Broken Whispers
A/N: - Hi, all. Erm…..another one shot. Whaddaya know, aye? Yeah…..erm…..KabuShiz. A rather neglected pairing, in my opinion, which still holds a lot of promise. I was sorta surprised when I saw how few of these there are on so I have resolved to dedicate some of my time to clogging the site with these. Yay. I actually came up with this fic a long time ago, and just recently rediscovered it on my PC, where it was collecting dust.
I wrote this, (over a span of like, what, a month) read it over, and then realised that it was one of the sweetest, fluffiest, most cavity-inducing fics I've ever read, or written. Yeah. Only coming down to the end, though. And it's bearable, don't worry. Some characters might be considered OOC, or that may just be me delving a little too deep into their personalities.
We'll place this anywhere after Tsunade becomes the Godaime, but before Sasuke defects.
You know I love to hear from you all, so please review. :-)
Disclaimer: - Like thousands of other fanfiction writers on this site, I do not own Naruto.
Shizune looked down at the key in her hands. It was small and bronze, and scratch marks all over its surface told its age. She held it up before her, sighed, and then looked at the piece of paper in which it had been folded. It held three lines, written in a neat script.
Hotel Hiiro.
Room 21A.
Y.K.
In a corner of the paper was a red spot. It was dry, crusted and unmistakably blood. Shizune clutched the paper to her chest and closed her eyes.
Kami-sama, I hope he isn't hurt very badly. I hope he hasn't gone and done too much to himself.
"Whispering to yourself again, Shizune?" came an amused, droll voice from behind. The attendant whipped around, hands behind her back, colour high in her cheeks, looking horribly guilty.
"Tsunade-sama! I…..ah…..er…..didn't realise that I…..ah..…said it aloud."
The Hokage chuckled, and leaned against the doorjamb.
"Don't worry, Shizune. I've long gotten used to your little quirks. They don't bother me."
Shizune gave a nervous little laugh, twisting and turning the piece of paper around her fingers behind her back. The Godaime brought the small bottle in her hands up to her mouth, taking a delicate sip. Her attendant got a whiff of the potent, spirituous liquid and frowned reproachfully.
"Tsunade-sama! It is only two o'clock!" she said in a reprimanding voice.
The flaxen blonde considered.
"Hmm…..I more like to think of it as already two o'clock. Already two o'clock and you haven't taken your lunch hour as yet." Tsunade regarded the girl. "Shizune, go get something to eat." It was an order, and left no room for argument. "It's long past time since you had your break."
Shizune made to protest that she had a lot of work to do, but she stopped herself just in time, fingering the paper. That speck of blood was still bothering her. It couldn't mean anything good. She could use this time to go to him, and see what was the matter. It was best to go to him as soon as possible, in case it was an emergency. Then she could take care of whatever problems he had (hopefully minimal) and make plans to meet him later on in the day.
She smiled, just a tad too brightly.
"Arigatou, Tsunade-sama. I think I will take my break now. I was just getting hungry."
The lie was carefully and slowly said, and by the way each word was enunciated, one could easily tell it was being told by a novice. However, Tsunade didn't seem to notice. She only gave a satisfied nod.
"Good," she said, sounding pleased. "Now go on. I don't want to see you for the next hour." She inclined her head. "In fact, make that the next hour and a half." She gave her attendant a reproachful look of her own before disappearing into her office. "Sometimes, you work too much, Shizune."
The door swung shut.
Shizune could hardly believe her good luck. An hour and a half was more than enough time. The paper, which she had found on her desk after she had come from an errand, went into the dustbin in shreds, its contents memorised. The key, she pocketed. She grabbed her knapsack and began flinging in things at random, not sure of what she would need. Antiseptics, antibodies, antidotes, bandages, cleaning agents, and all manner of pills and serums were thrown in.
Shizune was glad the Hokage had exited the room. If she were present, she would no doubt want to know why her assistant was going on her lunch break with her medicine bag.
Shizune let herself into the hotel room quietly. It was dark, and a dank, musty smell permeated the air. Newspapers lined the floor she trod upon. Everything was eerie and still. Room 21A, was indeed, much like the rest of Hotel Hiiro.
There was only one window, and it appeared to be sealed shut, allowing no light to filter into the gloomy space. The room was sparsely furnished, containing only a table with three legs, a rickety-looking chair and a weathered, beat-up bureau that stood next to the bed. The bed was situated at the far left corner and someone lay upon it.
The figure stretched out on the bed rose, grunting and clutching his side. He fumbled around on the bureau for the lamp switch and pulled on it. Light flooded over Yakushi Kabuto.
Shizune's heart clenched and spasmed, as it was wont to do when she saw him. His pewter hair, his inky black eyes that seemed to glitter behind his glasses, his smooth solemn features, never failed to reassure her that no matter how wrong this was, there was an undeniable, simplistic rightness in the way his presence soothed her.
"Were you seen?" he asked in greeting, his voice calm and sleek.
"No," she whispered back from a few feet away. "I'm sure of it," she added before he could ask. "I checked. And you?"
He shook his head.
"No one recognized me under the cloak. And I checked into the hotel under a false name."
"Good." She moved closer, noting the blood-soaked cloth he pressed to the right side of his abdomen. She blanched. Judging by the soppiness of the cloth and the stickiness of his fingers, he was still haemorrhaging. This looked bad.
"Damn it, you got yourself hurt!" she hissed in soft fury, stating the obvious.
He smiled, and even though it was like downing a tall, cool glass of refreshing water, Shizune did not appreciate it. She could discern nothing funny about the situation.
"Shizune, why do you always whisper when you're with me? We're alone, and I'm almost certain there's no one eavesdropping or spying on us. Are you always afraid that we will be caught in the next second?" He sounded vaguely amused.
"Never mind that," she said irritably, voice dropping even lower. She sat down on the bed. "Your wound."
He shifted uncomfortably, and winced. She could see that he was in considerable pain, no matter how well masked.
"I was poisoned." She didn't bother to ask by whom; she knew there was a high probability it was by Konoha-nin. "A katana laced with some sort of toxin got me in my side. It's inflamed, and won't stop bleeding. I feel light-headed, a little weak, and, well….."
He held up his hand. Shizune gasped in alarm, noticing for the first time how extraordinarily pale he was. The blue-green of his veins showed up clearly under his white skin, which appeared to be paper-thin. She grasped the hand, and was further appalled to feel how shockingly cold it was. She looked at him, eyes wide, and he nodded grimly.
"I've tried treating it in various ways, but nothing I've done so far has helped much. It just refuses to heal, or get even slightly better, no matter what I do. I was in the area, and you're good with poison, so….." He trailed off and shrugged.
Shizune drew a deep breath, telling herself that there was no cause for much apprehension or fear. She had the world of antiserums, antidotes and pills. She would treat him, and cure him.
At the same time, a part of her said that if Kabuto had no knowledge of the toxin, or how to treat it, it must be extremely grave indeed. Kabuto was an excellent medic-nin, even better than her, and awfully erudite. What were the chances of her being able to deal with it? Shizune tried to beat off her pessimistic thoughts with a mental stick.
"Okay," she said in the same hushed tone. "Let's see that wound."
Gingerly, he removed the blood-saturated cloth.
It was a ghastly sight. The deep gash ran from his side almost to his navel. It was scarlet red and looked ugly against his almost ghostly pale skin. It was indeed inflamed and on its way to becoming festered. Around the injury, Kabuto's skin had taken on a greenish tinge, and specs of dirt were clearly detectable.
Shizune glared at him.
"You haven't been cleaning this, have you?"
He blinked at her from behind his spectacles, unfazed by her anger.
"Just about all of the contents of my bag were lost in the fight. Stealing supplies attracts too much attention, and could have wrought a clear path to me. I managed to give it a quick cleaning with some water, but that became impossible once I entered the hotel. The nearest bathroom is on the fifth floor. I didn't want to draw notice to myself by running up and down the stairs."
She sighed. Well, she supposed she should clean the wound and get a closer look at it before she administered any treatment.
"Okay. The fifth floor, did you say? I'll be right back."
She took a clean cloth and the soiled one that Kabuto had used and nipped upstairs to the bathroom where she washed out the dirty cloth and wet the other. She hunted around and found a small basin, which she filled before returning to Room 21A with it.
He was reclining again, shirt off, glasses on the bureau and hands stacked behind his head. Shizune tried to ignore the way her mouth dried and her pulse quickened, and sat down on his right. Without preamble, she dipped a cloth into the basin, wiped the blood off his hands and chest, and then began to clean off the blood and dirt around the wound with the antiseptic.
"So, what happened to him?" she asked, a little out of breath as her finger brushed against a hard muscle.
"Happened to whom?" He replied with a question of his own, dark eyes penetrating.
"The man who poisoned you." She swabbed carefully, not wanting to cause him unnecessary pain by getting the antiseptic into his wound.
He answered in that cool, calm voice, looking directly at her.
"I killed him."
Shizune closed her eyes, and paused briefly in her administrations. Bile rose in her throat, but she forced it back down. Not for the first time in the four months in which she had been secretly seeing him, she was suffused with a great, choking guilt. A Konoha-nin was dead, and she, close friend, confidant and assistant of the Hokage was associating with; indeed, was very likely in love with his killer; the spy, traitor, and enemy of Konoha, Yakushi Kabuto. Shame and self-reproach threatened to suffocate her.
She bit her lips and opened her eyes. She made to continue as if he hadn't said anything particularly disturbing, but he would not let her. He captured her chin with his fingers and forced her to look at him, studying her intently. Shizune could detect no remorse in those glittering eyes, only vague sympathy, for her. Her bottom lip trembled, and she averted her eyes as he continued to stare at her unwaveringly. He had never been this direct.
The hand moved from her chin; up to brush back the hair that fell like shards of black glass round her face. From there it travelled to the back of her neck, and pulled her down. For the first time that afternoon, their lips met in kiss.
Like most of their kisses, it was bitter, salted by the few tears that she always, inevitably shed, and sweetened by the spark of love that had sprung up on them so unexpectedly. He was thorough, and excruciatingly slow, tormenting her with his languid exploration of her mouth. She kissed him back fervently, almost reverently, pouring all that she felt into him.
As usual, they pulled away at the same time, knowing when and where to stop before it became too much for them, before they did something irreversible, before they made a huge, beautiful mistake. She offered him a shaky little smile. In return, he began cleaning his glasses on her shirtsleeve, a quirky little habit that she found endearing.
She sniffed, and resumed cleaning the gash. As she worked she whispered another question.
"What are your symptoms again?"
He arched a brow at her inane tone of voice, but did not comment on it again.
"Light-headedness, weakness, extreme paleness…..generally, my strength is just about non-existent. I've had an absurd loss of blood, and furthermore, the bleeding refuses to stop, and the wound won't heal. Let's see…..festering, inflammation…..and I vomited once in the forest.
Shizune chewed on the information, thinking it over, pondering, trying to connect the side effects with a specific poison. She bit her lip as she mulled. She finished cleaning and discarded the cloth. She looked over the physical appearance of the wound. Greenish tinge, inflammation, festering….. A frown was beginning to take up residence on her countenance when the word swept in and out of her mind.
"Lyntago(1)." Her head snapped up. "That has to be it. Lyntago. Its effects are all that you described." She nodded. "Yes, I'm sure that's it. It would certainly explain how you didn't know about it, or how to treat it. The poison lyntago is made from the roots of an extremely rare plant, lyntax. Lyntax only thrives in rainforest conditions. Over the years, there have been very few cases. I remember covering it briefly with Tsunade-sama.
"Though the side-effects of lyntago are fairly mild, as the poison progresses throughout your body, they become harsher and more advanced. Heavy bleeding ensues from the wound, no matter how big or small, and one is hardly able to move for weakness. Because lyntago is so rare, it is hardly used, and so very few people know its cure. This results in almost everyone who internalises the poison dying."
Kabuto drank in her words, and she could almost see him filing everything away.
"Lyntago's antidote is actually very simple, and easily acquired, and thank kami-sama, I believe I brought it."
She swivelled to rummage in the knapsack, but soon turned back, frowning.
"What I don't understand, though, is how your case seems to be so advanced when you were only infected today. It's supposed to take a week or two to reach this stage."
Her brows furrowed.
"Did you, perchance, try to mend the gash with your chakra, or maybe extract the poison?"
He nodded, and she gave a sigh.
"That would be it then. Chakra has an adverse effect on lyntago. Instead of pulling it out of the bloodstream, it catalyses its spread throughout the body. Being a veteran medic-nin, your chakra is strong and far-reaching, which in this case, was to your detriment. You're very lucky you didn't die."
She turned back to her medicine bag. He watched her as she dug around, and finally came up with a vial of ruby-red liquid, smiling brightly.
"Redroot. A common marsh weed," she whispered as she poured the contents of the vial into a syringe. "Once I inject it into your bloodstream, it begins working immediately, almost as a kind of dissolvent. By this time tomorrow, the lyntago should be completely out of your system."
She got a piece of cotton, leaned forward and injected the redroot into a muscle in his triceps, and pressed the cotton down over the spot for a few seconds.
"There," she said softly, and smiled at him. She was so relieved that it hadn't been anything more serious than this, something she wasn't prepared for, something she couldn't handle.
Kabuto was watching her with an indiscernible look in his eyes.
"Arigatou," he said in a whisper of his own.
"No problem."
She turned back to the bag pack once again.
"I just need to give you a few stitches and some bandages, and that'll be it."
He shook his head and tried to sit up.
"No, you don't have to. I can seal it with my chakra. I have enough." He paused, remembering her earlier words. "Damn it, I can't use chakra, can I? Well, I can do the stitches myself."
She pushed him back down gently.
"Don't be silly, Kabuto. That's unnecessary. I'm here, and I'm happy to do it for you. Besides, it'll be quicker this way."
She cleaned her instruments, threaded the needle deftly, and began making her way slowly but adeptly from his navel. She never took her eyes off the task, and she never faltered or stumbled, but stitched with precision and care. Within ten minutes, she was done.
Shizune sat back, got a roll of bandages, and swiftly bound the wound. That done, she cleared up all of her equipment and supplies and put them away. She gave him a tiny purple pill to replenish the blood he'd lost, then made a quick trip to the bathroom to empty the basin, put it back where she'd found it and wash out her cloths. When she returned, she helped him to sit up with his back against the wall. And although he undoubtedly already knew, she told him to be careful not to tear his stitches.
For the last time, she dug into her knapsack as he replaced his glasses. This time, she emerged with two bowls. Grinning widely, she uncovered them to reveal small circular dumplings, and in the other, a hot, thick sepia-coloured sauce that emitted the tantalizing fragrance of red beans.
"Odango and sweet red bean sauce," she said as she handed him his chopsticks. "I bought it on the way." He gave an appreciative smile, and they dug in.
"So," he said as he dipped a dumpling into the broth, "don't you have to be getting back soon?"
She shook her head, chewing happily.
"Tsunade-sama gave me some extra time. I have about a half an hour more."
He nodded. An easy, companionable silence slipped over them as they ate their lunch on the bed, dunking the bite-sized dumplings into the tasty sauce. After a few minutes, Kabuto paused and looked up at Shizune with a most unreadable look on his face. She did not see; her head was down. He continued like this for sometime, staring at the first and last woman he would probably ever have feelings for. Finally, he put down his chopsticks and spoke.
"Shizune…..I don't think….." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes as she looked up. He exhaled. "This will not work."
She cocked her head enquiringly, but a tinge of fear was already slinking into her raven eyes.
"What will not work?" she asked cautiously.
"Us." His tone was one of melancholy and finality, and her panic mounted. "We can't go on like this; we will not survive." He heaved a sigh. "I…..I think we should break this off." She gasped in horror at the notion and dropped her chopsticks. Trying to ignore her reaction, he continued. "I mean, look at us. Every few weeks, a clandestine rendezvous. We meet, I talk, you whisper….."
"We heal." She reached out and grabbed one of his hands, eyes shining with pleading tears as she lightly touched his injured side.
He shook his grey head.
"We wound."
His words evoked a fleeting image of Tsunade-sama, but she valiantly pushed it away to clasp his other hand to her in desperation.
"We love." Her words, her eyes, her visage all implored, begged him to retract his words, reconsider what he'd said. She gazed at him silently, trying to make him see that with love and endurance, they could make it work, they could survive.
Kabuto's face portrayed morose scepticism and he shook his head slowly and tried to ease his hands away. She grasped them tighter, pulling them towards her as she spoke in a throaty whisper.
"Kabuto, you were right. I guess on some level, I am deeply afraid, paranoid even, of getting caught, and that's why I always speak in this ridiculous whisper. I'm afraid of the repercussions, the shame, the guilt, the horrible consequences. I'm afraid because I love my village, and I love Tsunade-sama, but each time I see you, I fall even more in love with you. I'm afraid because you serve a man that I must and do hate. I'm afraid of everything that can and will inexorably happen when we are discovered.
"But Kabuto, it's worth it. These stolen moments, these snatches of conversation, these broken whispers; they are all worth it." She swallowed. "I am growing to love you, Kabuto, and I will not let you give up on us." She began to sound fierce and adamant, even as the tears that trembled on the precipice of her lower lids spilled over and crashed unto his hands.
"Not if you have one, minuscule drop of feeling in your heart for me. If you can honestly say you don't love me….." Another swallow. "…..then I shall let you go, without a word. Do…..do y-you?"
They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity trapped in a second; the two brilliant medic-nin who had found something rare, something precious, something beautiful, something so utterly irreplaceable in each other. She searched his face, her heart lodged firmly in her throat as she awaited his answer with trepidation.
He turned away, shaking his head, and for one terrifying moment she thought he had given his answer.
"You know that I could never say no to you, Shizune. You know…..you know I love you."
Pale, slightly muscled arms flung around his neck and warm lips pressed against his in a sweet chaste kiss. She drew back, smiling broadly.
"Arigatou gozaimasu, Kabuto," she whispered. "We will make it work. You'll see."
He cupped her cheek in a calloused palm and they sat immobile for a few minutes, drinking in each other.
When he removed his hand, it was with some difficulty and evident reluctance.
"You should go. I don't want you to get in trouble on account of me."
She nodded, even though she knew that at the moment Tsunade-sama was probably sleeping on a stack of papers, drooling and snoring. She slipped off the bed, tucking her short glossy hair behind her ears. She gestured to the knapsack at his feet.
"You can keep it, for the journey home. Don't forget to change your bandages regularly. And if your side effects don't dissipate, take another dose of the redroot. I believe there are a few food pills in there, also. I'm sure you'll find some use for them."
He nodded his thanks.
"Erm…..ano….." she stuttered, "If I return here this evening, will you be here?"
He vetoed it with a gentle shake of his head.
She swallowed her disappointment.
"Well, then," she whispered, voice shaky. "Goodbye."
She went over to his side, and leant over. As he brushed his lips against her forehead, a wave of emotion snatched her, so ferociously intense that she could barely breathe. Her heart was swollen, turgid, pulsing with a range of conflicting feelings.
No matter what becomes of us, I'll never stop loving you, she thought as she walked to the door. Never.
It would have been easier to slip out without another word; a whole lot less painful. But the quiet words flew unchecked out of her mouth, danced across the room and sneaked into his ear. Head bowed, palm hovering over the doorknob, she spoke, in a whisper.
"You know, I also whisper when I'm by myself." She shrugged, and glanced his way. "I don't know. I just find that that's when I can really, truly be myself."
He nodded, acknowledging what she was inadvertently telling him. Light glinted off his glasses, and the shine hid his pain-streaked eyes. Watching her go was never easy for him. He always harboured some fear that the next time they met, her feelings would have changed, her mind poisoned against him.
Who would have thought that those cautiously said, broken whispers would come to mean so much to him? Certainly not he. The door clicked shut, preceded by the last flash of sable hair that he would see in a while. He gave a wry smile, and his earlier fears vanished. A lot of things had changed, and more of them would. But Shizune, she would always stay the same. She would always come back to him. And she would always whisper.
END.
A/N: - Ack. All that sweetness. Almost like a rush of blood to the head. LOL.
(1) – As you probably guessed, lyntago is non-existent. The word is courtesy of my imagination. Therefore, its subsequent details, effects and cure are ditto (products of my imagination). If my medical info and stuff all suck, sorry.