IDKjust
patreon
Chapter 143n
🕑 Added 2025-08-28 18:37:02 +0000 UTCChapter 143n
2-in-1-chapter
-----------------
The irregular sound of blood dripping into puddles, tick tick, echoed clearly in his ears. The damp, icy wind brushed against Haku’s skin. His nose caught the thick stench of blood, and his stomach churned with nausea that rose up again and again in his chest.
His face and hands were sticky. The wind quickly stripped the warmth from the liquid, leaving the cooled blood clinging to his skin. Yet the killing blade in his grip was still gleaming bright, not a speck of blood to be seen upon it.
The upright edge of the blade was like a mirror. In its reflection Haku could clearly see his own appearance: long black hair tied into a single ponytail reaching his waist, his body clad in a pale-blue patterned haori and black hakama, the eight-pointed snowflake crest of his family displayed on the front, back, and sleeves of the garment.
The image staring back at him from the blade felt so unfamiliar that he could barely recognize it as himself.
These clothes had been custom-made. Lord Orochimaru had taken him to the city known as the Daimyō’s residence, where they found tailors who worked day and night to finish them. The eight-pointed snowflake design was not merely a pattern, but, as Orochimaru explained, his family’s crest.
That had been the very first time Haku had even heard the word “family crest.”
But it was because of that trip to the daimyo’s city that they had provoked the enemies now hunting them down.
Wearing this new attire, Haku no longer looked ragged or unkempt. Even though it was clearly men’s clothing, the moment he stepped out of the shop, passersby were captivated by him. Among them happened to be the retinue of a noble traveling with a line of carriages. At the noble’s very first glimpse of Haku, he became infatuated, and immediately sent men to seize him.
The result—
That noble was cut down by Orochimaru, who hacked him into eight pieces before the eyes of the crowd. It was no figure of speech: the noble’s body was literally divided into eight parts, not one more, not one less, blood soaking the ground around him.
After that, unending pursuit followed Orochimaru and Haku.
But Orochimaru showed not the slightest fear. Instead, he used the situation to instruct Haku in swordsmanship, treating their pursuers as sharpening stones for his disciple’s blade. That was a new phrase Haku had just learned. Orochimaru had assigned him a great many lessons: sword practice was only one. There was also chakra refinement, hand seal training, and the study of culture and knowledge.
“Well done, Haku.”
A cool hand pressed against his head. Orochimaru’s smile was genuine, carrying unmistakable delight. “You did well, better than I expected.”
“Lord Orochimaru, did I… really do well?”
Haku tilted his head upward, eyes blank and uncertain.
“Of course you did, Haku. You did very well.”
Orochimaru affirmed with a laugh. “You need not feel guilty. They wanted to kill us. To be killed in return is nothing they have the right to complain about. The moment they chose to take lives, they should have been prepared to lose their own. To fall beneath your blade is an honor for them. To see such a beautiful sight in their last moments is enough for them to leave this world with a smile.”
The dead could not refute the living’s words on their behalf.
Even though the faces behind their masks had been twisted in agony, Orochimaru could still say they had passed away smiling.
“Enough, Haku. Do not waste your spirit on such worthless trash. We are leaving this country by sea. You will see a wider world. Your future is not bound beneath this narrow sky shrouded in cloud.”
Orochimaru’s mood was truly buoyant.
He had been defeated by Uchiha Shisui, lost the Sky Sword, and seen Kimimaro fall into Konoha’s hands. Remembering those bitter moments was unpleasant. Yet whenever he saw Haku diligently studying or practicing the swordsmanship he had taught, his spirits lifted.
His luck was excellent.
After losing Kimimaro, he had found Haku.
With Kimimaro, he had specifically sought out the boy for the Shikotsumyaku, a bloodline limit that had drawn him from the beginning. But Ice Release, a bloodline limit thought long extinct, was something even Orochimaru could not have deliberately hunted down.
And yet, by chance, that vanished power had fallen into his hands.
What was more, compared to Kimimaro, Orochimaru favored Haku even more.
Kimimaro was a typical genius among shinobi, born with an innate gift for battle. By instinct alone he grew stronger without effort. Haku, however, was a different kind of genius, gifted not only in ninjutsu and kenjutsu, but also with a brilliant aptitude for learning and understanding knowledge beyond combat.
By comparison, Kimimaro had been far weaker in this regard. Orochimaru had once tried to teach him culture and knowledge. Though Kimimaro studied diligently and worked hard, it was obvious his talent in those areas did not shine nearly as brightly as his talent for combat. He could only manage to absorb what Orochimaru taught, unable to apply it flexibly.
But Haku—
Haku could take what he learned and extend it further. Sometimes the questions he asked in his studies even made Orochimaru pause and think. They had spent scarcely more than half a month together, yet Orochimaru had already cast Kimimaro completely from his mind. He even felt reluctant to treat Haku as nothing more than a vessel for his future reincarnation.
In this shinobi world, a wasteland for science, Orochimaru was alone.
He was so many steps beyond this era that in the eyes of others he was nothing but a madman, a lunatic who had strayed into forbidden paths.
There was no one who could share with him the joy of new discoveries, no one who could understand the true purpose of his research, no one who could inherit the knowledge and creations he had uncovered.
Yes, his loneliness was not only that there were no companions to walk alongside him, but also that when he paused and looked back, he realized that not a single follower remained behind him. In that instant, he felt a vast, despairing solitude.
If he were to die, then everything he had discovered and created—would it not all die together with him?
That had been an age when war raged without end. He had personally witnessed the deaths of countless acquaintances, seen the grief of the living, and then watched as grief was swallowed by forgetfulness.
Forgetfulness—what a terrifying word that was. Orochimaru’s fear of being forgotten even surpassed his fear of death itself.
And so, he conceived the wish for immortality.
If he could live forever, then there would be no need to fear death, nor would there be any fear of being forgotten.
Yet, even after setting foot upon the path of immortality, Orochimaru remained alone, wandering a barren world in solitude, until he met Haku. The old saying that “the character of a child is revealed at three years old” was perhaps exaggerated, but in the qualities revealed by eight-year-old Haku, Orochimaru glimpsed the light of a companion who might one day walk the same path.
The child might never surpass him, but at the very least, he should be able to keep pace with him.
Thus Orochimaru truly felt reluctant to raise Haku as a vessel for his reincarnation. Although he had not yet reached a final decision, his instincts were already showing in how he structured Haku’s lessons: reducing the time spent on ninjutsu and kenjutsu, while extending the hours devoted to academic study and cultural knowledge.
Perhaps, given more time, he would reach a final decision.
For now, Orochimaru patiently taught Haku how to clear the battlefield, how to erase the traces that might remain, and supervised as Haku practiced personally, disposing of the bodies of the pursuers. Once that was complete, they set out again, passing through the last stretch of forest until they arrived at the harbor.
There, ships waited to sail to foreign lands.
Orochimaru used genjutsu to smuggle himself and Haku aboard a passenger ship bound for the Land of Hot Water.
Inside the cabin, Haku spoke after finishing the assignment Orochimaru had given him. According to the study plan Orochimaru had devised, he was allowed twenty minutes of rest before beginning the next lesson. During that time, he was free to act as he wished, so long as it did not interfere with his studies. Asking questions was one such choice.
“Lord Orochimaru, why are we going to the Land of Hot Water?”
“To scavenge,” Orochimaru replied with a smile, lifting his head from the scroll he had been studying. “According to the latest intelligence I’ve gathered, it won’t be long before war breaks out there. A battlefield is an excellent place to scavenge. With some luck, we may come across very fine things indeed.” He was thinking, for example, of the intact corpse of a Uchiha with both eyes still in place.
He had many spies in Konoha. At the slightest disturbance, Orochimaru received reports immediately, and the news of the Cloud shinobi moving south was no exception. He knew well enough that Konoha and Kumogakure would soon clash, and the battlefield—most likely—would be in the Land of Hot Water.
Looking back over the three great ninja wars, the flames of battle had almost always consumed the territories of the smaller nations, rarely the lands of the Five Great Nations themselves.
That was why Orochimaru chose a ship sailing for the Land of Hot Water, rather than returning directly to the Land of Fire.
“War?”
Haku had read descriptions of war in books, but he had never seen it with his own eyes. His gentle nature gave him no fondness for an event in which many lives would be lost. If not for Lord Orochimaru’s sake, he would have no desire to kill at all.
“Are we… going to fight as well?” Haku asked softly.
“Unlikely. I already told you, we are going to scavenge. But scavenging on a battlefield is a dangerous task. If things go wrong, both sides might join together to hunt us down. Combat should be avoided if possible, but there is no guarantee it can be avoided entirely.”
Orochimaru’s hoarse voice echoed in the cabin.
Haku’s heart grew heavy, and he asked no more questions. Lowering his head, he picked up his brush again and continued on to the next assignment that Lord Orochimaru had given him.
