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Mar. 8th, 2006 12:10 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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chuunin_archiveTitle: Curtain Call
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fan_geek
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: Sasuke, Sai, Orochimaru, Kabuto
Word Count: 1,217
Rating: PG-13
Summary: On stage, Sasuke is alone. It doesn't matter if the other co-actors sing, dance, or read from the scrawl etched across the underside of their arms - and even if they throw in a walk-on roll, he's still by himself.
Author's Notes: Totally timeskip-Otogakure stuff. I was bored. And… Omg a DRABBLE. Yeah. Again.
Well, Sasuke certainly wasn't expecting that when the Snake and Kabuto came slinking back into the proverbial lair, all smiles and with that self-assured air. Draped in his rich yukata that tied securely at his waist with a gnarled violet bow, he could only stare on with a curious lift to his brow, the sick purple rings beneath his eyes accentuated by the flicker of candlelight.
The kid… Wasn’t wearing a full shirt. That’s what he first noticed. He was built like a ninja – muscled and hard, tendons rippling with every smooth step, his agile movements making up for whatever grace he seemed to lack. But there was nothing cold on his face. In fact, he smiled, and not at all like the brilliant grin that haunted his dreams, but a simple upturn of his lips as dark orbs peaked from between the tight creases of his eyes. Not… Frightening, at all. Just… unsettling.
The Snake said something, but it went unheard. And then he spoke again, this time with much more insistence, and there was enough of a threat in his tone that Sasuke couldn’t help but tune his ears in just to get the bastard off his back. “What was that?”
“Sai. I said ‘Sai’, Sasuke-kun – this boy’s name is Sai, and he will be staying in Otogakure for the remainder of the year.” The Snake’s annoyance made his voice slippery like thick tar on hot pavement, and if Sasuke hadn’t known any better, he might’ve taken heed.
Instead, the remnants of an age-old smirk quirked at his lips, shadowy tendrils dusting over his shoulder blades with their raggedness, overgrown and uncut for quite some time. Obsidian glinted from behind the fall of his bangs that fell back past his cheeks at the cocky hiking of his chin. “Sai, huh? Doesn’t look like much.”
He could see rather than hear Kabuto’s chuckling as the man’s shoulders quivered, glasses gone opaque with the way the light caught them, lips tugged back just the slightest bit. The Snake’s gaze was sharp, and his breathing had hitched a bit, chest constricting beneath the folds of his gaudy robes, even as he took smiled in that sickening way. Even his sunken cheeks had sunken, and that was saying something. He was growing antsy as of late, and his replacement body was waging war with his own chakra pathways. Sasuke didn’t need the Sharingan to predict the future. And yet they all seemed to be waiting for something, alone in the open hall that lead into intricate stairway systems and hidden rooms – some of which housed guests, and some of which housed test subjects. The dungeons below crawled with filth, and yet he had found that standing there and staring through the bars, into the soulless eyes of countless murderers and into the hopeful, teary gazes of innocents, had done nothing for him. He had thought that he’d find a bit of solace there, but all he had found was the biting stench of his own weakness. Even corpses lacked that poignant reek.
The one called ‘Sai’ tilted his head just a bit so that his inky head of hair shifted in a way that seemed to piss the youngest Uchiha off immediately, eyes hiding away behind the upturning of his lids. There was no mirth there, or cheer, or sun. It wasn’t real.
“I wonder, Sasuke-san, if my inability to impress you on this first meeting is due to a form of compensation you’re housing.”
That seemed to be the wrong reply, for without missing a beat and with zero warning, a kunai was at the boy’s throat, pressing into his skin and drawing a thin line of blood that crept over the cut and spilled slowly, like wine against his the paleness of his jugular. Even Sasuke had more color to him than that, after years of minimal sunlight – and he had to hand it to the kid for the inches he had on him, standing nearly a head taller, and still with that eerie little smile on his face. “Reiterate. Pay attention to detail, this time, too.” He hissed into his neck, their chests nearly touching with how close he had forced himself in, the silky brush of his yukata tickling the bare abdomen below.
Sai had yet to move, statuesque, the rise and fall of his shoulders a calm and confident flow. And when he opened his mouth, his tone was as lighthearted and as amicable as if they were having a friendly chat over tea. “I don’t think your dick is as big as you’re trying to make it seem.”
Orochimaru hissed – that was his way of his showing amusement, when all he really wanted to do was bend one of them over a table – and Kabuto snorted. Actually snorted, like this was all some big joke and Team 7 would jump out from behind the satin curtains, yell, “Surprise!” and he could go back to Konoha and live like Itachi never took a katana to their parents.
But Sai was still standing there, smiling, and it was still dark, and his heart still felt heavy, and there was no sunshine fluttering from behind the curtains. There was only darkness, and that ever-present feeling of being alone, despite the vast amount of breathing bodies crawling about the facility. The sharpened edge pressed with more force and then fell back just as suddenly, only to be sent sailing through the air and into the massive wooden shelf to the right of Kabuto’s head. He could’ve sworn he saw the man jump at the loss of a few silver strands.
“Yeah?” Crimson fluttered as he turned, robe wafting out behind him until he fell to a stop feet away, neck craning so he could glance over his shoulder at the newcomer with all the blankness the dead walls could offer. Orochimaru and Kabuto still waited, in suspense. “I’ll show you to your room, but you’re going to tell me about Konoha while we walk.” Baited breath, at the edges of their seats, baited baited baited…
“Lead the way.”
Exhale.
As the two traversed the hall and disappeared up the left stairwell, all noiseless movements and silent voices, the Snake slumped just a bit, curled lips splitting to reveal rows of white. Kabuto was at his side, eyes on his master, hands folded behind his back.
“…How entertaining. If one of them ends up dead by morning, do clean up the mess before informing me. Sleep well, Kabuto.” And at that, he was gone, with only the slightest puff of smoke that dissipated seconds after and left Kabuto with nothing but the sound of his own rhythmic breathing to keep him company. He was used to it, though. He didn’t expect anymore or any less out of the Sannin. He’d need to hurry if he was to check the verity of the security system installed throughout the newcomer’s living space, and reinstall and reinforce Sasuke’s own after he’d surely found and destroyed the set up in his own room for, what, the twelfth time now? And he could already feel intense chakra blazing from the floors above, proving that, yes, there would be some sort of mess to clean up in the morning. He’d just… leave it to the servants.
The curtains closed.
Author:
fan_geekFandom: Naruto
Characters: Sasuke, Sai, Orochimaru, Kabuto
Word Count: 1,217
Rating: PG-13
Summary: On stage, Sasuke is alone. It doesn't matter if the other co-actors sing, dance, or read from the scrawl etched across the underside of their arms - and even if they throw in a walk-on roll, he's still by himself.
Author's Notes: Totally timeskip-Otogakure stuff. I was bored. And… Omg a DRABBLE. Yeah. Again.
Well, Sasuke certainly wasn't expecting that when the Snake and Kabuto came slinking back into the proverbial lair, all smiles and with that self-assured air. Draped in his rich yukata that tied securely at his waist with a gnarled violet bow, he could only stare on with a curious lift to his brow, the sick purple rings beneath his eyes accentuated by the flicker of candlelight.
The kid… Wasn’t wearing a full shirt. That’s what he first noticed. He was built like a ninja – muscled and hard, tendons rippling with every smooth step, his agile movements making up for whatever grace he seemed to lack. But there was nothing cold on his face. In fact, he smiled, and not at all like the brilliant grin that haunted his dreams, but a simple upturn of his lips as dark orbs peaked from between the tight creases of his eyes. Not… Frightening, at all. Just… unsettling.
The Snake said something, but it went unheard. And then he spoke again, this time with much more insistence, and there was enough of a threat in his tone that Sasuke couldn’t help but tune his ears in just to get the bastard off his back. “What was that?”
“Sai. I said ‘Sai’, Sasuke-kun – this boy’s name is Sai, and he will be staying in Otogakure for the remainder of the year.” The Snake’s annoyance made his voice slippery like thick tar on hot pavement, and if Sasuke hadn’t known any better, he might’ve taken heed.
Instead, the remnants of an age-old smirk quirked at his lips, shadowy tendrils dusting over his shoulder blades with their raggedness, overgrown and uncut for quite some time. Obsidian glinted from behind the fall of his bangs that fell back past his cheeks at the cocky hiking of his chin. “Sai, huh? Doesn’t look like much.”
He could see rather than hear Kabuto’s chuckling as the man’s shoulders quivered, glasses gone opaque with the way the light caught them, lips tugged back just the slightest bit. The Snake’s gaze was sharp, and his breathing had hitched a bit, chest constricting beneath the folds of his gaudy robes, even as he took smiled in that sickening way. Even his sunken cheeks had sunken, and that was saying something. He was growing antsy as of late, and his replacement body was waging war with his own chakra pathways. Sasuke didn’t need the Sharingan to predict the future. And yet they all seemed to be waiting for something, alone in the open hall that lead into intricate stairway systems and hidden rooms – some of which housed guests, and some of which housed test subjects. The dungeons below crawled with filth, and yet he had found that standing there and staring through the bars, into the soulless eyes of countless murderers and into the hopeful, teary gazes of innocents, had done nothing for him. He had thought that he’d find a bit of solace there, but all he had found was the biting stench of his own weakness. Even corpses lacked that poignant reek.
The one called ‘Sai’ tilted his head just a bit so that his inky head of hair shifted in a way that seemed to piss the youngest Uchiha off immediately, eyes hiding away behind the upturning of his lids. There was no mirth there, or cheer, or sun. It wasn’t real.
“I wonder, Sasuke-san, if my inability to impress you on this first meeting is due to a form of compensation you’re housing.”
That seemed to be the wrong reply, for without missing a beat and with zero warning, a kunai was at the boy’s throat, pressing into his skin and drawing a thin line of blood that crept over the cut and spilled slowly, like wine against his the paleness of his jugular. Even Sasuke had more color to him than that, after years of minimal sunlight – and he had to hand it to the kid for the inches he had on him, standing nearly a head taller, and still with that eerie little smile on his face. “Reiterate. Pay attention to detail, this time, too.” He hissed into his neck, their chests nearly touching with how close he had forced himself in, the silky brush of his yukata tickling the bare abdomen below.
Sai had yet to move, statuesque, the rise and fall of his shoulders a calm and confident flow. And when he opened his mouth, his tone was as lighthearted and as amicable as if they were having a friendly chat over tea. “I don’t think your dick is as big as you’re trying to make it seem.”
Orochimaru hissed – that was his way of his showing amusement, when all he really wanted to do was bend one of them over a table – and Kabuto snorted. Actually snorted, like this was all some big joke and Team 7 would jump out from behind the satin curtains, yell, “Surprise!” and he could go back to Konoha and live like Itachi never took a katana to their parents.
But Sai was still standing there, smiling, and it was still dark, and his heart still felt heavy, and there was no sunshine fluttering from behind the curtains. There was only darkness, and that ever-present feeling of being alone, despite the vast amount of breathing bodies crawling about the facility. The sharpened edge pressed with more force and then fell back just as suddenly, only to be sent sailing through the air and into the massive wooden shelf to the right of Kabuto’s head. He could’ve sworn he saw the man jump at the loss of a few silver strands.
“Yeah?” Crimson fluttered as he turned, robe wafting out behind him until he fell to a stop feet away, neck craning so he could glance over his shoulder at the newcomer with all the blankness the dead walls could offer. Orochimaru and Kabuto still waited, in suspense. “I’ll show you to your room, but you’re going to tell me about Konoha while we walk.” Baited breath, at the edges of their seats, baited baited baited…
“Lead the way.”
Exhale.
As the two traversed the hall and disappeared up the left stairwell, all noiseless movements and silent voices, the Snake slumped just a bit, curled lips splitting to reveal rows of white. Kabuto was at his side, eyes on his master, hands folded behind his back.
“…How entertaining. If one of them ends up dead by morning, do clean up the mess before informing me. Sleep well, Kabuto.” And at that, he was gone, with only the slightest puff of smoke that dissipated seconds after and left Kabuto with nothing but the sound of his own rhythmic breathing to keep him company. He was used to it, though. He didn’t expect anymore or any less out of the Sannin. He’d need to hurry if he was to check the verity of the security system installed throughout the newcomer’s living space, and reinstall and reinforce Sasuke’s own after he’d surely found and destroyed the set up in his own room for, what, the twelfth time now? And he could already feel intense chakra blazing from the floors above, proving that, yes, there would be some sort of mess to clean up in the morning. He’d just… leave it to the servants.
The curtains closed.
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