AN: I do not own Naruto, and I make nothing except allowance from doing chores. I'm broke. Seriously. This is merely for fun, no profit involved.

Warnings: Possible, if not probable, OOCness ahead. Also, this is an AU, so please keep that in mind. Not everything will be Original Naruto-verse. In fact, a bunch of stuff will most likely end up warped minutely. Or majorly. Either way.

White. Everything was white.

Why was it white?

He stared up at nothingness in blank bemusement.

Who was he? Where was he?


Who was Orochimaru? Why did that name sound so familiar?

Orochimaru. Remember.

And he did.

In sickening clarity, he recalled every single detail of his life. Everything, from the time he spent in his mother's womb to the time of his death. Thoughts, emotions, sights, sounds, scents, everything assaulting him all at once, gone so fast he could barely grasp it but seemingly lasting a thousand years. Every single last detail, every single harmful, monstrous act, every single person affected by it, every single drop of blood on his hands.

And after it was finished, when he was floating there, gasping for air he didn't need because he was dead, dead, dead and he'd never be able to fix any of it, he had one clear thought.

What have I done? What have I done?

What kind of sick monster was he, to have done those things to innocent men and women? To infants. To his village?

It's not your fault, Orochimaru.

The voice was soothing, but it was little comfort to the agony lancing through his chest, crushing like a vise around his heart.

After your parents died, you had no way to deal with the grief, no way of understanding how to move on or deal with the loss of the precious people in your life. You suppressed your sanity and humanity subconsciously, seeking a way that you would never have to feel loss again. You became a dark, twisted shadow of yourself. What you have just witnessed, all the horrible deeds you committed, that wasn't you. The real Orochimaru is the one I see before me now, the one who feels regret, shame, and self-loathing for himself. The past Orochimaru would have felt none of this.

...Who are you?

You know me as Kami.

Orochimaru flinched. How could Kami forgive him for what he'd done?

You show true remorse, Orochimaru. How can I not forgive that?


I'm giving you another chance.

...What...does that mean?

Just rest, Orochimaru. When you wake up, it'll be the beginning again.

And everything went black.

AN: Utterly horrible, I know. But I might go back later and make some major revisions...Any suggestions for how to fix the prologue?