The eyes of the predator, the beige kimono, the golden pupils, and the playful smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
When Kakashi saw Orochimaru, although he maintained a calm demeanor on the surface, a deep unease tightened in his chest.
After using Kirin, Kakashi's Sharingan had been overburdened, leaving his body heavy and sluggish. Worse still, he had been submerged in water all night. The repeated impact left numerous injuries. His body was battered.
Though none of the wounds were fatal, Kakashi's combat capability had sharply declined—reduced to less than a tenth of his usual strength.
Even his Mangekyō Sharingan was currently unusable.
Half-crippled, unable to rely on his eye, and now face-to-face with Orochimaru, Kakashi couldn't help but chuckle bitterly.
Was this his end?
Faced with the imminent threat of death, Kakashi felt strangely calm. There was no trace of panic or fear.
He couldn't explain why, but it was far from the terror he had expected.
Had dying once dulled his fear?
Kakashi laughed quietly at himself.
His internal musings were lost on Orochimaru, but Kakashi's nonchalant expression caused the Sannin to raise a brow in mild surprise.
Maybe others couldn't perceive it, but Orochimaru's scientific and analytical mind noticed everything. His perception was razor-sharp.
Kakashi's condition was abysmal. That much was obvious to Orochimaru at a glance.
And yet, the silver-haired ninja showed no signs of fear or anxiety.
Had he already given up?
No—definitely not.
Kakashi was not one to surrender easily.
Orochimaru realized, perhaps for the first time, that he had never truly understood Kakashi.
He had always thought of him as merely a talented junior—gifted, yes, but ultimately someone who had inherited power that wasn't his. In Orochimaru's eyes, gaining the Sharingan had marked the beginning of Kakashi's downfall.
After all, wielding the legacy of the Uchiha Clan wasn't something just anyone could master.
Yet Orochimaru hadn't expected what came next. After Minato's death, Kakashi had changed. The former despair and apathy vanished. He had become stronger at an astonishing pace—defeating expectations time and time again.
Today, as Orochimaru looked at him, he felt an unexpected flicker of envy.
That was why he hadn't attacked immediately on the cliff earlier.
Snakes were perceptive.
When he saw that lightning strike—so reminiscent of Raijin's wrath—others might have been confused. But not Orochimaru.
Before the mythical beast appeared, there was a symphony of a thousand birds.
No one else in the world could use that jutsu.
Such incredible ninjutsu talent.
Beautiful... and terrifying.
Orochimaru's gaze on Kakashi was filled with intoxicated fascination—like a hunter savoring the moment before claiming his prey.
Between their locked gazes, Kimimaro stood like a statue. He felt completely out of place, but more importantly, he didn't dare move—not even a twitch.
The overwhelming tension between the two made Kimimaro hyper-aware of the danger.
If he moved now… he'd die.
That single, primal fear echoed through his mind.
A few drops of cold sweat trickled down his pale face.
Who were these two men?
"So, Orochimaru... what exactly are you doing here?"
"Hehehe… originally, I came just to take this boy with me," Orochimaru replied, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips, "but now, I've found something far more… intriguing."
"Oh?" Kakashi narrowed his eyes. "And what would that be?"
A foreboding chill crawled up Kakashi's spine. Being in Orochimaru's sights was never good.
"Kakashi, you and I are both sharp enough. No need to pretend. Besides you… is there anyone else of interest here?"
"Ahhh… how flattering to be considered interesting by someone like you."
"Hehe… Kakashi, to think a non-Uchiha like you could use the Sharingan so proficiently… and even develop such terrifying ninjutsu. I must admit, I underestimated you. Neither I nor Minato could compare."
Despite the unexpected praise, Kakashi felt no joy—only bitterness.
He had never sought recognition.
Seeing Kakashi's silence, Orochimaru continued: "Your growth is truly fascinating. In honor of that… I'll give you a gift."
Kakashi's pupils shrank. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Orochimaru had already completed the hand signs.
His neck extended like a serpent—two long fangs glinting in the moonlight.
"Ah!"
Kakashi cried out in pain as Orochimaru's fangs sank into his neck.
Too fast!
In his weakened condition, Kakashi couldn't avoid it.
Kimimaro watched in horror. This man… was he even human?
Moments later, Orochimaru's head returned to normal. He looked at Kakashi with smug satisfaction.
Kakashi was curled on the ground, clutching his neck, his handsome face twisted in agony.
Three tomoe-shaped marks had appeared on his skin.
"Kakashi… this is the Cursed Seal of Heaven. It's still incomplete… but far more potent than the one I gave Anko. Savor the experience."
Orochimaru wiped his lips with a pleased expression.
Kakashi could only writhe in pain.
Ignoring him now, Orochimaru turned to Kimimaro. The boy flinched instinctively, stepping back.
"Hehehe… boy, have you found your purpose?"
Kimimaro froze. He had no answer, and his eyes reflected only confusion.
Orochimaru smiled. "Life itself is meaningless. But as long as you don't die… you'll find interesting things eventually. Like how I found you—and you found him."
He gently caressed Kimimaro's pale cheek. The boy blushed slightly, stunned by the contact.
Orochimaru turned away.
"Come, Kimimaro. Let's find the meaning of your existence together."
His voice was calm and hypnotic. Kimimaro couldn't resist.
As he followed, he cast one last glance at the man still trembling on the ground.
Was that person… something interesting I found?
He shook his head. He didn't know the answer.
But one thing was certain—so long as he followed this man, he would find it eventually.
In the days to come, Kimimaro would come to call him… Orochimaru-sama.
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