A/N- I don't know how many of you have watched candles burn, but they're actually really pretty... Though I really have no idea where this came from. Oh well. Take it the way you want to, and please tell me what you think- I'm really interested to know how other people see it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
-
Kabuto sat silently at his desk. He was supposed to be working, but seeing as it was somewhere near three in the morning, and he'd been sifting through the same sheaf of papers for the past thirty minutes, he'd decided it was time for a well-deserved break.
The overworked medic nin slumped over and rested his head on the stacks of files he had yet to sort. Lazily, he gazed at the candle by his face. It had burnt down so low that he could see over the top of it easily, even from his lowered position, which he did now in vague interest. He propped his head up on a hand and looked down at the flame. It danced gently in the soft flow of his breath. The blinding white core left spots in Kabuto's peripheral vision, and he blinked to clear them. The flame itself was far too bright for him.
Instead, he directed his attention to the pool of melted wax that had formed around the base of the wick. It was clear, almost like water, and it glinted a little in the candle flame's light. His sharp eyes picked up movement from within the waxy liquid. In it floated a particle of dust; barely visible, and spinning wildly around with a rather syncopated rhythm of tide, as if twirling through the melted wax was the only purpose it had ever been given.
Kabuto watched it amusedly. The thing had probably been unlucky enough to land on the surface of melted wax, and been pulled down by whatever heated current it was that drove it now. It would forever remain part of the wax, even long after it had dried.
As he watched, though, it slowed into a steady, gentle orbit around the submerged base of the candle wick. Then, in one orbit that ventured a little too close, the dust particle stuck. Kabuto saw it happen, but the next moment, he could no longer discern the particle from the stem, almost as if the tiny piece had been absorbed into it, to be sent up and serve as the smallest, most insignificant bit of fuel for the flame to consume.
Kabuto sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes. It was time to get back to work. He glanced at the flame once more as he picked up a sheaf of papers, and the light reflected off of his glasses, shining brightly and suddenly into the eyes of an unnoticed observer at the doorway.
The shadowed figure turned quickly with a flip of long, dark hair, and left without a word.