A New Path

The early morning sun filtered through the dense canopy of the Forest of Death, casting dappled golden light over the two teams as they made their way through the trees. Birds chirped in the distance, the only sign that this deadly forest could hold any normalcy. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and morning dew.

Naruto, with an eager grin plastered across his face, triumphantly pulled out a large cloth bundle from his backpack, shaking off the morning drowsiness of his teammates. The sheer size of the bundle was concerning—where had he even been keeping that this whole time?

“Alright, breakfast is served!” Naruto declared, unwrapping the cloth to reveal an absurd amount of food.

Sakura blinked. “...Naruto. Where the hell did you get all this?”

Naruto stuffed a rice ball into his mouth and gave a muffled answer. “Packed it before we left.”

“Bullshit,” Shikamaru deadpanned, arms crossed as he eyed the pile with suspicion. “There’s no way you had the time—or the space—to carry this much food.”

“Does it really matter?” Choji interjected, already reaching for a skewer of grilled meat. “This is a lifesaver. We should be grateful.”

“Exactly!” Naruto grinned, handing out more food. “See, Choji gets it!”

As much as Sakura wanted to argue, her stomach growled in protest. Huffing, she grabbed a rice ball. “Fine. But if this turns out to be some weird jutsu, I’m not taking the blame.”

“Why would it be a jutsu?” Ino raised a brow.

Sasuke, who had remained silent, narrowed his eyes at Naruto. “Because it’s Naruto.”

Naruto scowled. “Wow, real nice, Sasuke.”

While the two bickered, the others dug in. The lightheartedness of the moment was a rare comfort in the midst of the deadly exam. They all knew that the forest still held threats lurking in the shadows, but for now, it was nice to sit back, relax, and eat a good meal before moving forward.

Shikamaru glanced up at the sky. “We’ve got three days left to make it to the tower. If we keep our pace, we should get there before the final day.”

Harry, chewing on some dried fish, nodded. “We should still be careful, though. We don’t know who else is still out there.”

“Yeah,” Sakura agreed, glancing at the bandages wrapped around her right eye. “And considering what we’ve already been through, I doubt it’s going to be smooth sailing.”

Shikamaru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Troublesome.”

After finishing their meal, they packed up and resumed their journey, keeping a steady but cautious pace. The laughter and casual chatter from earlier faded as they focused on their surroundings, aware that the next three days would determine whether or not they made it out of this forest alive.

The air was thick with the scent of blood.

Anko Mitarashi knelt beside the bodies of fallen genin, her jaw tightening as she examined the gruesome scene. Three bodies—one slumped against a tree, another face-down in the dirt, the last crumpled with their back to the trunk, kunai still lodged in their throat. Their headbands were scratched out, slashed right through the metal—rogue ninja? No, that didn’t fit. The way they were killed was too brutal and too efficient. Whoever did this hadn’t fought for sport. This was an execution.

The Forest of Death was dangerous, but not like this. Not this early into the exam.

Anko’s grip on her trench coat tightened as she stood, scanning the surrounding trees with sharp, experienced eyes. The reports of missing teams had initially been brushed off—genin getting lost or knocked out was part of the process—but dead genin? That wasn’t supposed to happen. At least, not this early in the exams.

Something was wrong.

And that’s when she felt it. A presence. A chill crept down her spine, the weight of a familiar, suffocating aura pressing against her. Her breath hitched, and her muscles tensed before she even turned around.

A slow, deliberate clapping echoed through the trees.

Anko spun around instantly, kunai drawn, her body already shifting into a defensive stance. The sight before her sent a rush of cold dread through her veins.

There he was.

No disguise. No tricks. No false faces.

Orochimaru.

The pale, snake-like man stood casually amidst the trees, his serpentine eyes gleaming with amusement, his lips curling into a smirk. His presence alone felt like venom seeping into the very air, corrupting the atmosphere around them.

Anko’s throat was dry, but she forced her voice out anyway. “What the hell are you doing here, Orochimaru?”

Orochimaru chuckled, tilting his head as if the answer should have been obvious. “Anko. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Her grip on the kunai tightened, her nails digging into her palm. “Answer me.”

Orochimaru stepped forward, slow, unhurried. "Why am I here?" he repeated, almost in amusement. "Well, isn't it obvious?"

Anko braced herself, her pulse pounding against her ears. She already knew it wasn't going to be a simple answer.

"I'm here for potential," he said smoothly, eyes glinting. "For the ones who will shape the future."

Anko's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Orochimaru let out a low chuckle. "Sasuke Uchiha," he mused. "And… Harry Potter."

Anko flinched. Sasuke, she could have expected. But Harry?

The sheer fact that Orochimaru even knew that name sent alarm bells ringing in her head. Harry was a complete unknown—no clan, no notable background, nothing—but somehow, Orochimaru had taken an interest. And that was never a good thing.

“They show promise,” Orochimaru continued, his voice slithering into the air like the hiss of a snake. “The entirety of Team 7, actually. Fascinating, really. They remind me of… an old team I once had.”

Anko felt her stomach twist. She knew exactly which team he was referring to.

The Legendary Sannin.

For a moment, something unreadable flickered across Orochimaru’s expression. A ghost of a memory. But just as quickly, it was gone—buried, discarded like it meant nothing.

Anko took a slow step forward, every nerve in her body on high alert. “Stay the hell away from them.”

Orochimaru smiled. “You know I can’t do that, Anko.”

Her jaw clenched. "If you think I'm just going to let you do whatever you want—"

"Anko," Orochimaru interrupted, voice almost pitying. "I am not here for you."

And in a blur, he was gone.

Anko remained frozen for a long moment, her pulse still racing, the weight of his presence lingering like a phantom hand around her throat.

She exhaled sharply, shoving her kunai back into its holster.

This was bad. This was really bad.

If Orochimaru had set his sights on Team 7, then things were only going to get worse.

The council chamber was thick with tension, the kind that settled into the bones and refused to leave. Anko stood in front of the assembled shinobi, her report still fresh in their ears. The revelation of Orochimaru’s presence in the Chunin Exams had thrown the room into a state of unease, with Hiruzen Sarutobi sitting at the head of the discussion, fingers steepled as he processed the information.

Danzo’s single visible eye gleamed with suspicion. “So, the Snake returns to Konoha after all these years. It’s clear he’s here for more than just an interest in Sasuke Uchiha.” His voice was sharp, probing, as he tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair. “The question is, what does he intend to do? We cannot risk another war. Not now.”

Koharu Utatane frowned. “This could be an attempt to destabilize Konoha internally. His mere presence here is a threat.”

“We don’t know how many of his forces are inside the village,” Homura Mitokado added, adjusting his glasses. “If he has infiltrated the exams, then he may have spies among the participants… or worse, among the instructors.”

Anko crossed her arms, lips curling into a sneer. “He didn’t say much, but the bastard made it clear—he’s here for Sasuke Uchiha. And Harry Potter.”

That caused a ripple in the room. Several council members exchanged glances, some of them more alarmed than others.

“Harry Potter?” Koharu repeated, raising a brow. “He is an anomaly, yes, but why would Orochimaru be interested in him?”

“The boy may possess a bloodline we have no records of,” Danzo murmured, his voice thoughtful. “Something that emerged only recently.”

Hiruzen’s expression darkened. He had been afraid of this. “It isn’t just Harry and Sasuke,” he said finally. “It’s Team 7. Orochimaru sees their potential.”

Just as he finished speaking, the heavy wooden doors to the council room creaked open. The air shifted—there was no other way to describe it. A hush fell over the council chamber, and even Danzo, usually impassive, looked up with sharp attention.

A figure stepped inside, his presence demanding without a single word. He moved with a measured pace, his cane tapping softly against the polished wood floor.

Hayato Namikaze had arrived.

Draped in robes that bore the insignia of the Namikaze Clan, he cut an imposing figure despite the passage of years. His presence was a paradox—aged yet unwavering, a shadow of the past stepping boldly into the present. His hair, though streaked with silver, still held its golden sheen. His piercing eyes, the same sharp blue as his nephew’s, swept over the room with an intensity that sent a silent message: he had not returned to be ignored.

For years, Hayato had been nothing more than a legend, a ghost whispered about in Konoha’s streets and the shinobi world alike. The forgotten Namikaze. The recluse who had buried himself in grief after Minato and Kushina’s deaths. But now, he stood before them, very much alive and very much present.

The silence was deafening.

Hiruzen was the first to break it. His expression, carefully neutral, did little to hide the weight of his words. “…Hayato.”

Danzo leaned forward, his visible eye narrowing ever so slightly. “You’ve chosen an interesting time to resurface.”

“I choose my moments wisely,” Hayato replied, his voice smooth but firm, carrying the weight of authority without effort. “And considering what I’ve just overheard, it seems my timing couldn’t be better.”

The cane in his grip rested easily against the ground, but the room was under no illusion, this was not a man weakened by time. This was a Namikaze, and the power in his presence alone was undeniable.

“I was content to stay in my solitude,” Hayato continued, his gaze shifting toward the Hokage. “But that changed the moment I took Naruto and Harry into my care.” His expression turned unreadable. “Now, I find that a snake has slithered back into Konoha, with a vested interest in my wards.”

He looked at Anko, then back to Hiruzen. “Tell me, old friend, how exactly do you intend to deal with this?”

The Third Hokage exhaled slowly, knowing full well that Hayato’s return changed everything.

Hayato Namikaze took his seat at the council table with the ease of a man who had once belonged there, his cane resting against the polished wood beside him. Though he settled into the chair, his presence loomed large, commanding the room in a way that few could. The council, despite their decades of experience in political maneuvering, found themselves momentarily at a loss.

For years, Hayato had been absent, a myth more than a man. Yet here he was, draped in the robes of the Namikaze clan, sitting at their table as if he had never left. The silence was thick, filled with questions unspoken—until finally, Koharu Utatane broke it.

“Since you have chosen to involve yourself, Lord Namikaze,” she began carefully, “perhaps you can shed some light on the boy in your custody. Harry Potter.”

Danzo’s fingers drummed against the table. “There are no files on him. No records, no background, nothing.” His visible eye glinted. “It is as if he does not exist.”

Homura adjusted his glasses. “That, in itself, is highly suspicious.”

Hayato’s expression did not change. “He is my nephew.” His voice was even, but firm. “And he is Naruto’s brother.”

That caused a stir. The council exchanged glances, some skeptical, others contemplative.

“Brother?” Koharu questioned. “There has been no mention of another Namikaze descendant. If this child is blood-related, then why is there no record of his existence?”

Hayato’s gaze remained steady. “Because it was never your concern.”

Danzo scoffed. “That is not for you to decide. An unknown child, now a shinobi of Konoha, whose abilities are of interest to Orochimaru? That is very much our concern.”

Hayato leaned back slightly, his fingers lacing together. “Harry arrived in Naruto’s life at the academy and stuck to him like a shadow. If you ask Naruto, they have always been brothers. And I suspect if you ask Harry, he will say the same.” His tone was calm, but beneath it lay a quiet steel. “Harry changed Naruto. I’m sure you all noticed—how Naruto abandoned his pranks, his mischief, his desperate cries for attention, how he trained harder. How he graduated.”

Hiruzen remained silent, listening carefully as Hayato maneuvered the conversation with precision.

“The boy was a stabilizing force,” Hayato continued. “Something Naruto had never been given before.”

“Then perhaps we should be wary of him,” Danzo stated smoothly. “A boy with no past, no lineage, no records, yet capable enough to influence the jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails? That is not something to ignore.”

Hayato’s fingers twitched against his cane, but his expression remained unreadable.

Danzo leaned forward slightly. “Naruto was always meant to be a weapon for Konoha. A tool to be honed and used—”

The chair scraped against the floor as Hayato abruptly stood. His movement was slow, deliberate. He placed one hand on the table and turned his sharp, piercing gaze onto Danzo.

“I will tell you this once, Danzo,” Hayato said, voice cold and even. “If you ever refer to Naruto as a mere tool in my presence again, I will rip your other eye from your skull.”

The air in the chamber grew thick with killing intent.

Danzo, despite his years of experience, stiffened. A pin-drop silence followed. Even the ANBU stationed in the shadows seemed hesitant to move.

Hayato did not look away, his threat hanging in the air like a drawn blade. “Naruto is not a weapon. He is a boy who has been denied everything—family, love, respect. And yet, despite it all, he has remained loyal to this village. If he had been raised under your ideals, Danzo, Konoha would have burned by now.”

Danzo’s fingers curled slightly against the armrest, but he said nothing.

The moment stretched before Hiruzen exhaled quietly and spoke. “Enough.” His voice, though calm, left no room for argument. “This is not the time for division. Orochimaru is the threat we must focus on.”

Hayato took his seat once more, though his gaze never left Danzo until the man finally looked away.

“…If Orochimaru is interested in Harry Potter, then we must assume the boy possesses a unique ability,” Koharu said, shifting the conversation back on track. “Perhaps a kekkei genkai or even a hidden dōjutsu.”

“There is no surprise that he has taken an interest in all of Team 7,” Homura admitted. “They have proven themselves time and again. They survived an S-rank mission at their genin stage. And they were responsible for dismantling the Dagger’s Veil.”

That caused a ripple in the room. The Dagger’s Veil—a terrorist group that had existed for as long as the Akatsuki. Few had dared to challenge them. Even fewer had survived the attempt.

“Their strength is undeniable,” Hiruzen acknowledged. “And now, they have captured the attention of one of Konoha’s greatest enemies.”

Koharu frowned. “If Orochimaru truly sees them as valuable, then we must assume he has long-term plans for them.”

Hayato’s grip on his cane tightened. “Then we do not give him the chance to act on them.”

The room fell into deep contemplation. They all knew one truth—this was no longer just about the Chunin Exams.

This was about what came next.

The weight of the conversation settled over the council chamber, the gravity of Orochimaru’s presence sinking in. A known traitor, a criminal of the highest order, and one of Konoha’s most dangerous enemies were lurking within their walls. That alone warranted an immediate response, but the fact that his interest lay in Team 7—Naruto, Harry, Sasuke, and Sakura—complicated things further. This was not just an infiltration. It was the prelude to something larger.

Hiruzen exhaled slowly, his fingers laced together as he regarded the gathered council. “This information does not leave this room,” he declared, his tone carrying an undeniable authority. “Panic within the village will only serve to disrupt our forces. We cannot afford disorder while Orochimaru is at large.”

Homura nodded, his expression grim. “Then what do you propose, Lord Hokage?”

“We prepare.” Hiruzen’s gaze swept across the room. “I will tighten surveillance immediately. The ANBU will increase their patrols throughout the village, particularly within and around the tower of the Chunin Exam’s second stage. No movements will go unnoticed.”

Koharu tapped her fingers against the table in thought. “And what of the clan heads? They will want to know if a threat of this magnitude lurks in Konoha.”

“They will be informed,” Hiruzen affirmed. “But discreetly. Summon them under the guise of a routine security briefing. We do not need unnecessary paranoia spreading. I will ensure they understand the gravity of this situation without causing unrest.”

Danzo, who had been silent since Hayato’s earlier threat, finally spoke. “This will not be enough.” His tone was sharp but calculated. “Orochimaru is not foolish. He would have anticipated an increase in security the moment he made his move. If we only act defensively, we will be playing into his hands.”

Hayato scoffed. “And what do you suggest? That we send forces blindly into the forest to hunt him down? That would be more foolish than waiting.”

Danzo did not rise to the bait. “I suggest we prepare a contingency. If Orochimaru has an objective, he will act soon. We need a force ready to move the moment he does.” His fingers steepled. “If he has already set his sights on Team 7, then we must assume he will make another move before the exams conclude.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. That was the crux of it. Orochimaru was here for a reason, and it was only a matter of time before he struck.

Hiruzen sighed. “Then we will have ANBU closely monitor the remaining genin. If there is even a whisper of Orochimaru’s presence near them, I want to know immediately.”

Koharu frowned slightly. “And what of Team 7 themselves? Do we inform them?”

Hayato’s jaw tightened slightly. “No. Not yet.”

Danzo glanced at him. “Keeping them in the dark will only put them at greater risk.”

Hayato’s gaze was sharp. “And telling them will accomplish what? That they should run? That they should be afraid? They are in the middle of an exam that requires them to maintain their wits. If we burden them with the knowledge that one of the most dangerous men in history is hunting them, they may hesitate at the wrong moment.”

Hiruzen nodded. “Hayato is correct. We do not inform them yet. However, we will place subtle safeguards in place.” His gaze turned toward one of the masked ANBU lingering in the shadows. “Assign operatives to shadow Team 7’s movements. They are not to interfere unless absolutely necessary.”

The ANBU bowed in silent acknowledgment before vanishing.

“The other genin teams should also be monitored,” Homura added. “If Orochimaru has allies, they may attempt to sow chaos by attacking other candidates.”

“We will deploy ANBU accordingly,” Hiruzen confirmed. “The Uchiha, Hyuga, and Aburame clans will also be informed discreetly. Their eyes and surveillance techniques may detect movements our standard patrols miss.”

“And what of Jiraiya?” Koharu asked. “If there is anyone capable of countering Orochimaru’s movements, it is him.”

Hiruzen exhaled, rubbing his temple. “I will send word to him, but Jiraiya moves at his own pace. If he is willing, he will come.”

Hayato, despite his earlier cold demeanor, frowned slightly at the mention of the Sannin. There was no guarantee Jiraiya would make it in time, and even if he did, Orochimaru would not wait for his arrival before making his next move.

Danzo’s fingers tapped against the table. “This entire situation is a delicate balance of power,” he murmured. “If we fail to contain Orochimaru now, the consequences may extend beyond the Chunin Exams. If another village suspects his presence here, they may view Konoha as compromised.”

Koharu’s expression darkened. “And that could invite hostility. Even war.”

The unspoken truth settled over them like a thick fog. This was no longer a matter of just one rogue ninja causing trouble. This was a potential political catastrophe. If word got out that Konoha had allowed a known S-rank criminal within its walls, their enemies would seize upon it as a sign of weakness.

Hiruzen inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “We cannot afford to make any mistakes. Orochimaru has the advantage of knowing his own plan. We do not. But we will be prepared.”

Danzo’s expression was unreadable, but he inclined his head slightly. “Then let us hope your preparations are enough.”

With that, the meeting came to an end. The council slowly rose, each member carrying the weight of their duty. Orders would be issued, shadows would move, and the village would brace itself for the storm they all knew was coming.

And in the center of it all, unbeknownst to them, Team 7 remained in the heart of the battlefield, having already dealt with the predator lurking in the dark.

The circular chamber of the Clan Council was silent, save for the faint flickering of torches casting shadows across the stone walls. This was not a meeting convened under normal circumstances. This was an emergency, and the weight of it settled over the heads of Konoha’s most powerful clans. At the center of the room, standing before the assembled leaders, was Hiruzen Sarutobi. His aged face betrayed the gravity of the situation, but his tone remained steady. “Orochimaru has infiltrated the Chunin Exams.”

The declaration sent a ripple of unease through the council. Some, like Hiashi Hyuga, remained stoic, while others, like Shikaku Nara, narrowed their eyes in thought.

“Are you certain of this?” Shibi Aburame’s voice was measured, but the subtle movement of the insects under his cloak betrayed his tension.

“Yes.” Hiruzen exhaled. “Anko Mitarashi encountered him personally. He made no attempt to conceal himself. He is here for a purpose.”

“That much is obvious,” Tsume Inuzuka growled, her sharp fangs bared slightly. “The question is, what is that purpose?”

At that, Hiashi Hyuga spoke. His pale lavender eyes, devoid of pupils, remained cold. “It is clear that he is after individuals of interest. My clan has already suspected that he seeks the Uchiha boy.”

Fugaku Uchiha was long dead, but Sasuke was still the last living heir of Konoha’s Uchiha. The boy was an orphan with no formal backing—politically vulnerable, despite his power.

“He is not only interested in Sasuke.” Shikaku leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Anko reported that he mentioned both Sasuke Uchiha and… Harry Potter.”

Silence.

There was no recorded background on Harry Potter. The boy had simply appeared years ago, registered as an orphan, and had attached himself to Naruto Uzumaki. There had been no concerns—until now.

“Who is he?” Hiashi asked, cutting straight to the point. “The Hyuga have investigated, and there is no lineage in the village connected to him. He does not belong to any clan.”

The Third Hokage remained still. “Harry is under the custody of Hayato Namikaze.”

The weight of those words settled in the air. Hayato was a legend, a man so powerful that even some of the older clan heads had once feared his presence on the battlefield. His voluntary exile after the loss of Minato and Kushina had left a void in the power structure of the village. Now, he had resurfaced, with this mystery boy under his protection.

“That does not answer the question.” Hiashi’s tone was sharp. “Where did he come from?”

The Third’s face remained impassive. “That is not a matter for discussion at this time.”

Tsume scoffed. “Of course not.”

Shikaku’s sharp gaze flickered between the Hokage and Danzo, who sat silently in the shadows, observing. This secrecy was deliberate. If Hiruzen did not want to answer, then there was something larger at play.

“The fact remains that Orochimaru is here, and he is interested in Team 7,” Hiruzen continued. “Whether it is Sasuke, Harry, or even the team as a whole, his attention on them places us all in danger.”

“The fact that he entered Konoha’s borders at all means we have already failed.” Hiashi’s words were ice. “This was allowed to happen under your watch.”

Hiruzen did not flinch, but the rebuke was felt throughout the room.

“It is not only Orochimaru we must consider,” Shibi said, his voice calm but firm. “There are greater consequences if this is not handled correctly. If word of Orochimaru’s presence leaks outside the village, Konoha will be seen as compromised. Our enemies will act.”

“The Land of Earth has already been seeking justification for conflict,” Chōza Akimichi rumbled. “This will be the perfect excuse.”

“It will not only be Iwa.” Shikaku exhaled. “If we appear weak, the Land of Lightning will take advantage. The Raikage is ambitious. He will push.”

Hiashi’s expression darkened. “And if the Land of Lightning moves, then Kiri will not be far behind.”

The room grew heavier with the realization. The shinobi world was built on a delicate, fragile balance of power. Every nation watched the others, waiting for a moment of vulnerability to seize the upper hand. If Konoha’s security had truly been breached this easily, then every enemy they had ever made would smell blood in the water.

“If Orochimaru makes a move within the village,” Koharu muttered, “the Land of Fire’s daimyo may lose faith in us.”

Another unspoken consequence. The shinobi world was already corrupt, but power was dictated by perception. The Fire Daimyo trusted Konoha to be the strongest of the Five Great Shinobi Villages. If that trust wavered, it would not only weaken the Hokage’s influence—it would give leverage to those who sought to replace him.

“And then,” Danzo finally spoke, his tone unreadable, “we may have more than Orochimaru to deal with.”

For a moment, no one spoke.

This was the reality of their world. There were no simple answers. The shinobi system itself was a construct of war, built upon power, deception, and control. Even as they sat here discussing the threat of Orochimaru, each clan was weighing their own interests.

Shikaku’s eyes remained on Danzo for a moment longer before speaking. “Then we must move carefully. The public must not know, but every clan must prepare for the worst.”

“Agreed.” Hiashi’s voice was firm. “The Hyuga will increase security around the village’s perimeter.”

“The Inuzuka can track down any foreign presence within the village,” Tsume said, nodding toward Hiruzen. “We’ll make sure no one else sneaks in.”

“The Nara, Akimichi, and Yamanaka will coordinate our own networks,” Shikaku said simply. “If there’s something we’re missing, we’ll find it.”

Shibi nodded. “The Aburame will work with the ANBU in reconnaissance. We’ll ensure that Orochimaru doesn’t remain hidden for long.”

Hiruzen took in the gathered clan heads, the tension thick in the air. Despite the power struggles and the politics at play, they all understood the same truth.

Orochimaru’s presence was not just an external threat, it was a test of Konoha’s strength. And if they failed, the consequences would not be just another battle.

It would be war.

The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the small flickering lamps placed at intervals along the walls. Konoha’s elite jonin stood in a loose circle, the air between them thick with tension. These were not the usual debriefings—they were being pulled into something deeper, something dangerous.

Hiruzen Sarutobi sat at the head of the room, his expression unreadable. To his right stood Danzo, arms folded within the sleeves of his robe, ever the silent specter of manipulation. Across from them, Kakashi Hatake leaned casually against the wall, his lone eye scanning the faces of the gathered shinobi.

“Let’s get straight to the point,” Hiruzen began. “Orochimaru is here.”

A ripple of unease spread through the room. Even among seasoned jonin, the name carried weight. Asuma Sarutobi tensed, arms crossed over his chest. Kurenai Yuhi’s eyes narrowed, her hands tightening at her sides. Gai, normally an unshakable beacon of enthusiasm, stood rigid.

“Orochimaru?” Asuma exhaled sharply. “In Konoha?”

“Why now?” Kurenai muttered. “The Chunin Exams?”

The Hokage’s gaze flickered toward Anko, who stood in the corner, jaw clenched, fingers twitching as if itching for a kunai. “Anko encountered him personally,” Hiruzen said. “He is here for a reason. We believe that reason is Team 7.”

All eyes shifted toward Kakashi. He met their gazes without reaction.

“More specifically,” Danzo’s voice was smooth, and calculated, “Sasuke Uchiha and Harry Potter.”

The shift in tension was palpable. Sasuke’s name made sense—he was the last Uchiha under Konoha’s banner, the only known survivor of the massacre aside from Itachi. But Harry Potter?

Kakashi sighed, pushing off the wall. “If you’re asking me who Harry is,” he said, “the answer is simple. He’s Naruto’s brother.”

“That much, we’ve been told,” Hiashi Hyuga remarked coolly. “But that does not explain his origins.”

Kakashi tilted his head slightly, his tone neutral. “He’s an orphan, just like Naruto.”

There was a pause. It was clear that no one in the room fully believed that answer, but pushing further would be an exercise in futility. Kakashi’s mask wasn’t just physical—it was in his very being. He wasn’t going to say anything he didn’t want to.

“Regardless,” Kakashi continued, “Harry has been part of the Academy system for years now. His record is there. He performed well—top of his class in many areas. He’s intelligent, adaptable, and, from what I’ve seen, highly talented.”

“That does not answer whether he possesses a kekkei genkai,” Danzo interrupted.

Kakashi’s gaze flickered toward the old war hawk, and for the first time, a dangerous edge entered his tone. “As far as I can tell, he does not.”

Danzo remained impassive. “But you are not certain.”

“No.” Kakashi shrugged. “But I don’t see any sign of a bloodline limit or a dōjutsu.” His lone eye darkened slightly. “And believe me, I would know.”

The subtle reminder of the Sharingan under his forehead protector did not go unnoticed.

Hiruzen exhaled through his nose. “Regardless of Harry’s origins, we cannot ignore the fact that Orochimaru has taken an interest in him. That alone makes him a target.”

“Not just him,” Asuma muttered. “Team 7 as a whole.”

Kakashi nodded. “That much is obvious. Sasuke’s potential has been evident since the Academy. Naruto… has been underestimated by most, but not by those paying attention.”

“And Harry?” Kurenai prompted.

Kakashi was silent for a beat. Then, his gaze sharpened. “Harry fights differently. He doesn’t rely on brute strength like Naruto or honed precision like Sasuke. He’s… adaptable. Unpredictable. He learns fast, and he thinks faster. That’s why he changed Naruto for the better—he gave him focus.”

The jonin absorbed this information, and a silent understanding passed between them. Naruto had always been dismissed as a fool, but those who had taken the time to truly watch knew otherwise. If Harry had been a key factor in his development, then his presence alone had already shifted Konoha’s future.

“That still doesn’t explain why Orochimaru is interested in him,” Danzo pressed. “Unless he possesses something beyond his skills.”

“We don’t have the answer to that yet,” Hiruzen admitted. “But we must assume that Orochimaru does.”

A weighted pause followed.

“Then what about the Sound?” Shikaku Nara, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his sharp mind piecing things together. “If Orochimaru is here, it’s unlikely he came alone.”

“Correct.” Hiruzen nodded. “It’s best to assume that the Sound Genin are not here simply to take the Chunin Exams.”

Kakashi’s expression darkened. “Meaning they’re Orochimaru’s subordinates.”

The tension in the room thickened.

“They will need to be monitored,” Shikaku murmured, rubbing the back of his head. “If Orochimaru has already infiltrated the exams, then the Sound team could be a smokescreen for something else.”

“Agreed.” The Third Hokage’s expression hardened. “We will increase ANBU surveillance and instruct the proctors to remain vigilant.”

Danzo gave a slow nod. “And if the Sound shinobi are discovered as his agents?”

“Then they will be eliminated,” Hiruzen stated flatly.

Silence.

This was no longer just a test for the genin. This was a battlefield wrapped in the illusion of an exam.

Shikaku sighed. “Troublesome.”

Kakashi’s gaze flickered toward the shadows of the room, where unseen ANBU stood, listening. If the ANBU had a lead, then weeding out Orochimaru’s forces was the next step.

“Then it’s settled.” Hiruzen stood, his presence filling the room. “Konoha’s security will be tightened. We cannot afford to make a single misstep.”

The Jonin nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

Orochimaru was here.

And if they didn’t act carefully, Konoha wouldn’t just be fighting him.

They would be fighting a war.