’s mind—a person he would entrust with such a responsibility at a time like this.

“If Jiraiya shouldn’t do it, then should it be Danzo?”

Orochimaru smiled, a hint of mockery in his expression. “Don’t forget what just happened in the meeting room.”

Would the Uchiha clan ever follow someone who smeared them so thoroughly? If they could bend so easily, they wouldn’t have agreed to the war assignment in the first place. It was a false proposition.

Sarutobi realized the reasoning, looking at his student before him, his voice grave. “This was your intention from the beginning—to lead the Uchiha clan into war. Orochimaru, what is your true purpose?”

Orochimaru simply smiled, continuing, “Koharu and Homura are already old, their strength at best elite jonin. When facing the Uchiha, they cannot command respect. My purpose is irrelevant, but old man, if you don’t choose me, will you go yourself?”

Sarutobi frowned.

On a personal level, he preferred Danzo to take the blame. After so many years of cooperation, he understood Danzo’s desires and was confident in restraining him. But his student—Sarutobi had to admit—Orochimaru was becoming more inscrutable as he matured. Not long ago, Orochimaru seemed poised to leave the village once the time was right, breaking free of all constraints. But lately, he had begun to show concern for the village again, making one wonder if he had ulterior motives.

“Old man, honestly, Orochimaru having his own ideas isn’t such a big deal—no need to make a fuss,” Jiraiya said, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Orochimaru, tell us your purpose. As long as you don’t do anything to harm the village, neither I nor the old man will stop you.”

“Inviting you today was the right choice,” Orochimaru laughed, “Old man, I promise, what I do will only benefit the village.”

His sinister smile seemed ill-intentioned, but Sarutobi felt a weight lift from his heart. Trust might be too much, but his instincts as a teacher told him that, at this moment, Orochimaru was not lying.

“By the way, Jiraiya, you’re looking after Minato’s child these days, aren’t you?” Orochimaru grinned. “Help me look after another child as well; you’ve met him before.”

“Oh, you mean that rather taciturn kid?” Jiraiya recalled the small boy who trained with Guy and Kakashi. “No problem, leave it to me.”

“Pay special attention to him; his safety matters,” Orochimaru chuckled. “That boy named Yamato—he can use Wood Release.”

Both the Third Hokage and Jiraiya were shocked at these words. “He is—”

Orochimaru cut them off. “Not as you think—not a descendant of the First Hokage. He’s the result of my and Danzo’s research on the First’s cells.”

Sarutobi’s face clouded with anger. “Orochimaru, you—”

“Don’t be so upset. It’s an old matter. I only just learned of this child myself and took him back from Danzo.” Orochimaru ignored Sarutobi’s rage and continued, “I’ve reviewed the early records of the First’s cell experiments. You were aware of them, old man, but too many lives were lost, so you put a stop to it. Later, Danzo restarted the experiments in secret, which is how I got involved.”

Under Jiraiya’s confused gaze, Sarutobi’s expression faltered and he slowly sat back in his chair.

“This child is important—a contingency for any future incident with the Nine-Tails. Train him well.”

“And be careful of Danzo.”

With that, Orochimaru stood up and strode away. As he passed through the doorway, a faint smile curled at his lips.

Heh… With the old man acting as a check, Danzo no longer stood a chance of leading the ninja forces. Koharu and Homura might be mediocre, but at least they lacked ambition and wouldn’t stir up trouble.

…

A short distance from the Hokage tower, in a residential house.

“Huff… huff…” Yamato steadied his breathing as he cleared weeds from the courtyard.

This was Orochimaru’s house in the Leaf village, now Yamato’s place of refuge. It had been uninhabited for a long time; compared to here, Orochimaru spent more time in laboratories and on battlefields, leaving the grounds overgrown and the walls faded.

Yet Yamato was content. When he was in the Root laboratories, most of his days were spent beneath dusty, earthen ceilings—it was rare even to glimpse the sky, let alone have a house with its own courtyard.

He needed to clean the place quickly, so he wouldn’t have to squeeze into Guy’s tiny hut for training next time.

Thinking of his two new friends, Yamato’s lips curled into a slight smile.

“Whoosh—”

A gust of wind, and a figure appeared in the courtyard.

Recognizing the visitor, Yamato immediately stood and bowed. “Lord Orochimaru.”

“Hmm, well done. You’ve repaired it nicely,” Orochimaru looked around, a trace of nostalgia flickering in his eyes, but his expression soon tightened, replaced by his characteristic smile, cold and dangerous.

He scrutinized Yamato, his gaze making the boy instinctively tense.

“Yamato, you seem quite happy lately.”

Yamato’s heart skipped a beat.

Orochimaru licked his lips. “Don’t be afraid—I’m not accusing you of anything.”

Though his expression was subtle, the boy was noticeably livelier than when he had first been sent out of Root. The reason was not hard to guess: a change in environment, richer relationships.

“I have some matters to attend to soon. I’ll have the old man and Jiraiya look after you for a while,” Orochimaru placed a hand gently on Yamato’s tense shoulder, speaking softly, “Think carefully about what you can and cannot say.”

“Yes, sir,” Yamato replied promptly.

“Apart from the regular collection of your cells, I have no intention of disrupting your current life,” Orochimaru patted the boy’s shoulder. “I hope you won’t make things difficult for me.”

Yamato dropped to one knee. “Yes, Lord Orochimaru.”

He would never betray Orochimaru, even if his guardians became the Hokage and another of the Legendary Three. The eleven-year-old understood well: those who stand in the light cannot protect him, but Orochimaru can.