Fragile

Fragile

By AngeloftheOdd

There were few things in the universe, Orochimaru thought, that could endure. Nations vanished in the fog of war, species went extinct, even the light of the stars themselves were merely flickering reminders of their deaths some eons away in space. The human body, he knew all too well, was not destined to last. How cruel were the gods to house even the most vibrant of minds and souls in such fragile vessels. This temporary form he now inhabited would again begin to rot and a new one needed to replace it. He would find a way to solve this problem permenently.

Or rather, Kabuto would. If anyone was able to find the key to true immortality, it would be his brilliant and most dedicated doctor. Kabuto, who had no scruples tampering with nature's design. Kabuto who viewed him already as something divine. Whose love gave sway over any qualms he might entertain about such matters. Orochimaru doubted his med-nin had any fears or doubts to begin with. It's what made him so admirable in his eyes.

Though, he would admit it to no one, the great Sennin did live in constant fear. He was terrified of death. At the thought of non-existence. During his battle with The Third, his former teacher and mentor, he had been forced to stare into that void of black nothingness. It had shaken him to his very core.

The pain afterward had been almost unbearable. Yet, there was Kabuto, tending to his wounds and easing his fevered mind with words of comfort. When all others had failed him, when the world looked down on him with fear and loathing, Kabuto was there. Never disappointing, a look of adoration in his eyes. He had never met another who truly understood his plight, such as this bespectacled, grey-haired boy did. Orochimaru was not one to believe in such a romantic notion as fate, but he had to concede that, sometimes, unknown forces could bring two people together in unexpected ways.

Villian, he was called by those who were too blind to know any better. Traitor. Mad-Man. Freak. Unnatural. He had gathered others who had met the same cruelty at the hands of the ignorant, and had given them new hope. Something to believe in. The Sound Village. The Village of Outcasts. His followers looked upon him with a mixture of awe and fear. To them, he was a vengeful deity, ready to strike down the most weak among them. Did they not see that it was fear of betrayal that drove him to such drastic punishments. No. Of course not. Only Kabuto saw such things. Kabuto, the one who judged the others with cold green eyes from behind the glare of his glasses. The one who could detect the scent of disloyalty the way a hound sniffs out a rabbit.

Yes. Kabuto would find the solution and save him from the clutches of death. He would make him a true god among men. How droll, he thought, that the person who knew him best, his most ardent worshiper, was the only being who could make him feel so weak. So human. Kabuto knew the secrets of his soul, knew exactly what he needed, how to find the words most pleasing to his ear. Without him there to give him strength, Orochimaru was frail and scared and oh so alone. The dread of losing him was too terrible to contemplate. Eternity would count for nothing without him at his side.

Orochimaru glanced down at the man now slumbering beside him. Chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. A look of innocence upon him found only on the face of the dreaming. The warmth of his body, the sweetness of his breath, the softness of skin and hair, filled Orochimaru with a peace he knew nowhere else.

Eyes fluttered open.

"Lord Orochimaru?"

He sounded so distant, so far away, still in the realm of sleep.

"I'm here, Kabuto. Rest."

"I cannot rest when I know that you are uneasy. What is troubling you?"

"Do you love me, Kabuto?"

"Now and forever, Lord Orochimaru."

Yes, Kabuto must discover the answer. For them both. Love like this could only be found once in a lifetime.