"Ah… AAAAAAH——!!!"
An indescribable collapse and despair burst from Kabuto's throat in a scream that no longer sounded human.
At that moment, his inner world was completely shattered by those three words—Who are you?—crushed and reduced to boundless darkness and chaos.
Across the shinobi world, after the initial stunned silence and shock at the tragedy, a massive wave of confusion surged forth.
"What just happened?!"
"How could Yakushi Nono not recognize Kabuto?!"
"They were only separated for a few years, right? Did he really change that much?"
"Even if it's been years—what about his voice? His presence? They lived together for so long! How could she not know him?"
"And look at Kabuto—he clearly didn't expect it to be her either! That means Danzo gave them both false mission intel. They were set up!"
"That old bastard didn't just make them kill each other—he tampered with her perception too? That's beyond cruel!"
Voices rose everywhere.
Something was terribly wrong.
Nono's dying question—Who are you?—pointed to something even more chilling.
Her cognition itself may have been manipulated.
"That's horrifying…"
"This isn't just brutality. It's monstrous."
"Danzo must die!"
The anger of the shinobi world escalated yet again, fueled by the terrifying implications.
The condemnation of Danzo reached an unprecedented peak.
Kabuto remained locked on the screen, his body trembling violently. The red rage in his eyes gradually faded into something hollow—something fractured and unhinged.
"Yes… it was fake… we were both deceived…"
"Danzo… Root… Konoha…"
His teeth ground together audibly. Hatred surged like a tidal wave, threatening to swallow him whole.
He had believed he had buried it.
Believed he had forgotten.
But now he understood—
He never could.
Orochimaru watched Kabuto's condition in silence. In truth, he had long known the full story.
Karin frowned at the screen, then at the dangerously quiet Kabuto beside her.
"This is bad… Feels like he's about to break," she muttered.
On the Heavenly Screen, Kabuto collapsed by a desolate riverside, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Who am I?"
"Why didn't Director recognize me?"
Those cries were not merely grief—they were a total collapse of identity. A denial of his very existence.
Just as his soul seemed ready to drift into complete darkness—
A hoarse voice, smooth and serpentine, slithered into the silence behind him.
"Because… she never truly saw what you became."
Kabuto spun around.
Through tear-blurred vision, he saw pale skin and golden, snake-like eyes.
Orochimaru.
On the screen, Orochimaru calmly peeled back another layer of Danzo's vicious scheme, his tone almost educational.
"The photographs Danzo gave Nono as 'proof' that you were safe… were never of you."
"He simply selected Root children of similar age and hair color, took pictures of them, and periodically delivered them to her—claiming that was you, carrying out missions."
"In her perception, 'Yakushi Kabuto' remained a child frozen in time—a vague image she was meant to protect."
"She never knew your true appearance. Your voice. Your presence."
The explanation was colder than any genjutsu. More direct than any forbidden technique.
And infinitely more nauseating.
Danzo had not only denied them reunion—
He had severed their final visual and cognitive connection with a fabricated identity.
"Fake photos… a fake 'me'…" Kabuto muttered.
The chaos in his eyes deepened into something worse—
A hollow void, as though even his sense of self had been erased.
Then—
Orochimaru extended his hand.
Not with false sympathy.
But with his twisted philosophy about "truth," "identity," and "pursuing one's essence."
He targeted Kabuto's fractured sense of self with surgical precision, filling the void with warped meaning.
He spoke at length—words that sounded abstract, almost nonsensical to outsiders.
But to Kabuto, drowning in doubt—
They were driftwood.
A reason.
A direction.
A replacement identity.
Light flickered again in Kabuto's unfocused eyes.
But it was not warmth.
It was a cold resolve—one that pointed toward deeper darkness.
At last, the Heavenly Screen froze on a final image—
Kabuto wiping away his tears.
His gaze still empty.
Slowly rising to his feet.
And walking behind Orochimaru into the night.
Silence fell across the shinobi world.
After processing the shocking detail of the photo substitution, people seemed collectively stunned.
A few seconds of absolute quiet.
Then—
"Wait a second… why is it Orochimaru again?!"
"Sasuke—trained by him. Karin—recruited by him. Now Kabuto too?!"
"What is he, a professional 'collector' of Konoha's tragic problem children?!"
"So Konoha manufactures trauma and future villains, and Orochimaru handles after-sales pickup and onboarding? Is this some kind of industrial supply chain?!"
"If there were an award for 'Best at Recruiting Emotionally Broken Teenagers,' Orochimaru would win lifetime achievement!"
"This can't be coincidence anymore. Does Orochimaru have scouts in Konoha monitoring which kids are about to have mental breakdowns so he can show up with a business card?!"
The commentary was absurd—almost comedic in tone.
Orochimaru's image, through repeated Heavenly Screen revelations, had shifted from "terrifying rogue ninja" and "forbidden jutsu fanatic"—
To something bizarrely specific:
The shinobi world's number-one specialist in adopting and exploiting psychologically damaged youths.
His motives were anything but pure.
Yet he appeared at every critical turning point.
That sheer consistency made it feel almost ridiculous.
Konohagakure – Hokage's Office
Tsunade stared at the image of Kabuto walking behind Orochimaru—finding a "new direction," even if that direction clearly led into a pit.
She thought of Karin, lured away.
Of Sasuke, drawn into darkness.
Her mouth opened slightly—
But in the end, only a long sigh escaped her lips.
Exhausted.
Exasperated.
Almost absurdly resigned.
And then—
She fell silent.
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