The Two Vessels!
Morning sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of the Forest of Death as Team 7 and Team 10 pressed forward, their pace steady and efficient. With the tower now within reach and their bodies well-rested from the night before, their spirits were notably lighter—though exhaustion still clung to them. Naruto, ever the energy source of the group, was practically bouncing with each step, stuffing a rice ball into his mouth between words. “Oi, Sakura,” he said, voice muffled through the food, “are you and Ino, like, ex-girlfriends or something?”
Sakura tripped.
Harry and Sasuke, who had been walking a little ahead, both turned their heads in curiosity. Harry raised an eyebrow while Sasuke, for once, actually looked somewhat interested in the conversation.
Sakura caught herself quickly, whipping around to glare at Naruto, who was grinning like he’d just discovered the meaning of life. “What,” she said flatly, “did you just say?”
Naruto shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, you guys are always arguing, but then she flirts with you all the time, and you’re always like ‘shut up, Ino,’ but you never actually, you know, stop her. So obviously, something’s up.”
Harry hummed, pretending to think deeply. “Now that he mentions it,” he said, looking at Sakura, “it is kind of suspicious.”
Sasuke, the last person anyone expected to engage in nonsense, actually nodded. “Hn. It would explain a lot.”
Sakura looked between them like they’d all grown second heads. “Are you guys serious right now?”
Naruto grinned, slinging an arm over her shoulders. “Just saying, y’know, if you have feelings for her, we totally support you. Ain’t that right, guys?”
“Absolutely,” Harry said with a straight face.
“Hn,” Sasuke agreed.
Sakura smacked Naruto’s arm off her and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You absolute morons. Ino is my rival, not my ex-girlfriend.”
Naruto, Harry, and Sasuke all made the same disbelieving faces.
“Riiiiiight,” Naruto drawled.
Sasuke crossed his arms. “You do realize she’s been flirting with you the entire time, don’t you?”
“She flirts with everyone!” Sakura snapped.
Harry, now thoroughly amused, shook his head. “No, no, she bullies everyone. She flirts with you.”
Sakura sputtered, ready to argue, but Naruto, of all people, made a thoughtful noise. “You know, Sasuke’s right. You should probably just grow a pair and stop being so dense.”
Sakura whipped her head toward Sasuke. “Excuse me?”
Sasuke shrugged, looking completely unbothered. “If you’re interested, don’t waste time overthinking. If you’re not, tell her to stop. Simple.”
Sakura opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.
“Uh-huh.” Naruto smirked. “See? Even you don’t know.”
Sakura groaned loudly and sped up her pace, leaving the boys laughing behind her.
Sakura quickened her pace, leaving behind the three biggest idiots in Konoha—no, in the entire Elemental Nations. She wasn’t flustered. She wasn’t.
She was just…warm. That was all.
As she reached Team 10, she noticed Ino, Shikamaru, and Chōji throwing her curious glances. Shikamaru, ever the lazy observer, simply raised an eyebrow. Chōji paused mid-crunch on his snack, and Ino, being the nosy menace she was, leaned in with a smirk.
“Why’s your face all red, forehead?” Ino asked, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Sakura grumbled under her breath, tightening her grip on her new iron fans. “No reason.”
“Liar,” Ino said immediately.
“Drop it, Ino,” Sakura grumbled, looking straight ahead.
Ino did not drop it.
“Let me guess,” she hummed, tapping her chin. “The boys said something dumb? No, wait, Naruto said something dumb, and Sasuke actually agreed, and now your brain short-circuited because hell must’ve frozen over for that to happen.”
Sakura grumbled louder.
Shikamaru, wisely choosing to stay out of it, sighed and looked up at the sky as if asking for patience. Chōji simply offered her some chips, which she accepted with a grateful nod.
Ino, though, was relentless. “C’mon, what did they say? I must know.”
Sakura exhaled through her nose. “They asked if you and I were ex-girlfriends.”
Silence.
Then:
“PFFT—”
Chōji choked on his chip. Shikamaru gave an incredulous grunt of amusement. Ino? Ino cackled.
“Oh my—oh my god, they’re so stupid!” Ino wheezed, clutching her stomach. “Wait—wait, what did you say?”
“That you’re my rival, obviously!” Sakura huffed.
“Oh, come on,” Ino teased, bumping their shoulders together. “They’re not wrong—”
“They are wrong.”
“Are they, though?”
Sakura turned to glare, only to see Ino wiggling her eyebrows.
Sakura groaned, rubbing her temples. “You’re all the worst.”
Still laughing, Ino flicked a stray leaf from Sakura’s hair. “Whatever you say, forehead.”
Deciding she needed a distraction before she lost her entire mind, Sakura reached up and started unwrapping the bandage covering her injured eye. It had been long enough—at least twenty-four hours since the injury, and she had felt the wound tighten over time. Based on what she had read in medical books, superficial cuts could begin closing within a few hours, while deeper wounds—like the one across her eye—could take longer, but should be scabbed over by now. As the last strip of cloth fell away, she blinked, adjusting to the sudden exposure. Her right eye, once swollen from the cut, was now significantly less inflamed. The skin felt tight, a telltale sign that the wound had healed enough to scar. The cut had started just above her eyebrow and traveled diagonally across her eyelid before stopping at the top of her cheekbone.
It was a scar. Her scar.
It wasn’t pretty, but it also wasn’t as grotesque as she had feared. The kunai had been sharp, meaning the edges of the cut had been clean and straight. The lack of infection—thanks to her quick cleaning—had also prevented complications. The skin was still tender, and the scar itself was pinkish-red, a sign that it was still healing beneath the surface.
She studied her reflection in a nearby puddle, tilting her head slightly. Huh.
“So?” Ino asked, stepping beside her. “How bad is it?”
Sakura shrugged. “Not as bad as I thought.”
Ino examined her face and hummed. “It’s kinda badass, honestly.”
Sakura snorted. “Says the girl who always brags about her perfect skin.”
“I mean, yeah,” Ino said with a dramatic hair flip. “But your whole thing is being a battle-hardened kunoichi, right? You just leveled up.”
Sakura rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips. “Gee, thanks, Pig.”
“Anytime, forehead.”
Behind them, Naruto, Harry, and Sasuke were still whispering conspiratorially.
Shikamaru sighed. “Can we please just get to the tower without any more relationship drama?”
“Unlikely,” Chōji muttered.
Sakura groaned, ignoring the laughter around her as they continued their journey.
The sun had risen fully now, casting streaks of gold through the dense canopy of the Forest of Death. Team 7 and Team 10 moved swiftly through the trees, their steps synchronized as they pushed forward, making good time toward the tower. Their movements were efficient, precise—shinobi-like—yet the atmosphere remained light. That is, until Naruto suddenly jerked to a stop on a branch, his eyes narrowing as he sniffed the air.
Sasuke landed beside him, his own senses on alert. “What?”
Naruto didn’t answer immediately, instead tilting his head as if listening for something. A second later, his expression hardened. “There’s fighting up ahead.”
That was all it took.
Team 7 and Team 10 shifted gears, their playful demeanor vanishing as they adopted serious expressions. They moved swiftly, barely disturbing the branches as they leaped toward the sound of battle. When they arrived, the sight before them was grim.
A two-man team—wait, weren’t teams supposed to have three members?—was locked in combat with another group of three. The two-man team, made up of a white-haired boy with glasses and a guy, whose face was covered, the only thing seen was the odd-looking shades he has on, looked absolutely wrecked. The white-haired one, who appeared to be their leader, had blood dripping from a cut across his forehead, his glasses slightly cracked. His teammate was barely holding on, his stance wavering as he clutched his injured arm.
The opposing team, however, looked practically untouched.
“They’re gonna get killed,” Harry muttered, his grip tightening on the hilt of his katana.
Sakura frowned, assessing the situation. “There’s only two of them. That means their third teammate is either unconscious or—”
“Dead,” Shikamaru finished grimly. “This is bad.”
“We don’t know them,” Sasuke pointed out, his tone cautious. “We don’t know if they’re enemies.”
“They look like they need help more than the other guys,” Naruto argued.
“That doesn’t mean they’re good people,” Shikamaru countered, his arms crossed. “This is a competition.”
Sakura bit her lip. “Even if that’s the case, we can’t just let them die.”
There was a beat of silence as everyone considered their options.
Shikamaru exhaled through his nose, clearly annoyed. “This is such a drag…”
“But we’re doing it, right?” Naruto asked, already cracking his knuckles.
Shikamaru sighed. “Yeah.”
Sakura reached for her fans before realizing—right.
“Ugh, I hate this,” she groaned, her hands clenched into fists.
Naruto blinked at her. “Hate what?”
“I don’t have my fans!” she snapped. “I actually liked fighting with them!”
Sasuke smirked slightly. “You sound like Naruto whining about his ramen.”
“I do not whine,” Naruto retorted.
“You do whine,” Harry confirmed.
Naruto scowled. “Okay, but that’s not the point—the point is, we’re helping, right?”
Sakura exhaled, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”
With that, Team 7 and Team 10 jumped into action.
The fight was about to change.
The moment Team 7 and Team 10 entered the fray, the dynamics of the battle shifted.
Kabuto, despite his battered appearance, immediately took note of how efficiently they moved. They weren’t just jumping in recklessly—this was a well-coordinated effort. How interesting. Even though he already had extensive intel on them, seeing them in action like this was something else entirely. Orochimaru had given him a direct order: Get close to them. Gain their trust. By any means necessary.
And what better way than to play the part of the struggling ally in need of rescue?
Kabuto clutched his side, feigning more weakness than he actually had. His teammate, Yoroi, did the same, staggering back as if barely holding on. They needed to sell this.
The enemy team, however, wasn’t backing down. They were confident, smug even, clearly believing they had already won.
Big mistake.
From the trees, Naruto grinned, cracking his knuckles. “Alright, let’s make this quick, yeah?”
The enemy’s leader sneered. “You think you brats can just butt into our fight? Stay out of this, unless you want to end up like them.” He gestured toward Kabuto’s team.
Naruto ignored the taunt, already surging forward. “Like hell, we will!”
The enemy barely had time to react before Naruto was there. Fast. A blur of white, blue, and force. He feinted left before suddenly ducking low, sweeping the legs out from under the nearest enemy.
“Choji, now!”
Choji, who had been waiting for his cue, smirked. “Baika no Jutsu!”
His body expanded in an instant, growing to massive proportions as he launched himself forward, forcing the other two enemies to scatter. One barely rolled out of the way in time, the ground shaking as Choji’s enlarged form crashed down.
With their attention split, Harry, Sakura, and Ino made their move.
They rushed toward Kabuto and his teammate, moving swiftly.
“You guys still standing?” Harry asked, keeping a careful eye on the battlefield.
Kabuto pushed his glasses up, a weak chuckle escaping him. “Barely, but we’ll live.”
Sakura and Ino immediately went to work, supporting the injured boy while Harry helped Kabuto. Even though his body language was relaxed, Harry didn’t lower his guard. Something about Kabuto felt off, but now wasn’t the time to question it. In the shadows, Sasuke and Shikamaru watched everything unfold.
“You think they’ll need backup?” Sasuke asked, his voice low.
Shikamaru studied the battlefield with sharp eyes. “Not yet. Naruto and Choji are holding their own, but if the enemy gets serious, we’ll have to step in.”
Sasuke nodded. He didn’t trust leaving anything to chance, but for now, he’d wait.
Kabuto, meanwhile, observed everything. Even through his act of being wounded, he analyzed. Naruto’s unpredictability in combat, Harry’s sharp awareness, Sakura’s adaptability, Sasuke’s patience—Orochimaru had been right. This team was something else.
And soon enough, they’d be part of something even greater. But first—he had to play his part.
“Come on,” Kabuto urged, his voice strained as he leaned against Harry. “We need to move before they turn on us again.”
Harry only gave him a sharp glance before nodding. With the battlefield still in chaos, Team 7 and Team 10 pulled back, helping their supposed new allies escape.
And just like that, Orochimaru’s plan was already in motion.
Team 7 and Team 10 moved swiftly through the dense canopy, finding a secluded spot where they could temporarily place Kabuto and his injured teammate, Yoroi. The thick underbrush and overhanging branches provided excellent cover, ensuring they were hidden from any potential threats. Despite the supposed rescue, neither team let their guard down.
Naruto plopped down cross-legged, rummaging through his pack for food, while Sakura crouched beside Yoroi, inspecting his injuries with a careful, experienced eye. Sasuke stood nearby, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on Kabuto, while Harry leaned against a tree, hands resting on his katana's hilt. The air was thick with an unspoken tension.
Shikamaru, ever observant, exhaled through his nose and lazily leaned against a tree, eyes half-lidded but deceptively sharp. Ino sat beside Sakura, watching Kabuto with scrutiny, while Choji munched absentmindedly on a ration bar.
Ino arched a brow. “You’re Kabuto, right? And your teammate?”
“Yoroi,” Kabuto replied smoothly, adjusting his glasses with two fingers. “And you have my thanks. I wasn’t sure we were going to make it out of that alive.” His voice carried the perfect amount of exhaustion, gratitude, and vulnerability—an expertly crafted performance.
Sakura, still tending to Yoroi, didn’t look up as she asked, “And your third teammate?”
A brief pause. Then Kabuto let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “She’s dead.” His voice was soft, laced with just enough sorrow to make it believable. “We were ambushed. It happened too fast. She fought, but... there was nothing we could do.”
Silence fell over the group, but it wasn’t one of mourning. It was one of careful assessment. Sasuke narrowed his eyes, watching Kabuto closely. Something about him didn’t add up. His body language was too composed, too smooth. Someone who had just lost a teammate should be a little more rattled.
Shikamaru hummed. “That’s rough.” His voice was unreadable, but his expression remained neutral. If Kabuto was lying, he wasn’t giving anything away.
Sakura finished securing the last bandage on Yoroi and sat back, wiping her hands on her thigh. “We only stepped in because it looked like you were about to die,” she said plainly. “But we don’t know you. And we don’t trust you.”
Kabuto met her gaze, then smiled. “That’s fair. You’re smart to be cautious.” He pushed up his glasses. “Still, I appreciate the help. I owe you one.”
Sasuke scoffed. “We’re not looking for debts.”
Naruto, who had been unusually quiet, studied Kabuto with a frown. Something wasn’t sitting right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Instead, he huffed and stood up, stretching. “Well, we’re not babysitters. Now that you’re patched up, we’re leaving.”
Ino flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. “Yeah. We’ve got our own exam to pass.”
Kabuto chuckled lightly. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to be a burden.”
Shikamaru side-eyed him, then glanced at his teammates. “Alright, let’s go.”
As Team 7 and Team 10 prepared to leave, Kabuto adjusted his glasses, a flicker of light reflecting off them, momentarily concealing his eyes.
Everything was going according to plan.
Deep in the cover of the foliage, hidden from the view of Team 7 and Team 10, Kabuto moved with practiced ease, shifting slightly so his back pressed against the rough bark of a tree. His hand dipped into the folds of his clothing, retrieving a small, writhing serpent that coiled itself around his fingers. Its scales were a deep, iridescent purple, shimmering faintly in the dim light that trickled through the dense canopy.
This was no ordinary snake. This was a messenger of Orochimaru, a tool of his will, imbued with a terrifying purpose.
Kabuto’s expression remained unreadable as he raised the small serpent to his face, whispering words only it could hear. "You know your task," he murmured, his voice smooth and quiet, a ghost of a smile flickering on his lips. "Go. Seek them out. The chosen ones."
The snake's tongue flickered out, tasting the air, and without hesitation, it slithered from Kabuto’s fingers, vanishing into the shadows of the trees above, seamlessly blending into the network of branches. As Kabuto watched it disappear into the darkness, his thoughts lingered on the decision his master had made. Orochimaru had always been selective, always precise with his choices. The Curse Mark was not something given lightly—it required a host with the right combination of strength, potential, and, most importantly, survivability. Too weak, and the mark would kill them. Too unstable, and they would burn out before they could be of any use.
Sasuke Uchiha and Sakura Haruno.
They were the ones Orochimaru had deemed worthy.
Sasuke was obvious—he carried the blood of the Uchiha, and while his Sharingan was still developing, his potential was undeniable. Orochimaru had long since set his sights on the boy, seeing in him the perfect vessel. The Curse Mark would be the first step in his careful grooming of the Uchiha heir.
But Sakura…
Kabuto smirked slightly, recalling Orochimaru’s assessment of the girl. At first glance, she seemed like the weakest of the team, overshadowed by the raw talent of her teammates. But Orochimaru had seen something more. Her chakra control was pristine, eerily precise for someone her age. More importantly, her mind was sharp and disciplined—something rare in a world where brute force was often mistaken for power. Orochimaru believed that with the right push, she could grow into something formidable.
And Harry Potter? Kabuto’s smirk faded as he considered the enigma that was the other boy. He was different. A foreigner with no records, no background, no lineage that could be traced. Yet, he had survived against odds that should have crushed him. And then there was the unsettling possibility—the whisper of something ancient in his bloodline.
The tale of the Otsutsuki.
It was just a myth. A fragment of shinobi history that had faded into legend. But if there was even a chance that Harry’s bloodline had roots in something that ancient, then Orochimaru wanted more than just to mark him. The Curse Mark wouldn’t be enough.
No, Orochimaru had something different planned for him.
And Naruto? Kabuto chuckled under his breath. Even Orochimaru wasn’t foolish enough to tamper with a Jinchūriki so recklessly. Experimenting on them had historically ended in disaster for those who tried, and Orochimaru knew better than to waste resources on a volatile gamble. Naruto was interesting, certainly, but not worth the risk—not yet.
The plan was already in motion.
The small serpent slithered effortlessly through the trees, tracking the scent of its targets. It would wait, it would watch, and when the time was right, it would strike. Kabuto adjusted his glasses and turned back toward Yoroi, who was shifting slightly as he regained some of his composure. His mission was complete.
The night was still. A deceptive, eerie silence settled over the dense forest, broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves as nocturnal creatures moved unseen. The moon cast faint silver streaks through the thick canopy, illuminating the forms of the resting shinobi huddled in their concealed shelter. Team 7 and Team 10, weary from their earlier encounter, had set up a temporary resting spot within the trees, hidden from immediate detection. They had taken shifts, ever-cautious of potential threats.
But none of them noticed the small, silent predator slithering through the darkness. The snake, the size of a thin vine, moved effortlessly across the forest floor, navigating the terrain with a purpose ingrained deep within its very being. It was an extension of its master’s will, a tool designed for a singular mission.
Find them. Mark them. Disappear.
Its tongue flickered, sensing its targets with unnerving precision. The scent of human sweat and chakra residue filled its senses as it drew closer to the first mark: Sakura Haruno.
She was curled up slightly against the trunk of a tree, her arms loosely crossed over her chest, her breathing even but deceptively light, trained, but not immune to exhaustion. Unlike her teammates, she had no natural enhancements like a bloodline or an inner beast to sustain her. Instead, she relied on her own mental fortitude and control, but tonight, she was vulnerable.
The snake moved swiftly, undetectable in the shadows, until it reached the exposed skin of her shoulder. In an instant, it struck. Its fangs sank into the flesh at the curve of her neck, piercing the muscle with an unnatural precision. Chakra-infused venom seeped into her bloodstream, carrying with it the essence of Orochimaru’s Curse Mark. It burned. It tore through her system like wildfire.
Sakura's breath hitched violently as her body reacted.
Unlike Sasuke, who was naturally gifted with a Uchiha’s strong chakra network, Sakura’s was finely controlled, precise to a degree few shinobi her age could match. The moment the Curse Mark entered her system, her body recognized it as an invasive force. Her chakra surged instinctively in an attempt to fight it off.
Her fingers twitched. Her jaw clenched. Her heartbeat spiked.
The foreign chakra sought to brand itself into her very being, but her body's controlled nature pushed back, attempting to suppress the invasion. A normal shinobi—anyone with even a slightly less refined chakra network—would have been overwhelmed immediately, knocked unconscious from the sheer pressure. But Sakura’s body did not immediately succumb. Her refined chakra control instinctively compartmentalized the foreign influence, holding it at bay for just a moment longer than it should have.
But the mark was not something that could simply be expelled. It was a seed planted deep, waiting to bloom. Just as the three-pronged marking burned into existence against her pale skin, it suddenly faded. The pain did not leave, but it became distant—lurking just beneath the surface, waiting. Her breathing was harsh, but she did not wake. A thin sheen of sweat lined her forehead as her body continued to resist, her chakra working overtime to balance itself against the intrusion.
The snake hesitated for only a second before it slithered away, vanishing into the darkness once more. Its mission was only half complete.
Its next target was a mere few feet away.
Sasuke Uchiha lay on his back, arms folded across his chest in what could only be described as forced relaxation. He was still—too still. Unlike the others, he had not allowed himself to sleep deeply. His body was trained to react at the first sign of danger. But the snake was precise.
It moved fast and struck faster.
The fangs punctured the juncture of his neck and shoulder, embedding the Curse Mark with the same precision. But unlike Sakura, Sasuke’s reaction was immediate and violent.
His body welcomed the foreign chakra. Where Sakura’s refined control had fought the invasion, Sasuke’s Uchiha bloodline absorbed it. His natural affinity for powerful chakra sources, combined with his lingering desperation for strength, allowed the Curse Mark to latch on with little resistance. It flared to life—black, jagged markings searing into his skin, and unlike Sakura’s, his did not fade so easily.
A guttural noise tore from Sasuke’s throat as his entire body jerked. His chakra spiked dangerously, an unnatural wave of energy rippling outward before he grit his teeth and choked down the pain. His breathing became erratic, his limbs trembling as his muscles tensed unnaturally.
The sensation was… wrong but powerful.
The snake released him, knowing it had little time left. Its mission was done. The Curse Marks had been placed. With a final flick of its tongue, it slithered away, vanishing into the darkness just as swiftly as it had come.
The forest fell silent once more.
Sasuke’s breaths were shallow, his skin damp with sweat as the pain subsided into a slow-burning ember deep in his core. The mark remained visible, pulsing faintly before settling into a dormant state. Sakura, on the other hand, remained motionless. Unlike Sasuke, her body had managed to suppress the mark, but at a cost—her chakra was still working overtime, instinctively regulating itself against the new presence inside her. The moment she awoke, she would feel it. The ache, the exhaustion, the lurking presence waiting beneath her skin.
Neither of them had any idea what had just been set into motion.
And by the time they did, it would be too late.
The small, pale serpent moved through the underbrush with an eerie fluidity, weaving seamlessly between the roots and vines of the dense forest. It was fast—silent—completely undetectable as it slithered back to its master. The moonlight barely touched its slick scales as it maneuvered its way into a hidden underground cavern, its destination concealed beneath layers of illusionary genjutsu and natural camouflage. The air inside was damp, thick with the scent of wet stone and something more acrid—something unnatural. Flickering torchlight cast elongated shadows along the jagged walls, giving the space a ghostly, unearthly quality.
And at the very heart of it all sat him.
Orochimaru.
The snake’s tongue flickered as it approached, sensing the immense, oppressive presence of its summoner before it even reached him. It moved to the base of his throne—a stone seat carved into the cavern’s natural formations—before pausing, coiling neatly as its beady, intelligent eyes flicked upward. Orochimaru, dressed in his usual muted tones, sat with a posture that was both relaxed and predatory, his golden, slitted eyes reflecting the firelight. His long, raven-black hair cascaded over his shoulders, framing his pale, sharp features. He was waiting.
The snake lifted its head, jaws parting slightly—
—And spoke.
A whisper, sibilant and low, barely more than a breath of sound. But Orochimaru understood it perfectly.
The Cursed Seal of Heaven had been placed.
He listened, expression unreadable as the serpent relayed every detail of what had transpired. The process had gone as expected. The Uchiha accepted the mark with ease, his chakra signature barely resisting the foreign presence before absorbing it, allowing it to take root. That was expected. That was normal. Orochimaru had chosen Sasuke because of this exact reason—because of his lineage, because of the sheer power of his chakra and the potential it held.
But then…
The girl.
The snake continued, detailing the unexpected resistance of Sakura Haruno. Unlike Sasuke, whose bloodline welcomed the power, her body had fought it. Not in the way most subjects did, with unconscious flailing or rejection leading to eventual death. No—her reaction was precise and controlled. She had actively suppressed the Curse Mark. Not just resisted it. Suppressed it. Forced it dormant.
The faintest shift in Orochimaru’s expression betrayed his intrigue.
How… unexpected.
His long fingers tapped idly against the armrest of his stone seat, his golden eyes narrowing as he absorbed this information.
“…Suppressed it?” His voice was smooth, deliberate, laced with something unreadable. “Not resisted?”
The snake flicked its tongue again, confirming the truth.
A slow, sharp smile crept onto Orochimaru’s face, thin lips curving in a way that sent a shiver through the cavern’s already cold air.
“That’s never happened before.”
The Curse Mark was not something that could be controlled through will alone. It was an invasive force—designed to overtake its host, not be subdued by them. The mark was more than a simple augmentation; it was a tether, a direct link to Orochimaru’s own chakra network, allowing him to influence and manipulate those who bore it.
And yet… this girl had pushed it back. His fingers steepled in front of him, his tongue flickering out briefly in a subconscious mimicry of his summons.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Sasuke had been predictable. The boy’s pride, his hunger for power—it would make him susceptible. The Curse Mark would feed on that desperation, allow him to lean into it naturally, and let himself be consumed by it. Orochimaru had already foreseen it. It was only a matter of time before Sasuke would crave it, seek its power rather than fear it.
But Sakura…
Sakura had denied it.
Orochimaru’s mind worked through the implications rapidly, dissecting what this could mean. He had chosen her alongside Sasuke because of her sheer control. Among the four of them—Sasuke, Naruto, Harry, and her—she had the most refined chakra control, the most delicate precision in her reserves. It was what made her interesting. That was why he selected her in the first place.
But for her to suppress the Curse Mark? That meant her chakra wasn’t just refined. It was adaptive. And that was a trait worth investigating.
“…How fascinating,” he murmured, almost to himself. His golden eyes gleamed with unspoken calculations, thoughts spiraling outward like an intricate web. “She wasn’t supposed to do that. None of them ever have.”
No host had ever done what she did. Not even Anko.
He sat back slightly, considering his next move. He had assumed Sasuke would be the only one of value from that team—aside from Harry Potter, whose potential was an entirely different puzzle—but now, Sakura Haruno had just proven herself to be an anomaly.
He needed to see how far that control extended. Would she be able to suppress it forever? Or… would she crack? Would the mark fester, waiting, only to erupt when her control wavered? Or…
Orochimaru smiled.
Would she be the first to control it?
That thought—that possibility—was more than intriguing. It was delicious. His fingers drummed lightly against his armrest, excitement curling in his gut. He would watch. Observe. Let the mark sit. Let it linger. And when the time came—when the pressure became too great, when her chakra couldn’t hold it back forever—he would see the results for himself.
As for Sasuke… well, that boy’s fate was already sealed. It was only a matter of time.