Disclaimer: Naruto obviously isn't mine. But they say immitation is the highest form of flattery.
Kabuto let the breeze billow over him. The sun was high and the weather clear, one would say the day was almost cheerful. But one would be wrong. That breeze… That breeze was ominous. Had it been a still day it would have been a pleasant temperature, the medic-nin might have even considered removing his cloak, but the wind would almost certainly raise gooseflesh the way it was blowing. An autumn day in a spring setting, like a poor man in a lord's dress, it just doesn't look right. Yet it seemed fitting for this occasion. Kabuto would have smiled if he had a fraction less self-control. You never knew who was watching, and for that matter, from what angle. It was not outside the realm of possibility that the Sasori had employed some form of scouting nin, summons, or jutsu to place him under the keenest observation while he stood (theoretically) alone, hooded, and facing out from the center of the bridge. The traitor's sharp mind had been honed since childhood on how to hide the deepest secrets, intentions, emotions- and to be on guard from those who might try to tease them out from as much as an eye twitch or an upturned lip. Perhaps that was the cause of his erratic behavior over the years: maybe he had hid his true intentions and goals so well, secluding and securing them away from those who might discern them, that Kabuto himself could no longer decipher his own motivations. It was also possible that he had simply gone insane from the wars, pressures, and the monsters which had so suddenly surrounded him at an incredibly young impressionable age. That, in fact, was most likely the case- but it never hurt to be romantic about things. The wind continued to blow, ignoring his presence as he seemingly ignored it.
Sasori won't be long, he doesn't like to keep people waiting. The medic-nin knew this as surely as he knew he had thirty-two kunai in his hip pouch, seventeen shurikin in his leg holster, and that there were, on average, 208 bones in the adult (un-mutated) human body. Sasori's impatient personality was just another part of unchangeable reality. Funny then, that the Akatsuki artist would have a sense of beauty based on the concept of the eternal. One would have guessed that he simply would not have the patience for the delicate and time consuming art of puppet construction, yet Sasori never seemed to stop being at odds with his own personal nature. Never quite one thing, and never quite the other. Again, Kabuto had to restrain a smile from passing his lips. Even the employment of brainwashed spies is a contradiction, isn't it Master Sasori? whispered Kabuto's malicious mind. A puppet without strings, that's what you tried to make out of me.
The urge to adjust his already perfectly balanced glasses burned like an itch he knew he mustn't scratch. Waiting could indeed annoy a person to no end- especially when one had a mind as thoughtful and winding as Kabuto's. He yearned for the arrival of the Aktuski so he could begin to play his part. It was when he was interacting with his environment that Kabuto felt truly comfortable. To be sure, this didn't mean he always had to be in motion, far from it. Kabuto extracted far more pleasure from carefully coordinated action. A well placed sentence here, a scalpel slice there, his forte was always in weaving the details; interacting with the unpredictable to create a controlled situation and generate useful information for further study and use. Merely waiting around and quietly observing had always been his least favorite way of data collecting. Take that Uchia brat for example… his brain began to whisper.
The barest hint of bells in the air interrupted him in mid-thought. The sound had been heavily muffled by the wind that would not cease its blowing, yet he was sure he had heard it distinctly. Kabuto had never been very good at detecting chakra signatures, it was only when he was in close proximity and the target had prepped or released a considerable amount of the primal energy that he was readily able to recognize its presence. Never-the-less, the medic-nin prided himself on his sharp senses and his ability to remain perfectly attuned to his surroundings (the glasses he had always worn corrected his slight case of far-sightedness and only helped further his air of harmlessness). Yes, there definitely was a presence approaching from the south side, slowly shuffling across the ground, almost as though it was dragging or rolling itself with some bizarre new form of locomotion. Kabuto still did not shift his gaze from the east as he looked off into the horizon above the gaping chasm. The Land of Grass was actually quite pretty if you stayed away from its more hazardous environments. Remain calm, but hint at your worry. Fear of discovering under the control of iron discipline. Don't look up yet, you are a confident, powerful individual and so you don't need to look for confirmation that it's your master. Coaching at the very beginning seemed to always be necessary. Once he started moving and speaking, everything, all his lies and half-truths would flow like water out of his false demeanor. He would still be the same person, but with a new detached agenda and motivation. Kabuto was good at his job. Wait for him to get close. That's it, you trust your superior… WAIT! Something's-
Kabuto spun to his right the second he heard the bang from the approaching puppeteer. Judging from the initial scraping sound the presence had only reached the edge of the bridge. Kabuto's retina registered two images as his reflexes took over and he drove himself skyward with a chakra burst: First, a terrible imitation of Sassori's puppet Hiruko lying in pieces at the edge of the bridge, and second, a green streak emerging from that point and speeding down on him like a lightening bolt. Fast! was the first rational thought that leapt through Kabuto's reeling mind as it attempted to make sense of the situation. He was airborne, high above the bridge now, his mind desperately trying to catch up. The green thunderbolt, no, ninja, Kabuto corrected inwardly had covered a distance of 75 meters in less than a second, far less than a second, Kabuto realized. Its an imposter! Ambush!stop looking down and check- Kabuto's eyes snapped up from the bridge and his search for the now elusive green blur. Perfectly parallel to him, perhaps 100 meters distant a figure clad in white and green had struck a hangman's pose, a long sheet of scroll draped gracefully over one extended arm, and sunlight glinting off what must have been a forehead protector. They've thrown something! Kabuto realized with instant horror.
Again his reflexes and instincts saved him, twisting his honed body to the right in mid air, feeling the whoosh of kunai slice by his chest as he turned his center into his profile. The blades had missed by millimeters. He had reached the max height of the jump now, descent would begin in less than a second. His left hand went back to his hip pouch, seeking a kunai of his own- the incident was less than two seconds in yet time seemed to be crawling by. He had to take the offensive now if he hoped to steal the fight's momentum. No such luck. Kabuto wasn't sure where the young face came from that he was suddenly staring at. One moment there had been clear horizon, the next a visage not more than seven inches from his own. Few details realized, black bowl haircut, giant eyebrows, serious eyes, grim set lips. Ugly. was the thought that shot through the medic-nin's mind. Kabuto struck like a coiled serpent, the kunai swinging round in a blur and toward the approximate location that he assessed the aggressor's heart should be at in relation to its theoretical anatomy (based on the current location of the target's cranium).
grab!snap! "Gehh!" Kabuto let out a short yelp of pain as he felt the ulna and radius in his left arm fracture and jam up into the tissue of his brachioradialis muscles far below his elbow. The medic-nin stole a glance down at his fractured arm as his right came round, glowing blue with the chakra scalpel he had been holding in reserve for the surprise attack on Sasori (which seemed to Kabuto now to be less and less likely). The ugly young boy had caught his left wrist with one hand, holding it in place an inch away from its intended target of the primary cardiac muscle and locked Kabuto's elbow straight out. At the same time he had brought a green clad knee up into the forearm and shattered the bones with incredible force. The medic-nin's chakra blade came in at a slicing arc, aiming to split across the bland face's eyes and nose. The bushy browed assailant didn't see the attack coming until it was almost too late, eyes widening in realization as his peripheral vision registered the neon blue flame aimed to divide his cornea. A sudden push and release off Kabuto's arm saved the young ninja's eyes, catapulting the green clad figure one meter back: Kabuto's fingertips just sliced into his epidermis above his nose.
Arm still livid with chakra, Kabuto brought his attacking hand down on his broken left- altering the flow with pinpoint control to begin to fuse the bones back together. He had already begun channeling chakra into the damaged areas with his elite technique the moment the pain had started, but with a direct medical jutsu he would be able to accelerate the process. Kabuto's eyes stared fixedly through the lenses of his glasses at the ninja who had inflicted such swift harm to him. Rock Lee you son of a bitch.
Rock Lee, the good for nothing genin from his seventh chunnin exam trial who had no ninjitsu skill whatsoever! Rock Lee, the taijutsu specialist who had just broken his arm and now leered at him; eyes full of pride and excitement, ready to continue the battle once he gained more leverage. The blood was boiling in his veins, the ambush had only begun approximately 3 seconds ago and he already had to heal significant damage- dealt by a chunnin no less!
He was descending now, falling back toward the bridge. His arm would be in working condition when he landed and from there he would have to act quickly, if Rock Lee was in front of him, that meant that the adorable Tenten was the one who had nearly skewered him a few moments before. That just left- all of Kabuto's hair went on end then. In front of him, Rock Lee was still leering, but not at me, realized Kabuto. He's looking behind me. A sharp and powerful presence suddenly made itself felt, setting off every survival instinct in Kabuto's body. A quick jerk of his head and eyes was all Kabuto could manage as the assault began on his chakra network. He caught only a glimpse of the pale specter behind him. A light complexion, a glint of headband, black hair. And white eyes. There was no reflection in the Byakugan's pupiless stare, but he was sure that if there had been they would have shown him his own stunned reflection. Two-four-eight-twelve-eighteen-. The strikes rained in so fast that he could barely tell them apart, landing in his shoulders, spine, and kidneys. Along the chakra points themselves he felt nothing, just numbness. But in the organs and nervous systems he certainly felt something. Delirious, sharp, pain. The simple plans that Kabuto had formulated had been to land, roll backward, release a flurry of weapons, locate the next immediate threat, and hold it off with medical taijutsu until Orochimaru got over his surprise and amusement and stepped in. Now he would be lucky if he could just land without breaking anything else. He still had decent control of his legs but the gentle fist attack had already dealt serious damage to his internal organs. The blows to his spinal column were especially annoying, playing havoc with his motor system and reflex control. Not unlike that attack from Tsunade three years ago. No, things had gone especially bad very quickly. When his feet touched the bridge, his knees also seemed to see no reason not to either. With a crash, he found himself buckling onto all fours to absorb more of the landing. He was vaguely aware that Rock Lee had not joined them down below, the push from the arm having him land on the suspension wire three meters above the deck. He was also vaguely aware that Hyugga Neji had landed gracefully on the handrail directly behind him. Kabuto sluggishly pushed off his hands into a kneeling position. Not much time, quick bef-
"Leaf Hurricane!" the voice was pure, deep, and over the top, the kick was like being struck across the face with an I-beam. Kabuto felt his jaw dislocate, felt his body corkscrew and lift off the bridge, traveling face first toward the rail that the Hyugga was perched so angelically on. Kabuto thought he saw his glasses fly away in the top right corner of his vision and idly wondered where they were going. Far more pressing however was the hand rail that was speeding toward his face at an incredible rate. A part of Kabuto questioned how the bridge could be moving toward him; the other part greatly wished he hadn't left his forehead protector behind at the base. The ambush had been completed in ten seconds. Kabuto Yakushi was suddenly both unconscious and a prisoner of the Leaf.