The Things He Missed
Disclaimer… standard. I won't belabor the point.
Sabaku no Hime. I'm trying to pull out of his head now, since he's so hard to write. We'll see how it ends up…
2. The Things He Missed…
Adela led her charge back to her home slowly, as her bones were frail, and she'd been sedentary for the last several years. 'The bowl told me where to find you. Sand landed at the bottom and I saw a vision of ye,' she told her silent companion.
She didn't expect him to say much, and wans't disappointed. 'The bowl was urgent, as if you had some huge task that cannot wait,' she told him, and he simply followed her. 'I was told to heal you as well as I can so that I may set you out,'
'Hn,' he replied. His dirty hair, formerly white hung in lank threads down his back and his face was coated deeply with sand. She doubted he'd know himself if he saw a mirror right then.
She led him to her small cottage, on the outskirts of a small village, and took him inside where he proceeded to fall unconscious on the third tatami.
Adela decided that she'd best clean him and then try to heal him.
Getting him clean would be a problem though. Her old limbs and her old vows. Instead, she called the neighbor boy, a strapping seventeen year old to clean the young man and lay him on the cot in her main room.
Adela crushed a poultice in her mortar and applied it to his bloodied face. It consisted mostly of witch hazel and peat moss, as well as the mud from her yard that had special properties since four shrine maidens had blessed her garden on the sixth day of the sixth month at sunrise that what she planted may always grow.
Back when there were shrine maidens though.
That was long and long ago though.
She noticed that he was missing several chunks of skin, and debated what to do about that. There was one on his face, on his cheek, that would likely scar for life if something wasn't done about it. His teeth showed through the hole in his face, shining grotesquely, bloody and sandy, clotting and infecting.
She was an herb woman and midwife, she couldn't regrow skin that had been ripped off. The boy needed a medic. A doctor of some sort, but she hadn't the money to pay for it, and doubted he did either, by the look of his clothing. He had no pockets, save for the one he'd had weapons in.
Though she didn't ask many questions, since her seeing bowl had sent herfor him, she wondered who and what he was that he had no need for money, but need for weapons. His clothing was far too fine for him to be a highwayman.
Adela packed his face in clotting mud and went next door for young Neb again.
She only got halfway there though, since she was so bloody tired from dragging the injured boy home.
'Neb,' she called loudly. 'Neb, I've need of you.'
No one came to her call, strangely enough.
Exhausted, she shrugged, and tottered back into the small cottage and busied herself at the stove, heating water for willowbark tisane to counter any fever he might get.
Quickly, she got an old rag and doused it in cool water, placing it on his forehead as she pulled her quartz pendant over her head.
She performed a quick blessing, and made the tisane, sitting down at the table while it steeped and cooled a little.
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He woke with the taste of dirt in his mouth and pain lancing from every point on his body. After his groggy mind cleared a bit, he damned the bone armor that formed under his skin, and not quickly enough at that.
From the feel of it, his organs had suffered some squishing, and his skin was all but destroyed.
He'd been sandblasted.
Damn that crazy red haired fool. He and the high and mighty hidden village nin, who would all be better if Orochimaru sama ruled them. Those fools, always at war. Orochimaru sama would make that stop. He would make everything the way it should be. He would have every jutsu ever thought up, and be all powerful, as it should be.
Orochimaru sama was the only one fit to rule anything, anyway.
He left his eyes closed, not wanting to see where he was, since he knew it wasn't his bed at his home in the village of sound. Nothing smelled quite like home, comforting and damp; but he couldn't go home just yet. He was far too weak and damaged; the stupid sickness was taking more than a toll on him since he didn't have Kabuto to make the pain and symptoms go away. It had taken all he had to get to the old woman's house.
He'd been too tired and hurt to kill her, and since she was offering help and dug him out of the sand trap, he'd gone with her and decided not to kill her until later.
actually, his face crinkled a little in thought, Orochimaru sama might be able to use a seer. But the woman was also a healer… She might be able to do something about the degradation of his bodies. A thrill coursed through Kimimaro at the thought of her being able to do something for him. He might still be able to properly serve Orochimaru sama yet, and become his container.
That could help make up for his abysmal failure with the red haired child and the green spandex wearing mutant. Drunken fist. He'd looked at the boy's style, and it was nothing he could copy without much hard and long training. Pity.
But he couldn't go back. He'd failed. Failure was death to Orochimaru sama. He should have died in the sand pile. Instead he'd been saved by a stupid old bat. Bitch. He should be dead. He'd rather be dead.
But if he wasn't going to be dead yet, he'd take the healer back to Orochimaru sama, and then let her make him the next container. That would please Orochimaru sama. He'd failed, but he lived; so he'd bring back a prize that would make Orochimaru's original plan come to fruition.
His master would like that, after all, he loved Kimimaro; he'd raised him and turned him into the container for his dreams and plans.To be able to fulfill the destiny that he'd been given, even after a failure, would redeem him to Orochimaru sama.
After all, Orochimaru sama was the only one to ever love Kimimaro. He'd raised him, and taught him; he'd turned him into his protégée.
He would do well by his master.
Smiling gently, the light of devotion in his closed eyes, Kimimaro slept and dreamed of his Orochimaru sama, and the victory he would win for him. The scenes were abstract, full of bright blocks of color and very little sense, but the echo of Orochimaru's voice telling Kimimaro how he'd always wanted only him as his container, and was so glad that Kimimaro had found the way to make his dreams come true.
KIMIMARO woke quickly, as was his wont, since Kabuto had a habit of poking him with scalpels and needles when he was supposed to wake. He grabbed the hand that he felt coming towards his head and squeezed, realizing that the loose, papery feeling skin was not the Kabuto demon.
He'd always hated Kabuto. He was as high in Orochimaru sama's regard as Kimimaro himself, which made him burn somewhere in his stomach. Kabuto was a twisted little fuck too, always poking and prodding with needles, hiding his intentions behind his spectacles and sucking up to Orochimaru sama, trying to displace Kimimaro from his affection.
A feminine gasp echoed in what sounded like a fairly small space, and Kimimaro opened his eyes.
'I mean ye no harm, young one,' came the croaky voice. 'I have been healing ye, if ye recall.'
He let go of the hand, realizing that the old woman couldn't harm him even if she tried.
'It is good that ye have awakened.' She went on. 'Ye have been asleep for near a week.'
A week? He'd lost a week? Orochimaru sama must be worried; he'd have likely sent out some men to find him. He'd best get back so his master needn't worry any longer.
'I am well enough old woman,' he grated out, voice raw and whistling slightly through some problem in his face. He sat up and glanced around at the small home. Noting nothing interesting, he found his clothing on a chair by the bed and walked over to get them.
The old woman's scandalized gasp startled him slightly, so he turned to her as he was pulling his pants up. 'Old woman, what is it?'
She was turned away from him, and didn't reply.
He glanced towards where she was looking, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. 'What is it, old woman?' he asked again.
'Ye… ye are not dressed. I cannot look upon ye.' She offered haltingly, waving at him behind her. 'Please, get yourself decent.'
Kimimaro shrugged and pulled on the rest of his clothing. 'Come old woman, you join me.' He told her flatly. 'You will come and serve Orochimaru sama. You may have this privilege as you might be able to do something with the remainder of your life.'
He saw her cringe and wondered why she was doing something so stupid. What a waste of energy.
'I go nowhere. I live here. I am midwife and herb woman for this village,' she told him, turning her wrinkled face to him. 'I have been here since I was birthed, and learned from my ma about healing. I take care of this village till the day I die.' She told him.
'Really.' He said softly. 'You will come with me.' He told her again, tone brooking no argument.
She laughed at him. Admittedly, it was a small, humorless chuckle as she moved to a pot on the stove, but she laughed at him.
He'd bashed her over the head and caught her crumpling form before he'd fully decided what to do.
She'd come with him. He'd told her that. He'd warned her. It was her own fault.
He set her down for a moment as he pulled one of his favorite bone swords from his arm and looked briefly into a looking glass she had in the kitchen.
That was why the words were coming funny. He had a hole in his cheek. But it was stitched shut and starting to heal from the looks of it. There was only a tiny bit of yellowish pus coming from it, and he decided he'd opened the scabs when he'd spoken.
Well then, he thought as he picked up the old woman and slung her limp body over his shoulder, time to get going.
He stepped out into the sun, into a quiet garden, buzzing softly with insects, and glanced around. There seemed to be no one moving at the moment, which would aid him leaving with her.
The hole in his face felt funny under the sun, and it was drying his mouth out too, so he laid the old woman down in the garden, and went inside to grab a swath of material he could use to cover his mouth.
Maybe the Kabuto demon could heal the hole in his face later, but it was best not to let Orochimaru sama see the fact that he could be injured by something other than terminal illness.
He'd be disappointed, and saddened.
Kimimaro wouldn't have Orochimaru sama deciding on another container just because of a little hole in his face.
There was a white silk sash holding one of her curtains in place. It looked clean enough, and wide enough that he could wrap his face in it. So he did, and left the house again, picking up the old woman and slinging her over his shoulder again.
Quickly he got his bearings and held to the fence post at the edge of her garden since he was strangely dizzy. After his head stopped spinning, he used chakra to fuel his leaps towards the forest where he could hide and be relatively safe if he became too ill to move.
He had to pause often, since the old biddy was heavy and he was still weak from his illness and week long recuperation, but he hit the outer edge of the forest her village was in by early evening, and decided it would be a good thing to travel through the night.
Orochimaru sama would be waiting. He would be expected, since Orochimaru sama loved him and wanted to use him as a container. So the sooner he could get there with his prize, the sooner Orochimaru sama would stop worrying and be able to use Kimimaro's body as a container.
It took him four days to reach the hidden village of sound, and thankfully, the old biddy hadn't woken once during the trip, although she was turning a funny color and had been kind of stiff for a while back there. But it didn't matter. He was home, with his prize, and Orochimaru sama would be pleased.
He rested for a few minutes, marshalling his strength since he was still ill and damaged, but it wouldn't do for Orochimaru sama to see him less than strong, so he rested. He didn't want to; he wanted to burst right into Orochimaru sama's library and deliver the old woman and himself to the snake sannin like gifts.
When he had enough strength to burst in like a victorious general instead of a wounded animal, he started walking towards the village.
A few of Orochimaru sama's men rushed to meet him halfway across the field, but for some reason, they had weapons drawn. Most likely because he brought a stranger among them, but he dangled his sword from his free hand anyways. It wouldn't do to let them think he'd become soft or damaged somehow.
Sabaku no Hime That's it for now peeps, I'm sorry for not updating for… four or five months was it? Things have been nuts, but I've not abandoned any of my stories, just a long hiatus.
I'm doing the next chapter after a few months in his time, so you won't know exactly what happens here until it comes through in the plot. I hope none of you mind too much, but I already know what happens, and think it's best to leave it off like this…
Until next time…