Kakashi lunged, his arm cloaked in crackling blue lightning — Chidori, screeching like a thousand birds tearing through the night.
Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed, a twisted smirk forming on his pallid lips.
"Still charging head-on, Kakashi-kun... how foolish."
His fingers snapped into motion, a blur of intricate seals.
"Fūton: Ja no Taifū Shō!" (Wind Style: Serpent Typhoon Palm)
The air distorted. A translucent vortex exploded outward from Orochimaru, a coiling dome of razor-sharp wind, patterned like serpent scales, shimmering eerily in the moonlight.
CRACK!
Chidori slammed into the barrier
Sparks flew. Wind howled.
And then… nothing.
The jutsu halted Kakashi's charge dead in its tracks, bleeding his lightning into harmless trails of flickering light, scattered by the serpentine currents.
Kakashi landed lightly, retreating half a step, eyes narrowing.
"Tch... it's not just deflecting. It's cancelling my momentum…"
Orochimaru's voice slithered from within the fading wind.
"A little trick I developed after watching the Raikage's style. Crude for now… but sufficient for you."
The wind dome shimmered once more before dissolving into tendrils of mist that danced back into the shadows of the trees.
Kakashi breathed heavily, shoulders rising and falling with quiet restraint. His gaze remained fixed on Orochimaru, wary, but curious.
Orochimaru stepped out from the last wisps of wind, his expression unreadable, but his eyes gleaming.
"I must admit, Kakashi-kun… that was well done."
Orochimaru's pale fingers tapped against his sleeve as he watched the boy catch his breath.
"To craft a jutsu like Chidori on your own... few your age could manage such a feat."
His praise was genuine, but it came with that familiar, unsettling curl of his lips.
"Still… relying solely on Raiton won't carry you far. You're far too unbalanced."
From within his sleeve, Orochimaru pulled out a worn scroll tied in black twine. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it lightly toward Kakashi.
"Doton... it's your secondary affinity, isn't it? As it stands, it's barely passable. Use this. It should help you grasp the basics again, properly this time."
Kakashi caught the scroll with one hand, his expression unreadable behind the mask. But the grip of his fingers said enough.
He gave a faint nod.
"You can go now" Orochimaru turned his back, already walking toward the doorway of his hidden hut.
Kakashi lingered a moment, eyes lingering on the figure ahead.
"I will find the truth. No matter what it takes."
With a flicker of chakra, he vanished.
Orochimaru paused only briefly in his stride. Then came the softest murmur, almost swallowed by the forest wind—
"You will…"
---
Come back again, Master Asuma.
The shopkeeper didn't hesitate to invite him, a wide grin plastered on his face. It wasn't anything new. Asuma knew the gesture was less about him and more about who his father was. He didn't blame the man. Most people in Konoha were like that.
He was used to it.
From a young age, no matter where he went in the village, people would smile, nod, offer him little praises like candy. "That's the Hokage's son" "Such a well-mannered boy" "A real Sarutobi"
At first, it felt fun, like floating on a cloud made of compliments. But the older he got, the more he realised how hollow some of it sounded.
It's not that he hated being praised. Not really. He just hated the idea of being praised as the Hokage's son.
He wanted it to be his name they remembered.
Asuma Sarutobi.
Not the shadow he was born under.
He thought the war would be his chance.
A chance to prove to everyone, especially Kurenai, that he wasn't just some pampered clan kid skating by on his surname. That he was a qualified shinobi in his own right. Capable. Reliable. Worth something beyond the Sarutobi bloodline.
But most of the time, his father made sure he was kept off the frontlines.
"Too valuable" they'd say. "Your safety matters"
And Asuma knew exactly what that meant, Hiruzen pulling strings behind the curtain. Shielding him, again.
Of course, war doesn't always follow the rules. Things get messy. Units get split. Orders break down. And in those scattered moments, when he actually got a taste of the real thing, Asuma showed he wasn't behind anyone.
Well… anyone except that guy, Kakashi.
His old classmate. The "genius." The comparison no one ever said out loud, but everyone silently made.
He didn't mind. Much.
What really bothered him wasn't being second to Kakashi. It was being treated like he didn't belong on the battlefield at all.
He understood his father loved him.
He understood it wasn't personal.
But watching his friends bleed for the village while he stood behind the lines, still being protected...
That didn't sit right.
"At least now I can participate in missions..."
Asuma muttered to himself, exhaling a trail of smoke as the cigarette burned slowly between his fingers.
With so many shinobi lost during the last battles, the Sarutobi elder had no choice but to start handing out more responsibilities, even to his own son.
He didn't like why it was happening, but at least it gave him purpose. Action. Finally.
And then he heard it.
"Finally, the coward left the Hokage position. Isn't it good?"
That sentence. That damn sentence. It hit him like a kunai to the chest.
His eyes narrowed, the smoke curling a little more aggressively from his lips.
He didn't always agree with his father. Hated how he'd been treated like porcelain. Resented it, even.
But this?
This was his village. And that was his old man.
You didn't get to insult Hiruzen Sarutobi in Konoha of all places.
His blood boiled.
He flicked the cigarette to the ground, grinding it beneath his sandal.
If they wanted to test the Will of Fire...
Asuma would gladly remind them it still burned.
**********
Anime Power Suitable In Naruto Verse