Around a week since he first started training alongside Tsunade, Ryusei had settled into a routine.

He followed her across various wounded hideouts, now even stepping into another division entirely.

But whenever she was fully absorbed in her patients, he slipped away to his usual secluded spot to train.

It was only during his free time that he helped her with those matters or received her teachings at the end of the day.

This time, his breathing felt different.

Lighter on the lungs, cleaner somehow.

The clone that had been active all week had finally dispelled, flooding him with its memories.

It had shown him everything.

How it brought his uncle and especially the other five under complete control without even a flicker of hesitation.

How it demonstrated talent and power at such a young age that it overshadowed all of them, leaving no room for doubt.

It had then taken the information and networks they already had in place and used them, in the best possible way, to tighten a leash around that royal family, practically allowing the whole operation to succeed with its ability.

Ryusei smirked at the thought.

The modified fuinjutsu seals he had crafted for this exact purpose were also already being put to work, making control easier, smoother, unshakable.

Now, back in his own body, he trained with a face more relaxed than usual, sweat dripping, but his mind oddly calm.

For the first time, his training wasn’t just to survive.

It was to get on top. To truly enjoy the climb.

He had already made further arrangements for his uncle and the other five.

He taught them how to use the black market to quietly recruit additional support precisely.

With entire that threat in place, he didn’t believe the village would dare move recklessly against him now.

Not while the court’s stability itself was tied in his hands.

He understood more clearly than ever how vital the Daimyo’s inner circle was, and how fragile the balance could become.

Then, suddenly, his senses prickled.

A faint chakra signature, small but distinct, slithered along the ground from the side of the hot spring.

A snake, its body carrying slightly more chakra than a normal serpent of that size should. His gaze sharpened.

The snake carried a bulge in its gut, and as it reached him, it uncoiled and disgorged a tightly bound scroll.

Ryusei crouched, picked it up, and let a slow smirk stretch across his lips.

He didn’t need to open it to understand.

Orochimaru had finally lost patience.

The sannin was reaching out.

Ryusei unrolled the slimy, a bit disgusting scroll, and let his eyes pass over the neat, deliberate strokes of writing.

Orochimaru had written plainly. No riddles, no games, at least, not on the surface.

He introduced himself directly, acknowledging his curiosity about Ryusei.

About his recent moves, his talent, and the rumors he had stirred.

He wished to meet, to ask questions.

And in return, he promised some answers of his own.

If trust was an issue, he even went so far as to recommend sending only a shadow clone to the meeting.

The time was set and the location was marked out like a miniature map, sketched in careful detail.

A quiet place, tucked between Orochimaru’s central den at the backlines and this division. Not far.

Ryusei’s lips curved as he studied the map.

At that distance, Tsunade wouldn’t sense a thing.

And if he used a very suppressed shadow clone, while Orochimaru also made corresponding arrangements, then no one would notice.

He weighed it against his own experience.

He had already sent clones to contact his uncle in that border town, right inside the Land of Fire.

That had worked precisely because the rear of the frontlines wasn’t smothered with sensory pressure.

Few sensors lingered back there.

But if he, for example, wanted to send one directly to Kanae or Renjiro in another division, it would mean pushing through hundreds of overlapping sensory nets, every step flagged and watched. Not worth the hassle.

This, though… this was different.

The location was quiet, deliberately chosen. Safe, at least by Orochimaru’s standards.

Ryusei tapped the scroll against his palm, eyes narrowing slightly as his smirk lingered.

Ryusei obviously understood why Orochimaru’s words were coated in ‘politeness’. It wasn’t respect, or how Orochimaru usually does things. It was a necessity.

The sannin had no leverage anymore, despite the gap in raw strength and status.

Because even the village higher-ups themselves, for now, would look to protect him from someone like Orochimaru.

And in terms of strength, Ryusei didn’t believe the sannin stood much above Tsunade, his biggest shield at the moment.

A shield that was hardening quickly, as her will returned and she climbed back to the peak of her abilities, fueled by the spark of their growing bond over the past week.

“If not for those two things,” Ryusei thought dryly, “this scroll would’ve come with a snake that swallowed me whole, not an invitation written with polite and reasonable kind of ink.”

Ryusei had once thought he would need to exaggerate his closeness with Tsunade to fake a bond just strong enough to shield him when dealing with Orochimaru like that.

That way, he could approach from a bit more balanced position. However, reality had moved faster than his plans. The bond was growing on its own, quicker than even he expected. And Orochimaru would have noticed. With eyes and ears spread everywhere, he surely saw it too.

The agreed time was set for later that same day.

Ryusei didn’t rush anymore.

He paced himself, letting his body and chakra reserves recover fully, every breath measured, every movement deliberate.

If Orochimaru was planning anything more than words, to test him, he would be ready.

When the hour came, he formed the clone.

Not just any clone, but one of his carefully tuned constructs, he used regularly nowadays, one of his ‘stealth clones’.

He wove sensory particles into its chakra, programmed suppression protocols, and layered a lattice of fuinjutsu seals and logic-shiki onto it.

Everything down to its breathing pattern was designed to erase its presence.

It stood before him, its eyes already sharpened with the preloaded instructions.

Ryusei gave it a single nod.

The clone vanished into the treeline, its chakra so thin it blended seamlessly with the background.

Now all that was left was to wait.

The clone moved quickly but without urgency.

By the time it reached the marked location..

The meeting point was a ruined shrine half-swallowed by the forest.

Moss clung to the stones, the roof half-collapsed, and a stagnant pool reflected the last light of the day.

The air carried a damp chill, as if the place itself had been abandoned by time.

The clone settled at the edge of the clearing, senses flaring in a wide arc. At first, silence.

Only the wind slipping through the trees.

Then, a rustle.

The snake came first.

Thick-bodied, pale scales sliding across the broken stones.

It slithered into the pool, disturbing the reflection, and from the rippling water, a figure rose.

Orochimaru, wearing standard Konoha’s green war uniform, but with a commander insignia, stepped forward as if peeling out of the snake’s own skin, pale hands brushing along his sleeves.

His golden eyes glinted in the dim light, and a thin smile tugged at his lips.

“You really did come,” Orochimaru said softly, voice carrying that strange blend of amusement and menace.

“Though… in this form. How careful of you.”

The clone held its ground, silent, watching him.

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