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"Awake now?"
Omoi pushed open the door, carrying a bowl of porridge.
Uchiha Mikoto, lost in thought, jolted in surprise before hurriedly pulling the sheets over herself.
Like covering one's ears to steal a bell.
Amused, Omoi set the porridge on the table. "Eat up."
The aroma made Mikoto's stomach growl audibly.
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
She hadn't eaten since last night—and after expending so much energy, she was starving.
Her earlier focus on the Mangekyō Sharingan had temporarily dulled the hunger.
"You... go out first."
Her voice was soft, pleading but devoid of threat.
Omoi stepped closer.
"P-please... let me go."
Mikoto shrank back against the wall, her expression pitiful.
"Doubting my character now?"
Omoi tilted her chin up, studying her face. "Who initiated things last night? Or have you forgotten?"
Mikoto froze.
...Right. She had been the one to act first.
"I... I just..."
Stammering, she trailed off, her face burning crimson as memories resurfaced.
"Sorry... I... sinned."
In her fluster, she defaulted to apology.
"If you've sinned, atone by wearing this."
Omoi produced a black nun's habit. "It'll ease your guilt."
Leaving the outfit beside her, he exited without another word.
Mikoto stared blankly at the garment before reluctantly slipping into it—her face heating up at the unfamiliar sensation of black thigh-highs.
Peeking outside to confirm Omoi's absence, she finally picked up the porridge.
A tentative sip surprised her—it was good.
A far cry from last night's ordeal.
—
After briefing Uzumaki Ena, Omoi returned to find Mikoto had polished off the bowl.
Her lips glistened, no longer parched.
The nun's habit clung to her curves more enticingly than he'd anticipated.
"Want more?"
He gestured to the empty bowl. "There's plenty."
Mikoto pressed a hand to her stomach and nodded shyly.
Two more bowls later, she finally spoke up.
"Why... didn't my Mangekyō awaken last night?"
"Did you think it'd be that easy?"
Omoi grinned. "No worries—we've got time. It'll happen eventually."
"..."
Mikoto stiffened.
Last night had drained her courage entirely.
She'd hoped to end this torment quickly—only to realize it was just the beginning.
"Nothing worth having comes free, Aunt Mikoto."
Omoi patted her head. "Keep striving."
Mikoto bit her lip but said nothing, returning to her porridge.
"From now on, train your ocular power with Ena."
Omoi stood. "Your current proficiency is forcibly enhanced—unhealthy for you."
"Okay."
She agreed meekly.
Clueless about the specifics, she'd simply follow his lead.
"Oh, and return Tayuya's flute."
Omoi smirked. "She's livid it's been missing this long. Just... don't mention what you used it for."
Mikoto turned scarlet—a living steam engine.
Mortified beyond words.
—
Hokage Building.
Omoi arrived late for his first day as Hokage Advisor—not that anyone batted an eye.
Danzō had set such a low bar.
His office, freshly cleaned, looked presentable.
The workload? Surprisingly manageable.
Thanks to the Secretary Corps' preliminary screening, his role boiled down to stamping approvals or rejections.
(A task he blitzed through in under an hour.)
"Deliver these to the Hokage."
An ANBU materialized to whisk the documents away.
With time to spare, Omoi set out to visit Orochimaru—this time, officially.
—
Orochimaru's Residence.
Snake eyes tracked Omoi's approach long before he reached the door.
Inside, an unexpected guest: Mitarashi Anko, cheeks bulging with dango.
"Omoi?"
She swallowed hastily. "Long time no see!"
"Three, four years?"
Omoi nodded. "Since that mission behind Cloud's lines."
"Want some?"
Anko offered a skewer.
"Pass."
Omoi eyed her stash. "That much sugar'll go straight to your hips."
"Nah! I eat this yearly—never gain weight!"
She patted her flat stomach proudly.
That's the curse mark's doing, Omoi mused. Wait till Orochimaru ditches you.
"Congrats on becoming Advisor, by the way!"
Anko grinned. "Gotta cover for me if I mess up!"
"With Orochimaru as your sensei, you're fine."
Omoi chuckled. "But sure, I've got you."
(Orochimaru might be a sociopath, but he was a decent teacher—to everyone except Sasuke.)
"Yesss!"
Anko pumped a fist.
"Waiting for Orochimaru?"
Omoi asked.
"Yeah... but he's 'busy.'"
Her smile dimmed. "Haven't seen him in ages."
Busy avoiding you, Omoi thought.
Anko's enthusiasm clashed too starkly with Orochimaru's... everything.
"Where's Yuugao?"
He recalled her other teammate.
(Itachi had defected, but Yuugao remained.)
"Dunno."
Anko's expression soured.
She did know—Yuugao was shadowing Orochimaru.
Why her and not me?
The injustice stung.
Then—like flipping a switch—her face lit up.
"Sensei! You're back!"
"Hn."
Orochimaru's gaze slid past her to Omoi.
"I hear you've mastered Sage Mode?"
Anko's smile faltered.
Sensei... look at me too...
"Got lucky."
Omoi shot her a sympathetic glance before answering.
"Luck doesn't factor into Sage training."
Orochimaru's tongue flicked out, intrigued.
Only two living Sage Mode users existed: Jiraiya (incomplete) and Omoi.
Studying him could yield breakthroughs even the Cursed Seal hadn't.
Omoi felt like a Gundam model under a collector's scrutiny.
"I'm here on official business," he redirected.
"Oh?"
Orochimaru's smile didn't reach his eyes.
(Not that he planned to act—yet. Between Omoi's strength and Tsunade's wrath, the risk outweighed the reward.)
"Anko, give us the room."
Omoi softened the dismissal: "Classified Hokage matters."
Her face fell, but she obeyed.
The temperature dropped the moment she left.
Orochimaru's protectiveness over Anko, however faint, was telling.
"Lord Orochimaru, we'd like you to lead Wood Style research."
"Konoha already has Hashirama cell implantation."
"Lady Tsunade refuses implantation. She seeks awakening."
"Awakening?"
Orochimaru scoffed. "The Hokage title has made her naive."
"Impossible?"
"Near-zero odds."
Orochimaru waved a hand. "Tell her not to waste my time."
"Non-zero means possible."
Omoi smiled. "We're aware of your... collaboration with Danzō."
"A threat?"
Killing intent saturated the room.
"A partnership."
Omoi remained unfazed. "Your experiments need Konoha's resources—and discretion."
"How amusing."
Orochimaru's laugh was icy. "Tsunade doesn't know her pet viper's schemes, does she?"
(A second Danzō? Workable.)
"Terms: No targeting Konoha shinobi or civilians. But prisoners are yours."
"Agreed."
Orochimaru had no plans to abandon Konoha yet.
As for the Wood Style project? Half-hearted efforts would suffice.
"One more thing—I'm assigning you a student."
Omoi's thoughts turned to Yakushi Kabuto.
No better teacher existed.
If Kabuto learned nothing, alternative measures (like Kotoamatsukami) remained.
Orochimaru nodded indifferently.
"Pleasure doing business."
Omoi bowed slightly before leaving.
"Sensei!"
Anko rushed back in, thrusting her remaining dango at him.
Orochimaru's tongue lashed out, devouring skewers and all.
Anko beamed despite the horror.
—
Konoha Orphanage.
Kabuto had hit a research wall.
Omoi's increasingly complex projects outpaced his self-taught knowledge.
(Orochimaru's notes only went so far.)
"Kabuto."
Omoi dropped onto the rooftop beside him.
"Where are my assistants?"
Kabuto adjusted his glasses. "Hoshino alone isn't cutting it."
His current projects:
Ōtsutsuki Chakra Reversion
Kaguya Clan's Bone Cancer
Neither was simple.
"About that..."
Omoi sidestepped the question. "I got you a teacher. Orochimaru."
"Orochimaru?"
Kabuto's eyes widened. "He agreed?"
"Not exactly."
Omoi summarized their deal. "Learn what you can."
(If not, a Tsukuyomi crash course awaited Orochimaru.)
"Understood."
Kabuto's glasses gleamed with anticipation.
"Oh, and..."
Omoi patted his shoulder. "I'll send you something special soon."
(Enter: Shinnō. His forbidden medical jutsu would prove invaluable.)
A token ensured Kabuto's safety—and loyalty.
[Kabuto's fate altered. +37 Fate Points.]
The modest gain confirmed no betrayal.
—
Hokage's Office.
"Lady Tsunade requests your presence."
Yūhi Kurenai bowed in her crimson wrappings.
"Just 'Omoi' is fine, Kurenai-nee."
The honorific felt odd.
('Aunt' would've been rude—she wasn't that old.)
"Only in private."
Kurenai's professionalism wavered with a small smile.
As a minor clan, the Yūhi couldn't afford breaches in decorum.
"Deal."
Omoi stood. "Lead the way."
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