A/N: I'd like to make a disclaimer here that the Narutoverse isn't exactly the most enlightened world ever, and that the characters' opinions are not my own. I'd also like to apologise for the characters' fail anyway.

By the fifth day, Kurapika's fever had broken; his temperature was still higher than was healthy, but he was sweating, and he was back on his feet, if still a bit out of it.

"There's something Lord Orochimaru wants you to look at," Kabuto said, pushing his glasses back up as he finished making notes on Kurapika's chart. "Please come with me."

"Can I take a shower first?" Kurapika asked wearily, brushing his sweat-slicked hair off of his forehead with his sleeve.

"It's quite urgent," Kabuto replied. "You may take a shower after we're done."

"Alright. . . ." Kurapika absently let Kabuto lead him out of the room and down the hall, barely noticing when Sasuke – who had been waiting outside the door – silently fell into step behind them.

Kabuto, however, noticed very much. There was obviously something about Kurapika that Sasuke wasn't telling him. It was just a matter of figuring out what. He glanced back at Sasuke and adjusted his glasses again. "Shouldn't you be off training right now?"

"Hm?" Kurapika looked over his shoulder. "Oh. Hello, um. . . Sasuke?"

"Glad to see you remember my name," Sasuke said with a little smirk, utterly ignoring Kabuto. "You aren't always this spacey, are you?"

"No, I. . ." Kurapika trailed off. "I should have been more careful. I'd never actually healed anyone else before; Emission is directly opposed to Materialization, so I –"

Sasuke held up a hand. "Can you. . . start that last part over, but in normal Japanese? I have no idea what you're talking about. It's nen-related jargon, right?"

"Yes. Um. . ." Kurapika paused, trying to think of a way to word it. "Well. . . there's six different types of nen use. I'm naturally aligned with Materialization, which lets me create an object I've had image training with."

"Image training?" Kabuto asked, already taking notes.

Kurapika, reminded of Kabuto's presence, immediately clammed up and gave him a distrustful, almost paranoid look.

"We can talk about it later," Sasuke offered. Kurapika nodded, not taking his eyes of Kabuto.

Eventually, they came to a door with a tiny label on it that read "Morgue 1". Kurapika looked at the label, and furrowed his brow a little.

". . . Why do you want me to look at corpses?" He asked uneasily.

"Some of our agents were killed by something we couldn't identify," Kabuto explained. "Since it probably came from your world, we thought you might be able to tell us what made the strange injury patterns on the bodies."

Kurapika's manner suddenly changed. He was no longer a bedraggled, slightly ill young man who was being dragged around and just wanted to take a shower; he was now a bedraggled, slightly-ill young man surrounded by an air of detached professionalism, who had a job to do, and was not about to let some dead bodies get in the way of his getting to take that shower. Both Sasuke and Kabuto noted the abrupt shift, but neither commented on it.

Kabuto opened the door and held it so Kurapika and Sasuke could go through first, then walked over to a particular table and began to uncover its occupant.

The sheet wasn't even halfway off before Kurapika said: "These are gunshot wounds."

Kabuto noted something down on the clipboard he was still holding. "I see. Can you go into more detail about how these. . . 'gunshots' work?"

Kurapika immediately began rattling off facts about things called "guns" and "bullets". From the way he spoke, Sasuke got the distinct impression that Kurapika was, in fact, reciting memorised passages from a book, rather than giving an explanation of his own. Kabuto, true to form, was taking down every word, but what Kurapika was saying quickly became rather complicated. At Kabuto's suggestion, they relocated to another room where there was a large table and plenty of paper for Kurapika to start drawing diagrams on.

It was nearly half an hour before Kabuto decided he was satisfied with the information he'd gotten, but, at the end of it, he thanked Kurapika and led him to one of the semi-nice rooms, a couple wings away from Sasuke's own room (which was in the "very nice" rooms section). It had its own bathroom, and was prepared with a closet full of very plain white clothes in more-or-less Kurapika's size, a small dresser, a four-poster bed, the messenger bag Kurapika had had with him when he first arrived, and a wooden chair, but it locked from the outside, didn't have a carpet, and was a bit drafty.

"Thank you for the accommodations," Kurapika said, only briefly giving the lock a wary glance, "and for letting me stay."

"Did you think I'd let them just throw you to the wolves out there?" Sasuke asked.

Kabuto almost managed to hide his irritation at Sasuke's words. "Even if you didn't have Sasuke's favour, Lord Orochimaru considers you valuable as a source of information."

"Who's Orochimaru?" Kurapika asked.

Kabuto cleared his throat angrily. "That's Lord Orochimaru. He's one of the most powerful and brilliant ninja in the world, and has discovered the secret of immortality. If you're very lucky, you might get to meet him someday."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Orochimaru's a cranky, bedridden old man. You really don't want to have to meet him."

Kabuto gave Sasuke a disapproving look. "Is that any way to talk about the man who has helped you grow as strong as you are today?"

"You mean the man who's only been giving me power because he wants my body? I'll talk about him however the hell I want." Sasuke noticed Kurapika's eyes widen in abject horror, and then realised how that must have sounded to someone who didn't know about Orochimaru's Living Corpse Reincarnation technique. He then promptly wished he could unthink the mental image that sprung to mind. "N-not like that! It's. . . this thing where he actually has to literally take over a new body every three years."

". . . I'm not sure if that's better or worse," Kurapika said, still wide-eyed.

"Luckily," Kabuto cut in, putting his hand on the door and smiling so politely that it wrapped right back around to giving one a feeling of imminent doom, "you don't need to worry about any of that, Kurapika. Why don't you go take that shower? Sasuke and I need to have a little chat."

Kurapika didn't actually get a chance to respond before Kabuto pushed the door shut, and an only-slightly-ominous click indicated that he was now locked in. He was fairly certain that, were it to become necessary, neither the lock nor the door hinges would stand up to a firm shove. That could, however, be said of most doors and a very large percentage of walls confronted by someone who was able to open the first of the Zaoldyecks' Gates of Trial before they'd even learnt about nen. That said, however, Kurapika wasn't about to go trying anything that might make Kabuto decide to take measures a bit more creative than just putting a locked door between him and the rest of whatever facility they were at. And, just going by the cold chills he got whenever the man smiled, Kurapika was not about to do anything that might cause him to find out just how creative Kabuto was capable of getting.

. . . Hoping to put those thoughts out of his mind, Kurapika entered the bathroom and was relieved to find that had a shower and a tub, so he'd be able to take a nice soak, too.

Half an hour later, Sasuke had finally managed to not only get away from Kabuto and his stupid lecture, but also shove off the related extra chores onto a random underling. Things were going well. He decided to go check on Kurapika – and let him out of his room, since Kabuto wasn't likely to be that charitable. Luckily, during his time in Otogakure, he'd learned to be very good at picking locks, so the fact he didn't actually have the key wasn't an issue.

"Hey," he said as he opened the door. "How –"

"Get out! GET. OUT."

"I'm sorry," Sasuke said, averting his eyes and catching the damp towel Kurapika had thrown at his head. "I-I didn't know you were a girl."

"I'm not! Get out!" There was a thud as Kurapika hastened a little too quickly to get his("her", as far as Sasuke was now concerned) other leg into a pair of boxers and fell backwards onto his("her"?) rump.

Sasuke was silent for a long moment. "Well, I was about to leave, and then you went and said something so obviously false that I want to know why you'd bother to lie about it."

Kurapika finished pulling on the shorts, and was fetching a shirt from the closet when he("she", Sasuke's brain said) answered. "It. . . would probably take a while to explain."

"I have time."

Once Kurapika was dressed – and Sasuke could look without threat of getting punched in the face – they sat down across from each other; Sasuke took the lone chair, while Kurapika perched on the edge of the bed, searching for the best words to explain with.

". . . First of all, do the words 'gender identity' mean anything to you?"

"Not together like that, no," Sasuke said. "Is this a nen thing?"

A small laugh bubbled past Kurapika's lips before he could stifle it. "No, it has nothing to do with nen. It has more to do with neurology than anything else. A human fetus normally develops into male or female depending on exposure to masculinising or feminising hormones. These determine –"

"I know how sexual dimorphism in humans works," Sasuke interrupted, lacing his fingers together.

Kurapika smiled. "Okay. What happens when a fetus's developing brain gets exposed to masculinising hormones, but the rest of the body doesn't?"

After a moment of thought, Sasuke's eyes lit up in understanding. "So it's like being born stuck in Se– in a Henge no Jutsu of a girl."

Now it was Kurapika's turn to look confused. "Well, if 'Henge no Jutsu' is what the name sounds like, then. . . yes, I think?"

"It's a general-purpose way of changing one's appearance. There's actually an idiot from my home village whose signature variation on it is turning into a female version of himself." After that conversation, there was no way Sasuke was going to mention any of the other details of Naruto's Sexy no Jutsu.

". . . First: Yes, that analogy works. Second: It's okay, I don't think I want to know."

Sasuke sat up a little straighter. He knew he wasn't that bad a liar. "How do you do that?"

"I'm actually not really sure," Kurapika replied. " I do know that I'm better at it when I'm using the Scarlet Eyes."

"Is that what your clan's doujutsu is called?" Sasuke asked.

"I wouldn't call the Scarlet Eyes themselves a 'technique'. . . . They're just a recessive trait that shows itself when we feel strong emotions like anger or excitement. There are abilities associated with them, but the eyes alone are just a body part that people buy and sell like gemstones." As he spoke, Kurapika's eyes changed color.

"What." The very idea of treating someone's eyes as gemstones made absolutely no sense to Sasuke. "Why?"

"If we die when our eyes are red, they remain that way permanently," Kurapika said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You'd be surprised by what lengths people will go to, to get to look at 'the most beautiful shade of red in the world' whenever they want. That's part of why we hid, and made our village far away from anyone else. . . but then the Ryodan found us despite that."

A sick feeling settled in Sasuke's stomach again. Suddenly, the reason why the greasy man had chosen to use the word "poacher" became very clear. The Sharingan, at least, was powerful and feared enough that the Uchiha clan had always been able to live openly. He couldn't imagine what it must be like to live in constant fear of being discovered and hunted down like an animal. That was when he made a decision. "My offer still stands, you know."

Kurapika looked confused. "What offer?"

"If you help me with my revenge, I'll help you with yours." It wasn't exactly what he'd said earlier, but Sasuke felt it was close enough. The question of whether or not Kurapika could be useful to him had already been answered with a resounding "yes".

There was a long pause before Kurapika answered. ". . . I'm going to have to think about it for a while. This isn't a decision I can make on the spur of the moment like this."

Sasuke nodded. "That's okay." He stood up. "I'll come back later, then. . . and I'll remember to knock next time."

"Thanks," Kurapika said as Sasuke headed towards the door. "Um. . . if it isn't too much trouble, could you also bring some books with you next time?"

"I'll try. There's not really much to read around here." Sasuke paused before he closed the door behind him all the way. "Would you rather I leave the door unlocked for you?"

Kurapika shook his head. "I don't want to get either of us in trouble with Kabuto."

Sasuke nodded, then closed the door and started working on locking it again, when he noticed a certain presence approaching.

"Breaking into other people's rooms, are we?" Kabuto asked cheerfully. "You could have just asked me for the key, you know."

Sasuke glared, and squirrelled his lockpicks back into his sleeve with a swift motion. He didn't say anything as he righted himself and started walking away.

Kabuto tried the doorknob, and found that it turned easily. "Trying to cover your tracks, then." He produced a key and locked the door before he started walking again, using his longer legs to easily catch up with Sasuke. "So, what did you two talk about?"

"It's none of your business," Sasuke said. "Stop following me."

"I'm not following you," Kabuto said. "I'm just walking in the same direction."

"Suuuure you are." Sasuke rolled his eyes. They spent the next minute or so in silence, before something suddenly occurred to him. "You knew the entire time, didn't you?"

"Knew what, Sasuke?" Kabuto asked.

"About Kurapika."

"You'll need to be more specific than that," Kabuto said, but with a knowing grin.

Sasuke's cheeks turned a little red, and he glared. "Y-you know what I mean. About him being. . . well. . ."

"Ah, you found out about that," Kabuto said, pushing his glasses back up his nose, still grinning. "That became readily apparent as soon as I had to strip 'him' down so the cooling blankets would work."

". . . You could have just told me, instead of pulling that bullshit about 'patient confidentiality'," Sasuke complained.

"But it was about patient confidentiality, Sasuke," Kabuto said, grin settling into a smirk. "I mean, what kind of doctor would I be if I'd told you that instead of letting you find it out for yourself later?"

". . . What are you talking about?" Sasuke asked, feeling confused for what was already thrice too many times that day.

Kabuto's smirk widened. "Well, she was unconscious, at least at first, and you were spending an awful lot of time in her room. . . alone. . . sometimes practising genjutsu on her. . ."

Sasuke's face grew progressively redder as Kabuto hit each ellipsis. "What the hell kind of pervert do you think I am?" he demanded.

"I dunno. You either hide your stash really well, or don't have one." Kabuto winked, and started turning a corner that would lead him away from Sasuke's current path. "But either way, you gotta admit she's pretty cute. . . for a flat tomboy, at least."

Sasuke wasn't sure whether or not it would be worth it to take a detour for the sake of punching Kabuto, but he decided not to. The mention of Kurapika being "pretty cute" brought back to mind that tiny glimpse he'd gotten of Kurapika. . . naked. . . and that, in turn, led to something that he'd rather take care of by himself, and as soon as possible.

He hastened down the hallway back to his room.