Author's note: Heeeey guys! Long time no seeee! This is a complete rewrite of "I Don't See Any Appeal to This" with a new title and a completely different plot (complete with a new leading man!) Also, hopefully less embarrassing to read. I wrote myself in a corner last time and this time I have a clear rough plot outline. So there is a severe lack of fics featuring Kabuto and I find that absolutely shameful. I may be the only one who finds this shameful but whatever. Probably because he's a bit weird to write. I tried to maintain his healing nature mixed with his sadistic curiosity and (of course) thirst for power. I've been watching the Fourth War arc and dear lord if he just had a friend or a girlfriend or something before he took the path of no return he wouldn't have turned out this way. Enter bookish anomaly girl. Perfect.

Also the language barrier I found so hard to write could've been easily fixed by just making English the official language of one of the Great Nations. Duh. Goodbye magical language fixings! I made Kabuto fluent because he spent a shit load of time in Earth country (where coincidentally is where his "mother" tried to kill him) this also makes characters like Deidara also fluent.

Chapter 1

Forestland

I've never considered myself to be an "outdoorsy" sort of person. Sure, nature is a beautiful and wonderful gift that should be treasured and preserved for those who wish to experience nature in its purest form as long as they wish. People like my father believe that everyone should spend at least thirty minutes a day in the throes of nature, no matter how terrible the heat index or humidity get. Those who disagree and prefer to live their lives in temperatures under 80 degrees Fahrenheit are labeled as no-life, overweight depressed trolls; though I'm pretty sure he only thinks of me in that way.

I've gotten off topic. I could brood about my piss poor family situation later. At that moment, I was in a forest. A very thick and deep forest that looked nothing like the forest behind my house. For one, there was a severe lack of "No Trespassing" signs that I always ignored.

For another, the terrain looks as if it had not been maintained for hiking. I also don't remember falling asleep in the forest, which is where I found myself at that moment.

I blink in confusion as I surveyed my surroundings.

Actually, I don't even remember falling asleep. If I was asleep, I wouldn't have been wearing pajama shorts, socks or (thank Jesus) my glasses.

I clean my glasses with the hem of my gray tank top as if it would make any difference in my location. Nope, still in Forestland.

Thankfully, the weather was perfect with a nice cool breeze blowing through the trees. I lower my head to gaze at my pink fuzzy socks that were now soiled by the ground. Oh well, I guess they'll have to do for foot protection.

Without proper shoes, my hiking distance was severely limited due to my lack of arch support.

I estimated my distance limit would depend on how much my feet could take without giving out.

Logically, there was bound to be civilization in any direction I walked, if I didn't die of starvation or dehydration before I found help.

I mentally slap myself. That's quitter talk. Even if I was on a vast wildlife preserve, there was bound to be rangers or something.

In America, every scrap of land is owned or maintained by someone. Ah, the benefits of living in a capitalistic, post industrial society.

If I had lived anywhere but Northwest Louisiana, I would have been worried that no one would find me before death by the elements eventually took me. There are no mountains to lose myself in and in every forest a road is bound to be nearby.

I chuckle. I'd be rescued in no time.

Two hours later I was singing a different tune. My feet hurt, I had tripped over about half a dozen rocks and I was starving.

My hair, which I had attempted to keep in place with a stick I had found, admittedly had worked for awhile but didn't stop blobs of sweaty hair from sticking to my body.

I was desperate enough to wish for a pair of scissors so I could chop off my lovely long reddish brown hair that I worked so hard to grow. I was probably due for a trim anyway.

My feet were about to give out from exhaustion, but my stomach pains persisted and I found myself continuing to journey in hopes of finding any sort of civilization.

My brain had ceased to function properly as it does when not properly nourished.

Maybe if I wasn't so blinded by hunger, I would have noticed the gigantic rock my foot hit that forced me to fall to the ground, except this time instead of catching myself, the ground was too steep for me to maintain my balance and I fell down the slope until my head hit yet another rock that knocked me unconscious.

In my 25 years of life, I had never fainted or knocked unconscious.

Honestly it was something I was glad to never have experienced. I tendto stay out of any trouble that would cause me any physical harm, minus the 'toe hairline fracture ' incident of 2014.

Being knocked unconscious felt as if I was forced asleep for an indeterminate amount of time.

Except when you wake up, you get this headache which feels like the most painful hangover headache in existence, minus the trademark hangover tongue numbness.

When I open my eyes, I was no longer in the forest. I was a dimly lit room, and missing my glasses. I rub my eyes and temples. I contemplate sitting up to assess my surroundings but the throbbing in my head and feet protested this decision.

I ignore the pain the best I could so I could push myself up using my elbows. Suddenly, a man appears at my bedside. He pushes me back on the bed lightly as he mutters something in another language.

He hands me a remote with one of those little buttons that I assume could lift the bed into a sitting position. I press the button, and that's exactly what it did. I smiled weakly and turn to face the man who I assume saved my life.

He looks to be about my age, give or take a few years. Despite his young face, the long hair that he kept in a low ponytail was an unusual silver color. He wears large round glasses that honestly worked for him in a cute, nerdy sort of way. He kind of reminded me of a character in Naruto, Kabuto.

Ah, memories. Kabuto was actually one of my favorites, despite the fact he was a dirty traitor and worked for a creepy pedophile. Still, I always found him to be an interesting and relatable character.

"W-what I didn't catch that?" I mumbled. "Kabuto" smirked.

"I said, don't sit up. Use the controls." he advises in near perfect English.

There was a hint of an accent but it was hard to catch if you weren't paying attention.

Which I was.

"Mmkay. My head's killing me. Where am I?"

"Orochimaru-sama's hideout" he answers

"...bullshit."

"I'm sorry, what?"

And that's when I lost it.

I start cackling uncontrollably. Oh my GOD I was just saved from certain death by a couple of freaking LARPers.

"Kabuto" gapes at me until I stopped laughing.

"So. You're telling me. I'm in the hideout of the great Snake Sannin. Lemme guess. Your name is Kabuto Yakushi. I call bullshit."

The urge to continue laughing was hard to resist, but somehow I did by controlling my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Don't laugh. In. Out.

"Kabuto" gives me a bewildered expression. Obviously he was caught off guard by my acknowledgement of him.

"Uh, yes. That's my name. Why don't you believe that you are where I say you are?" he asks.

I roll my eyes. Of course I was rescued by a crazy person.

"Orochimaru and Kabuto are fictional characters. I'm saying there is no way in hell you are who you say you are." I speak slowly, as if I were speaking to a child. "Look kid, I'm not into the whole Live Action Role Playing thing. I appreciate the rescuing and the treatment, but I refuse to play along with your Naruto Shippuden LARPing routine. So, what's your real name, hm?"

"Kabuto" mouths the word LARPing and I thought he was going to ask me what it meant but I think the mention of Naruto's name made him reconsider and save his question for another time.

Instead he chuckles. "I guess you hit your head pretty hard. Alright, since you refuse to acknowledge your surroundings, I feel inclined to ask you some questions. Just standard head injury stuff."

"Mmkay Doc. May I call you Doc?" I ask.

"It's fitting, I suppose." he mutters, procuring a notebook and pen from his lab jacket pocket. "Alright. What is your full name?"

"Marie Anne Baxter."

"Age?"

"Twenty-five."

"Birthday?"

"May 26th, 1991."

"Blood type?"

"A negative."

And it went on like this for awhile. "Kabuto" asked me the standard post head trauma questions followed by several Naruto themed questions. At those, I would roll my eyes and refuse to answer.

Surprisingly, he didn't react to my refusal. Instead he would give me a blank stare and scribble something in his notebook and continue on to the next question.

Afterwards, "Kabuto" closes the notebook and pulls a pill bottle out of his lab jacket pocket.

"Here, take these." he directs, taking two small white pills from the bottle and holding them out to me.

"Please tell me that's Ibu Profien." I gushes, taking the pills from his hand.

"Ibu..what?" he mutters as he hands me a glass of water from the bedside table.

"Ibu Profien. Pain meds" I swallow the pills with the glass of water, silently praying that he didn't put anything weird in the pills.

Canon Kabuto was excellent at healing but he was a bit of a mad scientist. Hopefully fake!Kabuto ignored this character trait to help a girl in need.

"Oh..well. I suppose you could call them that." "Kabuto" drawls, a sinister smirk forming on his face.

The pain slowly starts ebbing away and I actually felt as if I would be able to stand...but once I try to stand, the world immediately goes black.

Author's note: This is the Kabuto/OC SI fic no one asked for. I'm actually rather proud of it to be honest, despite the lack of feedback I've gotten for it.

I'm in dire need of a beta at the moment, so if you're interested, please contact me

Edited 7 May 2017: word changes;format changes. I got a fancy writing app to try.