It's a Long Way Back Home

"Argh—goddammit!" I curse at my latest injury, courtesy of a blown circuit. I've had worse, but the same can't be said about the circuit. Completely fried. It'll have to be replaced. And who's going to have to replace it? That's right. Me. I let out a long suffering groan, and my forehead slams against the gadget littered worktable as frustration and sleep deprivation conspire and finally make me lose the will to keep it upright. I'm long past due for new materials, and do you have any idea who I have to ask for them? No? Yeah, you don't want to. Let's just say my boss is a little less than understanding.

After a long moment of trying not to cry, I find it in me to lift my aching bones out of my work chair and begin to drag myself towards the door, but stop as I notice the tremor in my burnt hand as I reach towards the knob. It's not from the wound though, and I close my eyes briefly, mentally criticizing myself for the hesitance but I do it so often that the scalding words are like a chorus in my head—solid, familiar, a ringing that I can just barely hear anymore. But it's enough, and I change my course for my adjoined living quarters, headed straight for the bathroom. If I'm going to do this, I'm going in armed, and mentally prepared.

After washing my face raw until there's finally some color in my pallid cheeks and I'm as awake as I can possibly be—nothing I can do about the massive dark circles—I glare at my reflection sternly. "You can do this. You've done it before. It's not that hard. Don't let him walk all over you. He might be the boss, but you're indispensable, and he knows it." I pause and my glare falters as I take in the feeble looking girl in the mirror. "I can be intimidating..." With another once over, and a long sigh, I can't lie to myself anymore. I'm as ready as I can possibly be.

After fixing the disaster that is my hair, customarily consisting of two long, fire brick red pigtails, I head towards the door with as much purpose in my stride as I can muster—in other words, I have to force every step and resist the urge to go hide somewhere. I pause at the door again, and take a deep breath before reaching towards the knob and—the door is nearly thrown open on top of me. Good thing I've learned to be quick on my feet during the last couple of years, otherwise it would've smashed my face in.

As it is, I'm left standing there in a fight or flight stance, gaping at the boy in the doorway until I blurt out, "What the fuck, Kimimoro!? Knocking! That's a thing, you know! What if I was naked!?"

His odd colored eyes, impassive as ever, scan me with blatant disinterest and answer my question for me. No doubt, absolutely zero fucks would be given. We both know it. And so the implication, and any unnecessary banter is compartmentalized, and promptly ignored in favor of getting to the point. You can say it's the only quality about Kimimoro that I actually like. "We're going to war."

I blink, once, twice, then reply faintly with an unintelligent, "...Oh." There's a long silence where the two of us just stare at each other until the creepiness seeps in and I blurt out, "Well, what happens now?"

He briefly eyes the room behind me, dim, and cluttered with snakelike wires tangled upon the floor and taped to the walls, half assembled devices, and computer screens blinking out of the darkness...then they flick back to me, with my bruise-like dark circles, and clothes that hang on my frame like sacks. After a pause he notes, "You've been working hard for Orochimaru-sama all this time, haven't you, Ming? You've done well."

My brow arches at the suspicious praise and I remark dubiously, "You know just as well as I do that I'm just out for myself. Orochimaru can have whatever he wants from me as long as I get what I want. That's always been the condition, so don't make it sound like I'm here because I want to be..."

His eyes seem to flash for a second, and it reminds me just how dangerous he can really be. Just because he's not allowed to kill me, doesn't mean he can't be a royal pain in the ass if he really puts his mind to it. Something's got him acting weird—different from the pretentious dick he normally is—and I don't like it. It puts me even more on edge when he says in a quiet voice, "I'm sorry to hear that..."

Finally, I narrow my eyes and demand, "Cut the shit. The Kimimoro I know isn't one to 'dance' around the subject. You're not acting normal. So either dispel the illusion, tell me what the hell you want, or get the fuck out. Whatever the case, make it quick, because I've got to go ask Orochimaru for more materials and he's not going to be happy about it. I've got no time to deal with you on top of it, Kid." By the end of my little spiel I realize I'm shouting, and I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose with frustration. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scream at you. It's just...my deadline's coming up quicker than I anticipated—"

"All deadlines are on hold for the time being," he tells me abruptly. "All Orochimaru-sama's projects are being put on pause, and all expenses are being put towards the war effort. Therefore asking for more materials will be useless."

"Oh," I say again, quieter this time. "Well, thanks for the heads up, I guess... But again, that doesn't seem like you." I eye him suspiciously. "What does he expect me to do in the meantime?"

"That's not his problem," he answers in reply.

"So, what? You're saying I'm fired?" I throw up my hands in frustration. "Well that's just great! How the hell am I supposed to get home now?!"

He gives me a look that seems to indicate the normal amount of fucks he gives about anything which is, again, absolutely zero. But then he speaks in that toneless voice of his, robotically, in a way that makes me stop dead in my endless pacing. "Orochimaru-sama has left it up to me to decide what to do with you."

I stare at him blankly, a fist tightening around my heart. "...What do you mean 'decide what to do with me'?"

He stares back just as blankly. "It means that you're too much of an asset to be left on your own. Since you are useless in a war, and can't do anything but take up resources until it's over, it means that you have very few options left to choose from at the moment."

Still frozen solid, I murmur, "...What options?"

"Option one," he recites mechanically, "find a way to become useful."

After a long moment of silence, I whisper, "...What's option two?"

His eyes are impossible to read, giving me nothing as he makes the fatal declaration, "I kill you." After a suitable pause in which all color drains from my face, he states in a tone that could almost be pleasant, "You have thirty minutes to change my mind." At which point he turns and walks soundlessly down the hall like a ghost until I can no longer make him out in the dim light.


Let me emphasize the point that this story is NOT meant to be an OC/Kimimoro fic. Their relationship is 'interesting,' but it is not a pairing. Just thought I'd let you know before you start fangirling.

This scene takes place at least two years into the series, after Ming and her three brothers get warped to the Narutoverse and consequentially separated, scattered each to different corners of the continent. If I continue it's going to be updated in non-time-specific fashion, and fluctuating between points of view between the siblings Ming (aka Hanah-Ming Lee), Tobi (aka Toby Lee), Kou (aka Cody Lee), and Kai (aka Kyle Lee). So, for example, while this chapter will be all about 'Ming,' (age fifteen) two years into the plot, the next chapter will be all about Kyle (age ten), and it takes place two years prior to the first chapter, explaining all about how they got dimension warped. Incidentally, Kyle is obsessed with the Naruto series prior to the warp, Hanah-Ming is obsessed with electronics and gadgets and taking things apart, Toby, the second oldest, is obsessed with Call of Duty, video games, and blowing shit up, and Cody, the oldest, is a silent rebel type-always in trouble for reasons no one can tell-and likes older women, but has shit luck with romance and life in general.

So, there's the rundown. Tell me if you want me to continue.