Moon Devourer

Aren't Going To Save Anyone

Before

He expected this. He honestly expected this. What else did he really expect?

He shuffles into a corner, beyond the edge where his broken hydrangea pot lies on, the petals spilling all over the floor as he munches on the leaves in pure stress. The bitter tang of foxglove steeps on his tongue.

There's a senbon in his mouth. There's a senbon dipping into the viscous amount of hydrangea-foxglove solution he didn't test out yet.

Kabuto-san isn't part of the... faceless, blank-masked shinobi out there, it seems. There's a terrible feeling that lends itself into the feeling that there is something out there.

Hence the blankets curling up into a nest as he tries to pull himself to be in the shadows. As quiet, as unknowable, as- as invisible as the shadows. Never underneath the moonlight.

(The Moon is dangerous)

He brings the senbon up in-between his fingers, allowing for him to aim and flick it out in the most accurate way he knew- and waits.

"Boy, you have to come out of your room, you know?" Matron-san seethed behind his door, though he could not know if Matron-san was indeed, Matron-san.

There was a thing called henge he just remembered, and the shame that rolled through him at that moment was immense enough for him to dip into another set of paranoia- because that was the first time he ever even saw the word 'henge' in the first place.

Henge could change quite a bit of a person, from size to shape to voice- a minor Genjutsu that was the basics of everything else that was Genjutsu, though it was also a tad bit of Ninjutsu, if you considered the almost-physical element some Uzumaki had.

What even were the Uzumaki- he didn't even get an education on whatever clans yet! Where was this information coming from, why did he have access to this, and what was he supposed to do with this?

Anko- for all of her poison loving tendencies would have- would have... Who is Anko?

He freezes as a shadow flits by his room's window. He can't tell if its just a bug or some random shinobi that is underneath the orders of Danzo at this point- its hard, he can't keep up with his eyes.

"That's it, boy!" The Matron-san sighs, "fine, stay in there, stop helping me like the good boy you were, and you're going to Danzo-sama's sponsored orphanage, see how good your life there is, since you obviously can't stand it here with poor old me anymore, hm?"

Wait. Danzo wanted him to enter his orphanage. This was not good- not good, not good not good notgoodnotgoodnotgoodnotgood-

"Matron-san," he breathes more than speaks, "when am I moving there?"

"So you wanted to go, you little brat!" Matron-san groaned, then banged her fist on the door, "fine! Fine. Next Monday."

Today was Friday. He had three days. Three days to find a person that he could trust- to escape and to run- Shit.

Who? He had no one. Escape? This was Konohagakure. Run? He couldn't even outrun a genin if he tried. 

Who would help him, hm?

No one. He presses his forehead into the door of his own, wood creaking slightly at the added weight.

No one-

(The wolf.)

He freezes. Then listens to the sound of the leaving footsteps, and dares to take a few strides forwards. Right. These strange... weirdly helpful memos.