Masashi Kishimoto owns the Naruto and you know it.
Kabuto staggered through the door of his rather small, cold, generic room. He immediately flopped onto the small bed, not bothering to get under the covers. Led-laden eyelids sealed weary pupils in a black even darker than the usual drear of his private quarters. He was so tired. He hadn't even taken the time to get out of his blood crusted clothes. He was more than tired. He was exhausted. Why did he have to go on that ridiculous mission anyway? Any of the other Sound jounin could have easily accomplished it. He swore Orochimaru-sama got off on killing him with busy work for absolutely no reason. Damn snake.
Just as the sulking nin came to the edge of consciousness, he sensed an all-too-familiar chakra signature approaching. Kabuto remained motionless as he heard the door open and shut, footfalls sounding closer and closer to where he lay.
"Kabuto," Orochimaru spoke his name slowly, caressing each syllable, soft and sensuous silk to his subordinate's somnolent ears.
"Hai Orochimaru-sama," Kabuto answered, though he was already half-asleep.
The snake master smiled at the conditioned response and licked his lips in anticipation. He did so love to play with semi-conscious Kabuto. If only the medic knew the real reason for why he was always pushing him past his limits… kukuku…