OROCHIMARU JOURNEY from NARUTO MULTIVERSE to OMNIVERSE with GACHA

A man, two women, and a child sat quietly around the dining table, steam rising gently from their plates. The light filtering in from the paper screen windows gave the entire room a serene, lived-in warmth.

Orochimaru took another bite, chewing slowly. His mood, already decent, improved further with each mouthful. The food wasn't fancy—rice, miso, lightly grilled vegetables with some meat—but it had depth. A kind of care that couldn't be faked.

In the world he came from, even when he wasn't experimenting in cold, sterile labs, even when he was a respected ninja of the Leaf, good food had been rare. He could get meals prepared by elite chefs. He could afford anything. But they always felt distant.

This was different.

He glanced sideways toward Saeko, who quietly reached across the table to refill the girl's bowl with more rice.

"Your cooking is good," he said simply before returning to his meal.

The sudden praise caught Saeko off-guard. She blinked, chopsticks frozen in mid-air for a second before she gave a small bow of her head. "Thank you."

Her voice was calm, but there was a quiet flutter in her chest. From her perspective, the meal had been nothing special. She wasn't trying to impress. Still, the compliment meant more than she'd expected.

She had spent a lot of time honing herself, not just in swordsmanship but in every aspect of being a "proper" woman. Cooking, cleaning, handling children, managing a household—skills that some considered mundane, but she had treated with the same intensity she gave to combat. A reflection of her ideal. Her control.

She didn't just want to be deadly.

She wanted to be complete.

And here, for once, someone actually noticed.

Across the table, Veramoth quietly sipped her soup. Her eyes occasionally flicked between the people seated, but most often, they lingered on Orochimaru.

She didn't say a word, but her thoughts were in chaos.

She had already learned everything she could about him—from Saeko's explanations, his sudden arrival, and the details of his so-called past. It all sounded like nonsense. Her logical mind insisted this man was lying, or perhaps delusional.

But deep down, she couldn't deny what she had seen.

The power. The knowledge. The complete indifference to death.

And above all, that unsettling sense of displacement, like he didn't truly belong to this world.

With her limited understanding of the broader universe, it wasn't impossible to imagine. Maybe Orochimaru really was from another world.

"So," Orochimaru spoke calmly, setting his chopsticks down. "Now that you know about me, why don't you share something about yourself?"

His words weren't forceful, but they carried weight. Enough to snap Veramoth from her spiraling thoughts.

She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention.

Of course it was directed at her.

Veramoth set down her soup bowl with a quiet clink. She took a slow, steadying breath before speaking.

"I'm part of an organisation."

Orochimaru's gaze didn't waver. "What kind?"

She hesitated, eyes flicking to Saeko briefly, who continued eating without interruption.

"A criminal syndicate," Veramoth said finally, her voice calm but heavy.

The air seemed to still for a moment.

Orochimaru's eyes narrowed, not in disapproval, but curiosity. "And what does this syndicate of yours deal in? Weapons? People? Information?"

Veramoth didn't avert her gaze.

"All of the above. We operate in the shadows. Control markets. Manipulate governments. Eliminate threats. Kidnapping. Killing."

Orochimaru leaned back slightly, his fingers steepled under his chin, eyes narrowing with predatory interest.

"What about human experiments?" he asked softly. "For gaining certain characteristics?"

His tone was casual, but his eyes—cold and sharp—seemed to cut through her, daring her to lie.

Veramoth froze.

Then she gulped.

"Yes."

The word slipped out like poison she'd held in too long.

Saeko's hand paused midway to her mouth, her chopsticks trembling slightly. She turned slowly toward Veramoth, eyes wide in disbelief.

But Orochimaru remained still. Calm. As if he'd already known.

"Did you participate in some of these experiments yourself?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper, yet holding weight.

Veramoth gave a stiff nod.

"Yes. I was part of a program. Years ago."

Orochimaru's smile was faint, unreadable.

"And what did they do to you?"

Veramoth inhaled slowly. Her fingers clenched under the table.

"Modified genes. I age slowly."

Orochimaru's eyes gleamed with silent understanding. He gave a slight nod, almost as if confirming a theory he'd already formed.

"Of course," he murmured. "That would explain a lot."

In his mind, puzzle pieces clicked into place. The inconsistencies in her background, the way she carried herself. He'd seen enough in his previous life—characters like Shinichi Kudo and Ai Haibara—de-aged by some experimental drug. So this wasn't unexpected. If anything, it was validating.

Then his eyes slowly turned to the youngest one in the room.

The girl flinched.

For a second—just a second—her face betrayed something. Shock. Panic.

But it vanished quickly.

Orochimaru's voice was a low whisper, but it cut through the air like a scalpel.

"Why don't you share something too?"

The girl stiffened. Veramoth's head turned slightly. So did Saeko's.

"You reacted quite well when she confessed, and showed remarkable control for someone your age." He tilted his head, lips curling in vague amusement. "Your parents are dead, yet there were no tears. No shaking. Your breathing didn't even change."

He leaned forward slightly, not threatening—just intensely present.

"And your movements, measured and cautious. Not the curiosity of a child, but the instincts of someone trained to control."

His gaze sharpened.

"And now, hearing that she's been aged slowly, experimented on… your eyes didn't widen."

A beat of silence passed before he added, voice barely above a murmur,

"Tell me. Who are you? Were you part of an experiment too? And like her, is your age halted, or perhaps even reversed?"

The child stayed silent for several seconds.

Then finally, she spoke in a quiet, steady voice.

"Shiho Miyano."

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