Orochimaru's attack slowed.
Hiroki instantly noticed it—the rhythm of Orochimaru's strikes faltered, his movements sluggish, his momentum fading.And then, Orochimaru stopped completely.
"You've passed the assessment," he said in that familiar low, rasping voice. "Come here tomorrow. Same time. Same place."
Before Hiroki could even blink, Orochimaru's figure dissolved—vanishing soundlessly into the air like ink bleeding into water.
[Connection with "Orochimaru" terminated.]
The alarm in Hiroki's consciousness cut off. The tension in his body finally eased as he let out a long, shaky breath.Another test survived.
At that same moment, on the training field of the Konoha Academy, Orochimaru—who was quietly questioning a group of students—suddenly paused.
The torrent of information from his dispelled shadow clone surged into his mind like a flood bursting through a dam.It wasn't just a combat report—it was a full sensory replay. Every move, every emotion, every moment of offense and defense, experienced in first person.
He had felt his illusion being analyzed, dismantled, and broken apart by something unseen.Something he couldn't explain.
That was a genjutsu, he thought, his expression darkening.In all of Konoha, aside from the Uchiha with their Sharingan, no one could resist an illusion at that level.
But this child—this Hiroki Sawada—had done it.
And it wasn't just raw resistance.The Uchiha typically broke illusions by sheer willpower and chakra disruption. But this boy… he responded. He analyzed it, step by step, as if deconstructing the illusion from within.And the method he used wasn't anything taught in the ninja academy.
Orochimaru's golden eyes gleamed with curiosity.Where did this knowledge come from?
How many times had he done something like this before?
"Fascinating…" he murmured, a strange smile curling at the edges of his lips.
His thoughts drifted briefly to one of the Second Hokage's forbidden techniques—Impure World Reincarnation.A jutsu capable of calling the dead back from the underworld.
If the dead can return… then what about the living?Could a soul be reborn—or take over another's body?
Orochimaru chuckled softly.Maybe this boy wasn't a prodigy at all.Maybe he was something else.An outsider.A reincarnate.A monster hiding in the body of a child.
But soon, his analytical mind focused on another detail—one that could be crucial.
Throughout the entire test, Hiroki had stayed purely defensive. He never once attacked Orochimaru's shadow clone.That went against everything the academy taught.
Shinobi were trained to strike decisively when given an opening.Standing still and defending wasn't just rare—it was unnatural.
Only a specific kind of person fought like that.Children of nobility. Heirs of powerful clans.People trained not for war, but for survival—pampered, protected, never truly needing to kill. They were the kind who froze under pressure because they'd never faced death head-on.
But Hiroki Sawada… was an orphan.
Orochimaru licked his lips, deep in thought.So why does an orphan fight like a noble?
Could it be… he doesn't have any real offensive techniques?
Yet, Jiraiya's report clearly described Hiroki's illusion-based ability—a technique requiring physical contact to activate, capable of instantly dissolving shadow clones, with effects that lingered on the real body.So, he did have a counterattack.
Logically, the best move under illusionary pressure would be to charge forward, make contact, and trigger that attack.But Hiroki never did.He simply endured—methodically dismantling Orochimaru's illusion instead of retaliating.
It was pure defense. Calm. Controlled. Calculated.And it wasn't an advantage.
"Too cautious…" Orochimaru muttered, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint, cold smile."Yes… far too cautious."
To Orochimaru, that wasn't a flaw. It was an opportunity.
At the edge of the Forest of Death, Hiroki finally exhaled.He had made it through another bizarre trial. Barely.
He turned to speak to Kushina—but stopped.She was staring at him, her expression a complicated mix of confusion, admiration, and something else he couldn't quite name.
What just happened?
Kushina's thoughts were a blur.
Just a moment ago, she'd been flustered by Hiroki's sudden confession—her heart pounding like a drum—and then, before she could even process it, a green snake had crawled out of his mouth.
And then… everything stopped.The forest returned to silence.Orochimaru was gone.The test was over.
But Hiroki stood there, barely winded, as though nothing had happened.
Was I the only one caught up in that illusion?
Again.It had happened again.
In the Kumogakure kidnapping incident—it was Hiroki who saved the day.During Jiraiya's evaluation—it was Hiroki who found the solution.And now, facing that creepy snake-like teacher, she'd been useless. Helpless.
He'd handled everything effortlessly.While she… had done nothing.
A familiar, bitter feeling coiled around her heart like a tightening vine—powerlessness.
Her dream of becoming Hokage suddenly felt childish. Distant. Impossible.
No!
Kushina clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms.
She refused to be the one who always needed protection.She wanted to stand beside him, not behind him.She needed to become stronger.
Her thoughts flashed back to when she first arrived in Konoha—Back when the village kids mocked her red hair and strange accent, leaving her to cry alone in the corner.
Until one day, a gentle old woman with the same crimson hair found her, patted her head, and said softly:"I'm from the Uzumaki clan too. If you ever find yourself in trouble, come to me."
Grandma Mito.
The warmth of that memory reignited the determination in her eyes.
She remembered where Grandma Mito lived—the tall building shaped like a whirlpool tower near the center of the village.
If she wanted to become stronger—if she wanted to truly change—that was where she needed to start.