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Orochimaru's hideout was silent; All of his important officers were topside and other personnel had been dismissed for the day. All the lights and candles had been extinguished, even underground, except for a single flame in the labs. This only light shone on unfinished scrolls, medical diagrams, and a pair of hands, holding together the head that rested there. Kabuto gazed halfheartedly into the candle flame. He had been forced to plead illness in order to keep this light on. It was Sound country tradition to put out all lights when a person died, to make sure their spirit did not attach to the flame. The man gave an exhausted groan and let himself rest his head on the desk again. It wouldn't be this hard if she wasn't here. If Sakura had not returned to Sound Country, all his problems would be solved.
When he had first come here, Sakura was so young. The daughter of Sound Country's founder was only two when he arrived, and only six when her father cruelly sent her to Konoha alone. The girl had almost no contact with her father, who was always busy with one experiment or another, and he quickly stepped in to fill that role. He had become “Nii-san”, older brother, and remained so even after they were separated.
Two years after she was sent off, when he turned fourteen (he remembered finding a present to give to her once he got back, but he was never able to get it to her; they weren't supposed to know each other.), they finally met again under the names Sakura Haruno and Kabuto Yakushi. But he had always been Yakushi to her. She never knew that his name was that of the most prominent house of Konoha and she still didn't. That was part of what hurt so much. The other part was knowing that who she was, was nothing like who she was going to be.
She had arrived this afternoon and changed her dress the moment she did. He supposed she wanted to honor her late father with her traditional Sound clothes. She had also released her transformation justu, startling all the people around her with her father's face. He chuckled at the memory, pulling himself together to roll up a few scrolls. He had noticed all this from down the hall, for he couldn’t bear to talk to her any sooner than he had too. He also noticed the slight marks under her eyes; circles from lack of sleep and redness from crying, since she had traveled all night to reach Otogakure in time for the funeral. The funeral, he thought, shoving one scroll into its holder a little more strongly than necessary, for Orochimaru, her father.
Orochimaru, whether he liked it or not, had been a huge influence on his life. He was essentially the reason Kabuto was who he was now. Once he had been a Hyuuga, the heir to the main branch house, only eight years old and already a genius. Then he had met Orochimaru in Kikyo Pass and his life was erased, replaced by Kabuto Yakushi, who was average and mediocre in every way. The Third Hokage had been the one to ask him to become a double agent, but in the end, it was Kabuto who accepted, Kabuto who agreed to pretend to be a spy to send information back to the Third Hokage on its most dangerous missing nin.
The double agent pushed out of his seat and just stood before his desk, staring at it. This desk had been used to write secrets of the utmost importance to Sarutobi, things that saved Konoha from a horrible demise several times. However, it had also been home to pages and pages of medical notes on how people had died under his knife on an examining table. He wanted one to outweigh the other, to justify everything he’d done. But by weight, he was afraid the wrong side of the scale was touching the floor.
If it hadn't been for a lifetime of acting, the double agent was sure he would have broken down by now. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long, that grim hope that maybe this time the sannin would bite off more than he could swallow. Everything had been perfectly lined up. They had been approaching Orochimaru’s three year body switch limit, so Kabuto knew he would have to transfer soon. He was always weaker at the end. From watching the Uchiha for the last three years, he was fairly sure Sasuke wouldn’t go down smoothly when he left to prepare the medicine for the sannin.
Walking in on the severed monstrous snake was a nauseating relief. The smell of blood and toxin filled his nose before it turned numb, overwhelming and familiar. But he had to know for sure who was behind Sasuke’s black eyes as he walked out, who had won the final battle.
When Sasuke showed him killing Orochimaru in his own mind, he almost couldn’t believe it. Everything was finally over.
Sasuke had never shown any interest in taking over Sound Country and Sakura was locked away in Konoha, estranged after she betrayed her father and nearly prevented the Uchiha from defecting. Orochimaru had died. Kabuto would be free, his duty done. Without its leader, the country would have easily fallen before Konoha's might, especially with the knowledge Kabuto had of its inner workings. If not for one thing.....
For once, he gave into the instinct to throw something, sweeping pens and brushes off the desk to clatter to the floor, the only noise in the entire complex. Respect for the dead demanded silence. But giving in once made all the weight behind the dam focus on that one crack, even as his palms smacked against it to hold it up. Too much, all too much, years and years of hopes threatened by a single mistake, one thing-!
With a whimper, he dropped to a crouch, hands shoved under his glasses, heel of his palms pressed against his stinging eyes. Damn it, he had been so close! All those years of potentially losing his life to defend Konoha, of being entirely prepared to do so if discovered, all threatened to amount to nothing. Plopping on the floor as emotions he’d kept in check for so long seized his body, Kabuto tried to take just one breath that wasn’t a gasping sob.
Because he had miscalculated one variable in his equation. He didn’t expect that Sakura would return to Sound. And that she was now rightfully its ruler.
It took him perhaps half an hour, maybe more. Without a clock, the candle flame burning lower was the only clue he had to the time. He took a deep breath, bringing himself back under control again. Glasses back on, he picked the pens back up and sat back at his desk.
He was not going to give up. He had not come this far, come so close to returning, to be shot right back to the beginning like a rubber band. He was not going to lose his home again. Kabuto turned his chair to face the black emptiness of his lab, and stared into the abyss.
Sakura was not her father. Although she was similar in many ways physically, she did not have his mindset. Not yet, at least. She would be far less of a threat than Orochimaru had been, since her anger was more passive than his. And of course she was younger, with no idea of how to run an entire country. That alone made her less dangerous. He instinctively tilted his glasses to catch the candle’s glare to hide his worried eyes, even with no one around. He’d been recruited to spy on Orochimaru. Just him. Konoha knew almost everything about the young kunoichi and he could fill in what they didn’t know about her childhood. They wouldn’t need a spy to keep watching her.
But Sakura. He doesn’t want to leave her here. She is his…. She isn’t his real sister, Hinata, but looking back, he has more right to say he raised her than Orochimaru did. The snake sannin never kept an eye on her when she was younger, cast genjutsu on her bullies that seemed like nightmares to haunt them, or checked on her grades with pride. He used to call her onee-chan, sister, until they weren’t supposed to know each other
Otogakure would not be good for her. The basements full of bodies and experimental subjects, the administration full of former cronies power-hungry enough to follow her father, the crushing responsibility of leading a country that has only known an absent despot. He can’t let her take this path, for her own sake. But they haven’t spoken in years, not candidly and never alone. The last time they saw each other was at Tenchi Bridge, in front of Orochimaru and her team. If she came all this way for a father who never loved her, was she still the girl he thought she was?
Once he had made up his mind and damned all other options, Kabuto wrote up a brief report, formed a clone and substituted it with a branch planted back in Konoha, cleverly coated in painted tags. The substitution jutsu was really very versatile once you had grasped the basics and he had several substitution caches set up for this purpose. It took a while to find the right ANBU whose code words he knew, to disable and borrow their mask. News of Orochimaru’s death taken from a defecting Sound ninja proved bait enough to get him into the office, and the scroll kept his voice hidden until Tsunade was hooked enough to ask about the defector.
She scoffed at the name Kabuto Hyuuga, fell silent when he added he formerly went by Yakushi, and rose to her feet in rage when he took off the mask and knelt. He knew what she could see. His clone didn’t have enough chakra to keep up the transformation jutsu he normally held, and his Hyuuga-white eyes would be visible. Only Shizune was able to hold her back long enough for him to finish explaining that he was not here in person, and that he came to request an end to his decade-long spying career. After a hushed and furious conversation with her attendant, the Sixth Hokage agreed to listen to his story.
He told her everything.
To her credit, she kept her disbelief muted as he offered all the details he had about his double agent status. Military movements he’d advised in the past intended to deter an attack from Sound. Information caches he’d worked out with Sarutobi that had always gone uncredited. The deal Sarutobi and the Hyuuga elder had struck to have him wiped from the family roster but remain unbound by the family’s sealing jutsu. Her expression only hardened when he insisted that the only way for her to verify his family claim would be to speak with the elder himself and ask for the original family lineage documents, but she did tell Shizune to send a messenger to the household requesting a meeting.
And inevitably she was stunned to learn of Sakura's true identity. It wasn’t an easy decision to tell her secret, but Tsunade deserved to know who now led their enemy, as his kage. And before she faced her protege on the battlefield. He had to hold the clone for almost an hour as she frantically checked his facts and sent an ANBU messenger to her house to confirm that she had, in fact, been adopted and that she was not, as she said, visiting a deceased member of the Haruno family. She threatened him with death if what he said was not true. His clone simply shrugged and smiled.
He also told her of what he planned to do tomorrow. She nodded gravely and told him it was foolish, but that she couldn't stop him. She also said that if he was to return, that he would be detained and questioned, but that he would not be killed on sight. It wasn’t very reassuring, but there was little more he could ask for. After all, Tsunade was his only support.
After a grueling few hours of interrogation and persuasion, his clone released and he slumped wearily into his chair. Thankfully the transformation jutsu is only a few handsigns, even if he didn’t have the chakra to hold it and a clone at the same time. The candle sat just above a puddle of wax, only an hour's worth of light remaining, meaning it had to be past midnight. He should sleep. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to.
With a groan, he dragged himself towards the bed, a hibernating creature buried in blankets against the cold of the stone warren. That it would be his last time in the cold dark room was emphasized by his open satchel, lying at the foot of it, and Kabuto froze. He’d begun packing it yesterday, cheerily stuffing it with the few things he still wanted and carefully destroying the rest. That forbidden knowledge could live in his head rather than on paper where anyone else could use it. Yesterday, this was the simplest step in the process of returning: sabotage Orochimaru’s medical experiment records and leave the country in disarray for the last time. Now it was all a complicated knot again.
He collapsed on his bed, rolling over to stare blankly at the ceiling. The weight of his decision hung over him, a crushing feeling similar to the one he got when he first faced Manda; a terrible black mass with fangs and golden eyes, just waiting until the perfect moment to devour him. He finally took off his glasses, placing them on the floor beside his bed and extinguished the candle with a simple hand sign, leaving him in the oppressive darkness.
Kabuto did not sleep well that night.
“Kabuto-san?”
The knock on the door startled him awake, flinging his blankets off as he grasped for his glasses. He knew the voice, but not well; one of the couriers? He’s heard her speak once or twice before, when she brought his food to his door.
“Yes, what?” He stammered quickly, taking in his room and the sounds from the hall. Everything was still in order, the halls were quiet. That meant he’d slept late, everyone must already be awake and preparing.
“I have your breakfast here. Sakura-sama wants to speak with you as well, as soon as you are ready.” Kabuto heaved a rough sigh, dragging himself to his feet.
“Please tell her I’ll be there shortly.” He regretted the words even as they left his mouth, but he heard the messenger walk away before he could take it back. Once alone again, he picked up the tray and ate what was brought. Even if he wasn’t hungry, he needed all the energy he could afford. Only a long cloak remained in the closet where reams of lab coats once were, all the rest either had to be burned or were already destroyed in preparation for his departure. He shouldered on the pack and donned the cloak, pulling its hood over his head. He had to steel himself. If he did not, Sakura would see right through him and she was one of the only ones who could. Everything had to go just as he planned it, or else it would all fall apart like ill-stitched skin.
He walked out of his lab and sealed the door behind him, smiling grimly. The seal he used today was not the one he usually used and it set off the self-destruct mechanisms placed on all the important pieces of his lab. He was not coming back, after all. He smiled to himself as he set off down the familiar halls, just as Kabuto no Oto would do. He was preparing the funeral of Kabuto no Oto anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to play the part one last time.
Her throne room is guarded when he gets there, a first. Orochimaru never felt the need, with his superiority complex. They stood firm in front of the gaping black doorway, spears crossed over a stream of cold air emanating from the portal; Orochimaru had arranged it that way to intimidate visitors, piping air up the cliffs from the basement levels. He handed them his pass, which they validated with a dispelling jutsu, then uncrossed their spears to allow him entrance. He could see Sakura beyond it, sitting on her father's old stone chair, looking expectantly at him, and he was never so gratefully for a hood in his life. He knew that once he crossed the threshold, everything would come tumbling down. He either took the step and returned to Konoha, or died in the effort. It was now or never; do or die.
He walked through the stone arch with supreme confidence. He would be the first to throw the dirt on the coffin of this funeral.