-1 If that kunai wasn't thrown by Jiraiya…if Naruto wasn't there…if he had his perfect chance…would Kabuto have done it? Based on anime 91, I think.

Things were always a little hazy for me whenever Tsunade was missing from the equation. I'd been her assistant for so long that I functioned as badly without her as she did without me. She was the constant in my life that I needed to keep me stable, no matter how much work I had to put into it. When she was around, I had a purpose.

So needless to say, my emotions were a little out of wack when I woke up that morning, a dull, aching pain spearing through my torso from the blow she'd sent my way that night.

I breathed in slowly, evaluating the damage. It didn't feel like much, but I'd have to be careful. As a medically trained kunoichi, I knew that movement when injured should always be limited.

But as Tsunade's only assistant, I knew I didn't always have the option of lying still, either.

I rolled over and pushed myself to my knees, then feet, holding onto the bed for support. The world spun a little faster for a moment, but I was able to shake back the dizziness. It's just from getting up too fast, I told myself. You're fine.

I looked around the two bed-room room that had held myself, Tsunade, and Naruto when I'd fallen.

I was alone.

"Naruto-kun?" There was no reply; I searched for a moment, but it was entirely in vain, and I knew that. He was gone, but it wasn't my duty to search for him. Tsunade was my duty, and if I remembered correctly…

…she'd gone to find Orochimaru.

"We don't need an answer right away, but we'd like one within a week." The words rang in my head, inciting a degree of panic I had never felt before. What day was it? I couldn't have slept more than a day, could I?

I looked around for Ton-Ton, but he was missing, and I didn't have time to search for him. The window was to my left; I ran to it, knowing it would be quicker than trying to take the stairs.

Well, that's what I thought, but when the kunai flashed across my vision, silver in the morning sunlight, and embedded itself in the wall an inch from my head, I wished I'd taken the stairs.

"You're…you're…" I stared at the silver-haired ninja crouched on a balcony across the street for a moment, eyeing the kunai swinging on his index finger, then narrowed my eyes. "You are Orochimaru's subordinate."

He moved without answer, coming forward so quickly that I was almost a second late in dodging his second kunai.

"Where's Tsunade?" I barked, retreating into the room and pulling his kunai out of the wall as he blocked the window.

"Shizune-san," he said, a scalpel in one hand and a set of three shuriken in the other, "this is our battle. Tsunade-sama won't be here to help you." A tiny smirk twisted his lips up.

"I don't need any help with you!" I roared, holding the kunai in front of me in a defensive position. Ah well; he knew as well as I that my words were nothing but a bluff. I was in a fix, disoriented, and sore. Damn, Tsunade hit hard.

"I'm sorry I can't take my time," he said, his smirk growing. "I need to get back to Orochimaru-sama."

"Where's Tsunade?" I growled again, my panic decreasing into one part furry. "Did she meet with Orochimaru?"

"Shouldn't you already know this, Shizune-san?" he asked, his voice clear and calm and empty. "You are her assistant, after all."

"Do you know where she is?" I asked, my voice no more than a hiss. He eyed me for a moment, his eyes entirely blocked by the reflective light.

"Shizune-san, do you know what day it is?" He straightened up and pushed his glass further up on his nose, but the light still made it difficult to see through the glass. I lowered my chin and glared till my eyes were no more than slits. With a strength I didn't know I had, I calmed my breathing. He knew I was alarmed; I couldn't afford to give him that upper hand.

"I don't care about what day it is," I said. "Get out of my way."

"Where will you go?" he asked. "You have no idea where Tsunade is."

"Bastard," I spat. "I'll find her." I threw my kunai at him, but he easily blocked it with his scalpel .

"Not if she's dead," he said, tossing the shuriken at me with an almost lazy-like grace. I ducked one and deflected the others with a kunai pulled out of my robe.

"I'm not worried about that!" I laughed, though his words made it feel like there was a sudden cavity in my chest, and my heart was falling through it. "Now get out of my way, for the last time."

"No," he said, dropping his hands to his sides. "Shizune-san, where is Tsunade-sama?"

I stared at him for a moment, my eyes wide.

"You…you…" I hissed in frustration. "I don't have time for this!" I said; though in truth, I wondered how the minute or so he spent messing with me was going to change anything. Unless something drastic happened, and soon, I was dead.

"Do you have an appointment to keep?" he asked, looking faintly amused.

"Get the hell out of my way!" I screamed, pulling back my sleeve and shooting three of the five poisoned needles at him.

He reacted before I could move again, dodging the needles, leaping from the window, and landing a foot in front of me. My kunai crash against his scalpel, but he still had the kunai in his other hand. Then it was at my throat, and I was dead.

Well, I should have been.

But he just stared at me, eyes somewhat hazy.

"Give me a reason to not kill you," he demanded, pressing the kunai in harder. It took me a moment to realize that the amount of hot blood trickling down my skin was too little for him to have cut a major artery.

"I don't have one," I hissed, letting my panic condense into anger. His eyes widened slightly.

"Aren't you going to beg?" he asked, voice still empty.

"Huh," I snorted. "Bastard." His eyes narrowed dangerously; he pulled the knife back further, slicing more skin open. The pain shot through me, but it was nothing but a surface cut, despite the blood that flowed down my neck and into the white and blue of my kimono. I felt the sticky warmth spread, the fire in my neck grow. The pain helped me clear my mind. My thought process slowed down to where I could acknowledge each individual notion.

1) Tsunade was gone and probably in danger.

2) This man was supposed to kill me, but hesitating.

3) I had two poison needles left.

With all that I had, I flung the trembling hand that held my kunai against his scalpel out, twisting the knife in a way that sent both our blades flying. My left arm flashed up, the string to control the needles floating in the air for a split second; I caught it in my teeth, causing his knife to cut deeper as I moved my head.

Our eyes locked for a moment, and the movement was so startling that for a moment, I was thrown off balance again. Maybe he saw the change come over my eyes; maybe he sensed my confusion. Maybe I was lightheaded from blood loss. But for a moment, my arm, placed like a wall in between us, shook. The knife held at my neck receded out of my flesh till it simply rested on the surface, ready to cause more damage.

"Kill me, then," he said,

"You first," I whispered irrationally. He frowned. "You can't dodge this close," I said, trying to steady my breathing again. "And if you slide the knife in further, I'll jerk, even as I die, and you'll be hit."

"So either you kill me now or I kill you and then you kill me?" he asked, sounding a little puzzled.

"Or you surrender," I said.

"We both know that's not necessary," he whispered. And of course, I knew before the cold ice of a kunai was in my stomach that I was still dead. My poison needles never even flew; the string fell fro my mouth as I leaned forward, choking for breath. My head spun wildly; my limbs froze, and I fell forward.

He caught me by the shoulders and lowered me to my knees.

"Please do not interfere," he said. "I would dislike having to kill you." I barely heard his words and surely did not comprehend them. After all, I was already dead, the metallic smell of blood surrounded us, making me feel nauseous. I gagged and retched, somehow managing to miss him. All that came up was stomach bile, with the taint of blood.

He pulled me up by the shoulders when I was finished, lifting one hand to my face. My view was limited by the black hairs that had fallen around my eyes, but his hand held a small black pill which he brought to my lips, then forced inside.

"That will stop the blood flow," he said. "Swallow it." I was too weak to comply; he pressed down hard on my windpipe, causing me to reflexively swallow. The pressure of his thumb against my throat was more intense than the pain in my stomach; then he removed his hand.

"Heal yourself, if you can," he said, sliding his hands underneath my arms. For a moment, I had another dizzying spin as he lifted me up one of the empty beds, my blood dripping onto the green bedspread. "Goodbye, Shizune-san," he said, wiping his bloody hands on the blanket.

"Bastard," I choked, trying to get my breath back.

"It's Kabuto. Yakushi Kabuto," he said as he turned away. I took a breath to try to speak. "Hush," he ordered. "You should begin healing, or you'll die." I subconsciously agreed, but that knowledge wasn't enough to keep me from passing out.

It would have been so easy to kill her. I knew that. But the good things in life were always the things you have to work for. And I believed that a Shizune-san in debt to me was better than a dead Shizune-san. Anyways, there would have been a slight degree of difficulty involved in sending those wide, black eyes into eternal vacancy, to ensure I never heard that shrill bark calling me a bastard again, to take away from Tsunade-sama what to her was what I was to Orochimaru-sama.

Maybe we'd meet again. Maybe we wouldn't. I'd given her the chance to stay alive. How she used it was up to her.

Now to Orochimaru-sama…