"Teacher, that's impressive, far beyond what I expected," Uchiha Gen said with genuine admiration, his fingers brushing thoughtfully over the parchment scroll spread out before him.
The Reincarnation Jutsu that Orochimaru had developed in this world was indeed superior to the one recorded in the original texts.
Part of that improvement was thanks to Gen's assistance, but the true credit belonged to Orochimaru's unmatched genius.
In its classic form, the technique required a three-year cooldown between reincarnations. Orochimaru's new version had reduced that to two years and if reincarnating into a cloned vessel rather than a living host, the interval shortened further, to just one.
Moreover, reincarnating into a clone came without the usual spiritual backlash or recovery period. The soul remained intact, the transition smooth.
Reincarnating into another person's body still involved some damage to the soul, and a weakened period afterward, but even those side effects were now drastically reduced. The vessel still needed to be compatible, and the caster's mental strength had to surpass the host's but the refinement was extraordinary.
Though still imperfect, it was already a masterpiece. In the shinobi world, there could never be a truly flawless jutsu but this came close.
Orochimaru smiled faintly at the praise, saying nothing more. He simply raised his wine glass, the gesture quiet but filled with pride.
"Cheers," Gen said, lifting the sake pot and refilling both their glasses. "Don't hold back tonight."
Orochimaru's amber eyes glimmered. "Heh. Fine then."
He wasn't a habitual drinker—only with a few select people did he indulge: Gen, Jiraiya, and Tsunade. Perhaps those were the only ones he'd ever considered equals.
Clink. The clear sound of glass meeting glass cut through the quiet room.
They drank. A faint flush crept into Orochimaru's otherwise pallid face, giving him a ghostly but oddly human look.
"Take this too," Orochimaru said after a moment, setting his cup down and forming a quick seal. "I've already completed it. I haven't given it a name yet, consider that your privilege."
Another scroll appeared in a puff of white smoke. Orochimaru tossed it lightly across the table.
Gen caught it midair, unrolled it and the corners of his mouth lifted in satisfaction.
The scroll contained a newly developed perception-type ninjutsu.
Its purpose was specific and vital: to detect White Zetsu.
White Zetsu's infiltration ability was notorious, nearly impossible to track. Gen had long worried that his inside contact within the Akatsuki Organization might be discovered. He'd quietly asked Orochimaru to create a countermeasure.
Using captured samples of White Zetsu's body and his own unmatched research skill, Orochimaru had done it.
And faster than even Gen expected.
He couldn't help but sigh inwardly. The man truly lives up to his title—the greatest scientific mind and ninjutsu genius of the shinobi world.
"Stop toasting every minute," Orochimaru chided mildly. "That's a big glass, not a cup. You'll drink yourself under the table."
Gen laughed. "Alright, alright."
He leaned back a little, then asked casually, "By the way, Teacher—how's your training in the Origin Initial Sutra going?"
Orochimaru didn't answer directly. He smiled thinly. "You first."
"It's progressing steadily," Gen said, pouring himself another half-glass. "If nothing unexpected happens, I should reach the Refining Qi to Transform Spirit stage within two years."
Orochimaru's mouth twitched, half amusement, half disbelief. He said nothing, but his silence was eloquent.
Gen chuckled, understanding immediately. "Ah. So it's been… challenging?"
Indeed, Orochimaru had spent his life mastering ninjutsu through intellect and experiment. The Sutra's method, which blended chakra cultivation with deeper spiritual refinement, ran counter to his usual framework. It was natural for him to find it awkward.
"Don't rush," Gen said with an easy smile. "You'll adjust."
He didn't offer advice beyond that, he knew his teacher too well. Orochimaru was too proud to accept guidance from his student. Push him, and it would only provoke resistance.
So Gen changed the subject. "Now that the Reincarnation Jutsu is perfected, what are your plans, Teacher?"
That got Orochimaru's attention. He set down his chopsticks, eyes glinting with new light. "Aside from continuing my research," he said slowly, "I intend to travel across the shinobi world—gather knowledge, study the unknown. My next goal is to bridge the boundary between human and god."
Gen's expression shifted subtly. "Teacher… you're referring to the realm of the Sage of Six Paths, aren't you?"
Orochimaru's smile deepened. "Ho ho… You catch on quickly, Gen. Yes. I seek the truth behind existence itself, to reach the legendary state of the Six Paths Sage. After all, what is the point of eternal life if one does not pursue something grand enough to fill it? Without that, even immortality becomes a cage of emptiness."
Gen nodded, the flicker of respect genuine. "That's a difficult path, but I still wish you success."
Orochimaru's gaze sharpened. "And you, my disciple? Don't tell me you've never felt the same ambition? You, of all people, with the blood of the Uchiha and power that surpasses it, you could reach that realm more easily than anyone. Are you truly not tempted?"
Gen swirled the sake in his cup, eyes calm but resolute. "Teacher, it's not that I lack ambition. But following in the Sage's footsteps—picking through his remains, walking his old path, that doesn't appeal to me."
He looked up, the firelight reflected in his dark eyes. "I don't want to become the second or third Sage of Six Paths. I want to become myself. To open a new way, even if it's uncertain—one that belongs only to me."
His voice was quiet, but each word carried unshakable conviction.
Orochimaru stared at him for a long moment, then suddenly smiled—a rare, genuine expression. "What spirit… what vastness of heart. Your vision may even surpass mine."
He laughed softly, shaking his head in admiration. "Truly, I didn't misjudge you. Perhaps taking you as my disciple was the best decision I ever made."
Then, in an uncharacteristic gesture, Orochimaru reached for the sake pot and poured for them both again, the faint tremor of excitement visible in his hands. His pale face flushed faintly with emotion.
As the old saying went—When words fail, even half a sentence is too much. When friends meet over wine, a thousand cups aren't enough.
That was how Orochimaru felt now.
"It's my honor to be your disciple," Gen said with a faint smile, raising his cup. "So tell me, Teacher, do you mean that among all the heroes under heaven, only you and I are worthy of standing side by side?"
Orochimaru burst into laughter. "Haha! Well put! That's exactly what I mean."
Their glasses met again with a crisp chime. This time, both drank deeply, the warmth of the sake carrying more meaning than words ever could.
The night stretched on. The master and disciple ate hotpot, drank, and spoke freely, about ninjutsu, about life, about the vast unknowns that still lay ahead.
And for once, Orochimaru allowed himself to be unguarded. By the time the moon sank low, the Sannin was drunk—perhaps the first time in decades he'd allowed himself that indulgence.
When Gen finally stepped outside, the chill of the night air hit him like a wave, sobering him slightly. The alcohol burned pleasantly in his veins as he activated the Flying Thunder God Technique and vanished in a flash of light, heading home.
Even with his control, the spatial disorientation nearly made him lose his balance. He laughed softly to himself. "Guess even space-time ninjutsu can't cure a hangover…"
The next morning, Hiruzen Sarutobi received word and immediately sent ANBU to summon Orochimaru.
But Orochimaru ignored the summons entirely. Without hesitation, he left Konoha.
The ANBU, recognizing the futility of trying to stop him, returned to the Hokage's office and delivered the report in silence.
After they left, Hiruzen sat quietly for a long time, the weight of years visible in his eyes. Finally, he exhaled a long sigh and turned back to his desk.
He no longer harbored illusions about removing Uchiha Gen from power but he still hoped to gather enough strength to act as a counterbalance, a safeguard against unchecked dominance.
He sent envoys to contact Jiraiya and Tsunade, hoping to rally what remained of the old guard. But both of them were elusive as shadows; finding them without their consent was near impossible.
Inwardly, Hiruzen feared what might come next. Gen's power is too great, he thought grimly. If he acts by his own will alone, without restraint, Konoha itself could be dragged into ruin.
Half a month later.
In the backyard of the Uchiha Clan Leader's residence, Gen lounged on a reclining chair beneath the gentle sunlight, a small scroll held loosely between his fingers.
A faint poof sounded. The scroll ignited spontaneously, burning to ash without flame. The black residue drifted down onto the garden's flowers and soil.
Gen rested his hands behind his head, eyes half-closed, thoughtful.
Mei Terumi and her close aides are moving unusually… Could the Great Elder's faction be preparing to act against Obito?
In the records of the original timeline, it was Mei Terumi who had uncovered the Fourth Mizukage's strange behavior and, together with Ao and the Great Elder's network, dispelled the genjutsu controlling him.
Gen exhaled softly. Looks like I'll need to make another trip to the Hidden Mist.
The day's routine ended quietly, but new currents were already forming beneath the surface...
threads of destiny weaving toward the next storm.