Chapter Five: The Tears of Konoha

… The Sound Village ninjas, escorting a grand procession of Konoha prisoners, returned to their village. This time, the “Collapse Konoha Action” openly revealed the figure behind Sound Village—Orochimaru.

A rogue ninja had founded an entire village. If he hadn’t come out publicly, for various reasons, people might have ignored him even if they knew. But now, it was as if the entire ninja world had been notified. This was a challenge to the authority of the ninja world; the four remaining major villages, along with the allied minor villages, would inevitably rise to punish the Sound Village.

Yet to Orochimaru, these were minor concerns.

The clanking of chains echoed—metal shackles bound the prisoners’ feet, ringing with every step, audible from afar.

Kabuto watched the procession, hesitating. “Orochimaru-sama, aren’t we being a bit too ostentatious?”

Orochimaru’s expression was cold, his long hair draped over his shoulders, the pale golden slits of his pupils radiating menace.

“Ostentatious?”

Orochimaru licked his lips. He wanted to be ostentatious. With Konoha destroyed, barring any surprises, they would soon face three enemies: Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Itachi Uchiha. The lesser threats could wait; these three required caution.

Orochimaru said, “Kabuto, this time we didn’t just strike and retreat—we truly collapsed Konoha. Look at all these prisoners; how could we not be ostentatious?”

Kabuto glanced at the endless line, thinking to himself that it was true. This action had devastated Konoha; aside from those killed, they had captured tens of thousands. No matter how they marched, the commotion was immense.

Kabuto asked, “But what do we want with all these prisoners?” Sound Village was small, built on a path of elite ninjas; this many people were a burden!

Orochimaru smiled faintly, his eyes deep. Konoha was a village of miracles and bloodlines; these people were perfect experimental subjects.

There was another reason—to toy with human hearts.

Humans are fragile creatures. Their action had wiped out Konoha, slain nearly half its population, and destroyed even the Hokage Rock—a vengeance of annihilation.

Any ninja lucky enough to have been away on a mission would surely hate him now. They would seek revenge, and at that moment, he would send the prisoners’ relatives to confront those avenging ninjas.

The thought alone was thrilling.

These were experiments in human nature.

Orochimaru didn’t explain any of this to Kabuto; instead, he said, “You’ve already deduced the enemies we’ll soon face, haven’t you? Perhaps four—Itachi Uchiha may have Kisame with him. Prepare well.”

Orochimaru had once joined the Akatsuki, but due to differences with Itachi and the organization’s goals, he defected. Kabuto knew all this.

Kabuto pushed up his glasses, a flash glinting across the lenses. “I know: Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Itachi Uchiha. Maybe also Kisame. If they come, none will leave unscathed.”

Orochimaru cackled maniacally, then gradually subdued his laughter. “You’ve understood why I kept the Third Hokage alive.”

Kabuto smiled as well.

Who did Jiraiya care about most? Such a bright, diligent man—he cared for his village, his teacher, and his disciple’s son, Naruto. When Jiraiya arrived, Kabuto could threaten him with the Third Hokage and Naruto’s lives. How would Jiraiya respond?

The same could be said for Tsunade, but she also had a fatal flaw: hemophobia. With a bit of ruthlessness, killing Tsunade would be all too easy.

Then there was Itachi Uchiha. Kabuto didn’t know that Itachi had betrayed Konoha to protect it, but he was aware of Sasuke Uchiha’s situation.

Orochimaru never acted without confidence; if he made arrangements, they would be precise. From this, it could be inferred that Itachi cared deeply for Sasuke.

It was all so simple.

Orochimaru said, “These methods may keep them at bay, but I still don’t want any accidents. Those people are capable of miracles. Go fetch a member of the Hyuga clan.”

Of the enemies he was about to face, only one technique threatened him: genjutsu.

Having undergone countless reincarnations, and with “curse marks” scattered across his mind, his spirit was fragile. Genjutsu was his weakness.

Ordinary genjutsu was useless against him; only the Sharingan’s illusions posed a threat.

Byakugan couldn’t directly counter genjutsu, but it could observe chakra flow and anticipate attacks, giving him a measure of defense.

That would suffice.

Orochimaru also recalled that there was a Hyuga on the moon, possessing evolved Byakugan eyes—not inferior to the Sharingan.

His eyes burned with fanaticism; he wanted to uncover the principles behind those eyes—not just swap them, but understand the truth, the cause behind it all.

Who could say, perhaps in the future, every subordinate might wield a Byakugan.

Kabuto soon returned, dragging with him a young girl.

Orochimaru looked at her, a playful smile curling his lips—it was Hinata, the purest bloodline of the Byakugan.

…

Jiraiya raced back to Konoha like a madman, his expression more sorrowful and defeated than ever before.

“How could he!? How dare he!?”

He saw the face of his friend Orochimaru, then the visage of his teacher, Hiruzen Sarutobi.

He could not imagine the scene of these two killing each other.

“Sigh.”

And Konoha—he didn’t know what had become of the village. Since receiving the emergency news, there had been no further word.

He hadn’t investigated, partly to save time, partly out of fear of learning the worst.

Tsunade was doing the same. She hadn’t checked, but hurried from the casino, leaving Shizune and her pig behind.

The two spent days on the road, finally arriving at the village.

“This…”

Konoha now was ruins and shattered walls, billowing black smoke, flames everywhere, corpses everywhere.

Just like the war days, life was worthless.

Jiraiya’s face darkened, rarely devoid of humor; tears streamed down his cheeks.

He walked slowly, arriving beneath Hokage Rock, and looked up. The monument had been smashed, leaving only half of the First Hokage’s face.

He could hold back no longer—a man, sobbing uncontrollably.

Tsunade had just entered the village. The sight of fire and blood drained her face of color; she fainted instantly.

But almost as quickly, she awoke.

Her hemophobia was cured, at the cost of Konoha’s destruction.

She wandered dazed into the village, arriving at Hokage Rock to see Jiraiya crying, and the half-face of the First Hokage.

Though a tough woman, she did not mock him; instead, she showed her feminine weakness.

“Ahhhhhh, woooooo, ahhhhhh, woooooo!!”

Her cries shook the sky, wailing bitterly.

The two didn’t know how many times they fainted and awoke from crying. When they next came to, two others stood nearby.

Itachi Uchiha and Kisame.

Jiraiya and Tsunade were numb, as if the two intruders didn’t exist; at that moment, even an ordinary person could have killed them.

Itachi looked at them. “Have you cried enough? If so, come with me.

Konoha wasn’t wiped out completely; many were taken captive.

Let’s go together, and kill Orochimaru!”

His tone was calm, with no tears shed. In his heart, he mocked himself—perhaps he had gone through this once before, and had already run out of tears.

Itachi thought of his parents and clan, all killed by his own hand.

In the end, their deaths had not ensured Konoha’s lasting peace.

And it was all because of Orochimaru.

Jiraiya and Tsunade, hearing this, gradually regained their vigor. Though they didn’t understand Itachi’s story, it was clear they were now fighting on the same side.

They wiped away their tears. “Yes, our villagers remain. Let’s go! Together, we will kill Orochimaru!”