Six Years Ago.
“…Patriarch?” Inoichi muttered, his voice low as the Uchiha boy slipped from the room. His brow furrowed, eyes cutting to the Hokage, who remained fixed on the door, shoulders slumping as though the years had finally caught up to him. At that moment, Hiruzen Sarutobi seemed a man undone, weighed by age and grief.
A knock broke the silence. The flimsy door, marked with kanji and Fūinjutsu seals, creaked open. Kotetsu, a subordinate from the Intelligence Division, stepped in.
“Yes?” Inoichi’s voice, hard again, addressed the Tokubetsu-jōnin.
“The analysis team has their report, Leader-san.” Kotetsu handed over a scroll before bowing and departing as silently as he’d come.
Inoichi’s eyes scanned the report, fingers tracing the parchment as Hiruzen spoke. “Any progress with Fuu?”
Inoichi shook his head. “No, Hokage-sama. The analysis matches my findings. Whatever technique the boy used… it’s more than a jutsu. It’s something insidious. Aimed at the soul. Corrosive, in a way I’ve never seen. It’s S-rank. In this room, few could survive it.”
A heavy silence settled over the council.
“I’d evaluate the boy as an A-rank threat,” Inoichi continued. “Deadly, yes, but fragile. A glass cannon. The state he was in when the ANBU found him suggests he cannot use that technique in quick succession. The strain on his chakra network would kill him if he tried.”
“That won’t be the case for long,” Danzo rasped, his gravel voice scraping through the room like stones. “The boy’s potential is… obscure. Not even Itachi showed such promise. His fire jutsu alone could rival any Jōnin.” He turned, eyes cold and sharp. “Hiruzen, I reiterate; he cannot be allowed to live.”
The air shifted, the killing intent in Danzo’s words pulling the room taut. Inoichi stiffened, the hair on the back of his neck rising.
“Danzo,” the Hokage rumbled, his voice deep and old with warning. “You speak of the boy’s hatred, yet you’ve done nothing but fan its flames. If you had succeeded in your schemes, do you think Konoha would have escaped unscathed? You’ve subverted my authority for the last time. You will resign from the council today. Sasuke is to remain untouched. All information regarding this matter is now classified up to S-rank.”
The shock that rippled through the room was palpable. Inoichi’s heart hammered as the gravity of the situation sank in. There was more here than any of them knew.
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A Week Ago.
Sarutobi puffed on his pipe, drawing in a slow, thoughtful breath. “Now then,” he exhaled, the smoke curling into the air, “I’d like to hear from those who’ve overseen our newest Genin. Kakashi, Kurenai, Asuma—tell me, do any of you have recommendations for this year’s Chūnin Exams?”
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He took another drag. “They must have completed at least eight missions, though I advise you to trust your own judgment. True candidates should have completed double that, and demonstrated the maturity to bear the rank of Chūnin… Kurenai, you may begin.”
“Hokage-sama,” Kurenai began, her red eyes flashing with confidence. “I recommend Cell Eight—Hyuga Hinata, Inuzuka Kiba, Aburame Shino. They are ready, I believe.”
Sarutobi nodded, turning to Asuma. “And you?”
“Yes, Hokage-sama. I recommend Cell Ten—Yamanaka Ino, Akimichi Choji, Nara Shikamaru. I believe they’re also ready for the exams.”
“Kakashi?”
“I recommend Cell Seven—Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura, and Uchiha Sasuke,” Kakashi said, his tone measured. “I believe they’re ready.”
The Hokage paused, narrowing his eyes at Kakashi. “It’s unusual to see such certainty from you all, especially from you, Kakashi. Are you sure this isn’t a bias toward a certain Genin’s… remarkable talent? Naruto and Sakura seem too green for this, don’t they?”
Kakashi’s single eye didn’t waver. “I share some of your hesitation, Hokage-sama. But I believe this is the right call. For all of them. Especially those two.”
“The Chūnin Exams are brutal,” Sarutobi warned. “They might not have the experience, or the maturity. You may be rushing them.”
“I understand, but I stand by my decision,” Kakashi said. “What they lack in experience, they make up for in potential.”
“…Very well,” Sarutobi sighed, “but know that you’ll be accountable for the outcome.”
“I understand, Hokage-sama.”
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Orochimaru crouched beside the body. A face, soft and feminine, stared up at him, frozen in death. It was a good face. Soft, yet angular. Perfect.
The sannin allowed himself a smile, feeling his chakra stir as his hands moved through the seals—Snake, Dog, Monkey, Dragon, Rat. A careful weave of transformation and mimicry, blending form and spirit into a seamless whole.
“Shōshagan no Jutsu,” he whispered. Vanishing facial copy technique. Orochimaru’s chakra funnelled into his palm, and he reached down, stroking the corpse’s cheek as its face peeled away like paper, revealing the smooth, featureless head beneath.
He pressed the skin mask to his own face, feeling it bind, the sensation cold and intimate. His body shifted under his chakra’s command, bones and muscles rearranging to mimic the Kusa-nin’s tall, lean muscular frame.
His two subordinates mirrored the transformation, their techniques flawless. Competence was a rare thing, but they’d mastered this art.
With the disguise complete, Orochimaru knelt and rifled through the Kusa-nin’s clothes. Moments later, he found what he was looking for—travel documents, permission to partake in the Chūnin Exams.
He slipped them into his robes with a grin. A one-handed seal, and he vanished into the trees, his men following in silent flickers.
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The snake sannin arrived at the academy, settling into the shade of a tree. He waited, quiet and unseen, until a figure appeared in the distance.
“…Sasuke Uchiha,” he breathed, eyes gleaming. The boy was everything he had hoped for and more. Dark blue robes hung loosely on his shoulders, an uchiwa crest embroidered on the back. Beneath the silk, he wore mesh armour, forearm guards, the subtle trappings of a warrior. His hair, black as ink, flowed down his back, moving gently in the breeze. Wooden geta clacked against the stone, lifting his height by just an inch.
Sasuke was beautiful. His face sharp, eyes cold, body lean and honed. Mature. Far beyond his peers.
“Yes,” Orochimaru whispered. “He will be the perfect vessel.”