He opened his right palm, and a palm-sized paper talisman sprang out. A soft, milky-white glow edged it. The light was gentle, but the instant it touched the Hashirama Cells, it seemed to ignite, spreading rapidly across Itachi's body.
Mount Myōboku's greatest treasure: the Sage Talisman.
Senjutsu Chakra seeped from the talisman into Itachi's meridians, meeting the rampaging Hashirama Cells layer by layer, neutralizing and merging with them.
Wherever the Senjutsu Chakra touched, the surging dark-red fibers began to settle. Like a wild beast drawing in its claws, they slowly withdrew from their frenzy and sank back into the cells along his meridians.
Itachi's ragged breathing steadied, and his arched back slowly lowered onto the table.
His eyes remained open, reflecting the torchlight on the ceiling.
More than ten minutes later, Jiraiya withdrew his hand, tucked the Sage Talisman—now dimmed by more than half—back into his robes, and let out a long breath.
Orochimaru's gaze fell on Itachi's face, which had regained its color, then flicked to the bulge beneath Jiraiya's robes.
His tongue slipped past his lips and swept around his face, leaving a glistening trail. His voice carried greed and impatience he could not suppress.
"I want the fusion too! Jiraiya, you won't refuse me, will you?"
Jiraiya turned. His gaze rested on Orochimaru's face for a moment before he shook his head. The motion was unhurried but decisive.
"I refuse. It wouldn't work on you! The Uchiha and the Senju are both descendants of the Sage of Six Paths. It's easier for an Uchiha to fuse with Hashirama Cells than it is for anyone else. Besides, the Sage Talisman's energy is nearly exhausted. It needs to be replenished."
Orochimaru's wide grin slowly faded.
His gaze returned to Itachi's steadily breathing body, and his fingers clenched in midair