Konoha Academy — Morning Madness, Again
"Alright class, settle down!"
The instructor's voice barely rose above the roar of children stampeding into the room like wild deer. Paper shurikens were flying, someone had stuck two erasers together with gum, and someone (Jiraiya) had somehow gotten their head stuck in a chalkboard frame.
"HOW DOES THIS EVEN HAPPEN?!" the instructor roared.
Jiraiya, swinging helplessly: "I was trying to test if my skull could block genjutsu!"
Orochimaru, sipping tea in the corner: "That's not how illusions or skulls work."
Tsunade muttered, "Can we vote to legally declare him an endangered species?"
the whole class started laughing as if someone sprayed dense laughing gas inside the class.
"QUIET!" the instructor barked. "Today, we're doing group presentations!"
Groans echoed. Jiraiya raised his hand.
"If I present a jutsu that makes people explode with laughter, does that count?"
"No."
"What if it also makes them actually explode?"
"THAT'S A CRIME, JIRAIYA!"
Tsunade turned to Orochimaru. "Please tell me your presentation is normal."
Orochimaru pulled out a scroll titled: "Theoretical Applications of Cellular Regeneration via Chakra-Induced DNA Mutation."
"…I'll take Jiraiya's explosion jutsu," Tsunade muttered.
Lunch Break – The Rice Ball Incident
The trio had retreated to their usual lunch spot beneath the old training tree, where the shade was cool, and the chaos was private.
Tsunade opened her bento box, then immediately slammed it shut.
"JI-RA-I-YA!!!"
Jiraiya blinked, already mid-chew. "What'd I do this time?"
"You swapped our lunches again!"
"Strategic misdirection," he said proudly, holding up her spicy miso rice balls like a trophy. "The art of war!"
Tsunade lunged. "I'll show you the art of war!"
Orochimaru calmly slid both boxes back into their original places while Jiraiya scrambled up the tree like a monkey on fire. "I swear it was an accident! My chakra must've magnetized the wrong lunch!"
"That's not how chakra OR magnets work!" Tsunade shouted.
"Technically, magnetic release is—" Orochimaru began.
"Not helping!" she snapped.
Jiraiya peeked down from the tree branch, upside down.
"Hey Orochimaru, how do you eat like a civilised human when you look like a suspicious poetry teacher?"
Orochimaru blinked. "I chew. Then I swallow."
"Very funny, snake boy."
"I didn't even try that time."
Tsunade grinned. "He's funnier when he's not trying. You're just funny when you hit things."
"Compliment accepted," she said, biting into a rice ball.
Jiraiya, now emboldened, flipped out of the tree and attempted to land in a dramatic crouch. He missed.
Thud.
Face-first into the grass.
Tsunade coughed mid-bite, laughing so hard she nearly choked.
Orochimaru glanced over without emotion. "You've successfully invented the Flying Faceplant Technique. I shall record this historic moment."
He pulled out a tiny notebook and wrote:Jiraiya - First documented user of Face-First Chakra Ground Slam Style. Effect: 0. Dignity lost: 100%.
"Alright," Tsunade said, wiping her mouth. "Let's settle this."
She pulled out three chopsticks and snapped them like mini swords.
"Whoever balances their bento box on their head the longest without spilling anything wins. Losers owe me extra dango."
"Ah, a contest of balance and grace. You're already at a disadvantage," Orochimaru said, placing his box on his head with eerie precision.
"You talk big for someone with the muscle tone of a flute," Tsunade shot back.
Jiraiya tried… and spilled miso soup directly down his back.
"IT'S IN MY SHIRT! IT'S IN MY SHIRT!"
Moments later, all three were lying on the grass, bellies full and faces sore from laughter. Jiraiya had seaweed stuck in his hair. Tsunade was humming a victory song. Orochimaru had surprisingly allowed himself a smirk.
The moment hung quietly between them.
"You know," Jiraiya said, staring at the clouds, "if we ever become jōnin, we should start a squad. Like, our own three-man team."
Tsunade snorted. "With you in it? I'd rather team up with a landmine."
"C'mon! You and me, and Snake Boy here could be our creepy secret weapon."
Orochimaru, eyes half-closed: "I'd rather work with an actual toad."
"You wound me."
As the academy bell rang in the distance, they all sat up.
"You coming, Orochi?" Tsunade asked.
He dusted off his robes.
"I suppose. I can always study immortality after watching Jiraiya blow himself up in ninjutsu class again."
"Hey! That only happened once!"
"Twice," Tsunade and Orochimaru corrected in sync.
And with that, they walked back toward the academy, three small figures beneath the swaying leaves—laughing, bickering, growing closer increasing their bonds.
_______
The sun blazed gently over the Academy's training yard as the instructor clapped his hands.
"Alright, brats! Time for taijutsu drills. One-on-one sparring. No chakra, no jutsu. Just fists, footwork, and faceplants!"
Jiraiya raised his hand. "Sensei, do emotional punches count? 'Cause Tsunade bruised my soul this morning."
Tsunade cracked her knuckles with a smile. "Want me to bruise something else too?"
The students were paired off. Most groaned, others whispered strategies like they were preparing for war.
Orochimaru observed quietly. His eyes were sharp, calculating—analyzing stances, breathing rhythms, balance.
He knew he wasn't the strongest physically.But knowledge… could be weaponized.
His opponent: a sturdy boy named Renga. Not the brightest, but built like a rice barrel.
"Try not to break," Renga said, grinning.
Orochimaru blinked once. "I won't."
Round Start!
Renga charged. Orochimaru sidestepped, used his slight frame to redirect the momentum, then jabbed cleanly at pressure points. Not powerful, but precise.
And then—BAM!—he got caught with a wide swing to the ribs and hit the ground with a heavy thud.
"Ow," he muttered, more annoyed than hurt.
From the sidelines, Jiraiya shouted, "That's what you get for fighting like a poetry book!"
"Keep talking and you'll be writing poems from a hospital bed," Orochimaru grumbled.
meanwhile
Next match: Tsunade vs. Jiraiya.
"Oh no," someone whispered. "Again?"
Jiraiya stood across from her, trying to look calm. "Go easy on me this time?"
Tsunade cracked her neck.
"No."
What followed could not legally be called a 'fight.'More like a controlled demolition.
She ducked his clumsy strike, swept his legs, elbowed him mid-air, and flipped him onto his back so hard the ground asked for mercy.
Thud!
"I think I saw my ancestors," Jiraiya wheezed from the crater he left behind.
Back on his feet, Orochimaru rubbed his bruised side and stared at his hand.
"That hit... I predicted it. But my body wasn't fast enough to move in time."
He looked around—Tsunade's punches, Jiraiya's clumsy but creative movement, other students clashing in bursts of momentum and instinct.
"I've focused too much on refinement. On chakra. On intellect. But what good is genius... if I can't keep up physically?"
He clenched his fist.
"I need more. Not muscle for show—function. I need to train my body to match my mind."
He stepped forward and faced the instructor. "Sensei. Can I have another round?"
Everyone turned.
"With the same opponent?" the instructor asked.
"No. With someone faster."
There was a long silence. Then Tsunade stepped forward, raising a brow. "You sure?"
"I need to learn what my body can't yet do."
The students started whispering. "Is he crazy?" "That's Tsunade!" "Does he have a will written out?!"
Orochimaru vs. Tsunade
They faced each other. Tsunade cracked her knuckles. Orochimaru shifted his stance—not rigid, but flexible, breathing slow, eyes focused.
Jiraiya leaned toward another kid. "This'll be like watching a science experiment try to dodge a wrecking ball."
The bell rang.
Tsunade moved fast—faster than Renga. Faster than Orochimaru had time to react to fully.
But this time… he didn't try to trade blows.
He flowed.
Sidestepped. Ducked. Rolled.
Tsunade's fists missed by inches. He wasn't attacking—but he was learning.
"She's using body weight with rotation. If I can anticipate that pivot—"
WHAM.
He tried to grab her wrist. She flipped him clean over.
Down he went again.
"Third time today," he muttered from the dirt.
But he was smiling.
"I see the path now. I need strength—not to win… but to survive the path I'm choosing."
The trio sat on a bench after class. Orochimaru was lightly bruised but still composed.
"You okay, snake boy?" Tsunade asked, sipping water.
"I've decided I'll be training my taijutsu every day from now on," he said.
"Look at you! Finally embracing your inner meathead," Jiraiya grinned.
"Not quite," Orochimaru replied. "I'm simply ensuring my soul's container doesn't collapse during ascension."
"…That was the most Orochimaru thing you could've said," Tsunade mumbled.
"But hey," Jiraiya said. "You lasted longer than last time."
"I analyze, adapt, and improve," Orochimaru said with a calm smile. "Unlike you, who performs controlled suicides for attention."
"I call it entertainment," Jiraiya grinned.
Tsunade leaned back. "Well, whatever. Hey Orochimaru if you want help, you can ask me."
"Me too me too" Jiraiya said cheerfully.
Orochimaru looked at his bruised palms, then at his two chaotic companions, a small but grateful smile form on his face.
"Thank you guys."