one_long_mission | [OPEN] The Strange Man's Arrival

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[OPEN] The Strange Man's Arrival

Within hours of finding himself in this new location, he'd removed his Sound forehead protector and buried it in a copse of trees beyond a rice paddy. It was clear that there were no shinobi here, and he had no desire to stand out. What was the saying about the post that sticks up...? If captured, he would need to be able to morph his allegiances to suit, not be branded prematurely by a piece of metal. Purposefully, he'd masked his Chakra and made to blend in, smiling and earning himself the trust of a simple herbsman within the village itself. To even the most trained eye, the young man with the prematurely-grey hair had made himself a home in this so-called Michi no Sato.

Yakushi Kabuto had no home, only cover stories.

Whether this was a test of Orochimaru-sama's or a genjutsu prison devised by any one of their many enemies, Kabuto would survive, would thrive, and would eventually escape to rejoin his master. Any lingering doubts that he might eventually be happy here on his own were quickly squashed. Independence was not an option.

Within a few days, other shinobi began to arrive, some more obviously than others. Through it all, the young man only smiled, collected herbs, mashed poultices, and took careful, careful notes.

The bustle of the Frost Festival provided the perfect opportunity to personally gather more information. The shifting timelines and alternate personalities he'd observed would only be to his benefit here.

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Orochimaru rubbed his forehead and shook his head. "No, there was a better place I was looking into than any more of these collapsing buildings."

With an aggrieved sigh, he turned and strode off toward the trees without another word.

Itachi really was in no condition to follow. He was barely standing as it was, and the longer he was upright, the more he wished he wasn't.

The unexpected burst of chakra that caused the amaterasu left exhausted. And regardless of what Kabuto had forced down his throat, his stomach was still in knots.

Kabuto wasn't certain which he preferred -- the all-powerful Uchiha who was supposed to be one of the strongest shinobi alive, or this bleeding, vomiting mess in front of him. Certainly one was easier to take care of.

When it's obvious the other wasn't going to walk on his own, Kabuto takes his arm and wraps it around his shoulder to walk, supporting his weight with his own strength. "As you wish, Orochimaru-sama."

He hiked through the trees, following a path. "Itachi-kun, I must say I'm not terribly pleased with you at the moment."

It was a murmur and he hit one of the base of the cliff rock faces, pressing his hand against it and disengaging a seal. Another nin used this space in the past, though they took their things with them."

Itachi wasn't pleased with anything at the moment.

Itachi wasn't supposed to be pleased, Itachi was a patient. Kabuto carries him along without complaint, using it as an opportunity to continue to analyze him with his own Chakra as they walk. "As expected of Orochimaru-sama," he says after a moment, studying the area. "Also, Uchiha-san, I would request you not use Amaterasu in a confined space such as this unless you relish the idea of me removing the eye that is responsible for your own safety."

Orochimaru paused at that statement before slipping in. There were shelves carved along two of the walls, worn smooth but empty, and there were branching cavers from the main room, with scroll work along the ceiling that glowed, but with no other purpose that the Sannin had determined. "There's a ledge where we can put him down that way." He waved his hand.

"No more fires Itachi-kun, the goal is not to have you dead."

Itachi collapsed onto the ledge, curling up again.

Orochimaru's words rang hollow when he found himself truly wondering what was worse - the sickness or this supposed cure?

He leaves Itachi there, taking care to prop his head so that if he had to vomit again, it would be on the floor. "At least I do not have to clean the couch now," he notes, finally stripping the examination gloves off. "I will return to the village to purchase supplies where I can. If that is acceptable to you, Orochimaru-sama."

"Go, it's better to get outfitted quickly." He watched Kabuto for a moment, then went over to Itachi with a sigh. "You're going to be less comfortable now Itachi-kun."

"It gets... less comfortable... than this?" he managed to choke. He was used to his chest feeling like it was on fire. But now everything did. He could already feel sweat pooling on the rock.

Kabuto just nods and turns to exit, though he pauses with one hand on the cave's edge to glance back. "Do try not to drown in your own vomit while I'm gone, Uchiha-san," he offers as advice before disappearing to head back and purchase supplies.

Orochimaru headed out of the little cavern as well, going to the one with running water and filling the bucket that sat next to the spring before coming back to the Uchiha. "You need washed. And yes, it does get worse, but the saying -is- that it gets worse before it gets better, now isn't it?"

Itachi groaned. Did he really just hear what he thought heard? Orochimaru wanted to bathe him?! No no no no no...

He couldn't fathom uncurling from the little ball of agony he was in, but he did manage to glare back at the man.

"You're filthy now, you need the wash. Do you really think -you- can manage it?" He just stared back at him, meeting the glare without fear. The man was too tired to do anything more without killing himself.

He clenched his teeth and forced himself to sit up. A drop of sweat ran down his cheek, over his lips. It tasted like liquid fire... like that first batch of medicine... it made him feel sick all over again.

"I can... manage to... to hit the bucket... maybe..."

"So no." He put the bucket out of range and pulled a cloth from his pocket. "Shirt off and tossed to the side. I'll at least deal with the blood."

Unfortunately, with the bucket out of range, Itachi just gagged over the ledge, with nothing really to bring up except blood-tinged bile.

It was a feeling that made coughing up blood seem pleasant.

"The bucket has clean water in it, sicking up in it would defeat the purpose we're aiming for presently." He wet down the cloth and approached the Uchiha. "Now, are you capable of cleaning yourself or not? Last chance."

The cloak had already fallen from his shoulders.

"... Give me... that..." he stretched out his arm for the cloth and doubled over in pain again. Both arms retreated around his stomach as he slid face-first off the ledge.

He stepped forward and braced his hands on his shoulders, shoving him back. "I believe you wouldn't survive the attempt Itachi-kun. Just let me take care of you, mmm?"

"... g...get off of me..." he whimpered at being pushed back.

"Hush. You need to be cleaned and I do think you've irritated Kabuto-kun enough that he is not going to help you. Now. Sit still and let me bathe you." He planted one hand on his chest, the other bringing up the wet cloth to wipe his face of blood.

It was an almost impossible realization... that being undressed by Orochimaru of all people wasn't nearly as painful at this very moment as being forced upright. Any position that wasn't curled up made his stomach burn, as if someone was setting off a fireball technique up his throat. His eyes teared up, purely out of instinct, and it was completely bloody.

He narrowed his eyes as he noticed the change of his eyes, and he released him, fishing out another cloth to tie it securely over his eyes. "Not after last time Itachi-kun."

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