Author's note: So, I got 21 reviews...all from spam bots telling me that my story was gonna get reported. Yay! Isn't the internet grand?


Kabuto's left hand clamps over my mouth firmly.

"Shhhh, shhhhh, it's alright." he whispers softly. "I'm only going to heal this bruise. Nothing more. Unless you want me to, that is." The last sentence is laced with sensual intent, and I blush furiously at the implication.

The hand on my forehead stops glowing and he frowns. "Hm. It seems you're immune to my healing jutsu. Interesting."

My eyes widen in fear. What the fuck was that? How did he do that? How much money has he dedicated to this fantasy?

I try and convey these emotions with my eyes as "Kabuto's" hand was still firmly on my mouth. In an attempt to remove it, I attempt to open my mouth and bite his hand but the pressure exerted on my mouth was too much for that, so I compromise by attempting to lick his gloved palm. Which, in hindsight, was a stupid fucking idea because he was wearing gloves.

"Kabuto" gets the message, and removes his hand from my mouth. "Apologies. I should have realized that a healing jutsu would seem abnormal to someone that has no chakra of her own."

I stare at him in disbelief.

"You doubt my sincerity? I genuinely do not want to harm you."

"Bullshit. You kidnapped and drugged me, okay? Your 'nice and polite act' card has been revoked."

As drugged as I currently was, I could still manage sass, apparently.

His eyebrows raise as he grins in amusement. It's not a cruel grin this time, thankfully. "I see. And what can I do to get it back, hmmm?"

"Fuck, I dunno? Give me my freedom?"

A chuckle. "Afraid that isn't on the table, Marie-chan. You are an anomaly that must be studied extensively. If you cooperate, however, there will be rewards in it for you."

I look at "Kabuto" questionably. "Such as?"

"Information about your existance. Possibly a scientific breakthrough about dimension travelling?"

"Before I submit to anything, I want proof."

"Of what?"

"That you are who you say you are. That little hand glow trick may work on some people, but it's 2018, and I'm pretty sure some really rich people can do some amazing things with technology nowadays."

"Kabuto" looks at me smugly. "Alright. How can I prove to you that I am who I say I am?"

"First of all, I want these damn drugs out of my system, alright? I want to be completely and totally me. Also, I want to think it over."

"Alright. I'll give you some time."


After a ridiculously long yet indeterminate amount of time, while the drugs were getting out of my system, I thought of several things that would convince me that I was now in fact, in the Naruto universe.

Half of me still considered the entire concept bullshit.

The other half, the 12 year old half of me, wanted it to be real. I considered Naruto to be one of my very first "fandom" obsessions and to this day I still read Naruto fanfiction, and I've even found myself keeping somewhat up to date with the Boruto anime as a guilty pleasure. But I was honestly in love with the fandom more than I was the actual story, which threw a bunch of genuinely interesting characters at an audience full of talented content creators. It was the fandom that made me fall in love with fanfiction and even though I never wrote any myself, I'd never lost that love for it.

Which lead to the question...who was this "Kabuto" and how could he prove he was who he said he was?

I had meant what I said, I was very much a Kabuto sympathizer. He had a lot of crap thrown at him and really didn't deserve to be used the way he was used. I even had a small crush on him when I was in middle school (before I found out he was a spy, of course). But once I got older, I learned about his tragic early life and what he went through during the Fourth Great Shinobi War in addition to the aftermath.

My heart kinda hurt for the guy, all things considered. If this "Kabuto" was any indication, the fact that he went from a polite caregiver, to a monologuing supervillain, and then back to polite caregiver in one conversation is evidence of a serious identity crisis.

True Kabuto or not, the guy I met needs mental stability, and damn it if I'm stuck here, we might as well find it together.

Turns out, waiting for drugs to exit your system is boring as hell. Even worse, my tiny little room didn't have a clock so I wasn't aware of how much time was passing.

The room I was currently trapped in was arranged like a hospital room/office. "My" bed was shoved in a corner along with several monitors and medical devices. A generic looking desk was placed a few feet away with a (locked) file cabinet which I assume contains "data" that "Kabuto" has collected about the "experiment."

Yes I still have a sneaking suspicion that this man is a very mentally ill, yet wealthy Naruto fanatic that has fueled his delusions with the money at his disposal and he kidnaps unsuspecting people to perform either fake human experiments or horrific body mutilations under the guise of performing human experiments.

For my sake, I'm hoping he's doing the former rather than the latter. I'd much rather be a unwilling player in a play put on by a delusional Naruto fanatic rather than the lab rat of a mentally deranged madman who also happens to be a delusional Naruto fanatic.

All things considered, he sure did look and act like Kabuto would if he were an actual living breathing person. Though, that might be the drugs talking.

Thankfully, there was an attatched bathroom with a sink and a small shower. However there weren't any sort of bathroom things, just the bare minimum. I'm assuming that this "Kabuto" wasn't expecting a "guest" at such short notice.

That was it for the room. I spent my time trying to open the locked drawers of the desk and file cabinet with a pen I found laying on the heart monitor. Once I stopped feeling all woozy, of course.

"Kabuto" was also kind enough to leave me a notepad for writing down my ideas. I get the sinking suspicion he wants me to use it as a journal so he can creep upon my innermost thoughts but you know what? Fuck him. I'mma use it to doodle and write out stupid lists. I've already made a few:

- "Top Ten places I'd rather be than trapped in here"

- "Top Eleven Naruto Characters I'd rather be stuck with than Yakushi Kabuto"

- Top Twelve Animes that I'd rather be stuck in than fuckin' Naruto

I amused myself with these lists up until the pen ran out of ink, then I paced around my cell for what felt like ages, until I finally got exhausted and passed out on the bed.


I regain consciousness and the blurry form of "Kabuto" is writing at the desk.

Rubbing my eyes, I yawn loudly to alert him of my current state of wakefulness. He looks up from his work and nods in acknowledgement.

"Good morning, Marie-san. Did you sleep well?"

I grunt noncommittally. "I guess. Where are my glasses?"

"Kabuto" reaches into his pocket and pulls out...something that I can't see. He leaves his desk to walk closer to me, holding out what seems to be a pair of new rectangle black-framed glasses.

"Your other pair seemed to be a bit worse for wear, so I had new ones made for you that matched the prescription. I hope that's alright." He smiles sheepishly, almost innocently. I narrow my eyes at him as I take the glasses and place them on my face.

"Trying to buy me off, hm?" I ask suspiciously.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Marie-san. After all, I did say that I would prove that I am who I said that I was, correct?"

"Any other presents for me, 'Kabuto'?" I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, in fact. I brought you some clean clothing. Feel free to change out of your sleepwear." He gestures to the paper bag next to the desk, picking it up and handing it to me.

I glance down at the contents, which consisted of a grey tunic and deep purple pants, i.e. the standard Oto nin uniform.

"So I don't get a purple bow? That's disappointing." I mutter dryly.

"Kabuto" chuckles. "I did provide a simple sash to tie everything together in the bottom of the bag."

I give him a look before retreating into the bathroom to change.


The clothes fit me okay, I guess. The pants were a little tight in the thigh area; thankfully the tunic was long enough for that not to be an issue.

"Kabuto" is sitting at the desk, scribbling at his notes. He gives me a once over with his eyes and shoots me a small smirk. "They suit you."

I shrug noncommittally.

"You don't agree?"

"I don't really care" I grumble as I throw myself on the bed and stare at the ceiling. "So. What kind of fun do you have planned for me today, doc?"


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