The ANBU Chronicles

File #1; Chapter 7

Genma awoke to the sound of the room's only chair being knocked over and a subsequent whump. He opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing sleep out of them. His eyes focused and he saw Sasori on the floor about three feet from him in a bathrobe. She was desperately trying to push herself up and was currently propped up on her elbows, the chair overturned beside her.

And she was crying softly.

'Oh fresh hell,' he thought,' Not again.'

Sasori wrapped her arms around herself and sobbed softly. Genma stood and knelt beside her, laying an arm around her shoulders. He didn't say anything because really, what could he say? He couldn't say "It'll be alright" because he had no way of knowing that. He dreaded to ask her what she was crying about for fear of getting a snide remark in return or further inciting a flood of tears. Instead, he waited for her to speak.

"I don't have long," she whispered.

Genma's eyes widened and he moved so that he knelt in front of her, both hands on her slumped shoulders.

"The poison," she whispered in a voice laced with sorrow," was made from the Shiyuri, the Death Lily. It is a fast acting poison that can kill in 30 minutes to 2 hours, depending on the person. I got the general antidote in my system and that is what has sustained me thus far however, even with my clan's resistance to poison, we still need antidotes for them. I don't have an antidote for Shiyuri."

The last word was choked out and Sasori angrily pushed the tears out of her eyes. Genma was finding this hard to believe. A poison master done in by poison? No way in hell.

"Can't you make an antidote?" Genma asked," I'm sure there is an apothecary somewhere around here."

"Gods, if I had the ingredients, I could make an antidote," she said.

"What do you need?" Genma asked firmly, his hands gripping her shoulders.

Sasori studied his face for a moment. Eyes the color of burnt wood and hair of a matching shade, his bored expression was gone and replaced with a look denoting his seriousness about the situation, the senbon needle in the left corner of his mouth this time. Slowly, she started to list ingredients while he nodded and made mental notes.

"Lastly and most importantly, I need the Shiyuri poison itself," she said," And I fear, that will be the most difficult to find."

"Not so, perhaps," Genma replied simply. He stood and walked into the bathroom where his Jounin vest lay discarded from the night before. He opened one of the pouches and pulled a small object wrapped in a handkerchief out of one of the pockets. The Jounin returned to the room and knelt in front of her and unwrapped the small object. It was the enemy kunai he had picked up the night before. Sasori's eyes widened.

"Is that-"

"Yes, I found an enemy kunai last night that they missed. I saved it for whatever reason but perhaps it has some of the Shiyuri poison on it."

Sasori picked it up and held it up to the small beam of light that had crept in through the drapes. A thin sheen of something non-metallic shone on the blade. A smirk crept onto Sasori's face as she turned the kunai left and right slowly.

Genma found himself at the apothecary's getting exact measurements of about a dozen different ingredients. The shop smelled faintly of old wood and the air was heavily laden with aromas that numbered to many to accurately name. The old apothecary weighed each ingredient and put it into seperate little baggies. He paid the man and left the shop. Genma made haste back to the inn room.

"The sooner the better," he affirmed in his mind.

Over the past 12 hours, her attitude towards him had changed so much. He hoped he could possibly crack this intriguing woman and manage to get her to work with him. Right now, the odds were in his favor. At first, his willingness to help her had been out of concern that he might have to abort the mission if she died and that he would be at the mercy of the Raikage, Arashi, herself if Sasori came back to Konoha dead. That thought had always been in his subconscious and was not the most pleasant of thoughts to think. He knew of the Shinzui ability to control blood and rightly feared it. One well-placed blood clot could kill him.

So he helped Sasori and it didn't take him long to start to enjoy taking care of her. It was an interesting sight to see such a strong woman broken and needing help but denying it whenever it is given. It didn't take her long to give in to his help either. He wondered about that. Was it a facade? 'No, aggression and coldness like that cannot be faked,' he thought.

Or was she ready to change?

Sasori stood in the middle of the room, humming a song to herself, her back to the room door. She was dressed in a pair of black pants with bandages and black straps around her lower legs, a tan, low back halter top that buckled around the neck and exposed her massive black scorpion tattoo with the red torii Ħ symbol below the red eyes of the scorpion and the raised scars from years ago, and bandages and black straps on her wrists. Her hair was wrapped up in a fluffy towel.

She truly felt a bit refreshed and was able to move a bit more. The poison still made breathing and moving hard but she fought it. That and the fact that her ankle wasn't totally mended yet encouraged her to do some stiff walking.

Sasori still wasn't feeling like her usual self. A shadow still loomed in her heart.

"Oh, if this could only be a dream and I'm going to wake up soon," she said. A smile played on her lips- the smile of someone who accepted their fate but insisted on not giving in without a fight. If this was how she was going to go, then she honestly could have wished for a better ending. It wasn't fair! There was so much that she hadn't done yet. It had crossed her mind several times that maybe she would like to start a family but she quickly dismissed that thought. Afterall, having children would interfere with her duties to the Raikage and she couldn't have that. A husband would be fine, she supposed, as long as he didn't tell her what to do or try to control her life. 'Life isn't fair,' she thought,' but if I am going to die, then I am going to fight it all the way. Death will discover that I am not such easy prey.'

She grabbed hold of her towel and whipped it off her head with such speed that it made a snapping sound and a second later, she heard it snap on flesh.

"ARGH!" Genma yelled.

She didn't hear him come into the room and had practically zipped him in the face with the towel. Gemma now had a welt on his left cheek from the towel.

"Oh damn!" Sasori said," I'm so sorry!"

And she was for once. She hobbled over and relieved him of the apothecary's bag and carried it to the table. Quickly, she began to unpack the bag. She examined several of the herbs up close and muttered small notes about them before setting them aside. Genma scooted the chair up to the table and Sasori immediately spun it around and sat in it.

"Genma, can you run downstairs and pick up some things for me, please?" she asked, her back turned to him.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not your errand boy, Sasori-san," Genma said," but what do you need?

Ten minutes later, Genma returned with the spoons, beer glasses, tubes, measuring spoons, strainers, several candles, and bowls that Sasori had asked for along with a cold bottle of plum wine and wine glasses. She thanked him, retrieved a pair of glasses from her pack, and then started to work.

Genma lay down on the bed with a glass of plum wine, and watched her work. He noted the massive tattoo on her back of the black scorpion with the red torii on it's carapace. His gut wrenched at the sight of the raised scars that the tattoo encompassed. Had she been lashed once? She was busy measuring and cutting herbs for the antidote. Her long scarlet hair was tied up in a messy bun and was out of her way for the most part while she worked. He could admire a master like herself.

"So what's with the scorpion?" he asked.

"The symbol of my clan, the Dokugamoto," she answered, taking a sip of her wine.

"'Dokuga' meaning the poisoned fang or claw and 'moto' meaning the origin," he said outloud," so your last name means 'origin of the poisoned fang'?"

"Hai. As you already know, Sasori means scorpion," she said," Now your last name, Shiranui, means phosphorescent light, mysterious lights at sea, or sea fire. That explains your attack somewhat."

"So what of my first name? Any clue to the meaning of that?"

"Not a fckin' clue. I think your parents hated you," she said, chuckling softly.

"Hey now look who's talking. Your parents named you 'scorpion'," he said.

"Point in fact," she replied," My parents did hate me."

"So did mine," Genma said," They wanted a daughter."

"We should have been born in each other's place then. My parents wanted a son," Sasori said, holding a spoon over a lit candle," so they ignored me. The only time they paid attention to me was when they were beating me."

Her tone was so even, so calm, that it made Genma raise an eyebrow. He studied the scars on her back and he found himself clenching the bedsheets.

"Were they punished?"

"Hai..."

Genma relaxed his grip and forced himself to drink a little more plum wine.

" i I /i punished them," she said flatly.

"And let me guess, you feel no regret?"

"Very little in fact," she said," it was an order by my clan to kill my parents. They defied a clan order not to get involved with Sunagakure and I was ordered to kill them."

"I'm surprised you haven't told me to quit prying yet," Genma said outloud.

Sasori set her spoon down and turned to look at him. Her maroon eyes studied him for a minute before a frown creased her face. She turned her back to him again and started working on her antidote again.

"So... I take it you had fun killing them?" Genma said.

"Quit prying," she replied tersely.

-End Chapter 7-