Orochimaru had been thoroughly assimilated by "modernization," but perhaps the influence of the world's will-or the rebellious streak Madara had beaten into him-had changed that.
In the dōjutsu world, Orochimaru usually wore his black hair short and choppy, with gold-rimmed glasses with plain lenses concealing his gaze. Always neatly and cleanly dressed, he looked every inch the refined scoundrel.
Now, in the shinobi world, Orochimaru wore traditional hanfu and had grown his hair long. At first, Madara Uchiha had found the sight so objectionable that he had beaten Orochimaru several times over it, but Orochimaru had carried on as he pleased.
Time flew by.
Before the next winter arrived, Orochimaru celebrated his sixth birthday.
The reincarnated Itama and Yuna worked as Orochimaru's book copyists, becoming spirits bound to the Study in the Princess Mausoleum.
On weekends, Orochimaru kindly gave Itama and Yuna a day off so they could flaunt their romance in front of Madara.
After all these months, Orochimaru had come to understand exactly what kind of person Madara Uchiha was.
Since Orochimaru could not beat Madara for the time being, he would disgust him to death instead.
However, things never went quite so perfectly...
Some unexpected little visitors arrived on the outskirts of the Princess Mausoleum.
It was a crisp, clear autumn day.
The chilly wind carried the promise of approaching winter.
"I'm hungry, Sis..."
A childish voice rang out shakily through the deserted Memorial Stone grounds.
A little boy with light brown hair walked along the Stone Path strewn with dead leaves, holding a golden-haired little girl's hand.
Beyond the blue-gray stone-paved road lay the Back Mountain behind the Memorial Stone.
On the solemn-looking streetlights, the Artificial Night Pearls were gathering energy.
Autumn desolation surrounded them on a morning with no one in sight and only the