Although the battle had seemed balanced earlier, with Hayashi, Mikoto, and Nawaki holding their ground, everything had shifted in a single moment. Orochimaru's final counterattack had collapsed their formation, reminding them how wide the gap truly was.
From beginning to end, Orochimaru had only used his Hidden Shadow Snake Hands and a single Earth Release technique. That alone had been enough to dismantle them.
"You three still have a long way to go," Orochimaru said evenly, brushing the dirt from his robes. His sharp gaze swept across them like a scalpel.
Then, in the same calm tone, he began his critique. "Your tactics are good. The trap you set, the feint you used to lure me into striking, your mix of genjutsu, ninjutsu, and taijutsu… all excellent. At your level, you're already more than qualified to attempt the Chunin Exams."
For a moment, They brightened with pride. But Orochimaru's expression didn't soften.
"However, your fighting style is far too reckless." His eyes fixed on Hayashi. "Your genjutsu is strong. But because of that strength, you've grown overconfident. Do you understand which illusions actually work against me? Some shinobi can't be trapped with genjutsu so easily. Your reliance will cost you if you don't learn restraint."
Hayashi pressed his lips together, listening.
"And you two," Orochimaru turned to Mikoto and Nawaki, "when I slipped out of your formation, your reaction was slow. Hayashi had already launched a kunai infused with chakra and illusion, but you did nothing to follow through. Hesitation can kill."
The words stung, but they were true.
"The essence of battle," Orochimaru continued, "is not only strength, but understanding. If you want to become shinobi who can stand on their own, you must learn to read both your enemy and yourselves."
With that, Orochimaru gave a faint sigh. His form dissolved into smoke with a soft poof, leaving the three of them alone in the forest clearing.
---
The days that followed were relentless.
By day, they traveled using Body Flicker to cover ground, but most of their time was consumed by Orochimaru's ambushes. He attacked at all hours, using different tactics each time.
More than fifty times in only a handful of days.
At first, his ambushes were almost obvious—broken branches, footprints, even chakra signatures he left behind on purpose. But soon, they grew sharper, more devious, until even the wind rustling through leaves could make Hayashi tense.
He learned quickly that Orochimaru could be anywhere. Even a pile of dung on the side of the road might conceal him.
Fatigue set in. Hayashi caught himself growing paranoid, dark circles forming under his eyes. At the slightest sound, he was summoning a Shadow Clone before crouching down, ready for an attack.
It was exactly the lesson Orochimaru intended to teach. In true battle, the enemy wouldn't announce themselves. Survival depended on instinct sharpened through constant pressure.
And yet, despite how merciless the training felt, Orochimaru also gave them space to grow. At times, he left a deliberate flaw in his attacks, an opening the three could exploit if they were clever enough. He demanded their best, but he never made the training impossible.
Still, Hayashi couldn't help but feel the strain. During one short break, he cupped his hands to a stream, gazing at his reflection in the water. His eyes looked weary, his hair disheveled, but determination burned in his expression.
Mikoto, kneeling nearby to refill her canteen, glanced at him. "You're pushing yourself too hard, Hayashi."
He gave a small smile. "That's what Orochimaru-sensei wants. We'll get stronger this way."
Mikoto hesitated, then nodded. She respected his resolve, though part of her worried he was carrying too much responsibility alone.
---
At last, after days of exhaustion, they neared their destination.
The forest thinned, revealing a wide plain. Beyond it, the Land of Rivers stretched out, bordered by its namesake river cutting through the land like a silver ribbon.
"It's close now," Orochimaru said when he reappeared, unrolling a scroll map. His pale finger traced their path. "Just ahead lies a small settlement. We'll rest there tonight and replenish supplies."
Hayashi and the others followed his gaze. Relief flickered through them at the thought of finally sleeping without fear of sudden attack.
"Before we make our move, you'll need your strength," Orochimaru continued. "You're nearing your first real mission. Do not waste your energy."
The three young shinobi nodded.
From the map, they could see the mission point clearly marked—Windmill Village. It was an unstable place crawling with rogue ninja, bandits, and criminals. Their assignment was to investigate and, if necessary, eliminate those responsible for the chaos.
"There may even be pirates mixed among them," Orochimaru said. His tone was casual, but his eyes gleamed sharply.
That fact made Mikoto tense, while Nawaki clenched his fists in excitement.
"Before we enter the town," Orochimaru instructed, "you must change your clothes. If you go in wearing clan uniforms, you'll alert any spies."
Hayashi nodded. He understood. Their group was far too conspicuous: two Uchiha in dark coats, Nawaki in Senju colors, and Orochimaru himself in a jonin vest. They stood out like a beacon.
"That's true," Nawaki admitted, "we'd only end up warning them. I already thought of that." Then he paused, eyes widening. "Wait… I only brought my Senju uniform! No casual clothes!"
Orochimaru gave him a thin smile. "So you're the only one who forgot."
"What? No way!" Nawaki protested, pointing at Hayashi. "He didn't bring any either! I checked his backpack when he wasn't looking."
Before Hayashi could retort, Mikoto calmly pulled a scroll from her pouch. She unsealed a folded set of clothes and held them out.
"Here, Hayashi. I knew you'd forget, so I brought an extra for you."
Hayashi blinked at her, a little caught off guard, then accepted the bundle with a small nod. "Thanks, Mikoto."
Nawaki's jaw dropped. "Seriously? You even prepared for him?"
Hayashi smirked, shaking the clothes out in his hands. "Looks like you're the one out of luck, Nawaki."
Nawaki clutched his chest dramatically. "Betrayed… by my own teammate…"
Hayashi's lips curled slightly. "If you don't mind, you could always wear Mikoto's spare. I'm sure it'd suit you."
Mikoto covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. Nawaki's face turned scarlet. "You've gotta be kidding me!"
The three of them broke into laughter, the tension from days of constant ambushes finally lifting, if only for a moment.
---