Kabuto knows that Konohagakure is the place he was found; On the outskirts of a destroyed village, suffering from a head wound, and, painfully permanent amnesia. Konoha is the place where he belonged—where he was raised and nurtured.
Kabuto was alone.
He watches the clouds fall upon his once beloved home and sits by himself fiddling with his glasses—the only token of kindness he has taken with him on his journey through his sad life. And a warm breeze passes by; Kabuto places his hand on his frames and tucks away the loose ends of his hair.
"I think this is the end." He says, looking up at the clouds. "For you at least." His mentor replies. Kabuto never thought that it would end this way. He wanted to see how the war ends, and he wanted to see a day where his own plans would unfold. Not like this—dying from his own experiment—on top of a lonely cave.
"Orochimaru-sama, you don't need to say that." He replied, watching the snake skin eat up his body. "After all, we all have our share of retribution and failure."
His mentor chuckled. "Not like you."
Kabuto turned his head painfully and pretended his mentors words did not hurt. A searing pain erupted from his chest, and he had coughed up a wad of blood.
"At least you knew where you came from." Kabuto said, wiping down his glasses. "… Not trapped in a spell of un attainable memories and no recollection of identity."
Orochimaru looked up at the clouds and let a white snake slither past his fingers.
"Ahh.. white snakes. They represent fortune and rebirth…"
The snake sannin took Kabuto because he figured that they had been one in the same—orphaned and alone. Orochimaru watched his pupil go through a brief moment of agonizing pain; and these spasms which seemed to be getting closer together as time lapsed showed signs of death approaching.
"Am I a bad person?" He croaked, lying down on the cool earth. "Why couldn't I…." He stopped for a brief moment to take a breath. "…Why couldn't I ever know what it's like to feel happy?"
The snake sannin wanted to laugh. He was a reanimation after all, and his time on earth was as temporary and useless as anything.
"Unfortunately, we aren't the lucky ones." He replied.
Orochimaru knew that Kabuto never got to feel love. He was trapped into a life of foolishness and pure hatred.
Kabuto and Orochimaru are alone. But not really.
The war behind them had still raged on, and the Allied Forces were on the brink of success. If he had held out for a mere few days, maybe they would still be able to conquer the world.
They had each other.
"I wish…" He murmured under his last breath. "…I wish…"
Kabuto looked over to meet the eyes of his mentor—possibly his only friend, and wondered what it would have been like if he had not chosen this life. He thought momentarily that his eyelids would close for a second—just a second. He was tired and weary, and he just needed to close them.
"I wish…" He kept murmuring.
A familiar face graced his vision—Nono. A picture stapled to the back of his eyelids; his adopted mother. A warm breeze fell over Kabuto and he felt the presence of his family upon him. He suddenly remembered the faces that welcomed him to the world upon his last dying moments.
"…I wish I lived a happier life. One less lonely…" He said smiling.
Orochimaru looked down at his pupils dying form, and felt his spirit lifting up. The body he was made up of ripped apart and flew into the wind like a good memory. The animation jutsu was fading away. Orochimaru placed his hand on Kabuto's eyes and began to accept that he was disappearing. The war was ending, and thankfully, life would be happier. He whispered his last words to his adopted son,
"You were never alone."