Of Bones and Blossoms
Prologue.
Kaguya Kimimaro had a simple way of looking at things. Take flowers, for example. They were awfully pretty.
Even though he was a child, merely twelve, he had an adult-like outlook on life. He understood things other children did not. He was special.
Flowers, like all things, died eventually, he noticed. Most of the flowers died off before they had a chance to grow, but one.. one fought the onslaught of cold and water, and began to bloom. He took care of that flower, in that little mossy area he stayed in, alone. That flower was the only flower that bloomed in the soaked moss; it was special, like him. He made sure that flower didn't drown, he made sure it got plenty of sunlight; the sunlight he never had.
The boy was a killing machine, yet his soul was as innocent as the harmless flower he so diligently nurtured. In a way, he thought he quite resembled that flower. He'd shed blood, much of it, but he did it for his family. His clan. He didn't want to kill, they forced him to. And they'd treated him like dirt the whole time. But, for some reason, he couldn't find it in himself to hate them. His heart contained no anger; only hurt, sorrow. It hurt him to know that his clan, the only people he'd had non-violent interactions with, rejected and shunned him. They kept him locked away in a dark, bleak cage until they needed his powers.
After they were slaughtered, he had nowhere to go, no one to stay with. And so he wandered through the wilderness, until he came upon the flower. It was beautiful; large, white, with specks of red. It gave Kimimaro something to related to, so he treasured it, clung to it; it kept him sane, kept him human.
One day, a man happened upon him. Kimimaro was awake, but he feigned sleep, hoping the man would just pass him by. Kimimaro watched though on half-lidded eye as the man approached him, carelessly stepping on that flower that Kimimaro worked so hard to preserve. A pang shot through his heart. His link to the world, his link to the living, his only companion, was gone, just like that.
But could he hate the man for that? No, he could not.
He found that the man was actually a shinobi. His garb was of browns and tans, which contrasted greatly with his pale, white skin. His long black hair fell into his face and cascaded down his back. He looked quite sinister to the young Kaguya's eye, and Kimimaro's defenses were already up. His fighting instincts kicked in as the man came a bit closer, and a bone began moving, probing and pressing against the pale skin of his forearm. As the man moved yet closer, his fingers twitched, and the bone broke through the skin. Kimimaro grabbed the end, which was used as a handle, and pulled the bone from his arm. The bone was shaped into a blade; a sharp, jagged blade that was tougher and more resilient than a sword made of the strongest steel.
"What an amazing talent.." The shinobi murmured. "Boy, is that your kekkei genkai?"
"Yes," Kimimaro answered warily, the blade end pointed at the man.
"Marvelous," The man said. He seemed to be talking to himself, but Kimimaro remained cautious nonetheless.
"Where is your family, boy?" The man asked him. "What is your name?"
Kimimaro did not lower his short sword. "I am Kimimaro, of the Kaguya clan.. I am the only one left."
The man remained silent for a moment. "Kimimaro-kun.." he finally mumbled, as if trying out the name. His gently tone of voice made the hairs on the back of the boy's neck stand on end.
The man struck up conversation, questioning and commenting, and his words and harmless actions lowered Kimimaro's guard. He eventually engaged in open conversation with him, the sword lying on the ground, useless. He told him of his abilities, of the "Bone Regeneration" technique, and what had occurred on the night of his clan's annihilation.
Finally, the man said, "I am Orochimaru. Come with me, Kimimaro-kun.. I will show you your value. I need you… I shall give you a new purpose in life!"
Kimimaro glanced at the crumbled flower, flat on the ground. He then shuffled over to it, bent, and took it up in his hands, roots and all. He then turned to the one called Orochimaru, looking at him with innocent eyes, his face blank. "This flower was my only companion.. You ruined it."
Orochimaru looked only slightly taken aback, but quickly composed his facial expression, looking at the boy curiously. "I see.." He stood, offering a pale hand to the boy. "I will be your new companion."
Kimimaro's face lit up. A new companion? It sounded too good to be true. Maybe, finally, he'd have someone to relate to, someone to talk with.. He took the man's hand, and followed behind him, leaving the crumpled, once-beautiful flower behind in the dirt.