Work Text:
Prompt: Aries: An emperor decked in robes made from spiders silk, attendants watching silently as the room fills with pipe smoke. The rain outside the palace grows louder, he is deep in thought.
Prompt source: https://normal-horoscopes.tumblr.com/post/181747177221/the-royal-signs
Sarutobi is an old man, cursed with the inability to lie to himself. Cursed with ambition beyond his heart’s capabilities. A soft man taught by a hard one. He looks out of the window of his office and thinks.
He is one of the first children that grew up in the newly formed Konoha. Teams weren’t as fixed then as they are now, and he was lucky enough to end up as a student of Tobirama, him and the gaggle of children born around that time.
All too soon they were sent to war where Konoha lost two of her Hokage and the man that was in all the ways that matter his father. He became cold then, and allowed his rage to fester, working for decades to make the other villages learn the price of Konoha’s anger.
Afterward, when he bought his vengeance with the death of half of his shinobi force, he watches the gleaming ruins of their sister village and swears to step away from that path. Promises his broken heart this will not happen again. He is older, he is wiser. The weight of his guilt is just about to snap him in half, and his face is lined with it, far beyond his years. What’s done is done, and he cannot change it. But the future is bright, he consoles his bleeding heart desperately. He will be better.
And yet. And yet.
His students are a miracle of brilliance and infuriating obstinance. He knows he shouldn’t have favorites, and truly, he loves all of them like he never hoped to love someone. If he is honest with himself, he doubts he would love his future offspring half as much as he loves these children of his heart. He doesn’t have favorites, he scolds himself.
And yet.
The little pale genius orphan looks at him with absolute trust, hidden behind sly smiles and false bravado masquerading as arrogance. He doesn’t have favorites, but if he did, Orochimaru would be the one he’d pick. Jiraiya and Tsunade are wonderful, bright, brash children, but they don’t need him, except as a teacher. They’re popular, outgoing, confident in their place in the world.
Orochimaru, on the other hand, hangs on his every word, sitting by him for hours as he weaves lessons together with stories about his life, his team, his wonderful Sensei. Some of his overwhelming adoration for Tobirama must show because Orochimaru starts idolizing the second Hokage, curious about every detail that Sarutobi could dredge from his memory. He sees Tobirama in the solemn-eyed child, in his scientific approach to the world, the way he systematically, single-mindedly attacks a problem until there was nothing left that he didn’t understand. He loves him all the more for it.
In the beginning, he invites his other two students for these lessons without fail, but Jiraiya has little interest in sitting still and learning about history, and Tsunade finds the topic too painful to truly enjoy. She would listen for a short while and excuse herself not long after, the stories of an uncle she would never get to know too painful, and the weight of the legacy of the last Senju threatening to overwhelm her. Soon enough, it’s only Orochimaru and Sarutobi, and Sarutobi can’t bring himself to mind.
And yet. And yet. Orochimaru is not Tobirama. He is.. inhuman in a way Tobirama never was. He knows about the Orochi clan, and the pact they made with their Summoning animals. He shouldn't fault Orochimaru for his coldness when he doesn’t begrudge the Inuzuka their wildness, but he can’t help but try to mold the boy into something more… personable. Approachable. Into someone he can leave the Hokage hat to.
He tries to be subtle about his ambition for his beloved student, but his students still find out somehow. For a short while, he watches Jiraiya and Tsunade like a hawk for any sign of jealousy, but there is nothing. Tsunade is still the epitome of a gruff healer, inhaling every bit of medical knowledge, determined to live up to and surpass the heritage of her famous family. Jiraiya’s smiles still outshine the sun, and he is currently all but living in Mount Myoboku, browbeating the Toads into accepting him as a summoner.
Orochimaru soaks in every bit of knowledge he offers, mastering every technique Sarutobi sets before him. His genius shines like a beacon, and Sarutobi can’t help but be proud of him. He masters everything, but his other-ness seems to grow as well. Sarutobi knows the boy is isolated in the village. The villagers are frightened of the serpentine features and his formidable reputation. The shinobi are wary as well, too intimidated by his intelligence to try to look behind the arrogant facade and see the lonely, caring young man Sarutobi knows him to be. His obvious favor with the Hokage doesn’t help, and Sarutobi thinks it might be best for Orochimaru to expand his circle of friends.
He doesn’t push him away, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. But he carefully distances himself, calls on him less, telling himself the boy needs a chance to grow into himself without the shadow of his sensei looming over his shoulder.
He teaches him less, but can’t help but encourage him to be more personable, less unapproachable. For a while, it appears to be working. Orochimaru’s confidence seems to grow, and the hurt glint in his eyes that appeared when the fear Konoha seems to have for him couldn’t be ignored, all but disappears. He seeks out his old teacher less, and Sarutobi tells himself that it’s for the best. All young men need their independence after all, and Orochimaru seems to be growing into himself beautifully.
There is the occasional moment of worry, moments when he is uncertain about the approach he took, but then he sees the close-knit bond his students share, and he calms. Their regard is clear, in the way Tsunade fusses over her two teammates, the tomoe earrings that were a gift from Jiraiya from one of his travels that Orochimaru can’t be seen without, the patient way Orochimaru lets Nawaki sit on his shoulders and chew on his hair while they're piled together in the Sarutobi clan lands. The last of his worries for his precious student disappears when he spots the hidden admiring looks Orochimaru keeps sending the Hatake Clan Head. Sakumo is the best of them, and Sarutobi couldn’t be more pleased about his student’s choice.
For a while, everything is idyllic, and then War happens, and it’s beyond Sarutobi’s power to stop. In a few short years, he loses one Student to grief, one to three unknown orphans in Ame, and is left with a traumatized, grieving Snake summoner. He knows being trapped in the village that fears him, that drove his partner to suicide in their misguided anger isn’t good for Orochimaru, but he cannot spare him. The village is weakened by the war, and if he cannot have all three Sanin here, he will take the one with the most fearsome reputation.
He tries to provide support, but Orochimaru throws himself into his work with the desperation of a drowning man, and Sarutobi can’t bring himself to fault his coping mechanism. He would help him in his work himself, but the village is in shambles and Sarutobi’s work threatens to overwhelm him. The answer comes in the way of his teammate. He and Danzou may not have always seen eye to eye, but he trusts him with his life and knows that he will take good care of his beloved student. After all, Orochimaru modeled himself by the Second Hokage, and Danzou is all but fanatical about Tobirama.
He is swept away by the avalanche of work, and when he surfaces for air, Orochimaru seems to have healed from the broken state the war left him in. He is quieter, colder, to be sure, but such trauma is bound to leave scars, and Danzou assures him the man is excelling.
Jiraiya has breezed in nonchalantly sometime before and stayed just long enough to snag an up-and-coming genius fresh from the academy as his apprentice. The pair is now traipsing through the Elemental Nations, and by all accounts seem to be hale and healthy. He is saddened about the strained relationship between his two male students but doesn’t know how he would go about fixing it. Mainly because Jiraiya seems to legitimately not even be aware that there is a strain, behaving like nothing changed between them in the few times he stopped for long enough to spend some time with the snake summoner.
He is an old, tired, flawed man, to be sure. He drove the village he was sworn to protect into war because he couldn’t let go of his grudges. Tsunade is lost to him, and Jiraiya doesn’t wear the Konoha hita-ite, having replaced it with the symbol of Mount Myoboku.
He closes his eyes and feels for Orochimaru’s chakra. He pinpoints him quickly, in the first place he looked - the underground labs Danzou constructed for him a few years back. Danzou’s signature is close by, and Sarutobi smiles.
At least he did one thing right.