Author's Note: Aloha my fellow Naruto Fans! So this is just a little introduction to my Naruto OC's story. It'll follow along the Naruto story arcs with little extra parallels to build on her character. This is far from the beginning of her backstory, but I plan on covering that in dreams, discussions, etc. as the story progresses. If it progresses .. There's also the possibility that I'll backtrack and create another storyline that gets all that worked out.
Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishimoto. I own nothing, save for the hours I spent typing this and the idea for Seiren's Character
Serenity. The world and everything of it bathed in soft whites and muted greys. Muted also, the rustling of the leaves and soft whispers of the wind. She could see them, the gusts- swirling and dancing about in milky streaks. Yet she felt nothing against her arms… against her face. Nothing through her hair. If they were even hers at all.
And then the world rushed back at her, along with the blood in her ears. The chill receded from her extremities, leaving a peculiar prickle in its wake. The woman shook her head, dazed from the onslaught of colors and the far-away chirps and trills of spooked wildlife. She took her right hand to her scalp, cradling the latter against the sharp pangs coming from within. As dull thuds replaced them, it went to her hair, running her fingers through the unkempt strands; smearing sticky crimson into the dark-chestnut brown, knotting it against the beads and feathers entwined there.
Jerking her hand away, she inspected the arm, finding it coated in the stuff up to the elbow. The donors lying in crumpled heaps of flesh and cloth around her. She rubbed her palm against her clothing, staining first the muddy-brown of her robe, then the beige of her breeches.
"You work fast," a self-assured voice sounded from behind her, cutting short her brief respite.
Another one?
She whirled around in alarm, left arm extended, thrusting the crescent of her chakram and its deadly promise mere fragments away from the newcomer. Wild jade eyes matched against an unfazed onyx gaze.
"Kabuto," she heaved his name in a sigh, measuring her relief against the discomfort his presence brought.
The eyes behind his spectacles dropped to the blade by his neck with wary suspicion. The blade, of which, she had no intention of moving. Not yet. But nor did she make a move against the man. Not yet.
"Seiren…" Kabuto warned, rearing his head back in an effort to put some distance between them.
"You gave me the all-clear," she growled, her voice low with resentment. Muscles tensed.
"Did I? Well… there's room for error," came his casual reply.
"Six of them?" Seiren hissed, teeth momentarily grinding together- the angry little tick in her jaw bringing an impish curl to the corner of Kabuto's mouth. The insisting pressure of her weapon on his skin, not so much.
"It seems to me you handled them well enough." He turned his eyes down several levels from her face, brow raised. "Or is it something else that's got you on edge?" An infuriatingly cocky smirk now playing openly across his lips.
Had it been any other man, she might have taken him to be looking at her chest. But Kabuto was no lecher. No. His desires were far more complex; his designs far more depraved. And his mind? A far cry from those easily molded by inviting caresses and honeyed words. An unfortunate thing.
"Are you done?" Kabuto questioned, his tone taking on impatience. He raised his right hand slowly, two of his fingers held against the bend of her blade, nudging it away. Or at least, trying to.
She could see herself in the reflection of his glasses. Of his dark irises. Of his disposition.
Her grip tightened around the handle of her armament; teeth once again finding themselves clamped against each other. Oh how she wanted nothing more than to… but she couldn't. Not when—
"Lord Orochimaru has called us here for a reason. Or have you forgotten?" Kabuto interrupted her thoughts, both voice and tone hardened by his mellowing amusement.
Seiren gave a huff of resignation, dropping her arm and leaving him free to pass. After fixing his glasses higher upon the bridge of his nose, pass he did.
"You know, we'll be working this together. We really should be trying to get along." Apparently not without another of his haughty quips.
"Your sincerity astounds," she scoffed out, turning with him. Unwilling to give him her back. "But I'll have to decline that offer."
Ignoring her, he moved with long, unconcerned strides, stopping only to admire her handiwork. He stooped, his hand hovering over a stray forearm, but rising with a Konoha Anbu mask in its grasp. Or rather, the halves of one—split down the middle and rimmed with drying blood.
"You made quite the mess." The way he spoke, it almost seemed like praise. But then, this was Kabuto.
"I'm not in the habit of caring."
"Good. Clean yourself up." He tossed her a waterskin, plump and leaking when it hit the palm of her free hand.
Hitching her chakram to the clip at the hip of her trousers, she turned the pouch over in her hands. She popped the stopper and sniffed at its contents, earning intermittent looks from Kabuto, who busied himself with checking the bodies of her victims. She fixed her gaze on him then, searching for any indication that his gesture was a ruse. She found none. Drizzling the glassy liquid over her arms brought faint stinging sensations amongst the cool reprieve. Little pink nicks and cuts decorating her sun-bronzed skin; previously cloaked under the blood of those, whole and partial, lying splayed about the turf. She doused her hair, banishing the crusty clots from her tangled locks- the water collecting above her ears and crawling down her neck.
Kabuto turned his attention away from picking through the corpses, taking in her now soggy, disheveled appearance. "Tell me you have something better than that," he sneered, upper lip curved in a grimace.
Seiren's fingers worked deftly in forming the hand signs, enveloping her in a veil of smoke. As it cleared to a thin mist, she could see herself in the small pools of water at her feet. Hardly a mirror of what had been. Dark eyes stared up at her, sitting in the pale face of a child and framed by shoulder-length, choppy fawn hair. Strange, but not unfamiliar. She looked to Kabuto, chin turned up; the top of her head reaching only to his collar bone… where she once stood nearly equal with him. A fact she was sure he delighted in.
"There's an improvement." Again with his pompous cracks and weasely smile.
"More than I can say for you, boy," her challenge came in a mild, more refined voice well-suited to her new form.
His face contorted into a wide, twisted grin the moment her subdued intonations reached his ears. He turned from her then, angling his body to the east. East, where beyond the canopy of stationary green, drifting white, and settling hues of orange, lay the quiet little village of Konohagakure.
That was soon to change. Quiet? They would be engulfed in the roar of retribution for their false innocence. Standing? Not after Orochimaru had his way.
"Now, then. Let's go home, shall we?"
Another Note: So, if this got your attention, please do leave comments/reviews! Let me know if I've done something right/tell me about everything I'm doing wrong, yes? Reviews a) make me happy (regardless of their content), and b) give me motivation to write :D.
If you're interested in her, I've got a DeviantArt account: art/Naruto-OC-Seiren-455408867
There, you can find her appearance (I'm no artist :P), where the story is coming from, and where it might be going. I plan on updating both sites pretty regularly if there's interest in the community. Mahalo for your time! Have a beautiful day! :D