Grief expresses itself in many forms and is purged in just as many ways. Some people collapse into agony immediately, finding relief through an instant explosion of emotion.
Others wrap their sorrow in a hardened shell, allowing it to gestate and brew in silence. It sits there, dormant, until a seemingly insignificant moment—a minor setback or a stray word—causes the shell to crack, and the floodgates finally burst open.
Kushina clearly belonged to the latter group. The tragedy of the Land of Whirlpools had happened some time ago; even the news reaching the common folk of Konoha was already a week old.
As the last scion of the Uzumaki clan, an invisible weight had pressed down on Kushina's shoulders from the moment the tragedy struck. Perhaps no one had explicitly demanded she avenge her people, but she couldn't help but carry that burden herself.
She set goal after goal, marching down a path she deemed righteous. Until she reached her destination, she had no intention of venting the dark drive that her hatred provided.
But her very first step—graduating from the Ninja Academy—had been unceremoniously blocked by Tatsuma and Minato. This initial failure left Kushina reeling, unsure of how to move forward. In that moment of total displacement, she regressed; she became like an infant, allowing raw emotion to dictate her every move. She did the only thing she could do: she wailed.
Any attempt to stop her or offer empty platitudes would have been like trying to patch a shattered dam with scotch tape. It was better to simply let the flood pass.
Eventually, the long bouts of sobbing combined with the exhaustion of two high-intensity matches took their toll. Kushina drifted into a fitful sleep. Goppu Sarutobi looked down at the girl—still hiccuping in her sleep—and gently hoisted her into his arms. He turned to Orochimaru.
"Lord Orochimaru, I'll take Kushina home first. As for the rest..."
"It's fine. I have plenty of time today," Orochimaru said, waving a hand dismissively. His team had been recalled to the village on emergency orders. Tsunade had vanished into her family estate the moment they arrived, and Jiraiya had been summoned by Hiruzen Sarutobi for a private briefing. Left with an unexpected holiday, Orochimaru didn't mind wasting a little time here.
Once Goppu had departed, Orochimaru turned his gaze back toward the two boys. "You have both performed your duty to the village admirably. Regarding the second round of testing... do you wish to proceed?"
Tatsuma remained silent, and he didn't look at Minato. Minato's earlier promise to Kushina had already made his stance clear. As for Tatsuma himself, he needed a moment to calculate.
"I will continue the assessment," Minato said, nodding firmly. It was exactly the answer Tatsuma expected.
Orochimaru looked at Tatsuma, waiting for his response.
Tatsuma deliberated for a long while before looking up. "Lord Orochimaru, may I ask a question?"
"Of course, Tatsuma-kun." Orochimaru's expression returned to its usual mask of elegant, thin-lipped amusement. He was curious to see what kind of question could sway Tatsuma's decision to graduate.
Tatsuma took a deep breath. "Lord Orochimaru, I want to know why you are proctoring us today. Is it because you've taken a personal interest in us?"
Orochimaru understood the subtext immediately. This little brat... he's worried about post-graduation resources. Not material resources, of course, but the invisible kind: lineage, mentorship, and team placement.
Orochimaru let out a soft, dry chuckle and shook his head. "Quite the opposite. It is precisely because the village has no intention of placing you under my command that I am able to serve as your proctor. It avoids any conflict of interest."
Tatsuma opened his mouth to follow up, but Orochimaru cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I know what you're going to ask. Don't worry, the village won't disappoint you. I can tell you this much: if you pass, your Jonin instructor will very likely be one of my teammates."
Orochimaru didn't mind sharing this "secret." He knew that a hunter only catches prey by putting enough delicious bait in the trap.
To him, letting these two know how high the stakes were would act as the ultimate stimulant. It would push them to unleash every ounce of their potential in the next round. Given the talent they had already displayed, becoming Genin was a foregone conclusion, but Orochimaru didn't want a boring conclusion. He wanted to stir the pot.
Upon hearing the hint about their potential sensei, Tatsuma and Minato exchanged a quick, energized glance. The motivation in their eyes flared. Tatsuma nodded.
"Lord Orochimaru, I will also continue the assessment."
"Then take a moment to rest. Once your teacher returns, the real test begins. Let me warn you... it won't be some schoolyard game."
As he spoke, Orochimaru's smile vanished. Suddenly, a cold, violent, and bloodthirsty aura erupted from his body. His golden eyes seemed to lose focus, yet simultaneously felt as if they were boring holes through the two boys.
Gulp.
Tatsuma and Minato both swallowed hard. Tatsuma, in particular, had never really believed in "Killing Intent" as a tangible force. Back in his previous life, when movie critics talked about an actor having "murder in their eyes," he'd always thought it was hyperbole.
But now, staring into Orochimaru's gaze, he felt as if a psychopathic killer was leaning over his shoulder, a butcher's knife already cold against his throat.
"And," Orochimaru added, his aura suddenly snapping back into a sharp, manic grin that reminded Tatsuma of a deranged bomber—quietly dangerous and utterly terrifying. "I should make one thing clear. If you fail to pass my assessment, I may use my authority to write a report that paints you as utterly worthless. You'll be sent back to the Academy... but you'll return as 'trash' in the eyes of every Jonin in this village. With your intelligence, you should understand what I'm implying, shouldn't you?"
Tatsuma narrowed his eyes. He didn't need to guess; Orochimaru was telling them plainly that if they missed this boat, they would never get a high-quality mentor again.
Tatsuma looked at the Sannin, his mind racing. He suspected Orochimaru was bluffing—much like how Morino Ibiki would later bluff the Genin during the Chunin Exams. But Orochimaru was an enigma; he was exactly the kind of madman who might actually follow through on such a petty threat.
While Minato was still processing the weight of the threat, Tatsuma found his voice first. "I understand, Lord Orochimaru. Your assessment may be difficult, but I don't believe you would intentionally sabotage our paths without reason. As long as we display qualities that impress you, you wouldn't have any grounds to fail us."
"Hmph. Quite confident. You're welcome to try."
Orochimaru's grin remained fixed. Seeing that Minato had also steeled his nerves, he nodded in satisfaction. "If I were you, I'd focus on recovering your strength as quickly as possible."
"Understood."
Tatsuma and Minato shared a final look before sitting down. Their hands moved into seals as they began the rhythmic process of refining and recovering their chakra.