The meeting concluded, and Orochimaru left the Hokage's office with Hizashi and his son quietly following behind.
Night had fallen by then. The sky was clear, the stars glimmered faintly above, and the moonlight poured down, washing over the quiet village and masking its lively lights in a silver sheen.
After turning into a shadowy alley, Orochimaru suddenly stopped and looked back at Hizashi. His expression held a half-smile, half-sneer.
"Something tells me this turn of events caught you off guard," he said, voice smooth and quiet. "You seem... discontent with my decision."
Hizashi was taken aback, then quickly shook his head. "That's not true. I know very well, Orochimaru—you saved me. If not for your intervention—"
"But," Orochimaru cut him off, his gaze sharp, "you would've preferred to sacrifice yourself, wouldn't you?"
Hizashi hesitated. Under that piercing stare, he felt as though all his thoughts had been laid bare. After a long pause, he nodded slightly. "Yes."
"Foolish."
Orochimaru's response was flat, brutal.
"You're short-sighted. You're caught up in temporary guilt and pride. Do you even understand the consequences?"
His tone remained casual, but there was a bite to every word.
"It's clear Neji respects you deeply—not just as a father, but as a role model. I'd wager he's even said he wants to grow up to be like you one day. Now imagine what would happen if the person he looks up to most simply dies—because of the clan's mistakes."
Hizashi stood frozen, unconsciously tightening his grip on Neji's small hand.
"Young minds see the world in black and white. Right or wrong. Strong or weak. And Neji, even as a child, has the willpower to resent weakness... especially if it reeks of submission."
Orochimaru glanced down at the unconscious boy.
"He'll deny the clan, of course."
Hizashi's breath hitched. Orochimaru's words struck a chord, echoing his own fears.
"But denial is not a simple path," Orochimaru continued softly. "His mother will try to guide him back. His fellow branch members will pressure him. The main family will crush his resistance. Even the village itself won't support his defiance."
"And why?" Orochimaru's voice sharpened. "Because it would mean rejecting his father's choice. To deny the clan, Neji must first deny you."
The words hit like a thunderclap.
Hizashi's fists clenched, his body trembling.
"Of course," Orochimaru mused, "there's another possibility. Perhaps Neji's mother foresaw all this and pleaded with your brother to keep the truth hidden. Perhaps they want Neji to believe you were sacrificed by the clan's decision alone."
He chuckled coldly. "In that case, even if he has to fight the whole world, at least he won't have to fight the memory of his father."
Hizashi's face went pale. He knew Orochimaru was right. Given his wife's quiet strength, and Hiashi's deep guilt, this was a very real possibility.
Such a future...
"Still," Orochimaru added with a faint smile, "there's one more possibility. It's unlikely—but what if Neji admires you even more than you realize?"
"What if he embraces your sacrifice, accepts the cursed fate of the branch family, and walks the same path? What if one day, like you, he dies—quietly, obediently—for the sake of the clan?"
Orochimaru's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Is that the future you want, Hizashi?"
The words were soft, but they rang in Hizashi's ears like a thunderous bell.
His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground. It felt as if all the strength had been stripped from his body.
His face twisted in pain, mirroring the expression his brother had worn not long ago. It looked like the end of the world.
He wasn't afraid of what might happen to him. Over the years, he had already come to terms with everything that needed acceptance.
But what terrified Hizashi wasn't his own fate—it was the thought of Neji having to live through the same thing.
For him, that would be a punishment crueler than hell itself.
Thankfully, that future would never come to pass. Hizashi took a deep breath. After a moment, his nerves settled, and he reminded himself—those were only Orochimaru's speculations. Nothing more. A future that no longer had the chance to unfold.
He stood up abruptly, brushing himself off, and lowered his head with a hint of embarrassment.
"Lord Orochimaru… forgive my moment of weakness."
It was hard to blame him. The way Orochimaru had described everything just now—it was as if he had actually seen that future, frame by frame, and replayed it vividly before Hizashi's eyes.
Even now, when he thought about it, a chill ran down his spine. It felt too real. Too possible.
"Heh. Thirty-five million ryo," Orochimaru chuckled as he turned away and stepped into the shadows. His voice echoed faintly in the alley, "Now you know it wasn't a bad deal."
"I've fulfilled your wish, just as promised."
Hizashi felt his eyes sting with heat. He bowed deeply toward the direction Orochimaru had disappeared into.
---
High above, on a tree branch under the silver moonlight, Orochimaru stared up at the sky.
"The wish has been fulfilled," he said calmly. "How's the collection of wish-power going?"
"It's going well. I've patched up the shortfall from earlier, and there's still some surplus," replied the Lamp God, rubbing his chin with a satisfied look. "Tsk tsk... I didn't think you'd pull it off this well. You're as sly as ever, but making Hizashi genuinely approve of your actions from the bottom of his heart—that's no easy feat."
"It wasn't me," Orochimaru said, shaking his head. "The vision of Neji's future was your idea. Your logic was clear and persuasive."
"Heh, that's true," the Lamp God said with a grin. "But thanks to the excess wish-power left behind, we might finally be able to revisit that Zanpakutō plan you previously rejected."
Orochimaru's expression shifted slightly. "Is there any risk?"
After enduring so much to heal the injuries to his soul, he wasn't keen on splitting it again just for an extra ability.
"Relax," the Lamp God reassured him. "My old crude method of soul replication was sloppy, yes—but fulfilling wishes? That's my true purpose. That's what I do. I'm a proper, qualified Lamp God."
Orochimaru gave him a sideways glance, saying nothing. But a soul-type ability was still extremely tempting.
After a pause, he asked, "I'm not skilled in swordplay or close combat. Could it be something other than a Zanpakutō?"
"You misunderstand," the Lamp God said with a smile. "The 'sword' in Zanpakutō is just a label. Its form is determined by the soul of the user."
"For example, my last host, Omae Kami—his Zanpakutō manifested as a massive spiked meteor hammer."
"There are many others. Suì-Fēng's appeared as a long whip. Komamura's took the form of armor. There's no fixed shape."
"A sword is just tradition. No need to worry—it'll suit you."
Orochimaru thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."
He couldn't help but feel that Hizashi died with a sense of peace—not just in life, but even after reincarnation.
____________________
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