Disclaimer: No surprises here. I own a few OCs, and they're pretty spottable. Everything else is the intelectual property of Masashi Kishimoto.
A/N - I can honestly say that this is the story I never thought I would write. It's not even the kind of story I would usually read, but you know what - I'm in love with it. So thank you for giving it a chance. :)
Relevant information: Sasuke's about 14 years old, plot takes place during his training with Orochimaru. 'Sabiiro' would translate as 'Rusty' (colour), or so Internet claims.
If you'd like a reading-soundtrack, I recommend "Good Bye Lenin OST". Not only is the movie really good - the music is amazing. 'Watching Lara' inspired the whole story in the first place. Okay, I'm done.
1. Chestnuts
Wet twigs made a sick, mushy sound under the sole of his shoe. He could almost imagine moisture penetrating the hard texture of his heel, working its way up through invisible cracks in the metal and reaching the core of the thing that had replaced his right leg several years ago. He couldn't tell just how many years had passed.
The air was cold, but not uncomfortable. It playfully pinched the parts of him that could still feel the late autumn's bite. His left hand was chapped-red, but he wasn't about to complain. He would choose a blizzard under the real sky over the stuffy stench of warm, torch-lit chambers in a heartbeat.
He didn't mind being outside. If only Shun weren't such a funny guy.
'Send a one-armed man to get the firewood. Such a card, that one', his thoughts were dry.
'You can go, Sabiiro. And be careful not to catch rust. ... Funny, funny guy. Smart, too', he bent over squishy leaves, ferreting out broken branches that would sooner turn liquid than catch fire.
'Well, smart enough to become the leader. Hey, Sabiiro, why don't you suck up to Four-Eyes? You could get your very own molester squad in no time.'
He grunted as a particularly thick branch refused to leave the mud-cake. It gave out with a sucking sound after he imagined it to be a living part of his 'senpai'.
It seemed Shun could never run out of the 'metal-man' material. Or various puns revolving around Sabiiro's nickname.
It was a stupid nickname. The metal parts of his body were fire-proof, water-proof and rust-resistant. Four-Eyes saw to that. Not for his health's sake, of course. It simply wouldn't pay off if such an experiment failed due to basic neglect. Yet, 'Sabiiro' stuck. He wondered if Shun ever learned his real name.
For a moment, he couldn't remember it himself.
It slowly swam out from the foggy depths of his mind. Souta. It had been Souta.
The scary part was that he wasn't all that troubled about losing it for a moment. In essence, it belonged to another man. Someone younger, and whole.
The twigs began to slip from under his metal armpit, and Sabiiro caught them with his red, human hand. An image of bearing down on Shun's cowering figure flashed in his mind. The sense of shoving the thin barrel which had taken up his right hand's place into the man's mouth and feeding him a few chakra blasts. Or shooting (or ripping) off the guy's arms and saying: "Hey, Shun. How about getting firewood?"
An unconscious smile soon faded.
Yeah, that's what he was. All talk. He was six feet two, weighed 220 pounds and had an arsenal attached to his body. He could snap Shun in two if he put his mind to it, but he knew well enough that he never would. Toothless dogs bark, don't bite.
And he was past the effort.
The already meek sunlight was quickly losing what little warmth it could offer. The dull yellow circle was making its descent. He should probably hurry if they wanted to make camp before the night settled. Sabiiro (who was once Souta) walked deeper into the forest, searching for a dry spot.
The memory of his former name dampened his already lousy mood. It brought back questions he thought he had resolved long ago. They were naggy little pests, which had a way of cocooning inside a man even when he knew perfectly well they would cause him nothing but misery and indigestion.
(what would your life be like if...)
(where would you now be if...)
Sabiiro blinked hard and grunted to himself. Nonsense. He grabbed a mossy piece of wood and shook off a dangling spider. Nonsense. Rubbish. Poppycock.
The pile of wood almost slipped from him again, but the left hand automatically caught the escapees. A curious wave of cold butterflies washed over him while his heart drummed against a partly metal ribcage.
Poppycock.
'I haven't thought about it in years. It sprang up together with Souta. Funny how all these things jump on a man all at once.'
Probably had to do with all the chestnut trees around him.
The village he used to live in was surrounded with chestnut trees. They still held a little magic over him. He remembered pulling pranks with their unopened pointy burrs. If memory served well, he would plant them under his sister's bed covers, and she would always chase him around the yard afterwards.
'Oi, Sabiiro. You don't wanna go there.' He shook his head. 'Just don't.'
The wind was steadily growing stronger. He should probably head back. It wasn't like he didn't gather anything (he spared the sad, soggy pile a dubious look).
Just that... he wasn't ready to part with the scenes which the woods stirred to life. The pain was bittersweet.
Telling himself not to think of Satoyo ('Sabiiro, don't. You'll only make yourself worse'), he began a slow stroll deeper into the shadowy forest, convincing himself that the light was still good and that he could prolong his search for fuel.
'I wonder what she's doing right now? Has she married that guy? (Stop it. You know where it'll lead you.)'
He stopped inspecting the ground.
'Did she stay in Kuroguma or did she move elsewhere? She always wanted to live in a bigger place. And did she (there we go...) take Koemi with her?'
Something clutched his heart with sharp, pointy nails. He knew it would. He had allowed himself to think of the one name that was supposed to be buried beyond the point of excavation. He had to sit down now.
Sabiiro threw himself down on a damp tree trunk, letting the wood-pile slip from his hold. His heart sniffled and moaned, and he waited for it to stop.
For the first time after several years of tight control, an image of a little girl, darkhaired and big-eyed, wedged behind his shut eye-lid.
Koemi.
I wish I was dead for real.
The thought rhythmically pulsed in his mind as the evening shadows slowly extended over prostrate logs and shriveling leaves. After some time, Sabiiro sniffled and brushed the corner of his good eye with his thumb. Sure enough, it was damp.
'Alright. Enough of that, you pussy.' He quickly picked up the discarded branches and stood up. 'Time for a reality check. But you know... This place does look awfully familiar.'
He was about to turn around when the last thought caught on. Really caught on. Sabiiro glanced around at the wide tree trunks and moss-covered rocks. It wasn't possible.
It wasn't possible.
If he was by any coincidence where he thought he was, there had to be a forest brook not far away to the east, and that was impossible. But Sabiiro still started walking, barely aware of picking up speed.
Upon hearing a faint sound of gurgling water, he broke into an all-out run.
In a manner of minutes, Sabiiro (who was now dangerously close to considering himself Souta again) stood before a shallow flow of dark, glittering water. Orange leaves travelled down the brook's course like some small colourful armada.
His knees threatened to buckle in front of a sight from his childhood.
'This is not good.'
Sabiiro stood before a miracle, experiencing a nasty onset of panic.
How was it possible that Snake-Eyes' hideout, in which he spent last six months, stood so close to Kuroguma's area? How was it possible that he didn't notice it until that day?
Step back.
'It's getting late. You have to head back. You can't have Shun getting suspicious.'
Sabiiro hated himself in a second. He could practically feel Snake-Eyes' leash tighten around his neck.
Getting afraid wasn't normal. Was he honestly that broken in his head?!
'Yes, Sabiiro. They fixed you up. And there's a good reason why you're this way. So turn around and think up an excuse for Shun.'
"Move", he whispered to himself.
But both the human and the metal leg seemed to have taken roots in the ground. A strange fancy caught onto him.
What would it be like if he crossed the brook and went just a little further into the territory?
'That's crazy! ... They'd catch me in a second.'
Except they wouldn't, of course. The truth was that defying Snake-Eyes was inconceivable. It was something people didn't do.
Seeing the brook and the chestnuts was nice, and he'll definitely have something to think about once he gets back to his cell-room. Trying to make a run for it would be a mad man's move.
Reluctantly, Sabiiro turned his back to the water. His gaze landed on the darkening cluster of trees up ahead.
After half a minute, the man dropped the pile of wood and dashed across the narrow stream. He ran deeper into the chestnut forest at a crazy pace, more to create a distance from himself than from the soon-to-be persecutors.
Kabuto heard a shout and a distinct sound of electric discharge, so he paused in front of the shut door of the underground dojo. He let himself in only after hearing a meaty sound of flesh hitting the hard stone tiles. Orochimaru glanced in his direction, while Sasuke quickly jumped to his feet, trying to mask panting breath behind an ice-cold gaze. Kabuto allowed himself a small smirk before sobering up and pushing back his glasses.
He disliked bringing Orochimaru bad news.
"What is it, Kabuto-kun?" Judging by the excited thrill in the Sannin's voice, it had been a good training session. Little could lighten up Orochimaru's mood these days like Sasuke's innovative ways of losing spars.
Kabuto resisted the urge to adjust his glasses once more.
"Orochimaru-sama, I'm afraid the news isn't good. One of our task-forces is reported missing. It is believed he attempted escape."
Orochimaru returned his eyes on Sasuke. "Is that all? You're wasting my time."
"I apologize, Orochimaru-sama, but the missing man is of some importance to you. He is Sabiiro from the Test Squad."
A spark of interest lit up the pale man's tapered eyes. "The one with metal parts, eh?"
"Hai. You can see why I couldn't send the tracking team after him. I wanted to ask your permission to leave and hunt him down myself." Kabuto sighed, showing displeasure with the time-consuming task.
"No."
Kabuto looked up.
"You see, Kabuto, young Sasuke-kun believes he has made much progress. I'd like to test that."
Sasuke calmly met Orochimaru's gaze. His eyes were cold and unreadable.
"Sasuke-kun. We will put your tracking abilities on trial. Your mission will be to catch this man and bring him back, dead or alive, whatever suits you best."
The Sannin's purple tongue crawled between his teeth and licked his thin, pale lips.
