Hinata of the White Lotus
Reunion
The hospital was bustling with activity as Hinata and Naruto stepped through the sliding glass doors. The sterile scent of antiseptics mingled with the faint aroma of fresh linens. The polished white floors gleamed under the fluorescent lights, reflecting the hurried movements of nurses and medics weaving through the halls. Hinata felt a faint pang of nostalgia; though she had rarely been to the hospital herself, the environment was undeniably tied to the life of a ninja.
They made their way to the front counter, where a nurse sat typing away on a computer. Her uniform was crisp, and she wore a warm but distracted smile as she glanced up at the pair. Behind her, the soft beeping of medical monitors punctuated the low murmur of conversations.
"Excuse me, I would like to check in my friend," Hinata said softly but firmly. She didn't miss Naruto's startled expression as he turned toward her, his mouth already opening to protest.
Before he could say anything, Hinata intercepted him with a pointed look. He huffed and crossed his arms but didn't say another word. She accepted the clipboard and paper from the nurse, gripping the pen tightly as she began filling out Naruto's details.
She knew better than to leave him alone here. Naruto was notoriously stubborn when it came to taking care of himself. If she left him to his own devices while she went to see Kurenai, he would almost certainly find a way to avoid the check-up. She couldn't allow that—not after what he had been through and what he had done to replace his arm. While his ingenuity and resilience were remarkable, it didn't mean his solution was without risks. She couldn't help but worry.
The form complete, Hinata handed the clipboard back to the nurse, who skimmed through the details. The woman paused, her eyes widening slightly as she reread what was written.
"Excuse me," the nurse said, glancing between Hinata and Naruto. "Is this serious?"
It wasn't surprising. The idea of a ninja attaching the arm of a clone to replace an amputated one wasn't exactly something that fit into standard medical protocols. Even in the world of shinobi, it bordered on the surreal.
"Yes," Hinata replied, her voice firm and unwavering. She straightened her posture, doing her best to project confidence. "Please ensure he doesn't run away and that the doctor thoroughly examines him."
She turned her head slightly to cast a meaningful glance at Naruto. Her expression made it clear: this was non-negotiable.
Naruto sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "I get it already," he muttered, holding up his hands as though in surrender. "I'm not going anywhere. It's a condition for me to see Tayuya too, so I'll make sure to do it right."
Hinata allowed herself a small sigh of relief. At least that gave her some leverage over him. She couldn't shake her concern for Tayuya either, knowing that the girl was under the care of the Interrogation Squad. The less said about their methods, the better.
"Understood," the nurse replied, nodding as she passed the clipboard off to a colleague. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"
"Yes," Hinata said, her voice softening. A flicker of anticipation lit her usually calm demeanor. "I would like to see Yūhi Kurenai. Which room has she been moved to?"
The nurse consulted her records, giving Hinata the directions she needed. With a small bow of gratitude, Hinata turned to leave. But before she stepped away, she glanced back at Naruto, her brows furrowed slightly.
"Promise me you'll let them check your arm," she said, her voice tinged with worry.
Naruto gave her a lopsided grin. "Yeah, yeah. I'll stick around. Don't worry about me."
Hinata hesitated for a moment longer before nodding and heading deeper into the hospital.
Walking down the hospital hall was its own kind of torment for Hinata. The closer she got to Kurenai's room, the heavier her heart became. Every step brought her nearer to her teacher, her surrogate mother, but each step also unearthed fresh memories of the journey that had led her here. The sight of Kurenai pierced by Orochimaru's blade haunted her like a phantom, making her pace quicken despite herself. She clenched her fists at her sides, holding her breath as emotions threatened to choke her.
The discovery of the Moonfire Blossom. Her unexpected promotion to Chūnin. The harrowing encounters with Itachi and Kisame. Learning Naruto's secret. The brutal battle against Kimimaro and the impurity. Each memory burned vivid in her mind, fueling her resolve. Her steps quickened further, turning into a near sprint as the hall blurred around her. Someone shouted for her to slow down, but she barely registered it.
Then, finally, she reached the door. The sturdy wooden barrier loomed before her, a simple yet impossibly daunting gate. She froze, her hand inches from the handle, and a wave of uncertainty crashed over her.
Would Kurenai even want to see her? After all, it was Hinata's failure that had left Kurenai at death's door. What if Kurenai resented her for the pain she had endured? What if, while Hinata had been out living her life, growing stronger, and earning accolades, Kurenai had lain in agony, cursing the student who had failed her?
Stop it, she scolded herself. Deep down, she knew these fears were irrational, a projection of her own insecurities. But they still held her frozen in place, the courage that had carried her through so many battles now crumbling in the face of this final step.
The door opened before she could summon the nerve to move.
"Hinata!" Kiba's familiar voice rang out, warm and energetic. He grinned at her, sharp teeth flashing, as he held the door wide. "Took you long enough! We've been waiting forever!" Without waiting for her to respond, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her into the room.
The bright light of the hospital room blinded her momentarily, forcing her to blink as her vision adjusted. When it cleared, the sight before her almost brought her to her knees.
Kiba was still laughing, his grip on her wrist firm but playful. Akamaru lay curled at the foot of the bed, his small chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. The pup looked utterly spent, his exhaustion a testament to the desperate journey he had undertaken to save Kurenai.
Shino stood by the window, his arms crossed and his face as impassive as ever. Yet the way he lingered close to the bed, as if unwilling to stray too far, spoke volumes more than his stoic demeanor ever could. His loyalty to their sensei radiated from him like a quiet but steadfast flame.
And then there was Kurenai.
She sat upright in bed, propped against a mountain of pillows, her scarlet eyes clear and full of life. She looked pale and frail without her usual makeup, but compared to the last time Hinata had seen her—writhing in pain, her body overcome by the poison—she was nothing short of radiant.
Her gaze softened as it met Hinata's, and the gentle smile that touched her lips chased away all of Hinata's fears.
"Hinata," Kurenai said, her voice hoarse but warm. "Welcome back."
Those two simple words unraveled something deep inside Hinata. She felt the tears before she realized they had begun to fall, hot and unstoppable, streaking down her cheeks. She tried to speak, to say something—anything—but the words caught in her throat, tangled in the overwhelming tide of relief and gratitude.
Before she knew it, she was at Kurenai's side, collapsing onto the bed and burying her face in her teacher's shoulder. The sobs came unbidden, her body trembling as she cried with abandon. She vaguely registered Kurenai's arms wrapping around her, the older woman whispering soothing words into her ear, her voice a balm to Hinata's fractured emotions.
"It's okay," Kurenai murmured, her own tears slipping down her cheeks. "I'm here, Hinata. It's okay."
Hinata wasn't sure how long she cried. Even when the tears finally subsided, she stayed where she was, hiccuping softly against Kurenai's shoulder. The familiar scent of her teacher—clean and comforting—grounded her in the moment, reminding her that Kurenai was alive, safe, and real.
When she finally pulled back, she still didn't move far, sitting close enough to keep holding Kurenai's hand as if afraid she might vanish.
"Hinata," Kurenai said again, her tone firm but kind. "I'm so proud of you. Kiba and Shino have been telling me everything. What you've done… the strength you've shown… I can hardly believe it's the same timid girl I took under my wing all those years ago."
Hinata shook her head quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't do anything. It was everyone else. I couldn't have done it without them."
"Humility is admirable," Kurenai said, squeezing Hinata's hand. "But you need to give yourself some credit. This was your mission, and you succeeded against impossible odds. No one can take that from you."
Hinata's lips quivered, and she dropped her gaze. "But it was my fault to begin with… If I had been stronger…"
"I made my choice," Kurenai interrupted, her tone sharp enough to cut through Hinata's self-recrimination. "I chose to protect you, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. That choice wasn't a failure, Hinata. It was an honor."
Hinata's breath hitched, her eyes filling with fresh tears. She looked up at Kurenai, searching her face for any hint of resentment or anger. But all she found was love and pride.
"You're stronger than you realize," Kurenai continued, brushing a hand through Hinata's hair. "You've always had that strength. All you needed was the confidence to see it."
Hinata didn't know what to say. She didn't feel strong—not in the way Kurenai seemed to believe. But in this moment, with her teacher's unwavering faith shining down on her, she dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, she could become the person Kurenai saw in her.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice cracking.
Kurenai smiled and pulled her close again, and for a moment, the world felt whole.
The room eventually filled with light laughter and conversation as the rest of Team Eight joined in. Kiba recounted Akamaru's heroic journey to deliver the Moonfire Elixir, and Shino shared quiet but heartfelt words of admiration for Kurenai's resilience. They spoke about the mission, their struggles, and their triumphs, the weight of their experiences shared and lightened among them.
By the time Kurenai began to yawn, signaling the need for rest, the tension that had hung over the team since the start of their journey had dissipated.
As they filed out of the room, Hinata cast one last look over her shoulder. Kurenai smiled at her, her eyes heavy with exhaustion but shining with pride.
Hinata stepped into the hall, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks. Team Eight was whole again, and with that, she felt like she could face anything.
After leaving Kurenai's room, Hinata walked alongside Shino and Kiba through the quiet hospital halls. The trio moved with a calmness that felt strange after weeks of high tension and life-threatening battles. When they reached the front lobby, Hinata stopped to check with the nurse on Naruto's status. She was relieved to hear he was currently being examined by a doctor. At least that much was going as planned.
Kiba and Shino, however, had their own tasks to complete. Kiba mentioned needing to report their safe return to the Inuzuka clan, and Shino nodded in agreement, saying his family would also expect an update. Before parting ways, the three of them shared a brief but warm hug. It was a quiet moment of camaraderie, a reminder of how much they had been through together.
"Don't let Naruto sneak off on you," Kiba teased with a wink before heading out the door. Shino followed silently, but the faintest nod of approval spoke volumes about his trust in Hinata to handle things.
Left alone, Hinata sat in the waiting area. It was an unusual feeling—solitude. In recent weeks, her life had been a whirlwind of events, leaving no room for introspection or self-doubt. Now, with the quiet pressing in around her, the weight of everything began to settle. She realized how much she appreciated the distraction of her friends and missions. Being alone with her thoughts had a way of spiraling into negativity, a habit she hadn't had the time to indulge in lately.
Her musings were interrupted by a voice.
"Ah, Hinata-kun." The tone was cheerful but laced with strain. She turned to see someone approaching—a familiar figure moving with slow, deliberate steps.
"Lee-san!" Hinata exclaimed, rising to her feet and bowing deeply. Relief swept over her as she took in the sight of him. He was upright and moving, albeit with difficulty. His arm and leg were encased in thick casts, and he leaned heavily on a single crutch, each step deliberate and painful.
"It's good to see you again," Lee said, his ever-bright smile shining through the obvious discomfort. "I am most thankful to you for protecting me from Gaara of the Sand." He bowed low, so deeply that he nearly toppled over.
"Please, Lee-san, you don't need to do that!" Hinata reached out instinctively, ready to catch him. "Raise your head. Anyone in the village would have done the same thing. Naruto-kun and Shikamaru-kun were also there. They deserve just as much credit, if not more."
Lee straightened slowly, his movements strained but filled with determination. "Your humility is admirable," he said, his voice filled with genuine respect. "But I have heard of your courage, and I owe you my thanks all the same."
Hinata felt her cheeks warm. She was about to protest again when Lee continued, his tone as earnest as ever.
"I am sorry I missed your match against Gaara during the Finals," he said. "I heard it was a spectacular victory. As expected from someone strong enough to defeat Neji."
Hinata hesitated, unsure how to respond. She wanted to downplay her achievements, to deflect the attention. But remembering Lee's own struggles—his fight against Gaara and the injuries that had nearly ended his career—she realized how thoughtless that would be. She straightened her back and nodded.
"He was a strong opponent," she said softly. "I just fought my hardest."
"Splendid!" Lee's sudden shout startled her and drew the attention of everyone in the lobby. Realizing his volume, he quickly toned it down, offering an apologetic grin. "Hinata-kun, your victory is truly inspiring. I swear upon my Nindo, my ninja way, that I will overcome this injury. When I do, I hope to fight alongside you one day. Please expect it."
The sheer conviction in his words filled Hinata with an emotion she couldn't quite place. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, but she managed to hold them back. Instead, she smiled—a genuine, heartfelt smile that carried all the gratitude she felt.
"I'll look forward to that day," she said sincerely.
Lee's smile widened, and he bowed again, though this time with a little less risk of falling over. "Until then, take care, Hinata-kun!" He hobbled off toward the hall leading deeper into the hospital, his pace slow but determined.
Hinata watched him until he disappeared from sight. Even injured, Lee's unwavering optimism and drive were something to admire. She whispered a quiet prayer for his recovery before sitting back down. As much as she had grown recently, she couldn't help but feel inspired by his strength of spirit.
As Lee disappeared down the hallway, Naruto stepped into view as if to take his place. His bright orange jacket made him impossible to miss, and his confident grin lit up the space around him.
"Yo, Hinata!" Naruto called out, raising his right hand in a casual wave. "I didn't make you wait long, did I?"
"No, not at all," Hinata replied, shaking her head. Her gaze immediately dropped to the stack of papers tucked under his left arm, her concern surfacing. "Did the doctor have much to say?" There was no hiding the intent behind her question.
"Nah, I'm all good," Naruto said breezily, pulling the papers free and handing them over to her without hesitation. "Check it out for yourself if it'll make ya feel better."
"Thank you." Hinata accepted the documents, flipping them open and scanning the contents carefully. Her eyes darted over the notes, absorbing every detail. True to Naruto's words, there was no immediate cause for concern. The doctor had noted that his condition warranted continued observation, but for the moment, Naruto was cleared to continue with his duties.
"See?" Naruto asked, his tone laced with a smug confidence as Hinata handed the papers back to him. "No problem at all. Just like I said."
"It's good to have that confirmed," Hinata said, her tone soft but firm. She felt a wave of relief wash over her. Despite her faith in him, knowing that he was truly in no danger eased a weight she hadn't realized she was carrying.
"Cool, so we can go get Tayuya now, yeah?" Naruto's focus shifted immediately, his excitement bubbling to the surface. His determination was palpable, and Hinata couldn't help but smile faintly at his enthusiasm.
"Yes, let's go," she said, nodding. She was eager to see Tayuya as well, to ensure that she had been treated fairly and that things were proceeding as they should. Hinata understood that the interrogation squad had a critical job to do, but their methods often left her uneasy. She hoped that by advocating for Tayuya and giving her a chance to come willingly, she had helped pave the way for trust rather than fear.
Naruto was already heading toward the exit, clearly impatient, but Hinata lingered for just a moment. Her thoughts turned briefly to Tayuya and the journey ahead. The fact that the curse mark was gone would surely count for something—it was proof that she had already taken a step away from her old life. Whatever came next, Hinata was determined to ensure Tayuya would be treated as more than just a prisoner. With that resolve strengthening her, she followed Naruto out into the afternoon light.
"So, you're absolutely sure this isn't going to hurt, right?" Uzumaki Tayuya asked, her voice laced with skepticism. She knelt on the floor, back turned to Hinata, her crimson hair swept over one shoulder to expose the ominous black pattern of Orochimaru's curse mark etched on her neck. Despite her flippant tone, there was an edge to her words—a defense mechanism against the growing anxiety twisting in her gut.
"I don't believe it will," Hinata replied, her voice steady but soft. She stood over Tayuya, her hands hovering just above the curse mark, examining it with her Nichiren Byakugan. The pulsating dark energy emanating from the mark made her stomach churn, but she refused to let her unease show. "But this will be my first time performing such a cleansing ritual. My predecessors never encountered a case like this—someone deliberately harnessing impurities and embedding them into… people."
The slight tremor in Hinata's voice wasn't lost on Tayuya. She glanced over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes. "You believe it won't hurt? That's real comforting," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Snake bastard must be proud. Only he'd cook up something as messed up as this." She forced a chuckle, trying to mask her own nerves.
Hinata didn't respond to the remark. Instead, she closed her eyes briefly, centering herself. This wasn't about her or her fears—it was about Tayuya and removing the vile mark that bound her to Orochimaru. "I'm going to begin now," Hinata said quietly, ignoring Tayuya's bluster. She placed her palm directly over the curse mark, her chakra flowing outward in a controlled, steady stream.
The moment her hand made contact, Tayuya tensed, a sharp intake of breath escaping her. The sensation wasn't what she expected—it wasn't a searing pain or a stabbing ache. It was something deeper, more invasive, like her nerves themselves were being unraveled and rewired. She grit her teeth, her hands curling into fists against the floor. This must be what the Hyūga's Gentle Fist felt like…
The curse mark reacted violently. The black pattern writhed and shifted, as if alive, desperately trying to cling to its host. Hinata's chakra surged brighter, a radiant white light spilling from her hand and illuminating the dim room. The mark fought back, pulsing with dark energy, but the balance Hinata introduced began to destabilize its hold.
Tayuya clenched her jaw, a sharp cry escaping her despite her best efforts to suppress it. The energy coursing through her was unlike anything she'd ever felt, a mixture of searing heat and freezing cold. "Damn it!" she hissed, the sensation forcing her head to bow forward. The light from Hinata's chakra grew more intense, until it reached a blinding crescendo.
And then it was gone.
Hinata stepped back, her breathing measured but clearly fatigued. The mark on Tayuya's neck had vanished completely, leaving smooth, unblemished skin in its place. The air in the room felt lighter, as though a heavy presence had been expelled.
Tayuya lifted a trembling hand to her neck, rubbing the spot where the mark used to be. The constant slithering sensation she had grown accustomed to over the years was gone. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt… free.
"That it?" Tayuya asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.
Hinata nodded, wiping her brow. "The curse mark is an impurity—a disruption between yin and yang. By restoring balance to the energy, the mark dissolves naturally." Her explanation was simple, but Tayuya could tell there was nothing easy about what she'd just done.
"No side effects?" Tayuya pressed, standing slowly and rolling her shoulder to test the area.
"Probably not," Hinata said, though her tone betrayed a slight uncertainty. "If anything, you might notice an increased ability to gather natural energy. Without the interference of the curse mark, your connection to it should be… smoother."
Before Tayuya could ask what that meant, the memory shattered like glass.
"Ah, shit!" Tayuya hissed, clutching her head as the familiar stab of a migraine tore through her skull. The abrupt shift from memory to reality was like being ripped out of one world and thrown into another. She glared up at the blond-haired man seated across from her, his hands resting lightly on the table between them.
"Warn me next time you do that, asshole!" she snarled.
"My apologies," the man said, though his tone lacked any real sincerity. He didn't even look at her, his attention shifting to the figure standing in the shadowed corner of the room.
Tayuya's glare darted toward the intruder—a tall man in dark sunglasses, his presence cold and unreadable. He exchanged a brief, quiet conversation with the blond man, ignoring her entirely. The tension in the room thickened as Tayuya's headache pulsed in time with her growing irritation.
The interrogation room was a monotonous void, all gray stone and no distinguishing features. Even the door was concealed behind a jutsu, a constant reminder of the futility of escape. Not that she planned to leave—at least, not yet.
Tayuya shifted in her chair, trying to shake off the lingering ache in her head. Whatever game these Konoha bastards were playing, she'd endure it. She wasn't about to let them break her—not after she'd finally broken free from Orochimaru's shadow.
She leaned back against her chair, glaring at the faint patterns in the ceiling, her crimson hair spilling over her shoulders as she exhaled sharply. Her mind was a tangle of thoughts, doubts, and memories she wished she could erase. But even in this bare, featureless chamber, there was no escaping her past.
She had thrown everything away to come to Konoha with Hyūga Hinata. Everything. Her comrades in the Sound, her loyalty to Orochimaru—if she had ever truly had any—and even the warped sense of stability she'd clung to in his service. Tayuya was under no illusions about the cost of her decision. There was no going back. Not that she'd ever want to.
Life in the Sound had been a waking nightmare. Orochimaru's hideouts were more laboratories than homes, places where every breath carried the sterile, metallic tang of chemicals and blood. She could still hear the endless clinking of glass vials and the low hum of machines designed for experiments she didn't dare think about. Orochimaru's cold, detached voice echoed in her memories, barking orders, giving commands, or worse, making promises he never intended to keep.
There was no rest in the Sound. No comfort. Every day was a fight for survival, whether it was training meant to push her to the brink or missions that risked her life without a second thought. Her comrades, the Sound Five, had been the closest thing to a family she had—but even that bond was twisted. Orochimaru had ensured they all lived in fear of his displeasure, and no one, not even Kimimaro, had dared to truly defy him.
Her mother's words floated to the surface of her mind, unbidden. Run. Run away from this place, Tayuya. There's nothing here for you. At the time, Tayuya had scoffed, her stubborn pride refusing to let her admit how miserable she was. But in the end, she had listened. Her mother's words had led her to Hinata, to Konoha. To this room.
"Wait here," the Yamanaka man said, his tone as bland and dismissive as ever. He turned and left with the sunglasses-wearing Jonin who had interrupted the mind-dive, the door disappearing behind them just as quickly as it had appeared.
"Can't exactly go anywhere even if I wanted to, ya dipshit," Tayuya muttered under her breath, her sharp words doing little to mask her growing frustration. She knew compliance was her best path forward, but that didn't mean she had to be polite about it.
Alone again, she clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. What's the point of all this? she thought bitterly. She had already sacrificed everything to follow Hinata. What more could they want? Hinata better not be dragging her feet on this. The thought of betrayal clawed at her—Hinata seemed nice enough, but could she really forgive Tayuya for everything? For sending Kimimaro after her team? For Naruto losing his arm?
Her spiraling thoughts were interrupted once again by the door's sudden reappearance. This time, three people stepped inside: Mitarashi Anko, her wild presence filling the room, followed closely by Hinata and Naruto.
Tayuya's heart twisted at the sight of them. Despite herself, her tension eased just a fraction. They had come for her. Sooner than she had expected.
"Let me see your neck," Anko demanded without preamble. Before Tayuya could respond, Anko grabbed her roughly, shoving her head down and sweeping her hair aside to reveal her now-spotless skin.
"It's gone," Anko murmured, disbelief lacing her tone as her hand lingered on Tayuya's neck.
"I told you it was gone," Tayuya snapped, shaking her head free from Anko's grip. "And if you've got any sense in that snake-bitten head of yours, you'll get yours removed too." She smirked as Anko's hand instinctively moved toward the curse mark on her own shoulder.
"You can do that?" Anko turned to Hinata, her voice quieter now, less brash.
"Yes," Hinata replied simply, her voice calm and steady. "As Tayuya-san said, it would be in your best interest. The mark is dangerous. It's an impurity that—"
Anko held up a hand, stopping Hinata mid-sentence. "You don't need to tell me. I know damn well what it is." Her smirk returned, though it lacked its usual edge. "But I'm gonna have to pass for now. It burns when Orochimaru's nearby. That's too useful to give up, risk or not."
"If you'd bother asking that shithead Yamanaka what he pulled from my memories, you'd know that's a load of crap," Tayuya shot back, crossing her arms. "Keeping that thing on you's just begging for trouble."
Anko's eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, Hinata stepped in. "Please let me know if you change your mind," she said, diffusing the tension. "For now, we'll be taking Tayuya-san with us."
Anko hesitated, her jaw tightening. "Fine," she said at last. "But she's coming back tomorrow. And the day after. Until we've gotten everything we need from her." Her voice was firm, but the resignation in her eyes made it clear this wasn't her call to make.
Tayuya glanced between them, skeptical. "Where are we even going?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.
Hinata turned to her, a gentle smile spreading across her face. "Home."
Tayuya froze. The word felt foreign in her ears, like a language she hadn't heard in years. She had lived in Orochimaru's hideouts for so long that the concept of "home" had become meaningless. And yet, the warmth in Hinata's voice—the way Naruto nodded with his usual, unwavering confidence—made her almost believe it.
Almost.
She followed them out of the room, her heart heavy with doubt but carrying the faintest spark of hope. For the first time in years, she dared to imagine a life beyond the shadows of the Sound.
The dim light of flickering candles cast long, uneven shadows across the ruined laboratory as Yakushi Kabuto stepped cautiously into the room. His footsteps echoed with a wet squelch, the unmistakable sound of blood-soaked floors and lifeless flesh underfoot. The air was thick with the stench of iron and decay, the suffocating aroma mingling with the faint, acrid tang of chemicals spilled from shattered glass containers.
The laboratory had been annihilated in Orochimaru's latest fit of rage, the aftermath of his wrath laid bare. Broken tables were overturned, their legs splintered and jutting like bones from a corpse. Shards of delicate beakers and vials littered the ground, their jagged edges glinting ominously in the low light. The walls were streaked with viscous fluids—some blood, some unidentifiable substances from the experiments conducted here.
Scattered across the room were the bodies. Failed experiments, Kabuto guessed, though he couldn't be entirely certain. The candlelight obscured the details, leaving them as darkened silhouettes slumped against walls, sprawled across shattered furniture, or piled in gruesome heaps. Some bore horrific signs of incomplete transformations: elongated limbs, grotesque mutations, and faces frozen in expressions of agony. Orochimaru's fury hadn't been selective. Whatever or whoever had been within reach during his outburst had met a swift and brutal end.
At the far end of the room, leaning heavily against the cracked remnants of a steel table, stood Orochimaru. His pale skin gleamed in the candlelight, slick with sweat as he gasped for breath. The strain of his current body was evident in every labored inhale, the curse of his self-inflicted immortality taking its toll. His slit yellow eyes snapped to Kabuto as he entered, venomous even in his weakened state.
"Kabuto…" Orochimaru hissed, his voice low and filled with menace.
Kabuto adjusted his glasses, carefully masking his unease as he approached. Despite his clinical demeanor, even he couldn't entirely suppress the tension crawling up his spine. "Yes, Lord Orochimaru?"
"I need a new body," Orochimaru rasped, his tone sharp with desperation. "Soon."
Kabuto nodded, his expression neutral as he glanced briefly at the carnage around him. "I'm aware, my lord," he said calmly. Then, unable to resist a touch of dry wit, he added, "Though I fear your recent… display may have reduced our pool of candidates."
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed, the flicker of a threat in their golden depths. Kabuto remained still, knowing his position was precarious. Orochimaru needed him—for now.
"I need Sasuke," Orochimaru growled, his voice taking on a predatory edge. He pushed himself upright, standing to his full height despite the visible strain. "Have him brought to me."
Kabuto resisted the urge to sigh. Of course, he thought. Sasuke was Orochimaru's obsession, his gateway to the ultimate power of the Sharingan. And while Orochimaru's fixation on the last viable Uchiha was nothing new, the circumstances were now far more precarious.
"I would carry out your orders immediately if I thought it possible, my lord," Kabuto said cautiously, choosing his words with care. "However…" He hesitated, weighing his options. No amount of careful phrasing would make what he had to say any easier to hear. "Kimimaro has passed on. And it seems Tayuya has… betrayed us."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Orochimaru stared at him, the candlelight flickering ominously in his serpentine gaze. "What are you saying?" he asked, his voice quiet but crackling with menace.
Kabuto glanced at the ground, then back to Orochimaru, his face impassive. "I'm saying the Sound Five are no longer viable. They cannot retrieve Sasuke for you."
Orochimaru's lips curled back in a snarl, his expression twisting with rage. "Do not tell me that girl—that child—defeated Kimimaro."
"I'm afraid that seems to be the case," Kabuto replied, adjusting his glasses to hide the flicker of unease in his eyes. "We underestimated Hyūga Hinata. She has proven… resourceful."
Orochimaru's hand clenched into a fist, his claws digging into his own palm. His anger was palpable, radiating from him in waves. "You have verified this yourself?" he demanded, his voice a venomous whisper.
"Yes." Kabuto nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. "Or rather, I have witnesses. And I believe it would be best if you heard it from them directly."
Orochimaru's piercing gaze bore into him, unblinking. The silence stretched, heavy with tension, before Orochimaru finally gestured with a flick of his hand. "Bring them."
Kabuto glanced behind him to where he knew the door to be. Yet no one entered through the doorway. Instead, the masked man phased through the wall itself, moving like a specter.
"Ya-hoo!" the masked figure called out cheerfully, raising a hand in a gesture that seemed mockingly casual. "Long time no see! I missed you—"
His words were cut short as Orochimaru's infamous Kusanagi sword lashed out, striking through the man's chest with the speed of a serpent's bite—or so it should have. Instead, the blade passed harmlessly through him, as though he were made of mist.
"Whooo!" The masked man twisted his body dramatically, throwing his arms up as if in exaggerated terror. "That scared me!"
Kabuto stiffened, his eyes darting between the masked man and Orochimaru. His lord's expression was one of barely contained fury, the golden slits of his eyes narrowing dangerously. The room itself seemed to shift under the weight of Orochimaru's growing displeasure, the faint crackle of unease palpable in the air. "Kabuto… what is the meaning of this?" Orochimaru hissed, his voice low and sharp as a blade, cutting through the oppressive silence.
The words cut deeper than they seemed, loaded with implication. Kabuto's role as a former spy for the Akatsuki was no secret to Orochimaru—he had been sent by Sasori to infiltrate the Snake Sannin's ranks, and though Kabuto had flipped allegiances long ago (or so he claimed), Orochimaru's paranoia was boundless. This intrusion could easily be interpreted as Kabuto's betrayal coming to light. The idea alone made Kabuto's blood run cold.
Kabuto adjusted his glasses, fighting to keep his voice steady. "I assure you, my lord, this is as unexpected for me as it is for you," he replied carefully, his tone measured to avoid further provoking his temperamental master. "I have no knowledge of their intentions."
Before Orochimaru could lash out further, Tobi stepped in, his carefree tone cutting through the tension like a blade through smoke. "Now, now, don't be so hard on Kabuto-kun!" he said with a playful wave, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "He didn't invite us here. We showed ourselves in."
Orochimaru's gaze flicked from Tobi to Kabuto and back again, suspicion etched deeply into his sharp features. His lips curled into a dangerous smirk, though the venom in his voice remained unmistakable. "How very bold of you. Us?" he spat, his tone laced with contempt.
As if in answer, a plant-like figure began to rise from the floor, dark green tendrils unfurling with a smooth and eerie grace. The Venus-flytrap-like outer shell peeled open, revealing a humanoid figure with a face split neatly in two—one side pitch black, the other an unsettling pale white.
"We are here as well," the creature said in a calm, dual-toned voice that reverberated unnervingly. Its words carried no inflection, no warmth, as though they were spoken by two halves of a consciousness alien to one another. Kabuto recognized him instantly. Zetsu.
For a moment, Kabuto felt the weight of Orochimaru's piercing gaze return to him, his silence more damning than any accusation. Orochimaru's paranoia had always been his greatest weapon, and now it seemed poised to become Kabuto's greatest liability. Did he still think that he brought them here? Kabuto's mind raced, calculating every angle.
"Speak quickly," Orochimaru hissed, his voice low and threatening. "Why are you here?"
Tobi tilted his head playfully, the mask giving no hint of his expression beneath. "We bring information," he said lightly, his tone as carefree as it was calculated. "Information you will want to hear. And after that, we propose a trade."
Orochimaru's tongue flicked out briefly, his golden eyes narrowing as he considered the masked man's words. He despised the Akatsuki, but his insatiable curiosity burned brighter than his hatred. "Go on," he said, his tone laced with venom. He would listen, but Kabuto could feel the unspoken warning in the air—if the information did not satisfy Orochimaru, his wrath would fall swiftly, and Kabuto doubted he would be spared.
Zetsu stepped forward, his split face tilting slightly as he began to speak. He recounted in precise detail the events of Kimimaro's final battle, his defeat at the hands of Hyūga Hinata and her team. The mention of Itachi's "death" came next, followed by an account of the brewing conflict in Konoha—a struggle between Danzo and Itachi, both vying for control behind the scenes.
When Zetsu finished, Orochimaru's expression remained unreadable. He tapped his fingers against his forearm, his eyes narrowing in thought. "And what," he finally said, "should I care for these things? I have no interest in Itachi's schemes, nor in Konoha's internal power struggles."
Kabuto cleared his throat gently, stepping forward. "If I may, my lord, this could complicate our plans to obtain Sasuke. Both Danzo and Itachi will undoubtedly seek to control him. The window to take him unnoticed will shrink significantly."
Orochimaru's gaze darkened, but he didn't dismiss Kabuto's point. After a moment, he turned back to Tobi. "And what is this trade you speak of? Surely you don't mean to offer your body in Sasuke's place?"
Tobi laughed, an unnervingly hollow sound. "Not exactly," he said. "However, we do come offering a body. Specifically his." He gestured toward Zetsu, who remained silent, his expression inscrutable.
Orochimaru's eyes glittered with intrigue as his gaze shifted to Zetsu. "And how is that supposed to interest me?"
Tobi's tone became more serious, dropping its usual air of mockery. "We believe you've taken an interest in what you call 'Hashirama cells.'" He spoke the words with deliberate nonchalance, as if tossing a bone to a hungry beast. "White Zetsu's body is composed almost entirely of those cells. While it may not be an Uchiha, it is certainly the next best thing for someone like you."
Kabuto stiffened, his mind racing. Hashirama cells? If Tobi's claims were true, Zetsu was potentially a goldmine of genetic material—something Orochimaru had spent years obsessing over. And yet, the offer felt almost too good to be true.
Orochimaru's tongue flicked out again, his mind clearly churning with possibilities. "Assuming I believe you," he said slowly, "what do you want in return? And do not waste my time with lies about altruism."
Tobi chuckled. "All we ask for is a few of your cursed-marked warriors. Two or three will do. And if you have anything that can amplify their powers, we'll gladly take it as well."
The room fell silent. Orochimaru's sharp gaze darted between Tobi and Zetsu, his mind no doubt analyzing every angle of their request. "What is your aim?" he asked finally, his voice a low hiss.
Tobi's single visible eye gleamed beneath his mask. "A new world order," he said simply.
The words hung in the air, tantalizingly vague and yet deeply compelling. Kabuto could see the spark of interest igniting in Orochimaru's eyes. For all his distrust, Orochimaru was a creature of ambition, and promises of upheaval and revolution were the very bait he could never resist.
After a long pause, Orochimaru's lips curled into a predatory smile. "Very well," he said. "I accept. I have three subordinates whose usefulness has run its course. Take them—and let us see what you can do with this so-called 'new world order.'"
Tobi clapped his hands together, his tone returning to its mocking cheerfulness. "Excellent! I knew you'd see reason. Let's get started, shall we?"
As Tobi and Zetsu moved to finalize their arrangements, Kabuto's mind raced with questions. What are they planning? And what place, if any, did they all have in this so-called new world?
For now, those questions would remain unanswered. But one thing was certain—this deal had just placed them on a very dangerous path.