It had been a sunny day, though Asuka had thought that rain was more apropos for their moods. His grandmother, Kanae, had done his hair up in an elaborate style with glittering pins and a pale green ribbon. They wore formal kimonos, as Kanae had said that they ought to look presentable for the dead.
"How would you feel if someone came to pay respects at your grave but wore slouchy, dirty street wear or worse, pajamas !? Ha! That's not respectful at all!" Kanae had scoffed, on more than one occasion.
Once a week, the last two members of the Nohara clan visited Konoha Cemetery. Their vigil lasted the entire day.
It was Asuka's turn to make the offerings. He'd spent several hours the previous day making salmon onigiri from scratch. He didn't remember much about his mother, but he knew that this had been her favorite flavor.
It was a ritual that had been happening for as long as he could remember.
The wind floated through the grass, rustling the flowers set atop the uniform headstones. The blue sky was cloudless. It was about noon, the sun was at its apex.
Not for the first time, Asuka wished that he had lighter hair. Or that he could cut it. His hair was down to his mid back, and it was thick. The hairstyle that Kanae had chosen was heavy. It got in the way on missions, it was hot. He just…hated it.
There weren't many people in the cemetery besides themselves. Asuka walked straight towards his parents' graves. They were off towards the side, at the newest part of the cemetery.
"You," Kanae growled. Asuka could only guess at who.
A lone figure crouched in deference to the stone monument. The Copy-nin, Friend-Killer Kakashi, whatever his name, he was Kanae's hated enemy. He didn't acknowledge Kanae, just continued to stare at the stone. Asuka noticed how his shoulders trembled slightly at her voice.
Asuka dropped into a crouch in front of his mother's gravestone. He had placed the offerings atop her and his father's headstones. He watched, warily, as Kanae stalked towards the copy-nin.
"You–" Kanae shouted, though her voice wavered, "How dare you! Have you no shame, you lowlife psychopath?!"
The copy-nin didn't say anything. He didn't move. He simply remained where he was, forehead pressed to the stone in his silent vigil.
"Baa-chan." Kanae ignored him. Asuka stood up. "Baa-chan, leave him alone."
Furious, Kanae turned around to face Asuka. Tears dripped down her face. "My daughter is gone–-and it's all his fault!"
Kanae dropped down to her knees and glared up at the sky. There wasn't a cloud to be seen. Cicadas buzzed all around them.
Asuka deftly navigated the gravestones around him and went to his grandmother's side. Kanae's arms shook. She slammed a fist into the ground. "It's not fair," she hiccuped.
"Baa-chan." Asuka crouched down and hugged her. He patted her back gently until Kanae stopped sobbing. By that time, the shadows had become long and the copy-nin had long since left the graveyard.
"How is she?"
"My, my," Orochimaru muttered, "Impatient as ever, are we?"
Madara's single visible eye narrowed.
They were in a cave.
But then again, when weren't they in a cave? It'd been a good decade or so since Orochimaru had left the village, and because of their need to be off the radar due to the nature of certain experiments , nearly all of that time had been spent underground.
Absently taking a look at their surroundings, Orochimaru wondered if the reason that their experiments failed so often was due to the lack of hygiene in caves. Bat shit was everywhere .
Filing this thought away for later, Orochimaru took another look at their patient on the table.
The girl looked to be about thirteen or fourteen, and by the appearance of the numerous scars on her body, had already had quite the career as a shinobi. Her chakra pathways were developed to a level usually found in older jounin. This suggested a prodigy, or someone who relentlessly pushed themselves– Orochimaru noted the strain around certain pathways in her hands and throat.
Curious.
But that wasn't what they were supposed to be looking at.
"Kabuto-kun, status report?"
"She's stable for now, Orochimaru-sama." His disciple said, rinsing his hands in a nearby water bowl.
Madara's mokuton– such an odd phrase, Orochimaru was simply dying to know more about the man behind the mask, including why the hell he possessed the First Hokage's kekkei genkai– had completely damaged her liver. If the girl was going to live, which Madara demanded that she would, then they needed to replace it.
It had taken several hours to transplant it. Orochimaru let Kabuto do it, they knew the boy could use the experience. Now, the only thing left to do was wait and see if her body accepted or rejected the transplant.
A breeze passed through the cave. The candlelight flickered, twisting their shadows along the wall.
"Orochimaru, I need a favor." Madara said. He sat cross-legged on a rock not far from where the operation had taken place.
"Oh?" Orochimaru asked, disinfecting a bloody scalpel and toweling it clean.
"I need you to make me a seal."
