The air in the Forest of Death grew still, thick and heavy, charged with the smell of damp earth and the metallic aftertaste of fear. For Hinata Hyuga, the world had narrowed to a single, terrifying tunnel of perception. Through the network of chakra veins her Byakugan revealed, time seemed to stretch, each millisecond an eternity in which she could make a thousand decisions and regret them all.
In front of her, the figure of Orochimaru was an abomination of nature. His neck, elongated in a way that defied human anatomy, placed his head inches from the shoulder of a paralyzed Sasuke Uchiha. She could see the venomous chakra pooling in the ducts of his fangs, a purple, corrupt energy that hummed with lethal intent. Beside her, the promise she made to Naruto burned in her chest, a fire that consumed her fear and transformed it into a cold, sharp resolve.
“I’m counting on you, Hinata.”
Her fingers, wreathed in the pale, cutting blue aura of the Gentle Fist, were about to fulfill that promise. Thirty-two strikes. A torrent of deadly precision designed to destroy an opponent's chakra system from within. Orochimaru's neck was a perfect target, an open invitation for annihilation. A single, precise impact on the spinal cord and it would all be over. It would be quick.
The trajectory of her fingers altered with a subtlety imperceptible to a normal eye. They did not seek to pierce. They did not seek to destroy.
They sought to seal.
The first strike landed with a dull, almost inaudible thud. Then the second, the third, the fourth. Her hands moved in a whirlwind of inhuman precision, each fingertip a surgical instrument. Each impact was a tiny, complex seal applied directly to the tenketsu that fed chakra to Orochimaru's fangs. It wasn't an attack technique; it was an interruption. A chakra dam built in a fraction of a second over a raging river.
Thirty-two times, her fingers struck key points on that grotesque extension of skin and muscle.
Orochimaru felt no pain. Pain was a primitive, predictable sensation. What he felt was far more disconcerting: an abrupt disconnection. It was as if a limb of his own body, one he had controlled perfectly for decades, had suddenly stopped responding. The power he was about to inject into Sasuke—the venom and the first stage of the Cursed Seal—stagnated. His fangs snapped shut in the air, less than a centimeter from the Uchiha's skin, but they were dry. Empty. Inert.
The surprise in his slit, golden eyes was genuine, a pure, unadulterated emotion he hadn't felt in years. The Hyuga girl's speed was impressive, no doubt, a predictable product of her clan's lineage. But this… this was different. The ability to analyze his chakra anatomy mid-motion, to identify the exact ducts carrying venom to his fangs, and to execute such a specific and complex sealing technique in the middle of what looked like a suicide attack… that wasn't talent. It was genius.
With a flexibility only a snake could mimic, he used Hinata's forced recoil to twist his body in mid-air. He landed several meters away, his bare feet making almost no sound on the leaf litter. He rose slowly, not like a warrior regrouping, but like a scientist who has just witnessed an inexplicable phenomenon. A smile of pure intellectual and predatory delight curved his pale lips.
"Well, well…" he hissed, his voice a murmur that slithered across the clearing like a poisonous fog. "How unexpected. You not only intercept an attack you couldn't have seen coming, but you neutralize it at its source. You didn't attack my body, little Hyuga. You attacked my technique. Such an exquisite specimen."
Sasuke collapsed to his knees. The brush with death had been so intimate that his entire body trembled in a delayed reaction. The venom from the previous snake bites burned in his arm, but it was a distant pain compared to the icy terror he had just felt. His Sharingan, still spinning with fury, had captured Hinata's movement as a series of blurred images. He saw her step between him and the Sannin, panting visibly, sweat shining on her brow from the massive expenditure of chakra and the mental strain of her feat.
She had saved him.
Hinata Hyuga. The weird, quiet girl from the academy who always looked at the ground. The one who stammered and blushed. She had just stood between him and a legend, and she hadn't died. She had succeeded.
"Sasuke!" Sakura’s voice cut through the tense silence. "Are you okay? Did he bite you?"
"I'm… fine," he lied, though his arm was shaking so violently he could barely hold it still. The lie sounded weak even to his own ears.
Kiba, with Akamaru growling at his feet, and Shino, with his insects buzzing audibly beneath his jacket, regrouped around them. They formed a defensive semicircle, a fragile but unbreakable wall of Konoha loyalty. They were terrified, the scent of their fear so thick you could almost taste it, but they didn't back down an inch.
Orochimaru observed them, one by one, his head tilted with curiosity. His gaze was not that of an enemy, but of a collector appraising rare and potentially valuable pieces.
"An Uchiha, consumed by a pride so wounded it becomes his own cage," he began, his voice gliding over each of them. "A pink-haired strategist whose chakra control is so flawless it borders on prodigious, though she herself doesn't yet understand it. A Hyuga who has surpassed the limitations of her own Kekkei Genkai to develop near-precognitive reaction speed. How fascinating."
His gaze fell upon the other two.
"An Inuzuka, whose wild instincts and connection with his beast grant him senses that surpass any known sensor. And an Aburame… a walking nest, an impenetrable swarm whose cold logic is his greatest weapon. What a wonderful, diverse harvest Konoha has produced this year."
His attention snapped back to Sasuke, and the mask of the curious scientist vanished, replaced by a look of possession, of pure hunger.
"But I only came to this exam for one particular fruit," he continued, his tongue flickering briefly between his lips. "Though I must admit, I've had a very, very pleasant surprise. The rest of you… you've already served your purpose. You have proven to be an excellent testing ground."
With one last, enigmatic smile that promised future torments and experiments, Orochimaru began to sink into the earth. It wasn't a normal concealment jutsu; his body seemed to liquefy, becoming a swirl of mud and shadows that was absorbed by the ground without a trace.
The silence he left behind was deafening, heavier and more oppressive than any battle cry.
"He's gone…" Kiba whispered, his voice hoarse with disbelief. Akamaru whimpered beside him, the little ninja dog still trembling from head to toe.
Shino took a step forward, his dark glasses reflecting the forest canopy. "His presence has vanished completely. Logic dictates he has either used a high-level concealment technique to continue observing us, or he has made a strategic retreat. Given his stated objective, the second option is the most likely. Nevertheless, we must not lower our guard."
But Sakura wasn't listening. She didn't waste a second. She knelt beside Sasuke, her focus entirely on him.
"Your arm. Let me see it. Now." Her tone wasn't a request; it was an order.
"Don't touch me," he hissed, a reflex of his wounded pride, but his resistance was weak, a dying fire.
She ignored him completely. With a gentleness that surprised everyone present, especially Sasuke, she took his left arm. The fabric of his sleeve was torn, and beneath it, the fang marks were two small, purple dots. The skin around them was swollen, hot to the touch, and was turning a dark, sickly hue.
Sakura closed her eyes, pushing aside the panic and fear. She had to think. She remembered the academy lessons, the books she had devoured. This was no ordinary poison. It was a chakra-infused venom, designed to attack the circulatory system on a cellular level. Conventional antidotes would be useless.
"Your chakra control is perfect, Sakura. It always has been." Naruto’s words, spoken with a carefree smile during a training session, came back to her. It wasn’t a compliment; it was a fact. It had always been her only innate ninja skill.
Control.
It was pure intuition, a direct application of her perfect control guided by desperation. She placed her hands over the wound. She took a deep breath, molding her chakra not to attack, not to defend, but to heal. A soft green light emanated from her palms, enveloping Sasuke's arm. It wasn't the powerful, overwhelming light of a legend like Tsunade, but a faint, focused, and meticulous glow.
Kiba, Shino, and Hinata watched, fascinated and silent. They had seen medical ninjutsu before, but this was different. They could feel the incredible density and control of the chakra Sakura was emitting.
Sasuke felt a warmth spreading from her hands, a pleasant sensation that began to replace the throbbing burn of the venom. His Sharingan, still active from adrenaline, showed him something astonishing. He could see Sakura's chakra, not as a flood of healing energy, but as a myriad of fine, green needles penetrating his tissue. They moved with purpose, seeking out and isolating the strands of Orochimaru's venomous energy, which clung to his circulatory system like purple leeches. Sakura's chakra needles enveloped the venomous strands and, simply, disintegrated them.
"What… what are you doing?" he asked, his voice a mixture of awe and suspicion. He couldn't comprehend it. Medical ninjutsu was an incredibly difficult discipline that required years of training. Since when could Sakura…?
"I'm saving your life, you idiot," she replied without opening her eyes, her voice tight with concentration. Fine lines of effort marked her forehead, and a drop of sweat trickled down her temple. "Now shut up and let me work."
The hardness in her voice silenced him. He remained still, watching with his dōjutsu as the microscopic battle unfolded in his own arm. He saw the swelling begin to subside, the dark purple of the skin fade to an irritated red. The wound didn't close completely—the two punctures were still there—but the venom, the real threat, had been neutralized.
Sakura pulled her hands away abruptly, as if they were burned. She gasped, taking deep gulps of air. The effort had left her pale and covered in a thin layer of cold sweat. Her chakra reserve, while well-controlled, was that of a genin. She had just spent nearly all of it on a single technique.
Sasuke looked at his arm. The pain had subsided to a dull throb. Then he looked at her, at her pale, exhausted face. The wall of his pride, already cracked by Hinata's intervention, crumbled a little more. He had been saved twice in less than ten minutes. Twice, by the two girls on his team he considered weaker than himself.
"Thanks…" he muttered. The word came out with difficulty, rough and almost inaudible, as if it burned his throat on the way out.
"You're welcome," she replied, a hint of her old smile returning, before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed backward, completely exhausted.
Hinata, who had been watching silently, reacted instantly. She lunged forward and caught Sakura just in time, stopping her head from hitting an exposed root. She held her fellow kunoichi, feeling the tremors of exhaustion in her body.
Silence fell over the group of genin once more, alone in the heart of a forest that suddenly seemed much darker and more dangerous.
…
The sun sank below the horizon, painting the sky over the Forest of Death a bloody orange that promised a violent night. Anko Mitarashi moved through the trees like a ghost, her movements silent, fluid, and lethal. She knew every corner of this place, every trap, every sound. It was her domain.
A chunin from the surveillance team, a young man named Mozuku, caught up to her, his face pale and sweaty. He landed heavily on a nearby branch, shattering the environment's stealth.
"Anko! We found them!" he said, out of breath.
She didn't respond verbally. She simply shot him a sharp look and leaped in the direction he indicated. She followed the man to a small clearing, hidden by a dense cluster of ferns. The scene that greeted them hit her with the force of a repressed memory, a trauma she had fought for years to bury.
Three bodies. Grass Village ninja, judging by their headbands. Or what was left of them. They were arranged in an almost ceremonial way. But the most horrifying part was their faces. They were gone, torn away with brutal precision, leaving only bloodied muscle and bone. It was a technique designed not only to kill, but to steal an identity. A grotesque signature she knew all too well.
"No… it can't be," she whispered, her voice barely a thread of air. A chill ran down her spine despite the sticky forest heat. "It's him. After all these years, he's back."
"What is it, ma'am?" Mozuku asked, swallowing hard at the carnage. "Who would do something like this?"
"This technique… It's his." The name didn't need to be spoken. It was a poison in the air, a shadow hanging over Konoha. "It's the technique he uses to steal his victims' faces and move undetected."
Anko's shock lasted only a second longer before it was replaced by the cold, sharp fury of a predator whose territory had been invaded. Her orders were curt, precise, and left no room for doubt.
"You!" she yelled at an aide who had just arrived. "Get me the profiles of all the Grass teams that entered the exam! I want names, faces, everything! Now!"
She turned to Mozuku.
"Inform Lord Hokage immediately! Use the highest emergency encryption! Tell him the snake is in the garden! Request two ANBU squads for immediate containment, I want a perimeter established around the entire central tower! Full authorization, code red!"
"Ma'am, what about you? What are you going to do?" the young chunin asked, his face filled with apprehension.
Anko turned her back to him, her gaze lost in the growing darkness of the forest. The sunset was over, and the shadows were stretching out like fingers.
"I'm going hunting," she declared, her voice laced with the venom of a decade of hatred.
She found her former master shortly after nightfall, near the edge of the surveillance perimeter. He stood on the head of a giant summoned snake, like a king on his unholy throne. The confrontation was instant, without preamble.
"I found you, Orochimaru."
The figure turned slowly. The moonlight illuminated his pale face, his reptilian eyes gleaming with malicious amusement.
"Anko… my sweet little student. Still so full of that useless, predictable anger. It touches me that you still remember me so fondly."
The battle was a blur of snakes and kunai, a deadly dance they both knew perfectly. She was fast, lethal, driven by fury. He was playful, dodging her attacks with insulting ease, like an adult toying with an angry child. Finally, in a desperate move, she managed to trap him in a hold, her arms wrapped around his torso.
"This ends now! Right here, right now! Sōjasōsai no Jutsu!" she screamed, channeling all her chakra into the suicide jutsu.
But the body in her arms dissolved into a swirl of mud and snakes. A shadow clone.
The real Orochimaru appeared behind her, his presence icy and silent. A touch on the back of her neck, right over the three-tomoe mark. A searing pain, like a hot iron, exploded from the seal. The Cursed Seal of Heaven, dormant for years, reactivated with unholy violence. She fell to her knees, a choked cry escaping her lips as the corrupt power surged through her nervous system.
"Are you after the Hokage's life?" she managed to ask through gasps, fighting to stay conscious. "Did you come back to finish what you started?"
Orochimaru let out a soft, sibilant laugh. "Kukuku… Sarutobi-sensei? Please, Anko. A decrepit old man whose time has long passed. My ambitions are far more… youthful."
His gaze shifted, peering through the trees in the direction he'd come from, toward the area where the rookie teams were fighting for their lives.
"I seek raw potential. A worthy vessel. Like his. I had a very interesting encounter just a little while ago. A group of very promising rookies. Especially the little Uchiha. He has his brother's eyes, that same arrogance and latent power."
He gave her a cruel smile.
"I've left him a little gift. A souvenir of our meeting, so he'll never forget me."
He pointed to his own neck, where an identical seal rested.
"I've marked him. Just like you. However…" he paused, a genuine spark of curiosity in his eyes, "there's an interesting girl on his team. A Hyuga. She managed to stop me from embedding the seal at the last moment. She performed a tenketsu sealing at a speed that shouldn't be possible for a genin. Fascinating."
He leaned down, his inhuman face inches from hers, illuminated by the pale moonlight.
"I let them live, Anko. Not out of mercy, but out of curiosity. I want to see how far they can go, how that potential will blossom. Afterward, when the fruit is ripe, I will come for the little Uchiha. This has only made my stay at home so much more interesting."
With those words, he turned and vanished into the shadows, leaving Anko alone, kneeling on the forest floor, a prisoner of her own pain and the terrible knowledge she now possessed. The snake wasn't just in the garden; it had already bitten the apple.