Duckling
Tsunade is used to sleeping in unfamiliar places- she’s been bouncing around for so long there’s nowhere really familiar anymore.
Even so, she’s not sure she’s ever slept someplace so completely, unfathomably dark.
Shizune’s wandered off somewhere, tending to some business she’d sent her on and already forgotten about. Probably fast asleep by now. Like she should be. It’s odd to not be sharing a room like they’ve done in god knows how many shitty hotels, but that girl has earned some time to herself.
She’d picked a random room to sleep in, far, far away from anyone else so that she can try to get her head on straight.
But even with the sedatives, sleep eludes her.
Funny. When they were growing up, Orochimaru was always the one who had a hard time sleeping. She wonders if maybe he still does.
She’s far too embarrassed to be near him to check.
(how the fuck does her head still hurt so badly after those painkillers?)
She gives up on being able to sleep, pulling herself out of bed and deciding wandering a bit might steady her nerves.
Wandering in the dark seems like a bad way to calm her anxiety, but laying her certainly isn’t doing her any good.
Her footsteps echo back far too loudly off the stone walls as she starts to wander.
It’s terribly lonely, a seemingly endless labyrinth that surely must’ve taken ages to construct. Orochimaru had to have planned this well before his exit so that he would have a place to go when everything went bad in Konoha.
Konoha.
She hasn’t set foot in that place in ages, either. The very name rolls around in her mind like a ball covered in spikes, making her pissed off even though she doesn’t have a reason to be so angry right now.
Her angry solitude doesn’t last long, however. The telltale sounds of sobbing and hiccuping breaths get her attention, and she finds herself following in the direction of the sound without realizing it.
The sound of children crying has always made her skin crawl, but now it’s especially grating on her nerves. Echoing off the stone walls in the palpable darkness, it pierces right down to her soul.
“Who’s there?” she calls out, groping in the darkness to make her way in the direction of the noise.
She turns a corner, and the faint light of a candle casts a sphere of yellow light.
It’s that odd little white-haired boy who likes hanging off Orochimaru. Curled up into a tight little ball like the world’s most miserable hamster, bright green eyes staring at the flickering candle as he cries.
(So skinny. Too skinny. And didn’t Orochimaru say he was like ten? He really shouldn’t be this small.)
How fucking depressing.
“Hey kid, what’re you doing awake?” she asks.
His head snaps upward, and he hurries to wipe away tears to don a distrustful scowl.
He doesn’t say anything. Maybe because he’s worried his voice will crack if he does.
Tsunade approaches him warily, like one would approach a feral cat or something.
“Hey I don’t bite, what’s your deal?”
The boy sniffs, wanting to look tough but not accomplishing it in the least.
He stands up, drawing himself to his full meager height, holding the candle between the two of them like a shield.
“W-why do you care?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and backing away from her a few steps.
“Believe it or not kid, I’m not here to hurt anyone. You can calm down, okay?”
Poor thing. Obviously something’s very wrong, but he’s clamming up and not wanting to say anything.
“How about you tell me what you’re crying about?” she asks.
“None of your business.”
Maybe it’s immature to snap at a child, but Tsunade can’t help herself. He’s being so prickly and he barely even knows her!
“Oh come on what’s your problem with me anyway? I never did anything to you!”
The boy bows his head and looks away, like he’s suddenly afraid. He fidgets.
“...I just-”
He peers up at her through a curtain of fine white hair, the goldish glow of the candle making him look rather like a sad little ghost.
“...Orochimaru-sama likes you a lot, right? Like he likes the other guy."
What.
“What do you mean?”
“Orochimaru-sama likes you, or you wouldn’t be here, right? What if he likes you more than…”
Tsunade shakes her head.
This time, when she approaches him, he doesn’t shrink away from her.
“Kid, I’m not here to take your place or anything if that’s what you’re worrying about. You can calm down and stop crying.”
He blinks at her, brow scrunching up in confusion.
“That’s not why I’m…”
Tsunade puts her hands on her hips, letting out a huff.
Moving so she’s beside him, she crouches down so maybe she’s a bit less scary.
(She’s been told she can be a bit intimidating, although she’s not sure why that would be.)
“What’s your deal, kid? Where’d you come from, anyway? Where’s your family?”
Kimimaro frowns.
“I don’t have one?” he says, like the very idea is silly.
That would certainly explain some things.
“Your name’s uh-” Tsunade fumbles, realizing that she’s forgotten. “Kimi-something, right?”
“Kimimaro. Kaguya kimimaro, I think.”
The boy tucks his knees under his chin and huffs, staring at his little candle instead of at her.
Kaguya. That surname sounds familiar somehow…
Right.
Realization hits her like a blow upside the head.
She’d heard, of course. Even floating around in a drunken haze, Kirigakure’s obliteration of the entire Kaguya clan wasn’t missed. She’d probably have to be in a coma to miss that.
Well. Obliterated except for this one, she supposes.
It must be lonely.
“I didn’t know what I was gonna do. I was all alone. But then he-”
The flickering candle flame dances in his green eyes, which stare blankly into the distance while seeing nothing at all.
“...all of a sudden I wasn’t alone anymore. I don’t wanna be alone again. It’s the worst feeling in the world-”
Calling the situation ‘awkward’ would be the understatement to end all understatements.
Tsunade gingerly puts a hand on his shoulder, figuring it might be a comforting gesture.
“You don’t have to worry about that. You’re not gonna get left alone just ‘cause new people showed up. So calm down a bit, okay?”
The words don’t provide the boy with a lot of comfort, but his shoulders release a bit of tension.
It feels weird. But what else do you say in a situation like this?
(Tsunade has never really liked kids. Even when she was a kid. So she’s about as lost as it’s possible to be.)
She wants to get back up and walk away to continue her wandering, but some invisible force keeps her rooted in place. She feels acutely small, like she’s suddenly young again as well.
The boy sighs. Wipes away a few stray tears. Then, he falls sideways, resting his weight against her without warning.
Ordinarily she’d swat him away and tell him she’s not a pillow. But he shuts his eyes and snuggles up to her like an attention-starved cat and it makes her heart melt.
It’s a creepily familiar feeling. It stirs up the nostalgia of being young again, huddling up against the cold with her best friends in the world. Jiraiya telling them increasingly outlandish stories to keep them awake, Orochimaru tracing pictures in the stars, turning the heavens into a tapestry…
It makes her heart ache.
She misses that. When things felt simpler.
His sudden change in feelings toward her is strange, but nice all the same.
“...You’re a doctor right?”
“What? Yeah, why?”
“I hurt.”
“Ah. Where? Did you get injured?”
Kimimaro grabs the front of his pajama shirt.
“Right here. All the time. I just want it to go away.”
Well fuck. She almost wishes it were a physical injury, so she knew what to do.
“...I’m afraid there’s no cure for that kinda hurt, kid.”
“So what do I do?”
Tsunade grabs a fistful of her hair and huffs.
“Ugh. That’s a pretty heavy question, kid. There’s no good answer. You just gotta live with it however you can.”
The poor child doesn’t like that answer, and she can see that in his face. But he folds his arms, and doesn’t say anything more.
They sit like that until the candle burns out, leaving them in the dark once again.
It’s at that point Tsunade realizes that Kimimaro’s fallen asleep curled up against her, sucking his thumb and dozing like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
(Nawaki used to suck his thumb too. She and Jiraiya had made fun of him for it relentlessly back in the day- lightheartedly, of course.)
Shit. What does she do now?
She doesn’t want to spend the night in this chilly hallway, so carefully, gingerly, she gathers the child up in her arms and gets to her feet, figuring one of these bedrooms must be his.
Kimimaro doesn’t seem to mind this, mumbling a little in his sleep but not stirring.
He’s so light. That isn’t normal.
There’s so many empty areas, full of empty beds and empty wardrobes. Is Orochimaru planning on adding to his menagerie until they’re full?
She passes one and spots the redheaded girl fast asleep, on top of a heap composed of those twin boys she’d only seen once or twice, the big guy, and that kid with the four arms. It’s almost like a litter of kittens, all piled on top of each other to keep warm despite there being four beds lined up that she can count from the open door.
After trying and failing to find which of these rooms belongs to the boy, she finds herself having looped around to Orochimaru’s room.
The light’s still on. If anyone knows, he’s gotta know, right?
She knocks twice, then opens the door without waiting for a response.
He is indeed still awake, looking supremely comfortable in his bed reading. Naruto is curled up in a tight little ball by his side, snoring away contentedly.
Orochimaru peers up at her, raising an eyebrow at the sight.
“Do you need something?” he asks, motioning for her to keep her voice low.
“Yeah where do I put this kid? He fell asleep on me in the damn hallway and I’m not putting him to bed with me.”
Orochimaru shakes his head in bewilderment.
“I’ve been trying to get him to sleep in a proper bed for ages, but he always seems to wind up sleeping in the oddest places. I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.”
He sets his book aside and holds his arms out, gesturing for her to hand the boy over.
Tsunade obliges, and Orochimaru makes room for him on the other side of him, to tuck him in.
“I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble.”
“Eh, kids are usually trouble. It doesn’t bug me.”
The moment Kimimaro is in bed, he rolls over to cling to Orochimaru and let out a little
contended whine.
“He sure seems fond of you.”
“He’s my little duckling. It’s hard to get him to leave me alone.”
There’s a soft sort of fondness in his voice. She hasn’t heard that tone out of him for far too long.
“What about the other one?” she asks, jerking her head in Naruto’s direction.
“Oh, he seems to have taken a shine to me. Heaven knows why.”
As if on cue, Naruto murmurs in his sleep, curling up tighter against him and drooling on his arm. Orochimaru doesn’t seem to mind that, though.
“Itachi-kun needed space to sleep and he couldn’t do that while being pestered, so he wandered in here. It isn’t hurting anyone so I don’t mind.”
He pets the boy’s messy blond hair, subtly shifting his head so he’s drooling on the pillow instead of his arm.
There’s an awkward lull of silence between them.
“...so you’re having a rough night too?” she asks, noting the time on the clock and how deep Orochimaru is in his book.
“I don’t sleep well anymore,” he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It doesn’t matter. What about you? It’s quite late and you need to rest.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m usually out til later than this anyway. Don’t worry about it.”
She turns to leave, but some invisible force keeps her rooted in place.
“Why don’t you stay awhile? I do enjoy adult company every now and then.”
Tsunade rolls her eyes, but ends up obliging the request and sitting on the end of the bed.
“I don’t get you.”
“Do you have to get me?”
With an annoyed grumble, Tsunade flops down onto the bed, her head suddenly feeling very heavy.
“So what made you decide to start collecting kids?” she asks, wondering why she’s scared of the answer.
“Oh, it was just a whim, really. I felt sorry for them and I could take them in, so why not?”
It’s certainly easy enough to feel sorry for them. These ratty, angry, lost little children who probably had no place else to go.
…Maybe it’s natural that he should want to take them in. Considering he’d been one of those children, once. But she has a nagging feeling that he’s not being honest. Not fully, anyway.
He doesn’t seem to want to talk any further about the topic, though. He’s gone back to reading, his face slipping back into an expression of mild interest in whatever he’s reading.
She doesn’t want to needle at him too much just yet. So she shuts her eyes while she’s laying there, figuring even if she can’t sleep, resting her eyes for a while would still be good for her.
The next thing she knows, it’s morning.