Orochimaru's Deal. Morning mist shrouded Konoha, and the air was thick with dampness and sorrow.
Uchiha Sanpo stood beside the freshly dug graves, watching small coffins slowly lowered into the earth.
These were all children found in the Root base. Their frail bodies were covered in needle marks and surgical stitches; some had even been altered beyond recognition.
"The one hundred and thirty-seventh."
Uchiha Sanpo counted quietly, his nails digging deeply into his palms.
Just then, a small figure ran out from the crowd, short black hair fluttering lightly in the morning breeze.
Five-year-old Uchiha Itachi, dressed in formal black, ran straight toward Orochimaru.
Itachi's voice was childish, yet unusually composed. "Lord Orochimaru, why... aren't you mourning with everyone else...?"
Orochimaru looked down at the child, who did not even reach his waist, and curled his lips into an ambiguous smile. "There is no meaning in lamenting the dead! They only have value when they can be used!"
Itachi blinked his large, pitch-black eyes. This answer had clearly exceeded his expectations.
"Then... what is the meaning of life?" There was a child's particular stubbornness in his voice.
Orochimaru's golden pupils stared directly into Itachi's eyes. "There is none. Once a person dies, everything slowly disappears. Only living eternally has meaning!"
With that, his broad sleeves snapped in the wind as he turned and left alone.
Itachi stood there blankly, his small back looking exceptionally lonely.
Uchiha Sanpo stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Itachi's head.
"Because life is short, we must do meaningful things in the limited time we have. A person's birth is like a blank sheet of paper. Whether that paper is covered in chaotic stains or becomes a beautiful painting depends on one's choices and perseverance."
Itachi raised his head, two utterly different beliefs battling