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Part One
His entire body was leaden, weighed down with so much impossible pressure that his first thought was, I'm drugged. That notion was quickly dispelled when he barely moved his right index finger and pain lanced up his entire arm, burning a path to his shoulder. Sucking in a quick breath, Yakushi Kabuto quickly ceased all movement and forced his breathing to even, body and mind both stilling as he analyzed his environment with his eyes closed, but his other senses wide open.
The smell was fresh, as though he were far, far away from any semblance to civilization. A scratchy fabric was his only reprieve from a cold, unforgiving surface, though it was not uniform or level. His weary, pain-filled mind grasped onto an odd trickling noise, and he identified it as running water.
Very gingerly he parted his lips and pushed his tongue out, running it along the cracked surface of his lips. His mouth had never been so dry. It did not take any large amount of intelligence for Kabuto to realize that he was lying prone in unfamiliar territory, and likely with no allies in sight.
He frowned, eyebrows drawing together faintly, though even that seemed an effort. Something was swimming along the edge of his consciousness, some tremendous event that he knew he should be able to recall, one that would bring his current situation into sharp relief.
The sound of footfalls in the distance permeated the murkiness of his mind and he instantly relaxed his muscles, forcing the tension from his body, controlling his heartbeat and breathing to give the allusion of unconsciousness. It wouldn't do to let whomever approached him know that he had awakened. God only knew what would happen in such a case.
The pattern of steps indicated that the person who approached him was a woman, and he discreetly turned his neck, angling his head slightly toward where the sound was coming from. If he played his cards correctly, he would be able to open his eyes a fraction and catch a glimpse of the woman. It wouldn't be until she was otherwise occupied near him, however. He would not risk her realizing that he was awake to sate his own curiosity.
A slight rustling alerted him to a door flap of sorts, and the shuffling that followed indicated that she was securing it against an outside force. The person who held him captive had chosen an out-of-the-way place for their headquarters, but they seemed to be tending it well.
An earthy, unsophisticated scent drifted down to him, and though there were no signature female markings, this too confirmed his earlier thoughts. There was a softness about her presence that he had never encountered in a man, and if he was wrong, then Kabuto was worse off than he had initally thought..
Gentle hands pressed to his forehead and then down his body in a systematic check of his vital signs, and as soon as the tips of roughened fingers began to probe his chest, he realized that he was shirtless.
That was interesting. The only explanation his mind could supply was an injury, and as soon as he thought it, pain exploded along his right ribcage.
Body jerking, his breath came out in a low hiss before he could cut it off, and instantly the hands were retracted.
Wounds. Where had he gotten wounds? Why couldn't he remember?
Silence reigned for seconds that stretched into eternities as Kabuto floundered in his own thoughts. It was all just there, right past his grip, why couldn't he reach it
"Kabuto-san. You're awake."
His eyes opened reflexively, and much to his own dismay, he could make out a blurry shape above him, mostly red, but topped with pink. He knew that voice, though it had been years since he'd heard it. Somehow...
As her hazy image abruptly came into focus, a name surfaced. Haruno Sakura. Konoha genin. Comrade to Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Hatake Kakashi. She had never been much until the current Hokage had taken her in; now, she was revered as the next Tsunade herself, and known far and wide for her medical prowess.
She was also his enemy.
His muscles screamed in protest as he shoved off the ground, particularly along his right side, but Kabuto had swallowed pain before and he would do it again. The human body could survive amazing things if only you detached your mind from them.
He wasn't able to make it to a full sitting position, however, as Sakura's hands pressed to his shoulders before he even managed to sit up completely. When her fingers gripped his shoulder he almost cried out, and he did open his eyes fully, jaw slackening when pain ripped through his body.
"Lie still! You can't move, Kabuto-san!" Her tone was harsh and biting, but it barely penetrated the roaring in his ears. He fell limply backward, saved only by her tucking one arm around his good side, and he closed his eyes, head lolling back.
Her voice sounded distant as she spoke rapidly, lowering him once more. "Your injuries are too severe for this. Please relax. I don't want to have to immobilize you."
Immobilize him? His wounds, whatever they were, had already managed that.
Kabuto was barely aware of her moving around him, and he found that he didn't care, despite the fact that she could easily kill him if she so chose. From his current vantage point, that didn't seem so bad a thing. At least he wouldn't be suffering from this ache all over his body.
Something cold splashed across his mouth, and he opened his eyes slightly, watching her with an apathetic sort of regard as she tilted his head, forced his lips apart, and began to pour water between them. He had not realized how parched he was until the first liquid splashed on his tongue, and he began to flex his jaw, wanting more and causing the vial to bounce along his chin. Water dribbled in a thin trail down his neck and across his collarbone, but he didn't care. It was so gloriously wet. Never before had he felt such euphoria upon receiving anything.
When the water was gone he gasped, closing his eyes and sinking back against the ground. Unless Sakura planned to take him back to Konoha and interrogate him, he could not fathom why she would be helping him. If that was the case, he was grateful that she had spared his life, but he would sooner cut out his own tongue than utter a traitorous word.
He opened his mouth to tell her this, but when he spoke, nothing but a harsh crackling emerged.
Green eyes narrowed and a line formed between her eyebrows as she murmured, "Quiet now..."
Kabuto wasn't accustomed to being helpless. He found that he didn't like it, and even though her order was logical, the shred of pride that he still retained obstinately refused to listen to it.
He licked his lips and asked, in a slightly raspy tone, "Where am I?"
Sakura's face went carefully blank as she leaned back, and he studied her silently. She was gathering her thoughts, determining how much she should tell him, and he couldn't blame her for that. His savior or not, she was still his enemy, and she had a right to withhold information from him, as well as an obligation to look out for her own best interests.
At great length she glanced back down toward him and sighed. "I don't know."
Kabuto frowned.
Reaching behind her, Sakura pulled a pouch from the ground and began to dig through it. The sound of glass bottles knocking against one another could be heard, and though Kabuto wanted to demand more, the look on her face told him to wait.
When she lifted one bottle high, a sliver of light that had entered the hut hit it and sent a bright flash across the room. All at once, the memories came flooding back.
In his mind's eye he could see clearly the meadow where they had all been fighting. The day had been hot, almost unbearably so, and sweat had slicked his body from both the battle and the intensity of the sun. His opponent, none other than the woman who was kneeling above him now, had proven a formidable one, and he had known that she held the power to crush him if he allowed her an opening.
Something had distracted him. The field had been level before, with him facing Haruno Sakura, and his two companions each battling their own foe. Sasuke had of course clashed with Naruto, and Orochimaru had faced the only remaining man. Kabuto had not been worried about Orochimaru, however; talented as he was, Hatake Kakashi was not competition enough to endanger the sennin's life.
The balance of power had shifted when Jiraiya had entered the field. And then... that last attack...
Closing his eyes, Kabuto pictured it clearly against a backdrop of blackness. A flash of light, a rush of chakra, and he had known it was a killing blow. His only thought had been to put himself between that force and Orochimaru. He remembered locking eyes with Sakura for an instant before springing forward, remembered the sensation of his body burning from the inside out, and then, nothing.
He had assumed he was dead in that moment.
He had been wrong.
Cool, slick fingers slid across his chest and he opened his eyes, watching Sakura warily. She was spreading a salve of sorts across his skin, and had yet to reach the damaged area. He knew that as soon as she touched it, the sensation would be unbearable, and so he braced himself for it.
She began to speak, to take his mind from her actions. "You've been unconscious for three days, Kabuto-san. I managed to heal most of your injuries. I'm afraid the wounds to the right side of your body are more severe, but as soon as you're in a proper medical setting, an operation can be performed to take care of them. You won't be able to walk unaided for a time," she added, hands finally reaching the aching flesh along his ribs.
He barely managed not to cry out as she began to massage, and he felt the skin shift and crackle, almost like paper. What had been done to him? A cold, numbing fear swept his body, and though he tried to suppress the thought, it came, unbidden.
You can't walk alone. Your body is ruined.
He knew, in no uncertain terms, what that meant. If he could not utilize his body to its full capacity, then Orochimaru would have no use for him. He already knew too much, and Orochimaru had long ago expressed what would happen if he ever outlived his usefulness.
He closed his eyes as a slow, sardonic smile lifted one half of his mouth. He would survive this, only to be killed upon his return.
His options were bleak, but then, for most of his life, Kabuto had been faced with harsh terms and even harsher realities. He would learn to cope with this as surely as he had everything else.
There was just one thing plaguing his mind. Glancing toward Sakura, whose face was a mask of concentration, he wondered. Why had this woman saved him, when he had been doing his best to kill her? Why did she nurse him back to health now, despite everything?
The only explanation could be that she had a bleeding heart. That was a true weakness for a kunoichi. Kabuto had long ago killed any resemblance to proper human feelings, and he knew without a doubt that had their situations been reversed, he would have left her to die without a moment's hesitation.
Relaxing his shoulders despite the pain, Kabuto looked at Sakura through silvery bangs and studied her. From what he had observed of her two years ago, she had not changed much. She had certainly obtained strength, but she was still the emotional girl he remembered.
That would undoubtedly be her undoing.