Around the same time, beneath the surface, in the dim stone chambers of Otogakure's main hideout, now officially recognized as the Hidden Village of the Land of Sound, Orochimaru sat at a long wooden table, a thin letter opened between his fingers.
Candle flames flickered against the walls, throwing long shadows across the room.
A slow, serpentine smirk stretched across Orochimaru's face as he reread the letter.
"So," he murmured, amusement curling in his voice. "Konoha has not only acknowledged Otogakure at last… but even allowed us into their Chūnin Exams. How very generous."
He chuckled softly. "It's like inviting a wolf inside and complimenting its fur."
Kabuto stood beside him, adjusting his glasses with that familiar, polite ambiguity he wore like a second skin.
He leaned in slightly, the candlelight flashing off his lenses.
"It appears the incentives we offered the noble families. and the Fire Daimyo, were… effective," Kabuto said, tone mild, though the amusement beneath it was unmistakable.
"Enough that they convinced the Hokage's advisors to overlook a few details."
Orochimaru let out a soft, breathy laugh, the kind that always sounded like he was savoring something poisonous.
"Kukuku… politicians are wonderfully predictable," he replied, folding the letter with delicate precision. "A handful of favors, a few carefully placed promises… and suddenly an outlaw becomes a respected leader."
Kabuto smiled faintly, pushing his glasses up again.
"Everything is proceeding smoothly, Orochimaru-sama."
Orochimaru inclined his head in agreement, golden eyes narrowing with satisfaction.
"Yes. Very smoothly indeed."
The candles crackled softly, their shadows stretching across the walls like coiled serpents preparing to strike.
"Otogakure" was always simply a web of underground bases Orochimaru used to conduct research while slipping through the cracks of Konoha's surveillance… and now Akatsuki's as well, ever since he defected from them a few years ago.
Although even that was uncertain.
Because sometimes Orochimaru wondered if even Akatsuki was meaningfully hunting him anymore, or if he barely registered as a concern presently.
Not to mention, he hadn't actually wronged Akatsuki in any serious way.
He simply left after failing to take Itachi's body.
No betrayal, no sabotage, just a scrambled retreat.
After he failed to obtain anything he wanted from there, with nothing but unanswered questions, especially about that sage-like leader with the Rinnegan, whose ambitions were probably far too grand to waste a single thought on someone like Orochimaru himself.
And he was already looking forward to whatever chaos those ambitions would spill into the world in the years ahead.
Chaos always suited him, after all.
Especially now that he had grown so much more powerful.
In fact, he might still have time to revisit those old questions and the goals he once attached to that enigmatic figure.
'Itachi…'
But then another name flickered through his mind like a lingering venom again.
The boy who had defeated him effortlessly and forced him to flee.
Yet had not killed or even pursued him at that time, even though he could.
That detail mattered.
It reinforced Orochimaru's suspicion that Itachi was never the mindless mass murderer the Konoha and the world painted him as.
No, Itachi eventually struck him as nothing more than a weapon shaped by other hands, conditioned by Konoha's senior leadership, polished under Hiruzen's pleasant-sounding but hollow ideals, and kept firmly under Danzō's control.
Those two had once been his own mentor and partner, yet he held little respect for either of them now, which only made the irony sharper.
A monstrously talented youth turned obedient hound.
Some like that obviously hadn't slaughtered his entire clan without cause.
There had to be a motive.
And who, at that time, stood to gain the most from the Uchiha's fall?
Konoha's official leadership.
It wasn't difficult for Orochimaru to piece together the real story.
Even his place in Akatsuki was probably part of that same leash.
That, Orochimaru mused, was the real reason Itachi didn't kill him.
Not mercy, not arrogance, just the simple need to preserve his role better for Konoha.
Bloodthirst had never been Itachi's nature, and pride had never been his flaw.
Orochimaru's lips curled.
He couldn't wait to return that humiliation.
To crush Itachi beneath his heel and reclaim the dignity he lost that day.
But even now, with newfound strength and stability, he had to be honest.
He still wasn't completely confident.
At best, he felt they might be evenly matched.
Yet Itachi's Mangekyo-level genjutsu still chained his instincts with a whisper of danger.
So… what was the better method?
Simple.
Take the precious younger brother.
Take Sasuke's body, also molded by talent and the Uchiha bloodline.
Use that same vessel to kill Itachi, publicly, decisively, humiliatingly.
And then pluck Itachi's Mangekyo eyes for himself, especially if Sasuke failed to awaken his own.
Yes. That was the path.
Poetic and strategic in equal measure.
Exactly the kind of future Orochimaru enjoyed walking toward.
He let the last thread of contemplation fade and slipped back into the present.
His golden eyes shifted toward Kabuto again.
"Any anomalies in Konoha?" he asked lazily. "Any new messages from Danzō?"
Kabuto pushed his glasses up with one finger. "None. Everything is proceeding as expected. Konoha is still quietly preparing for the Chūnin Exams as usual, and Danzō remains… cooperative. Just as you arranged."
Orochimaru's smile widened, thin and amused. "Good. Then our little stage play will begin without interruption."
Kabuto allowed himself a small nod.
Orochimaru rose from his seat, the candlelight flickering across his pale features. "By the way," he added with a soft, delighted lilt, "our new headbands and shinobi uniforms have been finished. Very official-looking. Very convincing."
Kabuto's eyes glinted in quiet understanding.
Orochimaru continued, savoring the moment, "It is truly almost time to walk into Konoha and tear it down from within."
Kabuto glanced toward Orochimaru as the sannin stood, the candles throwing sharp gold along the lines of his face.
He looked strong, energized, nothing like a man nearing the supposed end of a three-year vessel cycle like before.
That limitation had now clearly become irrelevant.
Kabuto pushed his glasses up with a faint, habitual motion.
His mind, however, was crowded with thoughts of his own.
He had just returned from Konoha, one last visit before the Chūnin Exams began in Konoha.
The truth was, Kabuto had never fully left Konoha when Orochimaru defected.
Thanks to a quiet agreement Orochimaru made with Danzō before his departure, Kabuto had been allowed to remain behind as Orochimaru's exclusive spy.
Danzō pulled the strings to keep him officially within the village structure from behind the scenes.
Kabuto's feelings about that arrangement were… complicated.
He despised Danzō for how he had been used, betrayed, and discarded, along with the only person he had ever truly cared for.
Yet even so, he followed Orochimaru's orders without a trace of hesitation.
Orochimaru had given him purpose.
Orochimaru was the one who pulled him out of Danzō's grasp, laid the truth bare, and showed him a path that wasn't entirely built on lies and manipulation.
Danzō arranged for Kabuto to be placed on a genin team, quietly, without raising suspicion.
Even the jōnin captain leading the team wasn't a stranger; he had once been a genin under Orochimaru himself, one of the loyal plants buried so deep that Hiruzen never uncovered anything.
Another proof of Danzō's growing influence and the loopholes he carved through the village's systems.
Kabuto then took six Chūnin Exams in a row and failed each deliberately.
In fact, participating in the exams had likely been the main reason Orochimaru wanted him to remain.
Konoha had always been the strongest hidden village, home to the highest concentration of bloodlines, potential, and prodigies.
And during the Chūnin Exams, that talent gathered all in one place.
If Kabuto wanted to survey possible vessels for Orochimaru, no opportunity was better.
He observed, cataloged, and quietly reported everything.
Later, Orochimaru could've used that information to target them while they were on missions out of the village.
He also hadn't left only Kabuto behind when he defected; several agents remained hidden, undetected, even in the Mission Desk, after all.
Even Kabuto's current jōnin captain had slipped past inspections, helped along by Danzō's usual influence and a few creative layers of deception.
But Kabuto knew something that made his stomach tighten with a strange mixture of anticipation and resignation.
This Chūnin Exam would be the last one he ever attended in Konoha.
Orochimaru already had his chosen "final" vessel.
Uchiha Sasuke.
This time, not because he urgently needed a new vessel to survive as before, but because he intended to fully evolve.
And after the exam, Konoha would also be targeted for destruction.
Kabuto's eyes shifted back to Orochimaru, who looked utterly delighted at the prospect.
Yes.
Everything was moving toward its conclusion.
And Kabuto already knew which side he stood on.
Orochimaru's gaze drifted back to Kabuto, studying the lingering tension in his expression.
A small, almost fond smile curved his lips.
"There is no longer any reason to keep someone of your brilliance trapped inside that village," Orochimaru said lightly. "You've done more than enough. From now on, you'll be joining all of my research projects directly. In fact, you'll be leading some of the new ones."
Kabuto blinked, surprised for the first time that evening.
The candlelight reflected in his glasses as he straightened, the meaning of those words settling in.
"…I would be honored, Orochimaru-sama."
A rare emotion flickered across his face, something between relief and pride.
"Thank you for entrusting me with that role."
Orochimaru nodded, the smile deepening.
He knew exactly what kind of genius Kabuto was: analytical, meticulous, and adaptable.
Not just a spy, but a natural researcher, someone who could dissect the world as easily as a cadaver.
His closest subordinate and potentially second in command.
Leaving such a talent to rot inside Konoha, pretending to fail Chūnin Exams, had been almost painful for him, too.
But it had been necessary.
Kabuto was the only one capable enough, and loyal enough to be trusted with that assignment in the first place.
Until now.
"This is the natural end of that assignment," Orochimaru said quietly. "You've served your purpose there."
Kabuto lowered his head slightly in acknowledgment, a faint breath escaping him, almost a release of years of tight, controlled tension.
Orochimaru noticed, of course.
For the first time, Kabuto was finally free to stand beside him fully, without pretending to be a mediocre genin anymore, wasting his potential inside a village that never truly saw him.
And Orochimaru also welcomed that completely.
The candle flames swayed as if in agreement.
'He really did keep his promise, in the end'…
Kabuto thought all of a sudden, the realization gradually settling deeper than he expected.
Back then, when Orochimaru first pulled him out of Root's shadow, he'd spoken lightly, almost casually, about giving Kabuto a place where his talents wouldn't rot.
Kabuto hadn't believed a word of it at the time.
Promises from adults had always meant lies, manipulation, or abandonment.
But Orochimaru had delivered.
Not instantly.
Not gently.
But in steady, deliberate increments.
Small proofs at first.
Then the larger ones.
And now, it seemed, he had delivered completely.
Kabuto found himself watching Orochimaru with something new in his eyes.
A kind of respect he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years.
Not blind dependence, not the way he once clung to Nono out of desperation, but a colder, clearer recognition.
Orochimaru had truly been the first person to look at him and see worth.
Not a disposable pawn.
Not a mask to be rewritten with new identities.
But a mind worth sharpening, a talent worth cultivating.
He never lied to Kabuto about what he expected or what he intended to use him for.
He never wrapped cruelty in pretty words as Konoha did.
He never hid the world's ugliness behind moral slogans.
And, in his own twisted way, he gave Kabuto freedom.
Not the sentimental kind, Kabuto had no use for that.
But the freedom to grow.
To learn.
To become something more than the hollow tool Root had carved out of him.
Kabuto knew perfectly well that Orochimaru was dangerous, manipulative, endlessly ambitious.
But at least Orochimaru was honest about it.
And that alone made him far easier to respect than the people who had raised him… and broken him.