"Why do you only eat plain rice? Are you saying the food I made isn't tasty?"
Tsunade's golden eyes sparkled with mock irritation as she leaned forward, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. She had sensed something off about Orochimaru for days, a subtle unease that no amount of cheerful small talk could hide.
"I was… thinking about a few things," Orochimaru replied after a pause, his voice low but even. "Besides, I feel perfectly confident about your cooking."
Tsunade arched a brow. "Confident enough to ignore the soy sauce chicken I spent all afternoon perfecting?"
He offered a thin smile and reached for the dish she loved most, sliding it toward her instead. "If you think it's flavorless, I suppose I'll just eat it with Mio next time."
"I never said it was flavorless!" Tsunade puffed out her cheeks and glared. "You're the one who keeps making things up!"
"Alright, alright. I'll eat properly. No need to be angry." Orochimaru chuckled softly and pushed the plate back. The sound was light, but inside he felt the weight of thoughts he could not yet share. Some worries were simply too heavy to bear out loud.
---
The Temple of Masks
Far from the warmth of their shared meal, the Whirlpool Country's Uzushiogakure lay quiet beneath the evening sky. The Mask Storage Temple loomed like a sentinel of forgotten history.
Inside, Uzumaki Chigusa looked up from the enormous, leather-bound book balanced on her lap. "Ah, isn't that our busy bee? What brings you here?" Her smile was elegant, almost regal—though the eerie, ancient volume she held undercut the effect.
From Orochimaru's chakra alone, Chigusa sensed something amiss. Normally his energy was calm and slightly buoyant—perhaps because he secretly enjoyed outsmarting assassins—but today it felt heavy and tense.
The teasing smile slipped from her face. With a flick of her wrist, the book vanished into a sealing scroll. "Is there a problem?" she asked, stepping closer.
"I want to look through the Uzumaki Clan's library," Orochimaru said simply. His amber eyes revealed nothing, but his mind churned. He hoped to find a method—any method—to keep a Jinchūriki alive even after a Tailed Beast was extracted. If no answer existed, he would have to create one himself.
Chigusa tilted her head, crimson hair spilling over one shoulder. "It's not impossible to let you in, but don't even think about the advanced sealing scrolls. You'll be twelve soon, and Grandma Mito plans to teach you those techniques herself. Honestly, I'm jealous—I wish she'd teach me directly."
Her gaze roved over him critically, as if measuring his height. "Have you grown taller lately? Your little fried eggs have, too."
Orochimaru froze. "Thank you ever so much for your concern over my…development." He turned away, cheeks faintly pink. Perhaps the medicinal teas he drank were to blame, but he was developing faster than his peers. The last thing he wanted was to rival Tsunade's famously…impressive build. What others might find attractive only felt like a burden to him.
Chigusa's eyes narrowed playfully. "So why the sudden interest in our library?"
Orochimaru frowned. "Grandma Mito… she carries a Tailed Beast inside her. You know that, don't you?"
"Of course." Chigusa began to answer, then stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning. "Wait—how do you know that?"
He met her gaze without flinching. "As she grows older, I worry the Nine-Tails might harm her. If someone else had to seal it next… what would happen to her?"
The truth softened Chigusa's expression. "Ah, so that's why your chakra feels different." She gave a small, relieved smile. "No wonder Grandma Mito is so fond of you. You really are a considerate boy."
She gestured for him to follow. "Come on. I'll show you."
---
The Hidden Entrance
The Uzumaki library lay deep beneath the Mask Storage Temple, concealed by a complex sealing array. Without someone trained in the Uzumaki arts, no one could even sense it, let alone enter.
As they walked through the temple's main hall, countless masks stared down from their perches—each carved with unsettling precision. Orochimaru's eyes lingered on a pale mask etched with dark, grinning fangs. The Shinigami mask. He knew its legend well: in another time, another life, the original Orochimaru would use it to summon the Death God and wrest power from the dead.
"Since ancient times," Chigusa explained, noticing his interest, "people believed masks held mysterious power. Every one here has a story. Don't touch them carelessly, or an evil spirit might take a bite out of you!" She flexed her fingers like claws, trying to spook him.
Orochimaru merely raised an eyebrow. "If all evil spirits resembled you, I'd have a hard time being afraid."
"Ugh! Can't you humor me even a little?" Chigusa huffed, then formed a rapid series of hand signs. Her playful expression hardened into solemn focus.
"Seal Protection Magic Circle—release!"
Her vibrant red hair lifted as chakra swirled around them. The stone floor trembled, and a massive spiral of light etched itself into the temple's heart. With a grinding rumble, the hidden library slowly rose from the earth, cloaked in a faint mist of ancient chakra.
Orochimaru's eyes widened despite himself. To guard knowledge with such a technique, the secrets within had to be priceless.
Chigusa exhaled, sweat beading on her brow, and swung open the heavy wooden door. A wave of dust billowed outward, carrying the dry scent of centuries.
---
A Sea of Dust and Secrets
"Has this place never been cleaned?" Orochimaru coughed, squinting through the haze.
"The magic circle only keeps it hidden underground," Chigusa explained, covering her nose. "No one's been here in ages. If you didn't ask, I certainly wouldn't bother."
Orochimaru stepped inside. Shelves of ancient tomes and brittle scrolls stretched into shadowed corners. Their parchment glowed faintly with sealing scripts, and the air hummed with dormant power.
"Are the sealing-technique manuscripts here?" he asked.
"No." Chigusa patted his head with a teasing smile. "Don't even think about sneaking a look at those. Grandma Mito will teach you herself soon enough."
He waved her off. "Then you're unnecessary. Go on, scary adult."
"You wound me!" She pretended to sob dramatically, but he was already lost among the shelves, ignoring her performance. With a theatrical sigh, she turned and left.
Moments later, a fit of coughing echoed from inside. "Cough—cough—how many years has this place been abandoned?"
"I forgot to warn you," Chigusa called through the door, laughing. "The dust is worse than it looks."
"Get out—cough, cough—before I seal you outside," came his muffled reply.
Chigusa chuckled and stepped back. For a long moment she stared at the closed door, thinking of Grandma Mito and the dangerous path Orochimaru seemed intent to walk. She decided not to tell anyone about his visit. Those who meddled with Tailed Beasts rarely met happy ends.
---
Ten Readers, One Mind
Hours later, when she returned with food and water, Chigusa blinked in astonishment. Inside the library, ten identical Orochimaru figures sat scattered among the stacks, each absorbed in a different book.
"Shadow Clones? You're using the Second Hokage's technique for… reading?" she whispered, half impressed, half exasperated.
Orochimaru didn't look up. "Just because you find these texts obscure doesn't mean I can't read them."
Chigusa peered over his shoulder. The volumes were filled with archaic poetry—hymns to the Sage of Six Paths and cryptic verses about the Rabbit Goddess. She doubted anyone fully understood them. But Orochimaru's calm focus never wavered.
"You're unbelievable," she murmured, setting the food on a nearby table.
---
Threads of Chakra
After days of study, Orochimaru carefully rolled up a final scroll and replaced it on the shelf. "Grandma Mito has always treated me like her own grandchild," he said quietly. "She is… the best person to me in Konoha."
Chigusa's eyes softened. Teacher Sarutobi cared for him, yes, but there was calculation behind the kindness—an eye on the next generation of the village. Mito's affection, however, was pure.
Despite combing through every text on Tailed Beasts, Orochimaru found no sure way to save a Jinchūriki once the beast was removed. The ancient records were clear: those who tried to contain a Tailed Beast inside their own bodies rarely survived.
Yet the research was not fruitless. He pieced together crucial truths:
Tailed Beasts are living chakra given form, and even if destroyed, their essence eventually reforms.
The death of a Jinchūriki after extraction likely stems from catastrophic chakra loss, draining both physical and spiritual energy until the body collapses.
He tapped a finger thoughtfully against a scroll. If the host's chakra intertwined with the beast's, then removing the Tailed Beast would rip away the host's own life force. The logic was cruel but undeniable.
---
Orochimaru leaned back against the ancient shelves, eyes narrowing. If only that meddling fool Hashirama hadn't captured the Tailed Beasts in the first place—hadn't distributed them like weapons to other nations—none of this would be necessary.
A cold smile ghosted across his lips. If I ever revive him with Edo Tensei, I'll be sure to lecture him with the worst ingredients I can find. Look what he's done to the world he claimed to protect.
Still, he could not give up. For Grandma Mito, for Tsunade, and perhaps for reasons he dared not name, Orochimaru would keep searching. Somewhere in the intertwining of chakra and will, a solution waited to be found.
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