Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Masashi Kishimoto and the Naruto franchise.
Author's Note: Firstly, a massive thank you to KARASU25, Rosebunse, Hot's and Clogs and the mysterious guest (three guests or one guest? the mystery will, alas, never be solved) for their kind, encouraging and supportive reviews. KARASU25, welcome back to the story, and Guest, do log in next time if you can, because I like to thank my reviewers individually when it's possible. ;) Secondly, thank you to everybody who has favourited and followed the story since last time, and last but not least, thank you to all you wonderful readers still powering along with the story. I hope I can continue to surprise and entertain. This chapter along with Hands Blue were planned around about when I was still writing Chapter 2, so it's lovely finally seeing typed down. Hope you enjoy this installment and, please don't be shy, review and let me know what you think. Best, Zen
Inside the freezer was larger than the supplies cupboard and ten times colder. Thick frost crunched under Sasuke's feet. He curled his toes as they touched the ice. As the dim white ceiling lights began to brighten he began to make out a long dark shape at the back of the room, tucked up onto a shelf. It was the only object there.
Slipping and sliding on the frost and panels of ice hidden beneath it, his breath fogging the air, Sasuke approached the shape. Each step was cautious, followed by a backwards glance to the freezer door in case Kabuto returned and decided to shut him inside.
When he was not more than a metre from the shelf, he stopped, because the light in the freezer was now bright enough for him to see that the dark bundle, glittering on the shelf, was no ordinary bundle at all, but a man.
Dark folds of fabric stiffened by frozen blood; corroded arms lined with blackening wounds and peeling skin; a face, pale like his own and paler still in death - a face that had haunted his dreams and his life so vividly that he would recognise it even now under a layer of slick blue ice and white frost: It was Itachi.
He had been placed on his back with his arms laid by his sides. His eyes were closed. Were it not for the stiffness of his frozen limbs, Sasuke might have convinced himself that his brother was merely asleep.
Sasuke took a step closer. He didn't know how long he had been in the freezer, but every breath he took was beginning to hurt and his eyes stung.
Dark tracks of blood striped his brother's chin. The ghost of a smile even touched the corners of Itachi's mouth. It was as though Itachi had been preserved at the very moment of his death. Sasuke ran a hand over his brother's forehead. Hair clumped with ice stuck to his fingers and the frost melted away from the forehead protector. Under Sasuke's palm, the struck through mark of Konoha felt as jarring as a scar.
He withdrew his hand.
Black fires, smoke, the burnt ozone smell of a passing thunder bolt, and the wind and the pouring rain – he remembered his last fight with Itachi with painful clarity, but now that he came to think about it, he had never once wondered what had happened to Itachi's body.
He had fallen unconscious beside it. When he came to, he was being tended to by the masked man in a cave, and he hadn't once asked what had happened to the corpse. It was a habit ninjas got into. You didn't ask what happened to bodies on missions. You butchered your own to stop knowledge being passed on to other villages as much as you butchered those you had killed in preparation for research. The fate of his brother's corpse hadn't even crossed his mind. Perhaps he had assumed that Madara had disposed of it or that it had burnt in the Amaterasu flames.
But now here it was. Here was his brother's body, stored away in a freezer, like a carcass kept away for carving, but to Sasuke it appeared as though the freezer was the glass cabinet for a much prized possession.
And the man who was claiming possession of his brother's body was none other than that scum of the earth Kabuto.
"Son of a bitch," Sasuke breathed. His fingers curled into fists.
He took two steps back from the frozen corpse. He couldn't take his eyes off it. Finally he squeezed his eyes shut and spun around, pushing open the great freezer door with his shoulder so that it groaned and squealed at its hinges.
There was the man – bent over his microscope with a smile and deliberately ignoring him – the ghost ninja, the non-entity, the scientist, the man who, for some foul purpose of his own, was keeping Itachi's body in a freezer.
Every step was slow. He controlled his breathing and tried to do the same for his heart rate. He didn't trust his body. If he took a single step faster, he had a feeling he would end up flying across the room trying to land a chakra-laced punch in Kabuto's ribs and bust open his chest cavity, even though he knew the attempt would only be in vain.
Ice was stuck to the bottom of his shoes. His footsteps crunched. Sasuke stopped when he was standing between the two workbenches and directly behind Kabuto.
"Kabuto," he drew in a shaking breath before continuing, "why do you have Itachi's body in the freezer?"
Kabuto looked up from the microscope. He smirked and put down the slide in his hand. "You are a nosy little brat, aren't you?"
"Answer the question," Sasuke snarled. "Or I'll – "
His hair was standing on end. The space around him started to pop and crackle with charge, but before chakra could even start chattering down his arms, there was a whisper of wings and all three of Kabuto's moths were at his throat.
There was one on each shoulder and one stopped on his sternum, finding purchase for their feet in the rough cloth of his clothes. As the static built up about him, their antennae quivered and they unfurled their metal tongues. Three slim blades rested against his carotid artery, jugular vein and Adam's apple, pricking his skin. Scaly wings beat against his ears.
Kabuto clicked his tongue disapprovingly and wagged his finger. He sighed. "No hostile intent of chakra use, Sasuke-kun, if you please."
Sasuke clenched his hands into fists. With an effort that almost hurt he dispelled the electrical charge gathering about his arms. The moths fluttered their wings but didn't disperse.
"Good," murmured Kabuto, regarding him with an indulgent smile. "Good. Well, first things first, curiosity got the better of you at last, did it?"
"You never said I couldn't go into the freezer."
"I didn't, that is true."
"You wanted me to find out eventually."
"Well, I could have done without you knowing, but, I must confess, I was curious to see how you would react," Kabuto replied, observing Sasuke through his glasses like a specimen under his microscope. "And I see that you are angry. That is rather curious. You only have yourself to blame really. If you hadn't killed Itachi, he wouldn't be dead, Madara wouldn't have given his body to me, and I wouldn't have to keep him in special storage. The only reason he is in the freezer now is because of your mistakes. Oh, did that hurt?" he purred, noting Sasuke's stricken expression.
"Madara gave him to you?" Sasuke narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you."
"Oh, but he did," Kabuto said, with the glee of a torturer twisting a knife. "We have our agreement. I ply my skills upon you to create a cure for the Plague and, in exchange, I receive Uchiha Itachi's body as payment."
"And the subject of payment?" Kabuto continued, clearing his throat when he had finished his explanation. They had shaken hands. Kabuto's palm itched from the masked man's touch.
A wind whipped about them, picking up the fallen leaves, and when it cleared the body of Uchiha Itachi was in Uchiha Madara's arms. Wet from rain and smelling of smoke, it had been perfectly preserved in the masked man's private dimension where time and space were completely under his command. "Is this sufficient payment, Yakushi Kabuto?"
Sasuke demanded, "And what do you want with his body?"
Kabuto's smile widened. "I want everything I can get from it. Perhaps, in your current state, you will now be able to understand that corpse's value. There are some bodies in the ninja world that are unique, so unique that people would kill to uncover their secrets. You, Sasuke-kun, for better or for worse, thanks to our master, are now one of those bodies. Uchiha Itachi's body is another. Itachi was the greatest ninja of our day and age. He had such exceptional physical and mental capabilities he drove Orochimaru into despair. Now that I have his body, I'll be able to study what exactly made him the perfect ninja. I will unlock the genetics of genius, so to speak, and I will be able to apply them to myself."
Sasuke was clenching his fists so tightly his nails were sinking into his palms. The moths shifted the position of their blade-like tongues against his throat. "Apply all the genetics you like, Kabuto. Scum will always be scum."
"You think so?" Kabuto said with mild amusement. He pushed up the sleeve of his left arm and turned it to Sasuke. "Then what do you make of this?"
Kabuto's arm was milky white and covered in a fine layer of scales the size and shape of fingernails. His skin glistened and Sasuke knew that under that skin was blood running cooler and slower than in any normal human's body. It was uncannily similar to Orochimaru's physiology.
So this was what Kabuto got up to in his room – body modification. Like master, like apprentice, thought Sasuke, cold fury uncoiling inside ready to strike, but Kabuto was only just getting into his stride.
"This is what I have achieved with a culture of Orochimaru's cells," Kabuto explained, gazing at his white, reptilian arm with a loving pride that made Sasuke sick. "Imagine the potential I could achieve if I studied Itachi's body? More than that, if I could generate a cell culture from him, imagine the possibilities! Take a seat, Sasuke-kun."
The moths were still at Sasuke's neck. He had no choice but to lower himself into the seat beside the microscope that he had set up. His put his hands, still bunched into fists, on his knees and tried to ignore that they were trembling.
"Are you trembling with concern for your brother's fate? That is touching." Kabuto was mocking him, trying to get a reaction, a rise of any kind. "But there's no need to be so afraid for him, Sasuke-kun. You should be thanking me really."
"I am not afraid for my brother," Sasuke shot back. His chakra was churning inside him. Perhaps beneath that fury was a vein of growing fear, but he wasn't ready to admit that yet. "And why should I thank you?"
"Because through my research, your beloved brother will become immortal."
Sasuke raised his head. "What do you mean?"
"Figuratively speaking only, of course," Kabuto drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. "But once I create a cell culture from him, it's not much more of a push to start creating clones. Then do you know what I could do?" He leaned forward with a wicked smile. "I could farm the little clones for sharingans."
The chair fell over with a clatter as Sasuke rose to his feet. "Say that one more time."
"But could you imagine the trouble I would have to go to in order to get the sharingans to develop?" Kabuto continued, ignoring Sasuke standing over him. "I'd have to keep a facility for rearing all the little Itachis and then systematically exposing them to trauma as they got older to make the sharingan mature. It's a very troublesome kekkei genkai. It may be easier to make money selling the clones to the other nations and letting them carry out their own sharingan research. Either way, the end result would be international political power, wealth to continue funding my works and perhaps even a sharingan or two for myself."
Kabuto took off his glasses and cleaned them. He was giving Sasuke time to mull over his words and understand their terrible implications. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. "You're looking very pale, Sasuke-kun. I am rather upset, you know. I am offering a useful future to that lump of meat in the freezer and you look as though you want to kill me. What have I said to deserve that?"
Starting with calling his brother 'a lump of meat', Kabuto had said plenty in the last few minutes to merit a cut to the throat. Sasuke nearly didn't trust himself to speak.
"You can do what you like with me," he eventually said, trying unsuccessfully to hide his dismay, "but my brother's body is a different question entirely. He spent his whole lifetime being used. I don't want anybody using him after his death."
Kabuto chuckled. He picked up the slide he had been looking at before Sasuke approached him and set it on his microscope again. "But Madara is using him after death to use you, Sasuke-kun."
Glass shattered. Sasuke had swept a jar of culture medium onto the floor without a word.
"Clean it up, Sasuke-kun," said Kabuto mildly without even looking up. When Sasuke didn't move he sighed. "You're just a little boy scrabbling on a road without signs, seizing upon any signpost that comes his way. You're another one of Madara's tools, Sasuke-kun. He wants your abilities and your eyes, not your wit or your reasoning ability," he paused, before adding under his breath, "both of which are somewhat questionable anyway."
With one eye pressed to the microscope, Kabuto opened his workbook and began to draw.
Sasuke lowered his voice to a threatening growl, "I'm not a weapon for Madara to point wherever he pleases. I fight my own battles for myself."
Kabuto scoffed, scribbled something out of his notebook. "Well, I must say, he's done a stellar job pointing you at Konoha. Wasn't Konoha the town your brother loved more than his own clan?" Kabuto looked over his shoulder with gleaming, black eyes. "Didn't your brother die for Konoha? And now you're setting out to destroy the very thing your brother wanted to protect? Forgive me, Sasuke-kun, but I do detect a touch of irony in this situation."
The moths let go of their hold in Sasuke's clothes, curled their proboscises under their chins, and flitted to Kabuto's desk. Kabuto stopped to change slides under the microscope. Either he was waiting for Sasuke to respond, which wasn't going to happen, or he was getting a perverse delight making Sasuke feel as powerless as possible.
A breeze found its way down the ventilation shaft to nudge the sour smell of disinfectant about the room.
Sasuke leaned against the workbench behind him. "Where is Madara anyway?"
"At the Gokage Conference in the Land of Lightning," Kabuto replied. "He's gone to offer the Five Nations the cure for the Plague in exchange for the Jinchuurikis. It seems he got bored of waiting for his subordinates to catch them for him."
Sasuke felt something twist in his gut. "Is he offering the cure to Konoha?"
"He will offer it to all the Nations, but whether Madara will give it to them is another matter," Kabuto continued with the nonchalance of somebody determined to be an observer to another man's madness. He changed slides on the microscope again. "From what I know of the Nations, Madara will never get the Jinchuurikis and he knows it."
"Then why does he bother?"
"It's a way to divide up the nations, turn them against each other and give them one more reason never to unite against him. If he does his work well, we'll be in the midst of a Fourth Shinobi War soon. Then there will be so much pain and chaos that people will be begging to escape this reality and be cast under an eternal genjutsu."
"He lied to me then," Sasuke tried the words in his mouth and they tasted bitter, but he found that he almost wanted to laugh. He smoothed his face into a blank stony mask. "He's broken his end of the deal."
"If it suits his purpose, of course he would," Kabuto said matter-of-factly. "That's the danger of making deals with men who want to change the world, Sasuke-kun. They don't care what happens before they change it because they're convinced that eventually everything will be justified."
"Madara's offered the cure to Konoha and he might give it to them," Sasuke repeated to himself, as though in a trance. He looked at his hands. There was blood oozing from where he had dug his nails into his palms. "And it was Madara who gave you my brother's body."
Kabuto didn't turn around, but Sasuke could almost smell the smug satisfaction oozing off him like sweat. He swallowed, thoughts racing through his head too fast to pick out and too convoluted to unknot. No chakra use with hostile intent, he reminded himself.
"Yes, I am very much looking forward to working on that project," Kabuto confessed, and in his obscene excitement, he overlapped in Sasuke's mind's eye with their old long-tongued monstrous master and the cold fury that had been pawing for Sasuke's attention began to roar again.
"Come to think of it, there is another option I could explore with Itachi's cell culture. I could keep a few clones, let them grow to adulthood, and then harvest their gametes," Kabuto said, putting a thumb to his chin as he gazed into the microscope, deep in thought. "I could sell the gametes to any nation that wants to introduce the sharingan kekkei genkai into their populace. That would be wonderful for you, wouldn't it, Sasuke-kun? You'll have nieces and nephews everywhere! Branch Uchiha clans popping up like mushrooms."
And Itachi would eternally suffer beyond death, Sasuke realised in a terrible flash, after suffering all throughout his life, and suddenly within the torrent of emotions tearing through him, like the calm at the eye of a storm, Sasuke had a moment of perfect clarity.
He looked at Kabuto, whose back was still turned to him, and steadied his breathing.
"And is that everything?"
"Everything?"
"Everything you've got to say?" Sasuke said, feeling oddly at peace, because suddenly it was all so obvious what the right thing to do was.
And perhaps there was something in Sasuke's tone that warned Kabuto about what was to come next, because he even paused in his microscope sketching and began to look over his shoulder.
Too slow and too late. Too self-satisfied.
Sasuke lifted the microscope beside him. He brought it up in one hand and dropped it on the back of Kabuto's head.
After the fiasco of the first day of the Conference, it was decided by the Raikage to halt proceedings for the day and return to formalities the following morning, but the following morning was no better. Shouting followed by periods of awkward silence, and all they managed to agree on was a scheme to look for MK sufferers.
On the third day of the Conference, the Kazekage pushed back his chair and cleared his throat. "On the Jinchuuriki issue, I would like to propose a provisional vote, to gauge current inclinations."
"A vote? It's bleeding obvious how we're all going to vote," snapped the Raikage, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at the Tsuchikage and Mizukage. "Don't even bother."
"Those who would like to agree to Uchiha Madara's offer and hand over the Jinchuurikis to get the cure for the Plague," the Kazekage said, ignoring the Raikage and looking around the room. He counted the Tsuchikage and the Mizukage's raised hands. He turned to Tsunade and the Raikage. "Do either of you abstain from voting?"
"No, Kazekage," Tsunade said, shaking her head. "I never thought there would come a time I would agree with the Raikage, but we both vote for refusing Uchiha Madara's offer."
The Kazekage lowered his head. "Since the deciding vote rests with me, I would like to make a suggestion. I would like the Five Nations to take a moment to remember that the Jinchuurikis are, themselves, loyal citizens of their respective hidden villages. If they are to be part of negotiations, I think it best that the Hokage and the Raikage returned to their villages, spoke to their Jinchuurikis and found out what the Jinchuurikis themselves think of the situation."
There was a murmur of assent and the Tsuchikage spoke up. "An excellent suggestion. What do the Hokage and Raikage say?"
"It is indeed a reasonable suggestion," said Tsunade through gritted teeth, "however – "
"Then what more need be said?" the Tsuchikage said jovially, locking his fingers together. "The Hokage and Raikage will discuss the situation with their loyal Jinchuurikis and then we will all reconvene before Uchiha Madara's month is up to make our final decisions."
Tsunade collected the notes and papers from the desk, nodding to Kakashi to follow her out of the room.
"The Tsuchikage seemed surprisingly agreeable at the end," Kakashi remarked, as Tsunade stalked angrily down the corridor.
"Of course he seemed agreeable," she muttered, hurrying after the Kazekage who was walking ahead of them, "because he thinks he's got what he wanted! Kazekage!"
Her shout echoed down the hall. The Kazekage stopped and waited for them to catch up.
"Hokage-sama," said the Kazekage's aide with deference, bowing his head, when they approached.
Tsunade shouldered past the aide, stopped before the Kazekage and slapped him.
The sound of the slap reverberated along the stone walls of the old house. Kakashi rolled his eyes and muttered, under his breath, "Diplomacy, diplomacy," before adding privately, About keeping Tsunade out of trouble, apologies, Naruto.
"How could you suggest we ask the Jinchuurikis, Gaara?" Tsunade towered over the Kazekage, her hands on her hips. "You know Naruto. You know him perhaps better than many of the citizens of Konoha. If we asked him whether he'd hand himself over for the sake of a cure, you know exactly what he'd say! Loyal citizens of their respective hidden villages! He's the most loyal there is. You know that he'd never refuse to hand himself over!"
The Kazekage stared. Kakashi thought he looked apologetic. "You can't know that."
"But you did know that," Tsunade took one step forward and Gaara one step back, "because you know Naruto. And you made up this stupid excuse that we talk to the Jinchuurikis themselves so that you, you as Kazekage, didn't have to make up your mind there and then on the spot as to which side to take."
The Kazekage ripped off the cloth visor, revealing pale face, a shock of red hair, and an expression that was a curious mixture of rage and painful regret. The red mark from Tsunade's hand glowed on his cheek. "Yes, I know Naruto," he said. "Yes, you may look upon my suggestion as a way for me to stall for time, but a Jinchuuriki has the same rights as any other man and too often have the lives of Jinchuurikis been ruined and determined by the bad decisions of other people. It is time they had some say in their own affairs." He locked eyes with Tsunade. "I will respect whatever decision Naruto makes and I trust him to make the right one."
As the Kazekage pulled his visor back over his face and they exchanged their awkward goodbyes, Kakashi couldn't help feeling that the meeting that was supposed to unite the nations together, in a concerted effort against a common enemy, seemed only to have divided them further.
It was going to be a long ride back to Konoha.
There were many things in the ninja world that could have stood up to a solid five kilogram block of metal and glass being smashed against it – Kabuto's skull was not one of them.
Kabuto slumped forwards into his microscope, crushing his nose on the lens, and slid sideways out of his chair to sprawl between the workbenches. His hair was a mass of red, grey and ivory. His glasses shattered as his body hit the ground. Blood spread out from his head, seeping into the puddle of culture medium that Sasuke had knocked to the floor.
Sasuke stood over him with the bloody microscope in his hands, his shoulders heaving with each ragged breath he took. The moths hadn't moved from their perch on their desk. Of course they hadn't, because Sasuke hadn't used a drop of chakra to kill their master.
He set down the microscope on the workbench. It rattled. One of the parts must have come loose. He tried to wipe the blood off his face, but only succeeded in smearing more blood onto his face than before.
Madara had reneged on his side of the deal and Sasuke was first and foremost an avenger. The masked man may not have given the cure to Konoha, but he had gone to offer it to them, which in Sasuke's books was enough. The man was not as all powerful as he claimed. He had made two mistakes - he had underestimated the force of Sasuke's fury and overestimated Kabuto's ability to resist psychologically tormenting those he considered beneath him.
Kabuto wasn't moving. His face was frozen at the moment his smug smile had slipped to disbelief. His eyes stared up at the ceiling. Madara would never have the cure from Sasuke. Kabuto, who more than anybody else outside of Konoha might have found the cure, was dead and Sasuke was not going to stay with Madara any longer, especially after what Madara had done with Itachi's body.
He had sold it to Kabuto once. No doubt Madara would sell it again to other ambitious ninja medical scientists to hire them too, and the thought made Sasuke's skin crawl. He couldn't let Madara do that.
There was only one thing for it. He had to run and he had to take Itachi's body with him. Now was the time to do it. Madara was away, either on his way to or returning from the Land of Lightning. Sasuke didn't know where their hideout was, let alone how far it was from the Land of Lightning, so Madara could have been returning at that very moment, ducking his head into the cave entrance –
Sasuke shook his head and got to work.
He washed his hands in the sink, dried them and began demolishing Madara's laboratory complex. He scooped up Kabuto's notebooks, Orochimaru's files, the slides made from Sasuke's tissue samples, the vials of stem cells extracted from his bone marrow – everything that had made up Kabuto's project – and tipped them into the man's own travel bag. He slung the large satchel over his head and shoulders and tightened the strap.
Then he went to the smaller laboratories, the imaging room, the operating theatres, the additional library and set each and every one of them on fire the old-fashioned way – pushing a small barrel of concentrated alcohol into each room and dropping a match. Kabuto's own room was booby-trapped at the door, so Sasuke ignored it and moved on. The moths went next. They were slow when they were confused and he caught them with three well-aimed scalpels, pinning them to the laboratory wall.
He went to the freezer and opened the door.
Each footprint he left in the bed of frost on the floor was bright red.
In the end, he decided against burning the main laboratory. He could feel the heat of the fires warming the cave complex air and he needed to get out quick. He dashed out of the door of the laboratory, the cold weight of Itachi's body on his back, ice slipping down the neck of his shirt, and the satchel making him list to one side.
At the cave entrance, he barreled headfirst through the layers of illusions and barriers Madara had cast over it, recalling how Madara had insisted he was free to go whenever he chose to do so. He was right. The barriers gave way with the sensation of walking through a wall of bubbles layered with egg shells and Sasuke was out.
As soon as he looked back over his shoulder, however, he was struck by a feeling of terrible giddiness. The air seemed to be stretching, up and down and sideways, twisting and spinning. Colours slipped up and down the spectrum from red to yellow to vivid purple. Everything flashed technicolour for an instant then faded to monochrome and sounds assaulted him from all sides until he was utterly disorientated and could feel bile climbing to the back of his mouth.
When he was no longer certain about whether he was standing on the sky or falling off the grass, the feeling finally ceased.
He shifted Itachi's weight on his back and looked back over his shoulder again. The cave entrance to Madara's hideout that Sasuke had only moments ago leapt out from was gone. There wasn't even a cliff-face or a mountain behind him. In fact, there wasn't a mountain in sight. Madara's illusions had hidden everything.
Sasuke was standing in the middle of a wood. Rain had come by recently. The ground was still damp and the air smelt fresh.
He walked forwards. Eventually he would get somewhere. For now, there was no going back.
Thanks for reading!
...and thus falls Kabuto. Chekhov's microscope? Is this perhaps a first in Naruto fanfiction?
Next time: The night of the Second Repenters' Parade comes round
(Note: I'm going to go on a short break so the next update will probably be in around two weeks time? It might be earlier, but I would like to plan it properly. Action isn't my strong point. To be fair, my only strong point, if I may have one, is describing trees)