Orochimaru was now three months old, and he only had one thought.
'Being a baby fucking sucked.'
That was the only way Takeshi could describe the mind-numbing frustration of being trapped in a body that couldn't even hold its own head up properly. Every day was an exercise in patience as he lay in his crib, completely dependent on others for everything—food, cleaning, entertainment, even basic movement from room to room.
'This is torture', he thought as he stared up at the mobile of colorful paper kunai spinning lazily above his crib. 'I know exactly what I want to do, but this stupid body won't cooperate.'
The worst part wasn't even the physical limitations. It was the constant cooing and baby talk from every adult who saw him. His mother—Miyuki, he'd learned from eavesdropping—was the worst offender.
"Who's my precious little snake?" she would say in that high-pitched voice that all adults seemed to think babies enjoyed. She nicknamed him with that moniker in honor of his vertical slit pupils and golden eyes that highly resembled that of a serpent.
"Who's going to grow up big and strong?"
'I'd grow up a lot faster if you'd stop treating me like I'm brain-dead.' Takeshi would think irritably.
But he had to admit, even if only to himself, that she was... nice. Really nice, actually. When he cried in the middle of the night—which happened more often than he'd like, since his baby body seemed to have its own schedule—she would always come quickly, never seeming annoyed or tired.
One particularly difficult night, when his stomach was cramping and he couldn't seem to settle down, she had stayed up for hours just rocking him and humming soft melodies. He'd wanted to stay angry about the whole situation, but something about the rhythm of her heartbeat and the warmth of being held had made him feel... safe.
She had also quickly learned that Takeshi would give signals when he needed to urinate or excrete his waste, like screaming or patting his behind.
'My son is very intelligent. He'll definitely grow up to be an important figure in the world.' She lovingly thought one morning after giving him his daily bath.
He had to admit, this daily routine was starting to grow on him...she was starting to grow on him.
'Whatever', he told himself when he realized he'd actually enjoyed the comfort. 'It's not like I'm getting attached or anything. She's just useful.
...
Two more months passed by and he was now at five months.
Things got a little more interesting when Takeshi gained better control over his neck muscles. Finally, he could turn his head to look around properly, which meant he could start gathering information about his new world.
The house was small but well-maintained, clearly belonging to a middle-class shinobi family. He could see weapon racks mounted on the walls, and there were always scrolls scattered across his father's desk. Kenji—his father—would often sit at that desk in the evenings, writing reports or studying technique manuals while Miyuki prepared dinner.
'They're both active duty', Takeshi observed, watching his parents go through their routines. 'Or at least, Dad is. Mom seems to be taking time off to care for me.'
During the day, while Kenji was on missions, Miyuki would carry Takeshi around the house as she did her daily tasks. She'd talk to him constantly, explaining what she was doing as if he could understand.
"Now we're going to water the plants in the garden," she would say, settling him in a baby carrier on her chest so he could see. "These are tomatoes—your father loves them in his rice. And these are herbs I use for basic medical supplies."
'Medical supplies?'That caught his attention. 'So she really is a medic-nin. But I thought Tsunade was the first?'
"When you're older, I'll teach you about healing," Miyuki continued, gently touching the leaves of what looked like medicinal plants. "It's important to know how to help people, not just how to fight."
Upon hearing these words Takeshi visibly smiled and started to clap his baby hands together signaling his happiness. Miyuki laughed and poked his belly and chalked this up to him just being an easily amused child, but in actuality, Takeshi was thrilled that he now had a sensei to teach him medical ninjutsu.
...
More time flew by in the blink of an eye and he was now six months old.
By now, Takeshi had developed enough motor control to sit up with support and reach for objects. His parents were absolutely thrilled with his "advanced development," though he was careful not to seem too coordinated.
The real breakthrough came when he started experimenting with making sounds. Not just crying or babbling, but trying to form actual words. It was frustrating—his vocal cords and mouth weren't developed enough for complex speech—but he could manage some simple syllables.
"Ma... ma..." he said one morning, looking directly at Miyuki.
She nearly dropped the bottle she was preparing, her eyes going wide with delight.
"Kenji!" she called out excitedly. "Kenji, come here! He said mama!"
His father came running from the other room, still dripping wet from his morning shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.
"What? Really?" Kenji knelt down beside them, his face lighting up with pure joy. "Say it again, little one. Say mama."
"Ma... ma..." Takeshi repeated, and both parents practically melted.
'This is almost too easy,' he thought as they showered him with praise and affection. 'They're so happy about every little thing I do.'
But despite his cynical thoughts, something warm flickered in his chest when he saw how proud they were. Their joy was so genuine, so complete, that it was hard not to feel a little pleased about making them happy.
This however, was just the starting point to their surprise.
The real entertainment began when Takeshi started showing interest in his father's work. Kenji had noticed how intently his son watched whenever he practiced forms in the backyard or cleaned his weapons, and had started including him in these activities.
"You're very observant," Kenji would say, holding Takeshi on his lap while he maintained his kunai. "Most babies your age don't pay attention to anything for more than a few seconds, but you watch everything."
'That's because I actually understand what you're doing, unlike most babies', Takeshi thought, studying the precise movements his father used to sharpen and balance his weapons.
"When you're older, I'll teach you properly," Kenji continued, holding up a kunai so Takeshi could see it clearly. "But for now, you can just watch and learn."
Takeshi reached out with chubby baby hands toward the weapon, making grabbing motions.
"No, no," Kenji said gently, moving the kunai out of reach. "These are dangerous. You have to be much bigger and stronger before you can handle real weapons."
'Just wait', Takeshi thought with anticipation. 'Soon, I will be able to properly use all of these weapons.'
...
Several months later, he had now reached his eight months, and along with that a new milestone.
Crawling.
The moment Takeshi gained enough coordination to move around on his own—even if it was just dragging himself across the floor on his belly at first—a whole new world opened up. He could explore the house, investigate interesting objects, and most importantly, eavesdrop on conversations his parents thought he couldn't hear.
"The signs of a potential war are getting worse," he heard Kenji saying to Miyuki one evening while they thought he was napping in his crib. "We mysteriously lost another squad last week. The Hokage is talking about mobilizing chunin for an indepth investigation."
"You're not going to volunteer, are you?" Miyuki's voice was tight with worry. "Orochimaru needs his father."
"I won't go unless I'm ordered to," Kenji assured her. "But if the situation deteriorates much further..."
'The Second Shinobi World War', Takeshi realized. It's not going to happen for another whole decade yet its already affecting my life right now.'
This was valuable information though. If he could figure out everything that really happened that neither the anime nor manga went into would greatly boost his scheming abilities for the future.
The dire mood immediately died down as their son had drawn all the attention to himself.
Takeshi's first successful crawl from one room to another was apparently such a momentous occasion that Miyuki actually cried with pride.
"He's growing up so fast," she said, wiping her eyes as she watched him navigate from the living room to the kitchen. "It feels like yesterday he was just a tiny newborn."
Takeshi even had to admit himself that the days were starting to blur at a terrifying pace. He couldn't tell Monday to Friday anymore because of the boringly dull life of limited mobility that being a baby granted him.
His father was equally impressed, getting down on hands and knees to demonstrate "proper crawling technique" with exaggerated movements that made Takeshi want to laugh despite himself.
"See? Like this!" Kenji said, crawling in circles around the living room. "Strong arms, keep your head up, don't give up when it gets difficult!"
'I don't need a pep talk', Takeshi thought, but he found himself genuinely amused by his father's antics.
The realization that he was actually enjoying his parents' company—not just tolerating them, but actively looking forward to their interactions—was unsettling. He'd planned to maintain emotional distance, to see them as useful resources rather than real family.
But it was getting harder to think of them that way when they were so obviously devoted to making him happy and helping him grow.
All of this effort to distance himself was because he knew that in the future, they would ultimately leave him to join the afterlife. Unless, he could somehow prevent that.
He started to solemnly contemplate the idea in his tiny crib, as the full moon illuminated his miniature figure.
'...'
A few weeks later, Takeshi had once again surprised his parents with his rapid growth.
Standing came next, and with it a whole new level of mobility and independence. Takeshi could pull himself up using furniture, cruise along walls, and generally cause the kind of chaos that apparently all mobile babies were known for.
His parents baby-proofed the house with military precision, removing anything dangerous from his reach and padding sharp corners. But they also made sure he had plenty of safe things to explore and investigate.
On the outside, they expressed their pride and joy for having such an intelligent and strong son, but inwardly they were secretly worried that his growth rate was too fast and that it might plant a target on his back before he can form his first sentence.
They knew all too well about the village's politics and the higher-up's desire to remain in power, and their resolve to do whatever was necessary to keep it.
As they silently watched their son try to crawl onto furniture and walk on table top counters, they glanced at each other thinking about Orochimaru's need for moving.
"Curiosity is important for a shinobi," Kenji explained to Miyuki as they watched Takeshi systematically empty the lowest cabinet of its contents. "He needs to learn how things work, even if it means more cleaning for us."
'Finally, someone who gets it', Takeshi thought as he examined a wooden bowl with intense concentration.
'I need to gain control over my body as quickly as possible. It was fun going along with the whole baby act but now I need to learn how to take care of myself, especially when it involves bathing and using the toilet.'
...
The sun raised and set, and the Moon hung low, as if it was watching over the beings on Earth. Days passed and those days turned into months. Orochimaru was now eleven months old and his body had begun to show signs of growing with more raven black hair coming from his scalp, and his body as a whole had grown a few centimeters.
Words were coming more easily now, though Takeshi was careful to limit himself to what would be normal for his apparent age. "Mama," "Dada," "more," and "no" made up most of his vocabulary, though he understood everything said around him.
The most interesting development was that he was starting to sense a little bit more chakra inside of his body then when he first reincarnated. He hadn't tried to use it for the backlash could be fatal to his newborn body, and since his otherworldly abilities were now chakra-based he didn't want to take his chance with those either.
'I wonder if this is normal for reincarnation', he mused. 'Or if I'm just a late bloomer in the power department.'
...
Now, the long awaited time had finally come and he reached the achievement of living his first year in the Narutoverse.
His first birthday party was bigger than Takeshi had expected. The house filled with his parents' colleagues and friends, all eager to meet the "remarkable baby" they'd heard so much about.
"He's so alert," one plump woman commented, holding him while he studied her face with obvious interest. "It's like he's analyzing everything."
"And those eyes," another added. "They're so unusual. Why are they golden and vertical if neither of your eyes look like that Kenji?."
Miyuki and Kenji just awkwardly looked at one another and shrugged at this question. Kenji had long came to terms with the fact Orochimaru's appearance could just be a recessive gene in Miyuki's family that just now showed itself and that she had stayed faithful throughout their marriage.
'If you only knew what these eyes are going to be capable of eventually', Takeshi thought, though he made appropriate baby noises and reactions for his audience.
The adults talked freely around him, assuming he couldn't understand their conversations about Konoha's latest scandals, the economy, political concerns, and tensions between the nations. The information was invaluable, giving him a clear picture of the current situation in the Land Of Fire.
"Hello Miyuki - Kenji, I think its time we introduce Tsunade to little Orochimaru."
'Tsunade...?'
A nice and warm voice came from behind Takeshi and he could've sworn he heard that voice from somewhere in the show, but couldn't pinpoint who it belonged to.
He then turned his body and his mouth fell open to the figure that greeted him. The woman had long, bright-red hair and large, black pupilless eyes. Her hair was arranged in buns with hair pins in them and three clips in the front. She also wore a dark shade of red lipstick and had a rhombus marking on her forehead.
'This is Mito Uzumaki!! One of the strongest people in the village and Hashirama's husband!' He excitingly thought, however as excited he was he was equally as nervous as this woman was one of the most hot-tempered girls in the entire show.
His gaze then dropped downwards to Mito's arms and in them was a small baby who seemed the same size as himself with blonde hair and tanner skin. This little baby girl, he assumed - was Tsunade Senju.
The granddaughter of the strongest pure-blooded Uzumaki and the first Hokage, the wood-style jutsu master and the man nicknamed the God Of Shinobi! She was one of the legendary Sannin, and the woman who revolutionized medical ninjutsu and even went up against the Madara Uchiha!