Days passed.
Orochimaru's condition worsened by the hour, and it was everything Kabuto could do to keep it from going farther downwards. He had battled with the Shinigami that threatened Orochimaru's life now for seven and a half days, and his master still lay in agony. At first, Orochimaru had done nothing but scream until Kabuto knocked him out with more sedative than was potentially safe. The second, third, and fourth days were the best: Orochimaru was used to the pain, and was able to perform basic tasks without such intense pain that he lost control. But then, on the fifth day, his condition simply took a nosedive. Kabuto had found him that morning absolutely spent, barely able to keep himself awake. Kabuto had promptly put him to sleep, and begun work on some medication. This had quieted Orochimaru for some time, but Kabuto was fighting a losing battle. The sixth day, Orochimaru was hardly any worse, but he was certainly not better. And now, the seventh day, Kabuto was struggling with death itself.
"Orochimaru-sama, please, if you can hold still for a moment, I could get this into your system and-"
"I don't…need…your useless sedatives!!" Orochimaru screamed, back arching as another terrible scream burst from his throat. Kabuto grabbed Orochimaru's shoulders, pinning him down and jamming a needle into his flushed skin. As Kabuto injected the liquid, he took note again of the decay of Orochimaru's arms. It was certainly getting worse, but it didn't seem to be spreading outside of the area it had been in on the first day. Orochimaru let loose another cry of pain, and Kabuto could see pure agony etched into every one of his features. His face was damp with sweat, and his skin was clammy from the fever ravaging his body. His arms lay, useless and motionless next to him, slightly spasming every now and then as the nerves were destroyed. Orochimaru's long ebony hair was tangled and spread out around him like a demonic halo, some of it cast into his face like tendrils of darkness, creeping over his psyche and threatening to steal him from the living, conscious world. In a way, Kabuto wished that very darkness would take them both to the heaven that existed beyond even the fathoms of imagination, and they would never have to deal with all of this ever again. All Kabuto wanted was for the peace to return to Orochimaru's eyes…he had been so distraught lately.
Ever since the curse had been inflicted upon Orochimaru, the sannin's face had never been peaceful. Even when he was deep in sleep, his dreams tortured him with images of the Shinigami that threatened his very existence. Kabuto would come in and Orochimaru would be asleep, and his face was contorted, even in slumber, with the terror and agony of his curse to bear. It was all Kabuto could do to sit him with him, cradling his unconscious form in his arms, stroking his hair, whispering sweet, unheard nothings-and yet, it calmed Orochimaru, to feel the touch of another, grounding him. But it was never peace that crossed the sannin's face. It was something close to, resembling, but never quite, peace. Peace was something rarely found on Orochimaru's face, anyway, but now….now, it seemed Orochimaru could never find rest.
Kabuto was almost brought to tears at the sight before him: Orochimaru, the greatest of the sannin, brought low by a being not even of the flesh. The trickery of an ancient fool who sought his master's life! Kabuto knew that something had to be done: but the only thing left to do was to have Orochimaru switch bodies. And Orochimaru would refuse to do so unless it was Sasuke's body he was transferring into. He was out of options. The only thing left to do was convince Orochimaru that he needed to transfer…before it was too late.
"Orochimaru-sama," Kabuto murmured, gently lowering one hand to his master's ebony locks, swirling like the purest darkness that enveloped his darkened soul. Orochimaru hissed in warning at the contact from Kabuto's hand, but surprisingly, did not seek to fight off the comfort of Kabuto's hand. Instead, he merely turned his head away, as if this was merely a half-hearted attempt to salvage his reputation of never allowing any such comforts. Kabuto simply sat for a moment, waiting to see if Orochimaru would further protest his hand. Still, the sannin made no movement to shake him off, and so Kabuto decided to take it one more step ahead. His hand began to slowly move through Orochimaru's hair, gently stroking the silky strands of hair, all laying perfectly on top of one another. Strangely, Orochimaru remained still. Kabuto gave him a concerned glance; had he passed out, or something? No, he was still very much awake. His face twisted in pain, his teeth clenched tightly in an effort not to scream, his eyes closed with the pain…Kabuto felt his heart jump into his throat, as if tugged by invisible threads. Kabuto swallowed it down, though, trying not to show his emotions. Shinobi Rule number twenty-five…never show your emotion. How often Kabuto had sacrificed to obey that rule! How often had sacrifice caused him to disobey that rule! And how often he had had to sacrifice because he had disobeyed that rule…but now, he swore, it was going to be different. He had to do something to try to lessen the pain…only if it was the smallest of things.
Kabuto's hands tilled for a moment in Orochimaru's hair, faltering in its smooth motion. Finally, Kabuto seemed to decide. He raised a hand, and green chakra surrounded the limb. Orochimaru's eyes slowly slid open, looking at Kabuto almost with fear in his eyes. But, he also seemed like he was asking for something…Kabuto again had to gulp down his heart, and he let his hand fall to Orochimaru's forehead. "Sleep," he whispered, gently tugging Orochimaru down into the realm of dreams. "You'll feel much better afterwards."
OOOOOOOOOO
After Orochimaru had been asleep for a minute, Kabuto considered it safe to leave him. He wouldn't wake up for another few hours, at the least. And hopefully, by that time, Kabuto would have some new medication for him, and also something to eat. Orochimaru had only been one hundred and ninety pounds when he was healthy; he was quite skinny. Ever since being cursed by Sandaime and the Shinigami, Orochimaru had lost twenty pounds in a week. And that was very, very bad. Kabuto was trying to get him to eat something, but Orochimaru would hardly take water at this point. He had also developed a raging fever: his body's clumsy attempt at dispelling what it thought was a virus. Kabuto had brought down the fever manually, by overriding Orochimaru's brain through chakra, as the last time he had taken Orochimaru's temperature it was one hundred and eight degrees Fahrenheit. Now, Kabuto wasn't completely sure how far Orochimaru's parallels to snakes went, but he knew that was pushing it farther than they needed to go. Kabuto had left him at one hundred degrees even, and gone off to find another painkiller-just as he was doing now.
Morphine, opiates, numbing solutions, injections of a million and one specimens, oral suspensions, pills, capsules…Kabuto knew he was lucky he kept the place beyond organized. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to find anything at all. Kabuto finally settled on a high concentration opiate pill. It had been about twelve hours since Orochimaru last had anything so strong-he should be able to take the opiates without problem. And, if he couldn't handle it, Kabuto could simply flush his system. It wasn't hard to deal with at all. Kabuto also grabbed a sedative: just in case Orochimaru got unruly. It also helped to hold it over Orochimaru's head, because, deep down, they both knew that Kabuto could easily overpower Orochimaru in his current state.
It was such a shame.
Red Sun rising!
Drown without inhaling…
Within, the dark holds hard!
Red Sun rising!
Curtain falling!
Higher than hope my cure lies!
Orochimaru was awake when Kabuto came back in.
The genin was surprised, he had to admit, that Orochimaru had overcome his spell so soon. But something was off…and as Kabuto approached, he could see why. Orochimaru had woken up, not because he wanted to, but because he dreams chased him out of semi-refuge. It was written in every aspect of his face: pain, horror, terror, and, most troubling of all, utter despair. Orochimaru looked…defeated…Kabuto swallowed hard, trying to douse his fears as he approached Orochimaru. The sannin seemed to be wordlessly begging for him to come closer-Kabuto sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Orochimaru, and set down the medication he was carrying on the nightstand next to the bed. "You okay?" he murmured, reaching over to Orochimaru and helping him sit up. Kabuto pulled a few pillows from the other side of the bed and put them behind Orochimaru's back, letting him lean back against them. "Do you want anything?" he asked, trying to keep the fear from his voice. Orochimaru would never forgive him if he found out that Kabuto cared for him from more than a master-servant standpoint…
Orochimaru slowly shook his head, but Kabuto offered again, this time a bit more pushy: "You need to drink something, at the very least," he said, brushing a few strands of hair out of Orochimaru's pale face. But, as he did so, Kabuto caught the dampness of sweat on his fingertips, and almost immediately jerked his hand away. He could feel the smoothness of the liquid running down his fingers, though, and came to a sudden realization: the wet drops of water on his hands were not drops of sweat.
Orochimaru had been brought to tears.
Kabuto let out a shaky sigh, unsure of what to do. Clearly, this had been brought on by Orochimaru's nightmares: but what were these nightmares, to bring to Orochimaru's eyes?
"Orochimaru-sama," Kabuto started, looking away from the snake's golden eyes. Unlike their usual sternness, they were now molten pools of amber, much softer and having much more emotion in them than ever before. It unnerved Kabuto, to know just how deeply Orochimaru was haunted. "You have to drink something, at the very least. I really would like for you to eat, but I know you won't…I'll leave it to you to ask when you want something, because I know that if I ask you, you will only refuse. But, please, Orochimaru-sama, at least take some water. You can't go on like this, refusing to-"
"Kabuto. Shut up."
Kabuto was rather taken aback at Orochimaru's statement. But the snake didn't meet Kabuto's eyes, and he didn't sound like he really meant it. Kabuto's mouth, formerly open and about to say something, snapped shut, and his hands retreated to his lap, where his fingers laced together and he fought down the vicious urge to simply take Orochimaru in his arms and hold him forever…
Orochimaru took a deep breath, as if trying to bring himself back under control. When he next spoke, however, his voice shook with pain, and he almost seemed to be choking on his words. "Kabuto," he whispered. "Please…I'd rather endure this pain…than dream again of the…"
Kabuto knew immediately what Orochimaru wanted, and nodded wordlessly. He really didn't know how to respond to that…or was he even supposed to? Kabuto couldn't think of a single thing to say that wouldn't sound awkward between the two of them. He was afraid to offer his master comfort, either, for fear of being struck away or rejected. But wasn't there something he could do? Anything…?
"Orochimaru-sama," Kabuto said hesitantly, "I-I'm so sorry…"
Passiontide…
An angel by my side,
But no Christ to end this war;
To deliver my soul from the sword.
Hope has shown me a scenery-
Paradise poetry.
With first snow I'll be gone…
There was a small shift in the distribution of weight on the other side of the bed. Kabuto heard the sheets rustling, and glanced back at Orochimaru inquisitively. The sannin had sat up a bit more, and was edging towards him. Kabuto moved over, allowing Orochimaru more room. But, Orochimaru didn't seem to mind at all. He instead moved closer, laying his head on Kabuto's shoulder and falling still again. Kabuto was shocked: usually, this gesture was reserved for those one trusted.
Since when did Orochimaru trust?
A/N: Had to end it there, otherwise it would be another thousand or so words. _ bit longer than I intended for this story…it's short, though. Well, whatever. Lyrics are from Nightwish's Higher than Hope.
