Chapter 38: Subordinates
The Uchiha clan now had two acting elders—Uchiha Yasunari and Uchiha Narizawa both seasoned shinobi in their early fifties. Each had long since awakened the three-tomoe Sharingan, and both held the rank of elite jōnin, respected for their battlefield prowess and deep clan insight.
Fortunately, neither elder had been harmed in recent operations. Instead, upon hearing that two young Uchiha Gen and Shisui had been accepted as disciples by Orochimaru and Minato Namikaze, they summoned them over to extend their encouragement.
Ten minutes later, after a brief but formal conversation, Gen and Shisui took their leave and made their way toward the mess area for dinner.
Though ninja carried soldier pills for emergencies, under normal conditions they still ate regular meals onigiri (rice balls), mixed vegetables, and small cuts of preserved meat. Battlefield rations were always functional rather than flavorful; this wasn't a feast in the Land of Tea, nor was Konoha the culinary capital of the ninja world like the Land of Lightning's port towns.
The two separated after eating. Uchiha Gen returned to wash up, changed out of his uniform, and went to rest in his assigned tent.
A day spent marching, fighting, and coordinating had left him drained.
Interestingly, Gen and Shisui's tents were not within the Uchiha sector of the camp. Instead, they were located in close proximity to those of Orochimaru and Minato, a placement signaling their special status as personal disciples of two of Konoha's most prominent commanders.
After a full night's rest, the newly arrived Konoha reinforcements appeared exhausted, yet alert and ready the following morning.
Following a simple breakfast, Gen received a summons. The message: report to Orochimaru's tent.
As deputy commander, Orochimaru's tent was second in size only to Tsunade's. Of course, even for high command, field conditions weren't luxurious—the difference was purely in dimensions: slightly taller, broader, and more reinforced.
"Orochimaru-sensei, you called for me?"
Uchiha Gen stepped inside the tent and gave a respectful bow.
Orochimaru, who was mid-breakfast, didn't look up. "Hm. Sit down," he said, voice low and characteristically raspy, gesturing lazily with two fingers.
Gen took his seat across from the sannin.
"Would you like something to eat?"
"I've eaten already."
"Good. I called you here to inform you: you'll be leading a squad soon. You've been a jōnin for a while—you're long overdue."
Gen didn't hesitate to respond. "Do I have to? I'd rather not."
Orochimaru finally glanced up, golden eyes narrowing. "Your reason?"
"A lone operative has flexibility. Teammates, sometimes… slow you down."
He added, deadpan, "Surely you've heard the phrase, 'I'm not afraid of godlike enemies, but I fear pig-like teammates.'"
The truth, though unspoken, was that Gen intended to harvest souls during the upcoming mission something that would be far more difficult with a squad watching his every move.
Orochimaru chuckled, his tongue flicking slightly between his words. "Heh… no, I hadn't heard that one."
He leaned back, amused. "Your way of thinking is… problematic. Don't say things like that in front of others again."
While the shinobi world prized pragmatism, the idea of treating comrades as liabilities—especially among Konoha's ninja was considered heretical.
"I understand," Gen nodded. "I won't speak so freely in public."
He looked up again. "But is it acceptable to think this way, at least here?"
Orochimaru tilted his head, smiling faintly. "No. Because these won't be your teammates. They'll be your subordinates."
Gen blinked, then chuckled. "Ah… So that's the difference. It's a big one."
Despite the sarcastic edge in Gen's tone, Orochimaru didn't react. He had no intention of correcting a talent with potential. For him, as long as someone was brilliant or useful, tolerance came easy.
"If I were the overall commander," Gen mused aloud, "I'd probably demand complete autonomy. But I'm just the deputy's apprentice, after all."
"Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Minato all of them emphasize teamwork, perhaps more than anyone else. You're the only one who always walks a different path. That's going to be a challenge."
"Fine, you've convinced me," Gen replied with a faint smirk.
"But even though your teacher and I are technically just the deputies under Tsunade, I still retain considerable operational authority here."
Orochimaru set his food aside, casually flicked his right hand, and with a fluid snap of his forearm, extended it across the table to snatch a scroll. Retracting it swiftly, he tossed it toward Uchiha Gen.
"This is the list of chūnin supporting Konoha on the front this time. Pick any three you prefer—I'll assign the rest."
Tch. So this is what it's like to lean back in the shade beneath a great tree. Is this what it means to enjoy political cover?
Impressive. If it were Minato in charge, he would never have made such a private offer. His personality wouldn't allow it.
But Orochimaru? He was a different breed entirely. To a researcher, overstating budget needs or covertly maneuvering subordinates wasn't unethical. It was just methodology.
"You're amazing, Orochimaru-sensei."
Amazing? Orochimaru blinked. The slang word echoed strangely in his mind.
He gave it a moment. Of course—this disciple of his liked slipping in new-age terms and phrases during conversation.
After that small flattery, Uchiha Gen unsealed the scroll and unfurled it.
He quickly selected three names, stood, picked up the ink brush from Orochimaru's desk, and made a discreet mark beside their entries. Then he passed the scroll back.
"Hmm… three chūnin, each with distinct strengths one in ninjutsu, one in genjutsu, one in taijutsu. Gender balanced. All possess strong observational skills and heightened sensory awareness."
"Not bad. With that eye for selection, how bad could you be as my disciple?"
Orochimaru chuckled softly. "Hoho… you're becoming awfully comfortable."
"I can't help it, Sensei. That's just what happens when you have a great teacher."
Orochimaru: "…"
This kid. Clearly trying to flatter him but it didn't feel half bad.
There's an art to talking. After all, who doesn't enjoy hearing a well-placed compliment? Only the chronically cynical.
"Alright, if there's nothing else, you're dismissed. Your team will report to you this afternoon."
"Actually, I do have something else."
"Speak."
"Orochimaru-sensei, are we launching the assault today?"
"No. Kirigakure restructured their defensive layout overnight. Today, the reconnaissance squad will scout the changes. If all goes smoothly, we'll strike tomorrow. If complications arise, it'll be the day after or even the day after that."
"If morale is to be sustained, we'll need a solid victory soon. Right now, even our high-rank morale is running thin..."
Gen nodded in agreement. The senior command was clearly assessing the bigger picture well.
"This is classified information. Don't leak it."
"Of course, Sensei. I'm a jōnin, not some careless greenhorn."
"If there's nothing more, I'll get going now."
That last line used an unfamiliar term again. Orochimaru's lip twitched into a small curve. He waved him off with a lazy hand.
Uchiha Gen bowed with subtle respect and turned to leave.
"Oh before I go, Sensei, how's my snake ninjutsu progress?"
"I've already learned the Latent Shadow Snake Hands," Gen replied.
He had taken just under ten days to learn a snake-style summoning extension jutsu respectable progress.
"And what about Darkness Genjutsu?"
"Already mastered it."
Armed with Darkness Genjutsu and Dust Concealment, Gen's capacity to counter the Mist Ninja's sensory tactics had become formidable. If deployed carefully, it could allow for a critical breakthrough during this phase of the war.
Orochimaru resumed his meal. The taste was irrelevant—his priority was caloric energy.
Gen, unwilling to roam needlessly, returned to his tent to continue refining his chakra nature transformation studies and train with Zhu Rong and Wu Sheng, the dual spirits inhabiting his equipment.
By 2:00 p.m., after a modest lunch, Gen was resting in his tent. Zhu Rong and Wu Sheng lay nearby, the tent unusually quiet.
Suddenly, voices came from outside:
"Captain! Hyūga Tokuma, Baiyun Asahi, and Yūhi Kurenai reporting in!"
Yes these were the three chūnin Gen had handpicked. Though still new to their rank, all three would go on to become future Konoha jōnin.
Kurenai, Gen, and Obito were all born in Konoha Year 36, making them thirteen now one year older than Kakashi Hatake.
Hearing the commotion outside, Zhu Rong, though seemingly asleep, shot up like a startled carp and dissolved into Gen's left arm seal. Wu Sheng zipped upward and embedded itself into its sheath near Gen's waist.
Gen opened his eyes, stretched, sat upright and said, "I know. I'm coming out now."
He hadn't been standoffish about inviting them in the tent just wasn't large enough to accommodate four people comfortably.
Aside from the personal tents of commanders like Orochimaru or Tsunade, most ninja including jōnin.slept in standard-issue field tents. Uniformity was critical for mobility.
Outside, three figures stood side-by-side. The most striking was Yūhi Kurenai.
Female ninja were already rare, and among them, those with both beauty and talent were even rarer.
Kurenai had a delicate face, fair skin, and a gaze both intense and distant. Her deep-red eyes the source of her genjutsu talent stood out even more beneath her hitai-ate. She wore a short blue top, dark shorts, and black mesh that traced up her legs and across her collarbones. Her thick black hair framed her face and cascaded behind her like a raven's wing.
But right now, she was staring blankly, seemingly troubled.
Didn't Father say I'd be posted under his team?
Why did I get reassigned to a former classmate instead?
This… feels so awkward.
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