Konoha Snake Charmer

Amamiya Maki stared at the Rasengan in his palm, momentarily lost in thought.

The pale yellow ball of chakra hummed in his palm, its internal currents sharply defined, like a miniature storm compressed to its absolute limit.

Half a summer vacation of stubborn, grueling practice, of water balloons bursting in his face and chakra backlashes leaving his fingers numb-all that effort had finally paid off.

The rotating airflow pushed aside the mist drifting from the waterfall. Tiny droplets danced across the chakra ball's surface, evaporating into wisps of white vapor.

Ha! Yes! I finally did it!

Amamiya Maki gently pressed the Rasengan against the water.

The rapidly spinning chakra instantly churned a whirlpool into the lake, splashing water straight into his face.

He grinned, shook the droplets from his hand, and leaned against a tree trunk with his eyes closed.

I had to admit, ninjutsu really was inconvenient stuff-but making these little balls was definitely an exception.

Just then, a rustling sound came from the bushes beside him.

A small snake poked its head through the leaves, slid down a rock to his feet, and obediently coiled up.

Its scales gleamed darkly through the mist. One look was enough to tell him it was no ordinary wild snake.

Amamiya Maki looked up in the direction it had come from. A tall, thin figure in a hood slowly emerged from the shadows of the dense forest.

The hood hid the figure's face, but the exposed skin was excessively pale, almost translucent, as though it had not seen sunlight in years.

The newcomer removed his hood, revealing an eerily pallid face.

Golden, slit-pupiled eyes fixed on Amamiya Maki as the tip of a tongue slowly licked the corner of his mouth like a snake's.

"Heh heh. A pleasure to meet you. I'm Orochimaru."

At that familiar voice, husky and magnetic, every muscle in Amamiya Maki's body instantly tensed.

This was not the oppressive sensation of being overwhelmed by chakra.

It was instinctive, primal fear, like a helpless prey animal caught in the gaze of an apex predator. A chill seeped outward from his bones.

One of the Konoha Sannin, a future S-rank missing-nin-Orochimaru.

His right hand instinctively reached for his ninja tools pouch, but his brain finished assessing the risks in a fraction of a second.

Running or fighting now would be nothing short of suicide.

If he dared clash head-on with Orochimaru...

He could be branded a missing-nin tomorrow.

And the day after that, his corpse would probably turn up on a dissection table in Root.

He forcibly withdrew his hand, concealed all his wariness and killing intent, and deliberately relaxed his stance. Steadying his breathing, he replaced the caution in his eyes with respect.

"So it's Lord Orochimaru. I was only training here on my own. May I ask what I did to draw your attention?"

An extremely soft chuckle rose from Orochimaru's throat, so brief it seemed he had swallowed it as soon as it emerged.

"A nobody? I hear your name from the old man quite often."

He narrowed his slit-pupiled eyes slightly, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I read that essay of yours. It certainly left an impression.

"The First fell short in literary grace, the Second lacked a touch of flair-the strongest Hokage belongs to the present.

"The old man's expression when he showed it to me was quite something. A rare sight."

Amamiya Maki's heart skipped a beat.

So the Third hadn't just read it himself-he'd been passing it around?

That piece of flattery he had casually dashed off had circulated far more widely than he had ever expected.

"However, I didn't come here today to praise your essay."

Orochimaru changed tack, and the air around them instantly seemed to grow colder.

The temperature had not dropped. His presence was simply that cold.

His voice was quiet, but every word seemed to slither into Maki's ears like a little snake, tangling inside his brain and leaving his entire body rigid.

Danzo's Root lurked in the shadows, while the Third's Telescope Technique watched the entire village.

His greatest protection right now was the title of "Will of Fire Successor."

Whatever Orochimaru wanted, he had to cling to that card.

"Giving everything for Konoha is every villager's duty." Amamiya Maki straightened his back, his manner impeccable.

Orochimaru watched him for several seconds, then laughed.

It was not a polite, feigned laugh. Maki had genuinely amused him.

The way those golden eyes curved resembled a cat savoring its final moment of patience before the hunt.

To put on this righteous act before him, Orochimaru, without a change in expression or a hitch in his breathing-how fascinating.

"Is that so? But that isn't what I see in your eyes."

"There's no need to recite the textbook version of the Will of Fire to me."

Orochimaru spoke slowly, every word striking home.

"What I see is a hunger for knowledge. The way you were staring at that Rasengan just now was exactly how I used to look."

"That hunger for ninjutsu, for knowledge, cannot be faked."

Amamiya Maki did not reply.

He could not pin down Orochimaru's intentions at all. His mind frantically dissected every probing word.

Having the first layer of his disguise seen through was perfectly normal.

Orochimaru had always been one of Konoha's foremost masters of psychology.

Others saw your exterior. He saw your innermost self.

Why you lied, what you wanted, what you were hiding-he could see through it all at a glance.

For an ordinary person, being seen through so completely was terrifying. For a seeker of knowledge, however, it was liberating.

"Just as you discovered Minato and Nonō, I have discovered you..."

Orochimaru's tone was mild, yet carried a seriousness that brooked no refusal.

"Become my apprentice, Maki."

The roar of the waterfall filled the silence between them.

Amamiya Maki knew perfectly well that having the Third mention his name a few times was nowhere near enough to make Orochimaru come out here personally to recruit him.

Tsunade chose apprentices based on innate talent and their foundation in chakra control.

Orochimaru looked for something else.

Their attitude toward the unknown, and their tenacity to pursue something to the bitter end.

Clearly, he had seen those qualities in Maki.

Orochimaru saw through his hesitation, and a trace of candor appeared on his pale face.

"It was Nawaki."

"He felt that failing to get Tsunade to accept you was his fault, so he came to see me specifically, hoping I would take you as my apprentice."

The reason was simpler than Maki could have imagined.

No conspiracy, no scheming. Nawaki had simply felt bad about it.

Wanting to help a friend, he had gone straight to Orochimaru's door.

Amamiya Maki could practically picture the scene.

Nawaki standing dutifully at the laboratory door, explaining everything from beginning to end.

When asked why, he would scratch his head and answer with guileless sincerity, "Because he's my friend."

To Nawaki, it was that simple.

The cold, inscrutable Cold Lord Orochimaru everyone else saw was merely one of his teachers.

The somewhat hot-tempered Princess Tsunade was simply an older sister who loved him dearly.

And so Nawaki had gone and knocked on Orochimaru's laboratory door.

Just as he knocked on Tsunade's door, just as he stood outside the Senju Clan Compound waiting for Amamiya Maki.

Nawaki always acted from the heart, with complete sincerity.

Amamiya Maki fell silent for a moment.

He knew Nawaki was loyal to his friends, but he had never expected the boy to go this far.

The sincerity etched into the Senju Clan's very bones truly was impossible to refuse.

Was this the Senju charm at work?

I'd brave fire and water for you, Lord Nawaki!

"I've been watching you for a long time, ever since you began creating this technique."

Orochimaru spoke at an unhurried pace, every word as precise as tissue being separated on a dissection table.

"When I finally witnessed you master this new technique beneath the waterfall, what I saw in your eyes confirmed it. We are alike."

"That is why I approached you. Not because of Nawaki's request, but because I admire you."

Amamiya Maki felt a private surge of admiration.

Orochimaru had pitched those words to absolute perfection.

That single word, "admire," was not charity from a senior to a junior. It was an unspoken recognition between equals of the same kind.

Had he not been a transmigrator, that acknowledgment alone might truly have made him willing to brave any danger for Orochimaru.

I'd brave fire and water for you, Lord Orochimaru!

But he still did not agree immediately.

As the saying went, one wrong step led to another.

He still needed a little time to think.

Orochimaru did not press him. He simply watched in silence.

The patience in those slit-pupiled eyes was particularly terrifying.

For someone who could sit motionless in a laboratory observing cells for seventy-two hours, waiting a few minutes for him was nothing.

"Amamiya Maki, demonstrate that technique for me once more."

Without hesitation, Amamiya Maki extended his right hand.

Chakra surged from his palm, and a pale yellow Rasengan formed instantly, humming.

The airflow swept aside the waterfall's mist, sending fine white streaks constantly skimming across the chakra ball's surface.

Orochimaru did not look at the ninjutsu at all.

He watched Amamiya Maki's eyes the entire time.

The rotating glow of the Rasengan reflected in those eyes-steady, precise, without the slightest unnecessary movement.

This was not a beginner showing off a newly learned ninjutsu.

It was clearly a creator presenting a finished, polished work.

Orochimaru could tell at a glance that compressing chakra to such density required an extraordinary degree of control.

Given a little time, he could reverse-engineer this technique himself.

Learning a technique took effort and sweat. Creating one, however, required genuine talent.

That was a gulf no amount of chakra or speed at forming hand seals could bridge.

And hidden in Amamiya Maki's eyes was precisely that most precious talent-a pure, absolute curiosity about the structure of techniques, and a desire to explore it.

Nawaki did not possess it. It had long since faded from Tsunade, while the Third's sharp edges had long been worn smooth by the Will of Fire.

A small snake emerged from Orochimaru's sleeve, coiled once around his wrist, and gently flicked its tongue.

He raised his hand, ushered the snake back into his sleeve, and put his hood on again.

The shadow concealed most of his face, leaving only the faintest suggestion of a smile.

"If any technique ever interests you, you may come to me whenever you like."

"We can have a proper discussion about the essence of ninjutsu. I wouldn't mind talking all night."

With that, he turned toward the depths of the forest, walking slowly and deliberately leaving Amamiya Maki room to follow of his own accord.

Amamiya Maki remained where he was and lowered his gaze to his palm.

The tingling warmth left by the spinning Rasengan still lingered there.

Only after meeting Orochimaru up close did he truly appreciate the man's terrifying charisma.

It was neither good looks nor power, but an allure unique to an explorer.

Like someone who had spent ages exploring the darkness alone, suddenly discovering a fellow traveler behind him and stopping to offer a hand: Want to walk together?

Otherwise, given Konoha's traditions, there was no way anyone would have called Orochimaru the Cold Lord.

They should have called him some kind of sinister, snake-shaped reptile instead.

His looks might have played a part, but Konoha's tradition was to give ugly people hell and handsome people hell alike.

After all, we in Konoha had our own unique local conditions.

If you didn't give other people hell, I'd give you hell.

Really?

Just kidding. Even if you gave other people hell, I'd still give you hell for not being vicious enough about it.

In the future, Might Guy and his father would be mocked for their watermelon heads, while a crowd of children would chase Uchiha Itachi and throw stones at him.

That said plenty about the caliber of Konoha's nasty villagers.

But Orochimaru? No one called him a cold-blooded animal. No one called him a snake demon.

Even the Third merely said he had "strayed from the path."

That was the true power of the Konoha Snake Charmer.