The Changing of Seasons
By AngeloftheOdd
Kabuto pulled his black wool robe closer to his body. It was a chilly evening, made uncomfortable and damp by the heavy rain showers which had been occurring off and on during the day. The fallen leaves beneath his feet were soggy and smelled faintly of decay, their upturned edges beginning to blacken with rot. It would have been an entirely unpleasant journey if it hadn't been for the blaze of colours offered by the trees in the forest. Reds, yellows, oranges, gold-a final display of beauty before all withered with the coming frost. Autumn in Konoha. It had been so long since he had last come here. He slowed his pace, allowing himself to surrender to the memories this place held. Nostalgia was all but foreign to Kabuto, and yet, he could not stop from indulging, just for a little while. That world-that time-seemed so far away now, like a fading dream.
It had been in the Spring. A warm and sunny day when the flowers were beginning to bloom. The scent of their fragrant blossoms sticky and sweet in the air. The melody of birds singing. His hands stained with stale blood...the echoes of screams ringing in his ears... The medical officer and his wife attempting to console him. But he could not grieve for what he could not remember. They had tried to give him a home, but, in the pit of his stomach there was always this nagging feeling that he didn't belong. Not here. Not to them. Early on he had realized that any attempts made to connect with the people of Konoha were futile. They knew he was not one of them. And he knew it too.
The sticky haze of Summer, oppressive and choking in its humidity. He had been resting in the shade, conserving his energy for the upcoming exams. He knew full well that he was capable of passing these stupid little tests. Pointless games that, in the end, did nothing to separate the weak from the strong, the failures from the successful. And so what if he earned the title of Chunin? It still wouldn't earn him the respect of the village. Oh, the old man and wife would claim to be proud, of course. They would say how delighted they were that he was on the path to becoming a great medical ninja. His skills would benefit all of Konoha one day. But what in Konoha was of benefit to him? The ninja here, always on about protecting the Great Village, honoring the land that had nurtured them in their youth. Not to forget their roots and to give back of themselves to the homeland. To sow new seeds of hope for the future. Noble sentiments, but they held little value to Kabuto. He was simply a weed in their garden.
Kabuto had come to a full stop. It was foolish, he knew, to dwell on thoughts of the past. After all they were inconsequential. Still this spot held special meaning to him...
Winter. A blanket of white shrouding the landscape. The air crisp and clean. A chill so deep he could feel it in his bones. Even the hardiest of ninja were back in their cozy houses. The weather made footprints more visible and scent was virtually impossible to track, scattered on the breeze before vanishing into the night air. But Kabuto knew he would be found. He was counting on it. From out of the swirling storm came a figure. As pale and as fair as the snow itself. And every bit as cold. Long hair, black as the sky above. Eyes shining golden. Luminescent like the stars.
"Kabuto, it is time."
That voice. It was difficult to distinguish it from the howling winds around them.
"Lord Orochimaru."
He had no idea where it was that they were heading. Only that it was away from here. As they left Konoha behind them, side by side, he realized that it really didn't matter what their destination was. As long as he was with Orochimaru. This was where he belonged. This was home.