Author's Note/Warning: I'm not going to give it right away, but... warning for... what might squick someone?
Title: Small
The base was quiet, for the most part, which was unusual. Well, it was unusual for a base that Orochimaru was currently residing in, in any case. But the master was currently out, as it was. Where he was, not even his right-hand, Kabuto, knew. He'd vanished three days prior, without a word to anyone, leaving his medic behind at the small outpost. They'd just brought in a group of people from a nearby village, but things had already quieted down from that. The villagers all cowered and huddled together in the cells, all being chosen for separate things. None of it pertained to Kabuto's duties, and so he was left with nothing to do but wait for his wayward master. The day was dreary, and cold outside. It hadn't ceased to drizzle non-stop ever since they had come to the lousy base, and the area wasn't ventilated well as it was. The air was either freezing cold or stiflingly hot, and it was always damp.
Clothing clung to the body like a second skin, and in the dim light of his candle-lit room, Kabuto spent his time reading over old scrolls and double checking his equipment. Medicine for his master, tools, weapons, scrolls, and all manor of things he brought everywhere with them. He'd recounted them three times. With a sigh, he glanced out to the window, watching as the rain pelted it mercilessly, even to the point of obstructing his vision of the surrounding land. Such was Mizu no Kuni, the Land of Water. What an awful country, with an awful past. Long, useless hours later, Kabuto had all but settled in for the night when a ninja burst into his room, nearly finding his neck opened wide by the medic's curved kunai. The man screeched, falling back, as Kabuto righted himself, adjusting his glassed.
"You ought to learn manors... You shouldn't surprise—"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! There's a problem, Yakushi-sensei, and I was told to get—!"
"A problem?" One silver eyebrow rose. Had his master returned? The scrawny man stood, fixing his crooked kunai holster.
"One of the villagers, something is wrong with her! She's screaming like crazy, but the others won't let us near her! They told me to get you..." He led off, watching the medic grab a large bag and head for the door calmly. He followed along, down the winding staircase that delved deep into the wet, moist ground.
It was even hotter down here. Kabuto adjusted his glasses as he felt them slide a little down his nose, sighing in frustration at the group of ninja that had gathered. Some of them were shouting at the villagers, and the door to the large cell was open. There were at least thirty people inside, and there was room for more. Most of the Otonin seem relieved to see Kabuto appear, moving aside for the shorter ninja.
"What's going on?" He asked one of them, a tall ex-Mist ninja whom had switched over.
"We can't get them back, but we were under strict orders not to kill anyone. They're not fighting us, they're just not moving." The man growled, fingers moving impatiently. Intent to kill was high, all around the room. Kabuto cleared his voice, putting on his wide, unassuming smile.
"Attention, Kusari villagers!" He said, waiting for the noise to die own a little. His voice was loud, but so pleasant that they had simply stopped shouting out of curiosity, perhaps. A woman's scream was heard in the silence, and others rushed to shush her. "My name is Yakushi Kabuto, and I am a medic. Please, move aside so that we may attend your fellow villager..."
"Murderers!" One of the men in the group spat, a nasty look on his dirty face.
"Liars! Butchers!"
"She's better off dead!"
"Don't move for anyone!"
It seemed to be the collective opinion. The woman screamed again, in agony. Kabuto cleared his throat again, his voice turning dark and deadly.
"...Men, you have my permission to kill anyone that resists. Do not worry about Orochimaru-sama's orders, I will take full responsibility for any grievance that he has. Get to the woman." He adjusted his slipping glasses again, and the men fell into the group of cowering civilians. Within moments they had cleared away those in the way, keeping them all to one side of the cell and placing a wall of Otonin between the woman and the others. Kabuto was not prepared for what he saw...
The woman was pale, a shade that would do his master justice. Her tangled mass of brown hair clung to her face with perspiration and humidity, and her clothing was wet with it, gray dress clinging to her small form. Her eyes were dull, almost seeming sightless, and her hands clung to her skirt with white knuckles. She screamed again, throwing her head back in despair, back arching. Her round stomach protruded more than twelve inches from her abdomen, raising and falling with each wet gasp of air that she took in between her screams of pain. Around her was a pool of wet filth, and the sour smell of it assaulted his sensitive nose suddenly. Good gods... she was having a child.
Moving forward quickly, he knelt and set his bag down, opening it. He pulled out two gloves, biting the ends of his purple gloves as he ripped them off, replacing them with the elbow length white rubber ones. He reached out to touch her thigh, and she screamed, kicking violently at him. He caught her foot easily, cursing. "Miss, I'm going to help you. You have to let me—"
"No! Don't touch me, monster! You'll take him! I won't let you!" She screamed, her voice trembling. Kabuto frowned, his mind racing. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and irregularly. She was near hyperventilating.
"...Grab her." He ordered. "I said grab her!" He shouted, when no one moved fast enough for his taste. The woman's voice was shrill as she screamed again, and the villagers all shouted in uproar as four ninja moved forward, one on each arm, and one holding each leg as Kabuto directed them. "...I'm sorry." He said quickly, reaching forward. "You're not fully dilated. Miss, I'm going to give you something to ease your pain." He stated, deadpan. Reached into his bag again, ignoring the shouts from the villagers not to touch her, and pulled out small bottle and needle. Filled the needle, setting the bottle back and squeezing the excess out.
"No...! Nonono! Don't do it, don't take him! He's mine!" She wailed, closing her eyes as her head fell back, her body going limp for the moment. Kabuto used the chance to inject the anesthesia.
"Don't let him!" One woman shouted, crying out as she was shoved roughly back into the group.
"Soroi, just hold on! You can't let him!" A man shouted.
"Soroi?" Kabuto repeated, and the woman's eyes snapped open, perhaps a little less dull. "Soroi, I'm going to need you to breathe. If you hyperventilate, and lose control, your baby is going to die. Do you want that?"
"No!" She groaned, tears slipping down her white face.
"Soroi!"
"Soroi, you traitor!"
"Nnnnooo!" She screamed, and Kabuto winced. This was impossible in this environment. He motioned for those holding her to stand, but as soon as they moved the dark-haired woman wailed again, her body shuddering. Kabuto lent forward, fingers feeling again.
"...Too late. We can't move her now." He lamented. "I need you to push. Do you understand?" He asked the woman, meeting her glazed eyes. She nodded strongly, and her fellow villagers erupted in a chorus of threats and curses. "Shut them up!" Kabuto cursed venomously, and his eyes began to sting. With his clean hand, he reached up to rub them, keeping them closed as he fought his body's urges. Stay calm. Breathe. Adjusted his glasses, opening them again. Soroi was sobbing, and the medic was growing more frustrated. He leaned over her, feeling his knees become wet. Grabbing her chin with the hand that had rubbed his eyes, he gripped it. "Listen to me, Soroi! I need you to listen to me. I need you to breathe, or this baby isn't going to make it." He said, loudly over the sound of the others shouting and screaming as they were struck to silence them.
"Plleassee..." The woman sobbed, closing her eyes. "Please...!"
"Breathe!"
"Nooo... nono... I can't!"
"Yes you can!"
"Oh, no no no...! Please... Don't take my baby..." She whispered, opening her eyes again. Kabuto fought the urge to glare in irritation, and instead he kept his face pleasant.
"I'm not going to take your baby anywhere, Soroi... You can stay with it. I promise."
"No! No, no, you'll take him away! Kill it!"
"...What?" Kabuto let go of her face, sitting back.
"Kill itt... Kill my baby...!" She said acidly, but then she sobbed again. "Oh gods... my precious baby..." She screamed again, and Kabuto blinked his dark eyes slowly. He wasn't prepared for this. Any of this. She wasn't going to cooperate. In a rash decision, he reached back into his bag.
He never would be able to explain why, but he felt he had to. He had to save this baby. From the village that wanted to prevent it, and from the woman who seemed to condemn and love it. He lifted the long, thing scalpel from the bag. "Bring me towels. Lots of them!" He ordered, and several ninja behind him rushed away. One of he ninja holding the woman's leg paled.
"Yakushi-sensei, I can't—!" He stopped as the medic's cold black eyes narrowed, singling him out.
"You pass out, get sick, or open your mouth one more time and I'll slit your throat open as surely as I do her stomach." He hissed, and was that red that was creeping into the corners of his eyes? The ninja's eyes widened, and he nodded quickly. Soroi had fallen back into her wailing, head back and body tense, but limp. Kabuto lifted her dress, pulling it back. Set the scalpel to her abdomen, making a very quick decision of anatomy as he let his eyes race over her body. The ninja returned with the towels just as he drew the long, red line. Blood bubbled, trickled, and soaked as he slipped his hands in. The villagers were in uproar, and Kabuto's glasses were slipping again. Soroi was moaning horribly.
Moments later, he held the crying baby in his hands, wrapping it in the soft towel. He handed the bundle to the man next to him, ripping off his gloves and setting them over the wound, healing her as quickly as he could. The men holding her legs had already let go, and only the ones holding her arms kept her from falling back. Her eyes were half-closed, and her chest barely rose and fell, lips almost blue.
"Soroi?" He asked, urging. Her eyes fluttered, but her color was gone. "Shit!" He cursed, but the wound was already healed. Her body was failing, and in this environment, there was nothing that he could do. Slowly, he lowered her dress, his expression grim. Her mouth moved, over and over, but no voice was behind it. He couldn't make it out. The baby was crying. The villagers were all shouting, calling for its death. Kabuto wanted to kill them all at once, save for the small, writhing child.
The woman called Soroi was gone.
- - - - - - - -
Kabuto stood at the end of the hallway, holding the child in his arms, wrapped in its bloody towel. He stared into its now sleeping face, red as a tomato. Glanced up as the ex-Mist neared him. "I'm sorry," He said with a wince. "there's no women here."
"Come again?"
"There's... we don't have any kunoichi here at this outpost. And the Kusari villagers..."
"Yes, I know that's not an option." Kabuto snapped, glaring. He took a deep breath, eyes falling over himself, and the baby. They both needed a good cleaning... "Alright... I think I'm going to shower. See if you can't find some fresh goats milk or something around here, and have it brought to me as soon as possible."
"...Yakushi-sensei...you're going to take care of it?" The taller man asked, blinking. Kabuto glared in response.
"If you know someone better suited, please don't withhold that information." He said shortly, and the other man shook his head. "Then do as I've said." He turned away, carrying the baby with him as he left the damp, hot cells.
- - - - - - - -
Two hours later, Kabuto laid out on his side in bed, his hair damp from the shower, and clinging to his naked shoulders. He'd left his glasses on for now, as he propped himself up on one elbow. The room was hot, and dimly lit with several candles on the nightstand. His other hand traced the sleeping baby's small head, soft fingertips feeling the soft down that was its dark patch of hair. Down to dimple one plump cheek, and rounding off at the chin.
The medic had never studied babies. That is, he hadn't even been around them very much, though he had read about them. The human body was a worksheet, all spread out for his skilled hands to cut and prod, poke and shape, like so much wet clay. But a baby... Perhaps he had just never realized it. One small shoulder, and one chubby arm, down to those tiny fingers. When his fingertip touched the palm, the hand reacted, grabbing a hold. The baby squirmed, waking slowly, swaddled in the cloth diaper that he had fashioned for it. Earlier he had filled the sensitive belly with warm milk, treated by his careful measurements with small doses of vitamins and antibodies. Simulating a mother's milk, he'd liked to think of it. The baby's blue eyes opened, an it cooed, legs and arms flailing a little, except for the one that held his finger tightly. So... small. The anatomy reversed. Kabuto had spent so much time watching people grow older, and making them do so, that he had forgotten just how small they all once were.
Helpless, futureless, aimless... They had all—even its mother, called for its death. But why? Why? It still stung something deep inside of the medic to think about it. This baby laying on his bed had a life, he knew that best of all. Why, with just a little chakara he could tell you everything about its physical state. It was vibrant, and full of youth and potential. A strong pulse for its heart, and an impressive supply of chakara for a baby...
How...how could they condemn that? This baby could grow up to be stronger than any of them... Given the chance. Perhaps, just perhaps... a smile might have tugged at the corner of his lips.
"It's a boy... Soroi." The rain outside had stopped.
- - - - - - - -
It wasn't until three days later that his master returned, with a small entourage of ninja behind him. He headed first for the cells, his voice quick and impatient as he got out of the ninja there just what had happened. He didn't wait for the full explanation before he sought out his medic, trailed by four of the ninja that had followed him here. He reached the door belonging to the room that Kabuto was inhabiting here, opening it without knocking.
- - - - - - - -
Kabuto froze like a small animal caught suddenly in the eyes of a much larger prey. His hand was poised in midair, the small body resting over his shoulder, a towel under it. His hair was loosely tied, and disheveled. Dark circles had formed under his tired eyes, and his headband and weapons all were absent. He flushed, working his mouth for an explanation to his master's shocked stare, but none came to him. The women, for they were women behind his master, all whispered. Orochimaru stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Kabuto averted his eyes at last, as the baby began to whimper, continuing to pat his back gently.
"..."
"I see... So you knew?" His master asked him, and he looked back, raising an eyebrow.
"Knew?"
"You mean... that you didn't?" Orochimaru asked, a smile breaking his pale face. Kabuto stiffened. He didn't like being teased. Not when he was tired, looked a mess, and smelled like a baby.
"I don't know what you mean, Orochimau-sama."
"They said that you saved that baby, and that the mother is dead?" The Sannin asked, and his medic confirmed this with a nod. "...Why did you do that?" He asked, and Kabuto stiffened again. The baby burped rather unceremoniously, and Kabuto stopped patting its back. He laid it on the bed, though it whimpered.
"...I don't know."
"I see... Well, you have done me a great favor, dear boy."
"What?" The silver-haired one looked back, frowning.
"That baby is the last descendant of the Fuzarikaze-blood limit. I learned this only after tracking down the father, and disposing of him. Seems his wife was among the villagers that we had gathered, and that they were very avid about keeping the bloodline from falling into my hands." Orochimaru explained, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. "I was told that they would kill the baby to keep it from me."
"They..." Kabuto's eyes moved from his master to the baby, and back. He paled. "Who was the carrier...?" He asked, swallowing thickly.
"The mother."
Kabuto sat down on the bed, wrapping the baby in the small blanket. "..." he lifted him, holding him easily now. The Fuzarikaze... Legendary ninja of the Mist, with the ability to create terrible moisture and fog with their chakara, and then control the moisture so that it drown you even as you breathe it. That rain... He stood, moving towards his master. Orochimaru opened the door, and the four women stepped in.
"Kabuto, this is Nanai. She'll be taking care of her from here." The Sannin smirked. "If you don't mind." He added. Kabuto sighed, handing the baby over to the strong-looking woman.
"Shourai." Kabuto said.
"What?" His master asked.
"The baby is a male... I've been calling him Shourai." He said, adjusting his glasses as he turned away.
"...Very well. Nanai, take Shourai to the Oto's main village. On your life, keep him safe and healthy." Orochimaru said sharply, and the woman bowed. Kabuto could feel their eyes on him until the door closed again, and only he and his master were left. The hand on his shoulder was heavy, and he barely acknowledged it. "...Get some rest, Kabuto... You've done me a great service. We'll leave in two days, so prepare." He said, and then he warmth was gone from his skin, and the medic was alone. He walked to the small window of the room, starring out into the sunny day.
"...We will see just how lucky you are some day, Shourai."