Fight (a Naruto reborn fanfiction)

🍄🥀 XX 🥀🍄

Part twenty! I didn't think I would ever get this far honestly, but it happened! Before this chapter, this fic already had over 23k words, making it the longest I've ever written. Granted, it's the only one I've ever posted but I have over 100k words still on my laptop that have not seen the light of day beyond the ones I read to my sister.

Because she's just as insane as I am.

Speaking of unposted stories, I have a few one-shots for my other OCs that I could post, should I do that? Let me know.  Anyways, enjoy the chapter.

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Time flies by so fast, Orichimaru thinks as he readies another jutsu. Time flies by so fast and things change just as quick. As a shinobi, he has learned to adapt to change, to use it to his advantage in cruel ways. Humanity is so weak, save for a few people of notice. Humans are so weak, both their minds and bodies.

Orichimaru has sought to change those facts about himself since he was seven years old, holding a black envelope in his hands and feeling his heart go cold. The numbness was welcoming in those moments, but eventually, his emotions went back to normal.

Well, as normal as he could be in any way, shape or form, because the village seems to think of him as unusual, abnormal, a threat. The older he gets the more they hate him, hate his prowess in battle and the things he's done, even though they would most likely already be dead if it weren't for him and his team.

No matter what he does, the warmth in the people's eyes that always shows when they interact with Tsunade or Kagami or Sakumo will never be directed his way. Instead, all he gets is contempt. Himari once told him a story about a child. That in itself wasn't rare, since she always had stories to tell, things to say, songs to sing.

But that story was unusual in many ways, just like the village deemed him as. The child was despised by the people in its home, met with nothing but scorn all of its life. It grew up without the village's warmth so to feel it for once, when it was grown up, it burned the village. The sentence used to describe this by Himari was very thought-provoking.

"The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth."

He had thought about it a lot back then, about what the purpose of telling him the story was, about what would happen if he were to one day do the same. He was older now, fifteen years old, and plans like it had built themselves and crumbled in his mind.

 He did not like the village, that much was certain, but the people that he cared about living there stopped him form ever making these plans a reality. Not to mention that he didn't have the power to attack the village and win.

Orichimaru cut down another enemy with his kunai before slamming his hand on the ground in order to summon Manda. Yet another mission no one expected him to come back after. He would just prove them wrong once more.

"Orichimaru, you have enough time to think about whatever later on, but I don't think this is the best time for that!"

A shinobi behind him was killed by a deadly projectile made from fire and rage. Himari stood there in the ninja's stead, bloody and battered and bruised but still grinning as she pulled her hand out of the chest of yet another enemy.

"I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but you are aware that this is not an easy mission, right? There's people out there strong enough to kill you within seconds if they desire and you are much closer to them than before. Just because this isn't a great war doesn't mean that you can just... ugh, this is so annoying."

Orichimaru gives her a smile that is all teeth. Of course he knows, he has gathered information about the enemy just a few days ago, there are many capable people. If they were to fight in a one vs. one, Orichimaru would probably win against nearly all of them, but the sheer numbers Kumo has at its disposal make up for their lack in strength.