Fairy Tale - Yakushi Kabuto

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          "Then the prince and princess lived happily ever after.  The end," you read to the group of children gathered around you.  "Well, everyone, what do you think?"  Some little girls' eyes sparkled with wonder, while other little boys' eyes narrowed in distaste.

          "I like the part where the princess stops the prince from killing the dragon!" piped Kobato, your favorite girl.  You didn't like to pick favorites from the group, but Kobato's cute precociousness always made your day.

          "No way, the prince should have finished the dragon off!" Makito, the troublemaker of the group, declared.  Most of the boys in the class shouted in agreement.  You let the children debate over the story and made your way over to Fujiyama-san, an older lady who took care of the children and let her know that you would be leaving the orphanage for the day.  Before you turned to walk away, she stopped you.

          "It seems that your visitor has come around again.  Why not stay for a little while longer?  I'll pay you for the extra time," she said.  She pointed to the doorway, where a young man with glasses and gray hair was smiling at you.  This man -- Kabuto, as he introduced himself -- had been visiting the orphanage for a few months about every other week or so.  You knew he worked for the infamous Orochimaru, but he had done no harm to anyone in your village.  Each time he came, he brought candy for the children.  It was sweet.  He seemed to have a certain way with the children that even you didn't.

          "All right, boys, why do you think the prince should have finished off the dragon?"  You looked directly at Makito, expecting a good explanation.  Though he didn't act it, he was actually very bright.

          Makito, however, was not the one to speak up.  Another younger boy blurted out, "Dragons are bad!"  You smiled gently at the boy and gave him a pat on the head for answering.  A few boys gave cries of agreement.

          "All right, then, why do some of you think that it was good for the princess to stop the prince from killing the dragon?"  You looked to Kobato, who was brimming with eagerness to have her say.

          "Killing is wrong," Kobato stated.  "The dragon did kidnap the princess, but he didn't hurt her or anything."  Makito jumped in to argue with her, and you didn't stop him.  After a few minutes of discussion, you had an idea for a final question.

          "All right, everyone.  We each have our own opinions over whether or not the prince should have killed the dragon.  What I'd like to know is why you think the dragon kidnapped the princess."  The room went silent for a moment before a flurry of replies floated into your ears.  Some suggested that the dragon wanted a ransom.  Others thought that the dragon might have fallen in love with the princess, or that he was just lonely.  This continued until a little girl's stomach rumbled, signaling the time for dinner and the time for you to head home.

          You walked out of the orphanage, and Kabuto was waiting for you.  He held out his hand, and you reached to take it.  Before you made contact, a cloud of smoke burst from his hand, and a piece of candy lay there.  You gladly took it and popped it into your mouth.

          "What do you think?" he asked as the two of you walked down the dusty streets of the village.

          "About what?" you asked, tucking the candy into your cheek.

          "Do you think the prince should have finished off the dragon?"

          You giggled.  He was always so perceptive.  In telling your stories, you would always hope to teach the children something to guide them on their way to becoming whatever they needed to become.  "I don't, actually."

          "Why don't you?"

          "Men hunt and kill animals all of the time, but killing an intelligent, feeling, thinking, speaking creature would change the prince into someone less heroic and pure.  He had already defeated the dragon, and even if it wanted an honorable death, the prince's own honor would have been killed along with it."

          "And if the dragon were truly evil?"  His eyes stared intently into yours, as if he were seeking an answer to a very personal question.

          "You're being awfully interested today, Kabuto-san.  Usually, you start up a generic conversation about nothing and leave me confused about your feel-"  You stopped yourself short and began to blush.  "Not like that," you quickly said.  Kabuto chuckled his smooth, effortless chuckle and gestured for you to continue.  "In any case, evil or not, I believe everyone should be given the chance to see kindness and eventually give it to someone else."

          "Everyone?"  His voice sounded cynical, as if he'd been hurt one too many times, but his dark eyes seemed to be searching for something.  It occurred to you that working for Orochimaru had exposed him to things he wished he hadn't seen and made him do things he wished he hadn't done.  You felt a pang of sympathy for him.  "People who can never go back?  People who will never see the light and never want to?"

          "Everyone, Kabuto-san.  Everyone."  Your eyes burned with conviction.  His facial expression hardened.  Any emotion he had poured into his words before faded behind the charming smile he always wore.  "We're not talking about the dragon anymore, are we?"

          He shook his head.  "I'm sorry."

          The two of you had arrived at your house, and you stared at the unwelcoming door, wanting to stay and talk with Kabuto for a little while longer.

          "Kabuto-san," you called, sensing that he had already turned to leave.  He turned back toward you, and you ran up to him.  You opened up your mouth, but no words came out.  You wanted to tell him that he didn't need to feel lonely, that you accepted him for who he was, that you were concerned about him, but you couldn't.  Instead, you just took his hand, hoping he would understand the gesture.

          His eyes softened, and he leaned down toward you.  "Thank you." 

          The overwhelming pain of his past revealed itself through his trembling hands.  Before he could turn away, you tugged him closer.  He responded by closing the distance between the two of you, and he took your lips into his.  His free hand caressed your cheek, and you melted into the sensation.  You broke apart and came together again and again, each time more passionate than the last, just like each time he visited.  You wanted him to stay, and the moment you gathered the strength to say so, he was gone. 

          He left, and you could only hope that he would return someday.

~*~

Credit to lopololo on DeviantArt for picture.


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