Heh, You Really Know How to Read People

As the days passed, the Third Shinobi World War still raged on. But after the Sand Village and the Cloud Village suffered heavy losses in the Battle of Mount Kikyo, both countries chose to hold back.

The fighting eased somewhat, but that didn't mean the war was about to end. If anything, it was the calm before the storm.

Konoha, inside Orochimaru's laboratory.

Hanazuki sat off to the side, bored, watching Orochimaru's somewhat violent dissection technique. In the end, he merely curled his lip.

"Bored already? You don't seem like the type who can sit quietly in a laboratory. Why did you suddenly come here?"

"Anko, go to the hospital and get me two more portions of the materials we used yesterday."

"Don't eavesdrop. Your senior and I have something to discuss, understood?"

Yesterday, Mitaraishi Anko had officially become Orochimaru's student. Now she looked between the two of them suspiciously, her little face troubled. As she left, a fleeting trace of worry crossed her gaze toward Hanazuki.

"Oh, my. Is there something wrong with observing one's teacher conduct an experiment? Or are 'outsiders' forbidden from entering this important laboratory?"

"You've got some nerve! You've been holed up at home ever since that day, refusing to go out and claiming you needed to recuperate from overusing your chakra. This is the first time we've met since we parted that day, isn't it?"

His soul-piercing gaze would have left anyone else frozen by the terrifying killing intent. But Hanazuki seemed almost numb to it, showing no reaction at all.

"Is that so? Perhaps my injuries were too severe, and I never had the time to come pay my respects. So, when do our lessons begin?"

"I've always admired you, Teacher Orochimaru. You must be the person in Konoha who knows the most forbidden techniques, right?"

His half-smiling expression displeased Orochimaru. He pressed down a little harder, and flecks of blood spattered across the pale face.

"You want my forbidden techniques? It's rare for someone with your discerning eye to take an interest in the techniques I know. Then I'll give them to you."

A mottled, rusted key slipped from the mouth of the winding snake. Its disgusting slime made Hanazuki recoil.

"Learning forbidden techniques takes far longer than you'd imagine. I don't think you're the kind of person who'd lose yourself in studying techniques."

"Heh, you really know how to read people. Then I'll take my leave. Don't let me keep you."

After Hanazuki disappeared, Orochimaru fell silent. He simply turned toward the doorway and asked quietly,

"Anko, where are the materials I asked for?"

"Teacher Orochimaru, why... do I feel like I never really knew Hanazuki at all?"

The scalpel paused briefly, then landed precisely on the incision point once more. His movements were rough, but he always maintained the utmost rationality.

"That's the difference between talents. He's exceptionally talented and very rational. He knows when to lie low and how to reveal his abilities at just the right moment, so he can gain enormous benefits without crossing the line."

"Teacher, what does that mean?"

Still young and unable to understand the meaning behind Orochimaru's words, Anko looked confused.

"Hanazuki... Uchiha Hanazuki. What do you think is the biggest difference between you and him? Talent for ninjutsu? Your own strength?"

"No. The biggest difference between you and him is your judgment of the situation in Konoha... no, in the entire Shinobi World."

"He deliberately let Chiyo, the Kazekage's adviser, go. He could have killed the Sand Village's two remaining Kekkei Genkai users, Rasa and Pakura, but he chose not to take the opportunity."

"Because the Sand Village still has the ability to defend itself, they haven't thrown caution to the wind and chosen to fight Konoha to the bitter end."

Anko understood only vaguely. She just felt that the friend she used to skip class and eat dumplings with was growing farther and farther away, and she felt a little dejected.

"Are you sad, Anko? With your talent, it probably won't be possible for you to catch up to Hanazuki. I'm better than anyone at judging a ninja's talent."

Her eyes lowered, but Anko suddenly smiled and spoke as if to herself.

"Even if that guy leaves me behind, I still don't want to be too far away from him. Besides, I have you, Teacher Orochimaru. You're one of the Sannin, so you must know a way to catch up to him, right?"

At that moment, Orochimaru's smile seemed genuine. For some reason, the blood-soaked specimen before him had quietly transformed into an evil, ominous eye.

Perhaps even I'm no match for him. Uchiha Hanazuki, that feeling definitely wasn't from an ordinary Sharingan. What was it?

While one story unfolded here, another was taking shape elsewhere.

At the edge of Konoha, outside a dilapidated old orphanage.

A plump, nun-dressed woman was washing the children's clothes by hand. It was autumn, and the water was icy cold.

She had asked the director more than once to buy a washing machine, but the orphanage's finances were so tight that they couldn't spare the money. The director had recently taken in another child, and at this rate, even getting enough food would become a problem.

Suddenly, a dark shadow blocked the last bit of sunlight. The woman, robbed of its warmth, looked up sharply, fire almost spitting from her eyes.

She was about to start cursing, but the dark red bandages around his calves and his understated, luxurious clothing made her swallow her words.

"Is Sister Nonō here?"

"Are you a ninja? The director's inside. Did the village finally send us our subsidy?"

Hope began to rise in her eyes, only to be snuffed out by his next words.

"No, I'm not a ninja here to deliver the subsidy. The people from the village handle that. I just have something to discuss with Sister Nonō. Has the village subsidy not come through in a long time?"

The plump woman led the way, complaining as she went.

"Tell me about it! Every time we ask Lord Danzo for funds, those ninjas just say there's a war on and money's tight. They won't give us even a little."

"When the director went to ask a few days ago, those people said a ninja had completed a mission that was far too difficult and taken a reward of fifty million ryo. The whole village was strapped for cash."

"Do ninjas really make that much money? Honestly, if I were a few decades younger, I'd want to become a ninja and earn some money too..."

Hanazuki froze for a moment. What was going on? Hadn't he only received five million ryo? When had another zero been added?

Even including the cost of the Kusanagi Sword's materials, it should have been no more than thirty million ryo. Whose pocket had the rest of the money gone into?

Hanazuki lowered his head, lost in self-doubt. The plump woman leading the way shouted, interrupting a question he would probably never get an answer to.

"Director, we have a visitor."

Nonō, who was mending clothes, turned to look. When she saw Hanazuki, her smile was warm and bright.

"Hanazuki... That's your name, right?"

"Yes, Sister Nonō. There's something I'd like your help with. You can consider it a private commission. Please."

The sound of a pen moving across paper echoed through the old room. At the sight of the hefty check, the plump woman, who had been watching his movements all along, stared wide-eyed and hurried to whisper in Nonō's ear.

"Director, this child... could he be..."