As Konoha's returning team approached the border of the Land of Fire, they passed by a merchant caravan heading in the opposite direction. It was a rare sight in these turbulent times, and Akira's eyes were immediately drawn to it.
War had ravaged the ninja world for as long as Akira could remember. He had only known the silence between battles, the grim determination in every mission, and the cold steel resolve of those who fought for their villages. Peace was a concept that existed only in the memories of older shinobi. Yet here, before his eyes, was something different. Something hopeful.
A simple merchant caravan, the kind that would have been common before the wars, was moving boldly through the contested lands. It brought with it the scent of spices, the clatter of wheels, and the chatter of merchants who still believed in trade over war.
Orochimaru noticed the distraction in his young disciple's gaze and turned his attention toward the caravan. With a quiet smirk, he remarked, "That should be a caravan from the Land of Rivers. Those traders are remarkably well-informed. The Land of Fire and the Land of Wind only just ceased hostilities, and they're already trying to reestablish trade routes."
Though impressed by their courage, Orochimaru quickly dismissed the matter. His thoughts returned to the technique Akira had demonstrated moments ago—a spiraling sphere of chakra that stirred something familiar within him. He meant to ask about it, but he noticed Akira's eyes still fixed on the retreating caravan, and something about his expression made him pause.
"You've never seen a caravan before, have you, Akira?" Orochimaru asked with a trace of teasing in his tone. "The world you were born into has known nothing but war. But once this conflict is over, scenes like that will be common again."
Akira snapped back to reality, offering a sheepish smile. "You're right, sensei. It was just... different."
In truth, it wasn't the caravan that had captivated him. Amid the travelers, he had spotted a familiar face—one buried deep in the recesses of his past life memories. It was a man named He Yan, a character from a movie version of the world, barely recalled but not forgotten.
He Yan belonged to a once-mighty empire that had risen and fallen long before the current era. That civilization had discovered a powerful, luminous mineral known as the Gelel Stone. Infused with energy that mimicked chakra, it had enabled even ordinary people to wield incredible power. But as always, power had drawn greed, and the empire had crumbled under both internal corruption and external envy.
Akira's heart beat faster. The Gelel Stone—could it be the solution to his most recent dilemma?
He had long been pondering how to provide his human puppet clones with a stable source of chakra. Controlling one puppet clone was already draining, and expanding his army seemed impossible without a new energy source. But if he could acquire some Gelel Stones and embed them into his puppets, perhaps they could become autonomous warriors.
He remembered that He Yan might know the location of the original Gelel vein. And conveniently, his puppet clone—rebuilt and hidden in the Land of Rivers—was perfectly positioned to track He Yan and his caravan.
At the border, Puppet Sasori awakened once more, the chakra stored in his Yin Seal flaring to life. He ejected a stream of Iron Sand, forming wings that carried him high into the air, moving swiftly in pursuit of the caravan.
Back in the present, Orochimaru finally voiced the question he'd been holding back. "That technique you used earlier... what was it called? It seemed oddly familiar."
Akira turned to face his master, offering a composed response even as he focused on guiding his puppet clone from afar. "It's called Rasengan. It's a non-elemental ninjutsu I developed myself."
Orochimaru raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. And what made you think of creating such a technique? You already know a considerable number of jutsu."
"I needed something that could be used instantly—without hand seals. Something that pairs well with the Flying Thunder God Technique," Akira explained. "I'm becoming more proficient with it. Soon, I should be able to use it in real combat. But to make the most of it, I needed a technique that hits hard the moment I appear behind an enemy. Rasengan fits that role perfectly."
Orochimaru's curiosity deepened. He leaned closer, intrigued. "What inspired you to believe that raw chakra, when compressed, could generate that level of destructive power? And how did you manage to compress and stabilize it?"
Akira smiled subtly. "Remember that monster from the Sand Village? The one who unleashed that dark chakra sphere?"
Orochimaru nodded slowly. "The Tailed Beast Ball. Only creatures like Shukaku can use it."
"Exactly," Akira said. "Watching that attack, I realized something. It wasn't elemental. It was pure chakra—compressed, dense, and explosive. Rasengan is a much smaller version of that idea."
Orochimaru's lips curled in approval. "Ingenious. To distill a Tailed Beast's ultimate technique into something a human can wield... you've surpassed even my expectations."
Akira looked away, hiding the flicker of ambition in his eyes. The Rasengan was only the beginning. If the Gelel Stone proved usable, if his puppets could wield chakra-like energy independently, and if he could master the Flying Thunder God Technique fully, then the world would soon witness a power it had never imagined.
And yet, amid the schemes and experiments, part of Akira longed for something simpler. A time when caravans roamed freely, not under the shadow of war. A world where power wasn't the only currency that mattered.
But for now, he had work to do.
"Let's move, sensei," Akira said calmly. "We have a village to return to—and a future to shape."
"Oh? Did you discover something from the Tailed Beast Ball? How did you do it?" Orochimaru's voice was filled with genuine surprise, a rare crack in his usually calm and collected demeanor.
Since ancient times, many shinobi had coveted the terrifying power of the Tailed Beasts. Entire clans and nations had risen and fallen chasing that power, dissecting the mysteries behind the Tailed Beasts' devastating techniques. And among all of their abilities, the Tailed Beast Ball stood alone as their most iconic and fearsome weapon. Yet, no one had truly unraveled the secret behind its formation. Until now.
Akira gave a modest smile, though his eyes glinted with pride. He tapped the temple beside his eyes lightly. "Of course, it was thanks to my Sharingan. When that sand monster from Sunagakure, Shukaku, unleashed that final attack, I observed it carefully with my Sharingan. I could see the chakra gathering... condensing in a very particular way. It was raw, untamed, but immensely powerful."
Orochimaru leaned in slightly, intrigued.
"I tried replicating it. At first, I just attempted to condense a large amount of chakra into my palm. But it was too unstable. The more chakra I poured in, the more it unraveled. It would collapse under its own pressure or leak out too quickly. If I reduced the chakra, it simply wasn't powerful enough to be worth using."
He sighed in mock frustration. "I even started thinking maybe humans just aren't capable of replicating that kind of move. Maybe it's a privilege of being a Tailed Beast — a creature born of chakra."
Orochimaru nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. The Tailed Beasts are chakra entities. Their very essence is chakra, so to them, molding it is as natural as moving a limb. It's not about technique for them. It's instinct. You're not wrong to say it's a matter of racial talent."
Akira chuckled. "Exactly what I thought too. But then... during a taijutsu session, I remembered something."
He paused, a more nostalgic expression flickering across his face. "Teacher Chen once taught me the Konoha Dragon God technique. Remember that one, where you use rapid, high-speed kicks to generate a spiraling tornado of air? The principle is rotation and compression. That stuck with me."
He extended his hand, chakra beginning to hum faintly around it as he mimicked the Rasengan's formation. "So I applied the same concept to my chakra. I began rotating it. And suddenly, everything changed. The rotation stabilized the chakra. It no longer needed a rigid shape. The spinning energy held itself together, and I could inject more and more chakra without it falling apart."
Orochimaru's snake-like eyes widened just a fraction. He was genuinely impressed. The implications of what Akira had done were staggering. A child, barely seven, had deciphered the essence of a Tailed Beast's move and developed an entirely new technique around it.
Of course, Akira had just described the Rasengan — a technique Orochimaru had only heard about in passing.
It finally clicked.
Orochimaru recalled Jiraiya once mentioning that his student, Minato Namikaze, had been working on a similar technique. Inspired by the Tailed Beast Ball, Minato aimed to create a seal-less, high-damage attack to pair with his Flying Thunder God Technique. But that was still in development.
Yet here stood Akira, a child, not only having developed the same idea but having already succeeded.
"Are you... familiar with Jiraiya's student, Minato?" Orochimaru asked, feigning casual curiosity.
Akira blinked. "Not really. I only met Senior Minato once, during our mission to find Lady Tsunade. He did teach me a bit about the Flying Thunder God Technique, but we aren't close. Why?"
"Hmm, no reason," Orochimaru murmured. "Jiraiya mentioned once that his student was working on a similar ninjutsu, also inspired by the Tailed Beast Ball. I thought perhaps you two had shared notes."
Akira put on an act of curiosity. "Oh? Did he ever finish it?"
Orochimaru shook his head. "No. Last I heard, he was still developing it. You... you're the first to complete it."
Akira smiled politely, but inside, he already knew Minato hadn't completed it yet. In the original timeline, Jiraiya was the one who passed down the Rasengan to Naruto, and the name itself was shockingly simple. Not something the flashy Minato would have come up with himself.
Orochimaru fell silent for a few moments. Something deep and personal shifted within him. Pride, perhaps, mixed with something darker. Jealousy.
It was true. For years, Orochimaru had considered himself the most talented ninja of his generation. Even among the Legendary Sannin, he was always a step ahead. Jiraiya had always lagged behind, and while Tsunade was brilliant in her own right, her talents leaned toward medicine and brute force.
But then Minato appeared.
Minato, the student of Jiraiya, began catching up. In speed, in technique, in fame. He became a war hero practically overnight. It was a blow to Orochimaru's ego, but he tolerated it. After all, Minato wasn't his own student.
Now, here was Akira. Orochimaru's own student. And in just a month, Akira had succeeded where Minato had not. A seven-year-old had surpassed a genius adult.
And unlike Minato, Akira had the Sharingan.
That thought simmered in Orochimaru's mind. The Sharingan — the legendary dojutsu of the Uchiha clan, capable of deciphering movements, seeing chakra, copying techniques. Orochimaru had never envied bloodline limits before. He prided himself on surpassing such innate gifts through pure skill and intellect.
But now...
Now he couldn't stop staring at those eyes. The way the tomoe spun in Akira's Sharingan. The clarity with which they saw ninjutsu.
Akira noticed it. Orochimaru's intense gaze. It wasn't the usual analytical look he gave when dissecting techniques. It was deeper. Darker.
Something primal.
"Sensei?" Akira asked, his tone cautious.
Orochimaru blinked and quickly looked away, composing himself. "Hmm? Oh, it's nothing. Just... thinking about your Sharingan. It's quite the gift."
Akira felt a twinge of unease. Did I just awaken something dangerous in him?
He kept a calm expression, but deep down, a subtle alarm bell had begun to ring.
Orochimaru... you better not be thinking of stealing these eyes.