It was gray out, the sun hiding behind the dark cloud cover as leaves whispered with gusty streams of cool air. Ashen smoke swirls around. A sweet soothing fragrance fills the air. Paper shifts as a pale hand gently places an origami dragon on the rough stone. It's aqua scales glittering and bright in the darkness of the day.
There's an inhale of early fall air; the musty decay of leaves and rich soil mix with burning offering, before a shuttering breath comes out of pale pink lips.
Water splashes into a small white dish.
Candles flicker in another currant gust of wind.
Palms gently clap as they are brought together.
Another shaky sigh, as if gathering strength.
"I-. I have come to say goodbye." a breathy voice stated. Bright flame like leaves floated down with the breeze.
"I know it's been only a few months since you've left... But..."
"I think it's time I left to go on my own.. I think M-." The smooth timid voice chokes, a throaty swallow punctuates the air before it restarts.
"I think she would be proud that I let go of my anger. That we got along despite what happened... I'm not mad anymore. I just. Need to go."
The boy-man smiles.
"So this is goodbye, grandfather."
The man slowly eases himself out of sitting position, his shins slightly damp, as he stands. Brushing the soil off his knees, he turns stares at the pale marker for perhaps the last time before turning away. Crisp leaves crunch under his wooden sandals as he whisps through the small graveyard like smoke. Markers and nondescript jars litter the little aisles. Some hold dying flowers and small gifts while others are empty with mold etching into the stone. He easily passes it all for the wet pebble pathway that bisects the small cemetery.
Nostalgia makes him turn to view the rapidly moving river behind him. It's current lashes out at the shore of sharp rocks as it rushes past. He doesn't dare look at the other side. He doesn't want to think about the mistake that caused the death of his-. Stopping the thought in it's track he turns to face the exit. Where normally winding worn stone stairs climb up the hill that overlooks the cemetery, there's a new addition leaning against the iron side rail. The old woman blinks as she patiently waits for him to walk up the ancient stairs.
He takes his time. His steps slower and slower before he's dwarfing over her. Her face weary, lines of old age contort as she solemnity eyes him. Warm brown eyes drop as she sighs before adjusting her blue kimono. "You don't have to go." She states; her voice soft dangerously near fading.
"You know I have to." Feet shuffle with the fact. He moves the thick strap on his shoulder a little to his right.
Looking up she studies the man she's known since he was little. Watched him as he grew up. From the moment his mother showed up in town the first time, to his first story, to his near fatal accident, to his "rebirth", to the demise of his mother, up till now. He's very different compared to the young boy she knew. With dark locks of soft hair pulled into a small ponytail, a bottomless black eye, pale moonlight skin, and svelte body; he looked like a predator, unlike his younger self would of suggested.
She fondly smiles before removing a thick gray fabric that hung over her arm. Offering it with one arm she resignes,"Take this. It will keep you dry."
Returning the smile he drapes it over his shoulder, it's heavy and smells of campfire soot.
"You'll come back and visit won't you?" There's fear lurking in the question.
"Why wouldn't I Kameyo?" A hint of arrogance flashes through his face, as if she was asking a stupid question.
Grabbing his cheek with her frail fingers she attempts to shake the little fat there. "Don't forget about us now paper boy. We'll always be here." His face scrunches in playful irritation.
"I won't."
She releases her hostage before pulling him into a tight embrace, fingers tightening around the back. A second later, hands weave around her, returning the hug. It's quickly over as feet step away from each other.
Sandals clack as they steadily climb up stone stairs.
"She would be proud of you, you know! " Kameyo shouts, her grandmotherly voice echoing off the trees and stones.
The man falters. His foot half way up to the next step.
"I know."
The answer is smooth yet sharp.
Freezing air stirs about as charcoal clouds churn over head. He studies the sky in morbid fascination as he tightens the gift, revealed to be a finely woven wool cloak, around himself. Winds howl as they rip through the trees, raining down leaves in masquerade of confetti. Branches twist in old angles and forms; fencing the lone morass path. The temperature steadily dropping as the storm brews over head.
Honestly he could care less.
Twigs snap under pressure as he continues to amble along. His thoughts more occupied with the distance to the next village and the flickering thoughts tumbling around his head; a nagging sense of needing to be somewhere and doing something important. He's not exactly sure where they come from. Just that he needs to keep moving. To comply to his wanderlust even if it takes him far from what's he's known.
And what's he's know has been very little.
Especially anything that's happened before three years ago.
His mind is dark and unyielding. It like a dark shadow lingering in his consciousness; unassuming but lurking around occasionally when it sees fit. Or shapeless pieces to a puzzle that doesn't exist anymore.
The thought of finding the puzzle frightens him a little.
He's not sure why it does though.
Another heady wind zooms through as rumbling echos from above. His hood ripped off, erratically whipping about. The cape flaring up behind him like strange wings.
It's not the powerful gust that draws his attention away from his sandaled feet, but of the lone dark figure casually strolling down the path. It's gait oddly familiar.
Swallowing, he moves forward, the calmness of his step fading as the blue humanoid comes closer. There's a slimy crawly feeling tingling over his skin as he draws nearer and a strange borrowing, wriggling sensation in the back of his neck. Something is very wrong with this person and it takes all his self control not to run the other way.
White light flashes in the black sky before a harrowing boom detonates, making everything convulse.
The figure is closer now, almost as if the light transported it to it's new position. He can clearly discern the dark blue kimono and purple obi tied around what he supposes is a woman's waist. Her long black hair sways with a certain grace from under the woven sugegasa, her eyes obscured from view. He pointedly moves his eye to the muddy ground.
Another bolt of lightening streaks, this time less bright, with a low rumble following afterwards.
Sludge squelches before and under his feet; a soft pop as the feet of both persons rise out of the mire. The woman is closer now, her skin pale, paler than his own that reminds of him fresh fallen snow, glistens in the twilight-like highlight in the angry sky. Her shins are strangely wrapped in clean bandages and her sandals odd as well. He doesn't dare to look up further.
A few more foot falls and they'll be in arms length of each other. Hair standing on its end, he suppresses a shudder. The stories of Oni, Yurei, and Yokai attacking helpless alone travelers don't seem so far fetched as they once did. Only now does he regret leaving before the next caravan out of town. At least then he wouldn't be facing this Yokai alone.
Movement and sound stop for a few seconds as he is forced to halt. Despite her small frame, she dominates the path, leaving no room to maneuver around without seeming rude.
Bright light washes over them both before it's suddenly dark again.
There's grumbling in the far distance.
He can feel eyes studying, dissecting him. It's oddly deja vu like.
"I don't suppose you could help me?" A ruff slithery voice purrs out almost as if it's pleased or amused, "I am looking for a particular little village in this region."
Startled, the man looks up to the now newly identified male traveler(?),( Yokai(?)),( oni(?)) 's face. Thin long lips smirk from his ghostly pale face. Purple markings surround and spike away from green? gold? stilted eyes as they examine the shorter man. It's hard to tell with the sunless evening and brimming shadow from the pointed hat.
He's already lost the game. What ever game this monstrous creature is playing with unspoken rules and unfair advantages. It feels like the the night of the festival nearly two years ago. Except there is no one here to save him this time.
Dread trickles into his subconsciousness; his feet jitter nervously.
Realizing that he hasn't replied, his voice dry, as he asks "Which one?"
"It's fairly small, overlooks the ocean, full of civilians..."The semi threat hangs in the air till the monster continues, "There's a rather gifted storyteller, whom I wish to speak with. He does some rather marvelous things with paper from what I hear."
He's suddenly very glad for the cloak covering his shamisin.
A drop of water bounces off his uncovered head. It nestles into the roots of his hair as does the next one after it. He doesn't dare to lift the hood; the glowing golden eyes wouldn't approve.
"But since you've apparently came from there, perhaps I can inquire you instead." The monster pauses, waiting for a denial, before slithering forward, "I am looking for a wayward student of mine. He's been missing for quite some time now. His name is Sasuke Uchiha."
The name is unfamiliar to him.
Relaxing with a gitty release of nerves, he replies in a calmer voice "I'm sorry but there is nobody there by the name of Sasuke."
This response isn't one the stranger is expecting. The monster almost seems dumbfounded for a second.
"Tell me what your name is?" it comes out half way between a command and a question.
"Kubo." He sidesteps the snake man, brushing past with his cloak, eager for this exchange to end. This move always seemed to peeve Kameyo off; she'd slap him in the head scolding him to be more polite and stop acting like that. He wasn't exactly sure what she meant by that but the need to be polite and the need to get out of dodge were very two different things, especially dealing with a snake.
A thick oozy snicker left the creatures lips, "Mmmm... Mine is Orochimaru."
Freezing water pelts the ground.
Pointedly ignoring it's response, he lifts the heavy hood as more water buckets the ground. The trail instantly becoming slick and waterlogged. He trudges forth.
"Tell me, Kubo. How does that curse mark on your neck feel? Does it feel like something is living underneath your skin?"
Standing stock still, he slaps his hand over the strange black markings on the nape of his neck.
Whatever this strange game is, he instantly knows he's lost. He can feel the serpentine cackling at him.
Bright light blinds everything as the earth quakes underneath. A glint of something metallic is the only warning. Stinging fire blooms across his cheek. The world grows dark again.
He's gone before the second attack can happen.
Green, black, and brown flash through his limited vision as he razes through the trees and brush. Scratches appear on his skin in his hasty retreat. Mud cakes and stacks onto his black pants and not-really-protective-enough sandals. The downpour blurs anything remotely noticeable and the howling typhoon makes it impossible to hear.
He's not sure if Orochimaru is chasing him or if something else is, he just knows he needs to get away.
Half of him wants to turn around and fight, the other half wants to keep running.
The decision is made for him when pale hands snatch at his cloak, forcing him to stop or be clotheslined by the drawstring by his neck. He complies for only a second to release the string. There's a curse from behind him as he launches himself forward.
Blurried eyed, he only catches ashy hair and a glint of light off round glasses before he's being shoved.
Metallic flavor fills his mouth as his face collides into ruff bark. A splitting pain reverberates through his head.
The ground shutters as something crashes down; a zippy swoosh embeds itself above his head. He can feel strains of his hair being ripped out as he takes off towards a slope. Water sloshes down in turents as his feet dip and slide down the steep hillside. The ground is still trembling as he grabs a small branch; barely heard shouting coming from above.
One false move is all it takes before he's tumbling down.
His supplies go flying as they're ripped from his black obi, some coming down with the water while others sink into mud.
He feels something circular jut into his waist before it's crushed underneath him. Distantly he hopes it's not his shamisin.
Finally rolling to a stop, he gingerly picks himself up, a stabbing sensation in his side dully aches. He tries to peer up at the hill but anything past a few yards is washed out. Huffing, he stands straight up before turning and running again.
Yellow serpentine eyes watch the blob's hasty retreat further into the forest.
"Shouldn't we go after him?" A voice quietly asks from a branch behind. The speakers voice heaving a little.
"There's no need to, Kabuto."
Orochimaru turns to study his counterpart, it looks as if Kabuto battled a tree and lost to it. A chilling smirk crawls onto his face.
A confused scowl crosses his subordinates face. He snears inwardly, but mildly supplies, "He will come to us soon enough."
Golden sunlight glittered through thick brush as a black eye peered up in hazy recognition. The world aglow with crystalline reflections from the downpour. Growning , Kubo gently raises himself to his feet. Despite the rain, it hasn't cooled off or more its become forest debree sticking to him slides off with thick slunks.
If he had to guess its about noon.
He scrubs at his face, flakes of mud come off in a frightening scale. Idly he wishes for a wash. Deeply sighing, his breath hitches as a sharp pain laces through his side. His face twists before relaxing again as shallow swallows of air pass his lips. Gingerly he slowly unties his tattered black obi and peels the mud slick left side of his yukata. Deep crimson and violet spatter the side of his chest down to his waist; majority of the bruising blooming on and a little bellow his hip bone. Grimacing he closes the cloth, loosely trying the ruined obi over his stomach.
Slightly worried, he goes to check for other wounds. Most of them consist of small splotches of green or purple and small scratches on the exposed parts of his body.
There's a slight shifting of weight before he remembers the crunch from his tumble. Dreading the possibility, he slowly swings the gentle weight from his back to his view. The neck is broken near the second interlocking piece while there's a huge notch in the third piece. One of the screws is completely gone while another is broken in half. The strings are missing. The only thing that doesn't seem damaged is the base and the skin coating it; though thick mud coats it. He laments at the state of his instrument.
It would cost a fortune to fix it.
Hot rage boils through his veins. He was tempted to march right back to Orochimaru and fight the stupid snake man. Though the memory of yellow eyes dissenting him deters the foolish plan. Being anywhere by that creature would be a bad idea; even if to risk getting his supplies or to return to the path long behind him. His list of stupid ideas didn't need to grow longer.
He's not even sure how far away he's from it.
"Seems like the only way is forward." He mutters, taking a step towards the sun.
Sakura Huruno has had better days.
Her short cherry blossom hair waved in the gentle breeze, while her jade eyes screwed shut from the fire laced pain in her arm. Slowly breathing through her nose, she tried to ignore the burn in favor of anything else. The quiet murmurs of her teammates buzz around as the green leaves above rustle. Finally calming her erratic breathing, she peels her eyes open to the bright sunlight. Wincing, she turns her face from the sky to the two men conversing; their backs turned to her. Bright orange floods the area in a warm glow while yellow light reflects off metal. Seems as if captain Yamato and Naruto are getting along well enough.
Smiling a little she turns her attention away from the little huddlement to her worn pack. She only digs a little before pulling out a tattered green book with a drawing of a boy on it. She rolls it around in her hands. The edges are a little torn with wear, the front and back pictures faded, and the binding a little catawampus. One side has a little boy with black hair while the other side has white. It's gives her weird vibes as she slowly opens to an indiscernible page.
Black pencil and ivory paper greet her as she slowly scrolls through the book, nearly every drawing has a similar idea of design. And all have the same story. It's only when she reaches the middle does it change. A figure with no face stares back at her. Swallowing, she quickly turns the book to the back before following it along till she is again at the middle.
It's only a second before she feels eyes on her that don't come from the sketchbook.
Slowly peering over the green book, she spots a dark figure about eighteen meters away. They appear almost deer-like as they stare with anxious curiosity. She could've written them off for a lost traveler had their been any village near by.
Glancing over to the rest of the team, she makes the split second decision of drawing their attention to the book. Naruto probably wouldn't be able to catch on but the captain would.
"Hey guys. Come here." She yells, her eyes glued to mysterious newcomer. They stiffen.
Waiting a few beats, she shouts a little louder "You need to see this."
Crunching of grass and snapping of twigs steady comes closer as jade pins coal.
"Sakura, what is it?" A boisterous yet rough voice asks as he jogs up beside her.
"What's wrong Sakura?" Another asks. It only takes a split second before the contact is lost as Yamato goes to stand to her other side. Enough time for the person to disappear.
A broken shamasin, a short hunting knife, a smashed gourd, a torn coin purse, a tattered red yukata, a shredded pair of pants, and a pair of snapped strap sandals.
He groaned. Hardly any of his supplies had made it.
Bemoaning his luck, he threw the gourd away; it no longer useful, and placed everything that could be cleaned with somewhat ease by him. A search through the coin purse only turned up a few copper mon that were strung around a cord. The strap to the sandals were fixed with relative ease, though he worried at the combined unluckiness of two sandals with broken straps.
Carefully he carried over the rest of the items to a low murmuring stream he recently found. Sunlight sparkles off the clear water till muddy clothing was deposited under its surface. Scrubbing as hard as one could with long digits; clumps of mud, small sticks, and crusty leaves swirled around in the gentle flow. After the grueling cleaning session; he took his newly washed possessions and placed them in a ring of sunlight on some low hanging branches.
Checking the area for any random stranger and satisfied with the lack; he quickly took off his undergarments, dumping them into the water, scouring them as much as he dared to and leaving them up to dry with everything else.
Cool water chilled his skin as he quickly dipped himself in the brook; his teeth clenched tight to stop the enviable chatter. Steeling his breath, he dipped his head under before shooting back up; teeth clicking and shutters rolling from his shoulders. With shaking hands he pulled out the twine holding his pony tail; waterlogged ebony slumped over in mock relief. Holding his breath once more, he lowered his head into the cold recess of the stream; scratching at his scalp with dull fingernails.
After the water no longer bled brown and the grimy, crawly sensation ceased to cling to skin, his black eye scrutinized the clearing once again before sinking himself lower into the water, his hair a makeshift pillow, as it splayed around in the soft grass.
Despite the initial cold jolt, the crystalline like water was a comfortable cool as Kubo closed his eye. The early autumn sun warming his face and exposed shoulders. It wasn't long before the gentle caress of sleep rapped around his tired being. Lulling him into a shallow dreamless sleep.
A soft crunch. A whispering of cloth against cloth. A sheen of metal with a change of movement. A state of quiet awareness itching at his tired at one time would've had him awake with alertness, were ignored in favor for the lull of murmuring water and gentle swaying of leaves. That was until a very monotone voice stated.
"I thought you would've been bigger"
Half sputtering, half shrieking, Kubo sunk under only to shoot up seconds later, coughing and wiping the excess water from his face.
A single eye glared at the figure crouched on the side of the stream.
They offered only a smile.
His face twisted in an angry snarl. Quietly he demanded, "Do you mind?"
"Not at all."
Dumbstruck for a moment, Kubo gaped at the black haired, pale as paper, blank eyed man before him. His outfit looked like it met the wrong end of a pair of scissors with one of the sleeves and the stomach section of the shirt gone, and the pants cut too short. The unnerving smile never wavering off his face.
He narrowed his eye at the stranger. "Well I do. So go away", flicking his fingers in a motion to get away.
The man just tilted his head in response.
"It is nice to finally meet you. My name is Sai."
"That's great and all-," Kubo's voice dripping in sarcasm, "But. I. Am. Bathing. So you need to stop being creepy and go away."
"Like now." he demanded as Sai failed to move.
"Weren't the Uchiha politer than this?" the question asked nonchalantly.
"What does paper fans h-" His face scrunched up in displeasure "You know what? We're not doing this." Water splashed as hoisted himself out of the stream and spun Sai away from him. He gave a firm shove towards the surrounding forest. "You need to go home or where ever you came from and need to leave me alone."
Sai quickly turned back, replying "Naruto and Sakura are looking for-"
"I don't know who those people are-"
"-You. They plan on-"
"-And I really don't care. You need to go. Because-"
"-Taking you back to Konoha."
"-I'm leaving right now."
"I though you were bathing?"
"Well you've changed my mind."
Kubo pivoted Sai around and forced him to stumble towards the edge of the clearing.
"Will you be traveling with us?"
"Not with you, not ever." He gritted; elbowing the other continuously near the towering trees. "Don't you have something better to do than harass me?"
"My escort did say not to take too long."
"You've taken too long." He gave a final push before stalking towards his belongings.
Sai dispassionately surveiled as the other grumpily flung on an array of traditional clothing; muttering the whole time while doing it.
He eyed the black cloth in his hand before a smirk and little chuckle inched along his face. Tapping at his cheek; the emotion fled back to wherever it came from.
He was quickly gone a second later.
"Was it smart to let them met?" An aggravated voice asked as carmine flakes re-hydrate and slide off shiny steel.
Pointed yellow eyes glance down before eyeing the stream once more. " Sai will be coming back soon. Finish up."
No huff of annoyance came; though a soft clinking of metal and fluttering of cloth rolling; the sound almost aggravated in its own right. "Lord Orochimaru, I am finished." A few footsteps of crinkling rock rolled underneath as a young man in purple sat on top of a large protruding boulder. Trinkling water filled the silence as they waited.
"Danzo believes Sasuke has been with us the whole time. It would appear suspicious if Sai was never to see him. Even more so if he appeared to be at the hideout against his will." Orochimaru stated, breaking the long silence; his serpentine eyes locked at a certain segment of forest.
"Interesting."
Glimpsing down, a pair of black eyes with a slightly raised eyebrow silently asked a question before landing on the gray sheaf laying near his leg. He returned an eyebrow before smirking and training his eyes back. "It's not mine. But it will be returning to it's master soon enough."
Slowly he stood up, casually jumped off the grassy overhang he had been sitting on, and moved towards the murmuring stream.
"It conducts the natural chakra of it's wielder without needing to channel it through."
A shring echoed as a golden katana glinted gold in the sunlight.
"It's almost like an extension of one's self. Someone could easily level mountains with it." The hilt clicked as it was deposited into the sheaf. "The alloy it's made out of is different too. It's a mixture I've never seen before; one part gold, another part something else."
"In capable hands, this sword could end nations..." The serpent turned, eyeing the furrowed brow and calculating look of his subordinate.
"Why return it then?" Kabuto asked.
"Because it isn't the most interesting thing about this sword." He angled the hilt towards Kabuto. "Someone has tied hair and bow string on the grip near the guard."
"Human hair. One from someone old while the other from someone much younger. Though the black strand is much older, lost a few years ago, while the white strand more recently. Only a few months old." The young nin supplied.
"They're memoirs." His voice less snake like and hushed; almost like a secret. His thumb gently rubbed the hair before his eyes grew harsh, pinning the other with a stare. Black stared into gold as grass and leaves crunched under foot.
Kabuto turned away first.
"Ah Sai. I see you have returned.", Orochimaru purred, his eyes sliding to the side, studying Sai before landing on the black cloth, "And with a new shirt too."
Footfalls echo off orange swirly bricks in the dark labyrinth hidden beneath a green savanna. Shallow candlelight flickers, casting long shadows on the floor as they pass by; some areas lay dark and empty like forgotten trails in a overgrown forest.
An uncomfortable blanket of silence covers everything, it's thick and semi-repressing. All other sounds seem nulled here; the distinct lack of others, slowly eats at his nerves.
"I wonder", Sai starts, waiting for the attention of his guide, "would it be possible to meet the rest of Orochimaru's subordinates, one's who are here? "
"There won't be any need for that. In fact it's impossible." The reply comes easy, as if the answer had been recited before. His feet scuff against stone as he stops.
Silence falls again; the Root ninja waits expectantly. His guide, Kabuto, finally inclines his head a little glancing at Sai's blank face before continuing.
"That's because there are no other people down here, just myself and... Kubo. That's all."
Smirking at Sai's raised eyebrows, he continues to walk down the long hallway that eats light the further one peered down it.
"Kubo?"
Clacks of sandals dance and bounce along the walls.
"He and lord Orochimaru should be arriving soon enough. It would be in your best interest to avoid them. For the time being."
An unbidden question lingers in the air as they continue further; kabuto ignoring it in favor of leading them to their destination.
Its sometime after when Kabuto stops. The door is mostly sturdy, appearing heavy as he fishes a silver key from a purple pocket and inserts it into a lock. It clunks as the pin raises the locking mechanism. Creaking, the door slowly opens; weak candle light spills into the corridor.
"This will be your room for the duration of you stay." He casually states as he enters the small dingy room. A small rickidy bed, a short table and a low burning candle fill the cramped room.
"The bathroom is over there." He lazily motions to the other door in the small room before circling around the black haired guest. "I'll be locking you in. No need for you to get skewered while you wait. Wouldn't want for you to be... well you know." The door clicks shut, a clink of metal, a clunk, and soft footsteps slowly disappear.
Darkness fills his vision as he slowly sits up; springs twang underneath as weight shifts. Despite the lack of light, the faint outlines of a desk, chair, and bookcase peep out of the pitch black of the small room. To his side there is a darkness that seems even darker than the main room in shape of a rectangle and a gentle flickering coming from a crack near the floor in front of him. Springs crunch as he swings his bare feet, placing them on the cool stone floor. The bed bounces as he gets up.
His feet patter softly as he warily approaches the door. Its heavy, worn and cumbersome as he gropes in the darkness. His hand finally lands on a metal handle and immediately pushes on it. It doesn't budge. Changing tactics, this time he pulls.
Soft yellow candlelight floods the doorway. Despite its lack of intensity, Kubo still squints before his eye finally acclimates. The corridor he finds himself in is empty. The only companion being the flickering light on strangely orange rock.
Its unseeingly silent as he waits for someone to find him. Occasionally the scraping of small nails click in the other rooms that dot the walls. Sometimes its a sudden breeze whirling by, but mostly its silence. A strong smell of wet earth and sweet decaying tang permeates the air.
At first he doesn't notice the light slowly fading; the wicks growing lower and lower as the fire eats string. Its only when a few of candles flicker out that he grows concerned. Glancing up, he eyes the candles with wary. They're too far from his reach, sitting on a ridge jutting from the wall; it doesn't stop him from trying. Standing on his toes his outreached fingers just barely touch the ridge. He aggravatingly huffs a little before turning around to his room.
His shadow hovers over the door way, darkening the contents. Gold glints from the bed as he reenters; it reflecting brightly in the dimming light.
The grooved handle feels good as he grips it.
Despite the welcomed familiarity of the katakana, it brings up questions of how it's in his possession again, where exactly he is, and who brought him here. His first assumption being he passed out somewhere and was in a temple or hospital. The appearance of Sword Unbreakable has him thinking otherwise now.
Frowning he ties the sheath to the black obi; his reddish-brown yukata droops with the weight, slightly loosening it in turn.
Nervous energy thrums through his digits as he scouts the semi lit room. His shamasin, hidden in a nook between the table and half full bookcase. Frowning he swings the instrument on his back; the strap rubbing into the notch of bare neck and shoulder. His sandals unfortunately, lacked to appear, even after scouring the small chamber. In their place, a pair of bizarre coal colored sandals with long linen kyahans incorporated in them, layed under the bed.
They were fairly easy to slip on after he jimmied them over his pants; it snugly wrapped around his shin and ankles. Despite their odd appearance, the new sandals were extremely comfortable; catering to the shape of his heel and palm of foot. And flexible he mused, rolling his ankle as the fabric moved with it.
After admiring the new sandals, he drags out the lonely chair sitting in his room to the ledge of candles. Even more have gone out: to the left is now pitch black with only a glimmer of orange in the far distance; the right speckled with splotches of darkness and dim light.
He's on top of the chair when a cacophony of noises come echoing from the semi lit side of the corridor. Straining his ears, it almost sounds like shouting but it isn't clear as to what they're saying. Only a second later there's a low rumbling and an explosion of rock hitting rock from somewhere deeper in the maze.
Startled the chair rocks precariously as his hands grips one of the low burning candles; its hot wax oozing out of a saucer and onto the overhang. He hisses as some hits his fingers. A squeak comes from below as he steadies the chair with one hand, the other trying not to tip the candle.
Glancing down he spots the strangest mouse he's even seen. The sight of it peaks his interests and almost nudges something in his memory; something about mice in a forgotten or descelent place and trying to chase him away. It fades as quickly as it came, leaving him with only the echo of the memory. Something gut-wrenching and depressive, almost a sense of hopelessness careens through his splat as candle meets stone lodges itself into his ears, jarring him out of trance like state. Dazed he dispassionately studies the mess of wax and wick before scoffing at the realization that he's dropped the candle.
The mouse is gone by the time he's fully aware of his surroundings again.
He's reaching over, trying to grab the edge of a candle saucer when another rumbling sound reverberates in the hall. Except this time it's different, quieter even and accompanied with a sound of something soft but high, almost squeaky. A mass of black swarming bodies scattering about further down the hall has a pit of dread spiking in his stomach. Kubo really doesn't want to know what's spooked so many mice into a wave of living rodents. The chair clatters to the ground, as he dashes back into the room given to him; the known quantity of the small chamber safer, than the unknown of the passageway. Slamming shut with a bang, nearly all the light is cut, the darkness swallows everything.
Scampering tiny paws stampede by, the light from underneath the door eclipsed for a moment. As soon as it had begun it was over. The squeaking gone and replaced with a pair of tiny feet scratching at wood. A little body squeezes itself under the door before popping out the other side, it's intelligent eyes monitoring Kubo's form. Cautiously he stares back at it, unsure of it's odd behavior. His skin tingles as a sense of anticipation picks at his nerves; something akin to a feeling he can't quite place.
The texture of the mouse as he cups the creature in his hands isn't quite fur, almost like it's a bad imitation of fur; it moves around in circles as if looking for an exit before it finally stops. He silently steps beside the bookcase, his back against the wall away from the line of site of the door. He holds his breath as the door creaks open. The glitter of light fills the bed.
There's a moment of pause, almost as if whatever lied outside the door was thinking, before a low voice whisper something; he can't catch most of the words, the most distinct word being "-beast-".
Oozy wet slops slither in, hissing as they cloak themselves in darkness, seeking out their prey. Tracking the snake-like shapes proves difficult in low lighting, their shapes blending into others as the comb the room. A sharp tear of pain grips his palm as he involuntary yelps; the mouse scampers away into the light and out of site. It's appearance not unlike a sketch of a mouse. The thought is dispatched as the figures of snakes surround him, their heads raised in a threatening manner.
Kubo dry swallows before asking "Who's there?"
A pause.
Then a voice replies, "So you do know I'm here."
The voice sounds familiar to a degree as it continues "Well regardless I still have the advantage."
Silently he agrees with the stranger.
"What do you want?" his voice raises at the end of the question.
More light pools in the room as the door is pried open. "If you mean lord Danzo, he plans on burying you."
A silhouette of someone crouching darkens the floor.
"And you? What do you plan on doing?"
He grips the hilt; the jaws of the snakes open menacingly.
"To take you back to the leaf.-"
Leather scrunches as a fist tightens.
"When I came here, I came with the sole intention of ending your life. But now, I'm here for a different reason."
"And if I refuse?" His voice sharp but wobbly.
"You can't."
The snakes lunge.
"What was that?" A slightly startled Yamato asks.
Dust curls in the wind in the distance, the slight tremor of the explosion over.
"Well I guess Kubo's up." Kabuto answers.
The captain trains his black eyes on the captive, not expecting an answer to his rhetorical question.
"I did warn him."
Ringing.
The whole world is ringing.
It's buzzing too. Almost like an insect, a giant insect.
The ringing quickly fades, but the buzzing doesn't.
Dust eats up his vision as his eyes slowly open, the dirt a little thick as he breathes in. Slowly it settles down, coating the area in dry earth. He slowly pushes himself onto his haunches. Viewing the area, Sai mostly says to himself, "Impressive, he broke out of my Jutsu with seer power."
Purple stone lays scattered and crumbled in the newly made crater, the diameter at least fifteen meters. Splinters of wood originate from blown apart room. Thick roots jut from above, angled in a spearing motion, as some smaller roots jar into the stone floor, shattering the rock.
Squinting up, the thick cover clears as the visage of what must be Sasuke appears. Sun glints off from something off his back before disappearing from sight. The buzzing stops too.
Sai stands as the figure above frowns in confusion. His eye taking in the destruction he's caused before landing on Sai himself. His eye squints before it opens wide in recognition.
The patter of footsteps are Sai's only warning as a gloved hand grips the collar of his shirt and a face full of pink haired kunoichi blocks his vision.
"Alright enough! Tell us what you're really up to! How many times do you plan on betraying-"
"You. You just tried to kill me!" A shocked voice shouts from above.
Everything stops as a startled Sakura turns towards the sun, her words falling silent as she releases Sai's collar.
"It's you. Sasuke."
'Sasuke' glances behind him, as if expecting to see someone else besides himself at the edge of the crater. Realizing that nobody is there with him; he shuffles with the new gaze. Almost as if he's baring witness to something that's private and has no business knowing.
For the first time, Sai questions himself if this person isn't Sasuke but the mysterious "Kubo" Kabuto mentioned to him.
A moment later orange streaks out of the darkness before skidding to a halt beside Sakura; his breath ragged as he gazes upward.
Gently a breeze drifts by ruffling the figure's hair, the bright mid morning sun silhouetting his front. His lips press together nervously before asking.
"Who are you people?"
