This mission was, by all accounts, a success.
Even if the one who issued it was just a baby—barely eight or nine months old, unable to even speak—the mission was accepted, executed, and completed.
In the ninja world, it's not uncommon for someone who cannot speak or act for themselves to be represented by another. And now, the red-haired woman had no room to deny it. Even if it felt like coercion, it was grounded in the instinct of a mother to protect her child.
And once a mission is completed, a price must be paid.
There was no need for gratitude. No obligation to repay a favor—though in essence, the situation was no different.
The red-haired woman knew better than to resist. She wasn't naïve. She understood clearly: she and her daughter had nothing now. Nothing but a bloodline valuable enough to interest someone like Orochimaru.
He hadn't just saved them out of kindness. He'd seen potential in Karin—her latent abilities. He intended to nurture that potential… until the day came when he could claim what he truly wanted.
This was a transaction. And like all such deals, the price would be paid in full—eventually.
The woman looked up. Her gaze flickered, avoiding the cold snake-like eyes staring down at her, but she forced herself not to look away.
"What do you want Karin to do?" she asked quietly. "Can I take her place?"
"You?" Orochimaru raised an eyebrow. "Of course not."
Her heart sank—until he continued:
"But that's only for now. If you work hard enough, awaken the full power of your Uzumaki blood… then maybe, just maybe, you won't be so easily replaced."
"I can," she said through clenched teeth, forcing herself to stand upright despite her injuries. "I will."
Orochimaru gave a soft, amused chuckle.
"We'll see. Just remember this: in the future, when I come calling, the one who's stronger—between you and your daughter—will be the one I choose. I won't care who answers… as long as they're useful."
The woman nodded, her face pale but eyes burning with fierce determination.
Orochimaru gave a subtle nod, eyes narrowing in satisfaction.
Of course, he wasn't telling her the full truth.
She believed she'd eventually be sacrificed for Karin—but that was a lie. What Orochimaru truly needed were her cells—Uzumaki cells, potent and regenerative. Just like Yamato, who carried the cells of the First Hokage, she could serve as a living source… one that didn't need to die.
Taken in small amounts, those cells wouldn't kill the host. But unlike Yamato, she couldn't be stockpiled and stored away. She was too old.
Twenty-four or twenty-five. Past the prime for shinobi development. Worse, she was physically weakened from years of blood loss.
To become a viable source of cells, she would need to undergo harsh physical conditioning. Her already fragile body would have to endure the fire of rebirth. Medicine might help a little, but not enough.
What she truly needed—was will.
She needed something to fight for. Something to protect. That kind of motivation… that kind of belief could unlock the true strength of the Uzumaki bloodline.
And Orochimaru? He was a master at drawing that strength out of people.
More than jutsu, more than technique—that was what he had learned best from the Third Hokage.
"The Will of Fire," he mused, licking his lips. Isn't this just another version of it?
He glanced at the red-haired woman, who was still standing despite her exhaustion.
"Rest for now," he said. "Tomorrow I'll have someone tend to your body. By the way—what's your name?"
The woman paused. Her lips parted, then closed again.
"…Forget it," Orochimaru said with a smile. "Names are just labels. I'll call you Aoi."
"As for your daughter… whether she keeps her name or not depends on how hard you fight."
The woman—Aoi—nodded quietly.
…
The next day, Orochimaru returned and brought Aoi and Karin—now rested after a night's sleep—to the medical room.
As they walked through the fortress, passing Konoha ninjas cast curious glances their way. Word had already spread after Orochimaru had food sent to their room, but seeing the pair in person only stirred more questions.
Who were this unfamiliar mother and daughter? Why were they here? What was their connection to Lord Orochimaru? And what were those strange marks on their arms and shoulders?
The gossip burned hot, and the thirst for answers surged.
But of course—who dared confront Orochimaru directly?
So they exchanged knowing looks and silent signals, quickly developing a code to communicate their speculations without a single word.
Still, while most wouldn't dare ask, there were exceptions.
As soon as the trio entered the medical room, Tsunade—seated on the edge of a hospital bed—immediately noticed them.
She raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk playing on her lips.
"Well, well. Orochimaru walking around with a mother and daughter? That's not something you see every day. What, are they yours?"
"They have little to do with me," Orochimaru replied with a cold smile. "But they have everything to do with you."
Tsunade's eyes narrowed.
"The Uzumaki and Senju clans are distant relatives," he added.
Tsunade's gaze lingered on Aoi and Karin's red hair. It wasn't exclusive to the Uzumaki, but among pure-blooded members, it was a defining trait. She had suspected it the moment they walked in, but hearing it confirmed was something else.
Still… the mother's vitality was low. Could she be mixed-blood?
Orochimaru, seeing the flicker of doubt in her expression, chuckled and gave a brief account of their history.
He wasn't concerned about secrets. The incident in Kusa was bound to become public knowledge, including the girl's unique constitution. And while others might covet it, Konoha's medical expertise far surpassed Kusa's. Even Danzo's interest lay beyond mere healing abilities.
After hearing the tale, Tsunade's face darkened. She slammed her hand down, shattering the wooden table beside her bed with a resounding bang.
"Those damn Kusa bastards!"
"Calm down," Orochimaru said coolly. "They're just trying to survive."
Tsunade shot him a glare of disbelief, but he went on:
"Yes, they're despicable. They're cruel. But if they hadn't done it, they would've died. In the face of death, moral principles become shackles."
"You want to judge them? Fine—but remember, not every village has Konoha's medical techniques. Not every ninja has your gifts. Most of them can't just lie down and heal."
Tsunade frowned. There was something more behind his words.
"What are you getting at, Orochimaru?"
"There's no shortage of cruelty in the ninja world. Some of it is unavoidable. You can't change everything," he said, his voice smooth and mocking. "But you, Tsunade, as the most skilled medical ninja in the world… you can do a lot."
"You could revolutionize medical ninjutsu. Build a proper system. With that, the number of tragedies like this would drop."
Tsunade stared at him, stunned.
Then Orochimaru smiled, his voice dripping with derision.
"Or… you could keep wasting your talent. Drowning in grief over Nawaki and Dan."
"Shut up!" Tsunade snapped, her rage boiling over. She lashed out and drove her fist straight into Orochimaru's chest.
Boom!
He crashed through the wall and landed in the rubble.
Lying amid the debris, Orochimaru looked up—and smiled.
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