A small campfire flickered against the surrounding darkness, its glow pushing away the night.
Orochimaru picked up a branch from beside his feet and tossed it into the fire. The dry wood crackled as the flames eagerly consumed it.
"Your stamina and speed are still lacking," Orochimaru remarked blandly, his golden eyes resting on Nawaki and Mikoto as he recalled their training that day.
"Speed and stamina are crucial for any shinobi. In the coming days, I'll guide you in methods suited for each of you," he continued, his voice calm and deliberate.
While speaking, he turned the spit that held a wild boar over the fire. The skin blistered and oozed golden oil, releasing a rich aroma that spread through the camp.
"There are several ways to increase speed," Orochimaru went on. "The first is high-speed movement through pure physical training. This relies entirely on your body's natural fitness, which means relentless practice day after day."
He exhaled softly. "Some shinobi can move with extraordinary speed using only their physical prowess. They are rare, but your teacher, Nishimura Shin, happens to be one of them."
Uchiha Hayashi raised his brows in surprise.
He hadn't expected Nishimura—who usually came across as unreliable and constantly down on his luck—to be so highly regarded. If even Orochimaru praised him, then perhaps Nishimura wasn't just bragging after all.
Still… why was someone with such skill only a Chūnin? Was it just a façade? Nishimura looked poor, couldn't even afford a proper house, and had been turned down countless times in matchmaking. Could it be that he was hiding his true strength?
Hayashi's imagination began to run wild.
Maybe Uncle Nishimura was secretly the Third Hokage's illegitimate son. Or perhaps he was a shadow-level powerhouse burdened with a blood feud, quietly biding his time in the academy. Maybe, just maybe, he was one of those mysterious old men destined to hand the protagonist a "golden opportunity" at the right time.
But if that were true… why hadn't he approached Hayashi yet to pass down some forbidden jutsu or priceless inheritance?
Hayashi touched his face thoughtfully. Could it be because I'm too exceptional already?
While Hayashi's thoughts spiraled into fantasy, Orochimaru continued without noticing.
"Of course, besides pure physical training, there's also the Body Flicker Technique that relies on chakra stimulation. This method excites the body's cells with chakra, pushing them into bursts of high-speed movement. The most renowned masters of this are the Yotsuki clan of Kumogakure. Each Raikage is a leader among them, using Lightning Release to empower their speed."
His gaze shifted toward Mikoto and Hayashi. "If I recall correctly, both of you possess Lightning Release, don't you?"
Mikoto gave a simple nod. Hayashi, still half lost in daydreams about Nishimura's secret life, didn't answer.
Orochimaru's lips curved faintly, though he didn't press the matter.
"There's also the Body Flicker Technique using ninjutsu. This method uses chakra to swap or displace the body through various techniques, though it usually requires hand seals. One of the most famous users is Hanzō of the Salamander, leader of Amegakure. His movements are like phantoms, and combined with his summoning, he's nearly unstoppable. I've seen him fight before—his speed is beyond me."
He paused, his voice lowering slightly. "And then, of course, there's the Second Hokage's Flying Thunder God Technique. A space–time ninjutsu. To this day, no one has been able to replicate it."
Orochimaru deliberately avoided mentioning Hayashi's father, Uchiha Kagami, whose unique Body Flicker combined several forms into one. It was still, at its core, part of the same foundation.
The conversation stretched as Orochimaru shared knowledge about speed and ninjutsu. When immersed in his craft, his words flowed endlessly, transforming him from a brooding youth into an eager instructor.
Eventually, his voice quieted. He carved pieces of roasted boar and handed them to Hayashi, Mikoto, and Nawaki.
The meat glistened under the firelight, its savory scent filling the camp.
"Eat. You've been training hard all day," Orochimaru said gently, his hoarse tone carrying an uncharacteristic warmth.
Hayashi blinked at him in disbelief. Gentle? From Orochimaru? This has to be some kind of trick… Snake Uncle must be an imposter!
Orochimaru gestured toward the fire. "Remember, campfires like this should only be lit in safe territory. In enemy lands, such carelessness is as good as inviting death. And food—if your rations run out on a long mission, you'll need to hunt like this. A shinobi must always be resourceful."
He spoke with calm authority, instilling in the three of them the lessons he had learned through years of missions. These were truths carved from survival, wisdom passed down for them to inherit.
Hayashi suddenly tilted his head. "Orochimaru-sama, I sensed traces of genjutsu around us earlier. What's going on?"
Orochimaru regarded him with faint admiration and nodded. "Your sensitivity is sharp. That's correct—I've laid a genjutsu barrier around us, reinforced with traps. They'll alert us if enemies approach. A team that doesn't prepare defenses is a team that won't survive."
He took another bite before turning back to Hayashi. "I've heard from Tsunade about your genjutsu talent. What you use is unlike most I've seen. Ordinary genjutsu lacks the concealment and potency that yours naturally has. The most remarkable part is—"
"That I can cast them without hand seals," Hayashi interrupted with a small smile.
It puzzled him as well. His hand seal speed was good—fast, even—but genjutsu seemed to flow differently in his hands. Many techniques came to him without the need for hand seals at all. And this was before awakening his Sharingan. If he had that power, his illusions would become truly terrifying.
He had even asked his system about it, but no clear answer came. So, he simply chalked it up to his innate talent. After all, he was the father of Shisui, who would one day be called the strongest genjutsu user of the Uchiha clan.
Orochimaru gave a slow nod, his gaze thoughtful. "Every shinobi has their own unique gift. Genius can't be explained away with simple logic."
Looking at Hayashi, Mikoto, and Nawaki gathered around the fire, Orochimaru suddenly felt a flicker of nostalgia.
For an instant, he saw himself years ago—standing alongside Tsunade and that fool Jiraiya, guided by their teacher Hiruzen. Young, inexperienced, bickering yet united. Missions and battles had tempered them until they became the Sannin who could shoulder the name of Konoha.
A rare, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.
"Teacher Hiruzen," he thought silently, "is this the same feeling you had when you led us out into the world?"
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