Kabuto awoke at four-thirty am to the sound of vomiting. He groaned and fumbled for his glasses. Orochimaru sometimes had trouble adjusting to his new bodies, and Kabuto, as his right-hand man and personal physician, was expected to care for him during those times. He didn't mind too much; it was better than some of the other things Orochimaru asked of him. Still, he wished his master had better timing, or at least the decency to make it to the bathroom before hurling everywhere. If there was one thing Kabuto hated above all others, it was steam-cleaning the carpet.
He pulled his robe around himself and padded out to the small common area of his quarters, where the sounds were coming from. Before he entered the room, he paused with his hand on the doorknob and sighed. It was times like this that made him wish he'd been a good little ninja and stayed with the Leaf. "I'll pay your college tuition," indeed. He opened the door, blinked blearily at what he saw, then closed and opened it again. The image didn't change, though: the naked adolescent continued to puke, and beside him, out like a light, was Kimimaro.
Kabuto pushed his glasses up on his forehead and rubbed his eyes. It was going to be a long night.
He sidestepped the vomiting youth, leaned down next to Kimimaro and slapped him in the face. When Kimimaro didn't stir, he did it again, and again, until his former patient woke with a groan. Slowly, the young man's eyes fluttered open and focused on Kabuto.
"Kabuto?" he slurred. "Where'm I?"
"You're back in Hidden Sound Village," Kabuto said, fighting the urge to shine a light directly in Kimimaro's eyes. That would teach him to wake Kabuto up at four-thirty in the morning.
"How'd I get here?"
"I was hoping you could tell me that," Kabuto replied cheerfully. "I was also hoping you could tell me who this guy is." He indicated the boy next to Kimimaro, who was panting heavily during a pause in his retching. Kimimaro blinked slowly, then shot to a sitting position.
"Kabuto," he squeaked, intoxication seemingly forgotten, "why am I naked?"
"Again," Kabuto said, shrugging his shoulders, "you're the only that knows that."
Kimimaro raised a hand to his forehead. "We... we were fighting."
"That's good."
"He had some sake with him." He took a deep breath. "And he drank some of it, and..."
Kimimaro stared at his hand, which was shaking. Kabuto sighed. This job sucked. "And then what happened?"
"And... and I had some too." Kimimaro's eyes grew wider and wider as he hurtled towards the end of his story. "And we kept fighting and drinking and drinking and fighting, and then we must've..." He stared at the boy in horror. "I wanted Orochimaru-sama to be my first!" he wailed.
"There there," Kabuto said, patting Kimimaro on the shoulder, "it's not all it's cracked up to be, I can assure you. But Kimimaro, who is he? What village is he from?"
"Leaf," Kimimaro said decisively. "And I don't remember his name, but I think he said something about 'The Explosion of Youth.'"
"Well, 'The Explosion of Youth' is currently throwing up on my carpet." Kabuto stood and headed back to his room. Behind him, the aforementioned Explosion retched again. Explosively. "Get dressed, Kimimaro. I'll help you put that thing back where it came from before Orochimaru-sama finds out. You have to clean the carpet, though."
"Oh, thank you, Kabuto!" Kimimaro cried, leaping to his feet. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you weren't evil at all!"
"That's what everyone says." Kabuto glanced over his shoulder. "Put some clothes on. And take some asprin, I think you're still drunk."
"What about him?" Kimimaro asked just as Kabuto was about to shut the door.
"Wrap a towel around him and knock him out. He's probably got a killer headache. It'd be a mercy."
Kabuto shut the door and leaned against it, taking slow, deep breaths. Then he threw on some clothes and got to work. He’d be sure to use the extra-thick needles next time Kimimaro was under his care.
