---
March 1st
39 Days after Initial Infection
25 Days Remaining
---
Tsunade made her rounds through the hospital, checking on all her patients. Sometimes she said a few encouraging words to them, sometimes she just checked the monitors, told them how they were doing, and left. The one patient her feet always seemed to want to take her to, however, was the one she looked forward to checking on the least. Hyuuga Neji was not taking his confinement well. And confinement it was; they’d done everything but tie him to the bed to keep him from fidgeting and adding injury to his sickness.
His sickness…Tsunade leaned against the wall outside Neji’s door, thinking back. She’d diagnosed it as a nasty flu, but now that she’d been able to watch him a few days she knew for sure that she was dealing with something much more powerful—and much more deadly. Since Neji had been admitted, she’d taken to searching for cases of similar symptoms, autopsy reports that mentioned fluid-filled lungs that bled, and a stomach lining eaten away, and evidence of a high fever. It was deceptive in that most cases were initially diagnosed as the flu—or AIDS, she noted, which supported Dr. Glen’s blood transmission theory.
But in analyzing the sample she’d gotten from the little girl, she hadn’t found anything that looked like what she was looking for. A distressing lack of white blood cells and antibodies, which meant that somehow the immune system was suppressed—but how, she couldn’t say. It had been so long since she’d worked with it…her days for the last twenty years had been filled with everyday, boring injuries. Broken bones, dislocated shoulders, sports injuries, gangfights…she didn’t know how to handle an epidemic.
And it was spreading.
Another case had cropped up in San Francisco; a 30-year-old man. And in Sacramento; a 73-year-old grandmother. Both were coughing and vomiting blood.
“Dr. Hisano!” Sakura came jogging up, arms full of gauze bandages. “Room 3 has a huge stab wound, looks like it came from a sword. I’ve cleaned it up already—do you want me to suture it as well?”
“Please,” Tsunade said.
Sakura didn’t move; she was staring at the door. “And Itachi’s here. He’s always right on time.”
“I’ll be right out once I finish with his invalid of a boyfriend.”
“Okay,” Sakura sang out, before trotting down to the room she’d been working in. “Okay, Mr. Norton, I’m going to…”
Sighing, Tsunade pushed the door open. “How is my star patient today?”
“Cut the crap,” Neji said irritably. He’d been in here three days, and was more than ready to get out and continue his classwork, and see Itachi again. Tsunade had flatly disallowed any visitors, even a horde of his classmates, but it was the separation from his lover that took the most out of him. They were allowed to talk on the phone a little at night—not nearly long enough. But it was good to hear Itachi’s voice and his reassurances that everything would be okay and that when Neji was released from the hospital he’d be right there to take him home. “When am I getting out of here? When will—“ he was interrupted by coughing. Tsunaded pulled out a gauze pad and pressed it to his mouth. It was blood-spattered when she pulled it away, and she showed him.
“When you stop coughing up blood, and when your vomit contains no blood, we’ll let you go.”
“You told me it was just the flu,” Neji said. Already he was wearing out, and Tsunade made a mental note. Just over the last few days, his energy level had decreased alarmingly even though they were dripping electrolytes into his bloodstream. He took the normal array of pills and syrups for the flu, in addition with a few Tsunade thought he’d need. Still, he ate no more than was absolutely necessary, and always seemed to throw it back up anyway. That in itself was worrisome. Gently she laid him back on the pillows, feeling how thin he’d gotten. Neji’s silver eyes bored into her.
“Please be honest with me,” he said quietly. “I just…want to know. If you don’t want me to, I won’t tell Itachi or my family. But I must know what is wrong with me.”
Tsunade sighed, taking down his heart rate and temperature, making sure everything was normal. “I don’t know what you have, to be honest,” she said wearily. “It looks like things, but it acts in a way that’s different than anything I’ve ever seen before. I’m cooperating with other doctors who are seeing this same thing in their patients. We’ll come up with a cure. In the meantime, Neji, keep your spirits up. I know it placates your Uchiha shadow.”
“Itachi?”
“He comes by to ask how you’re doing, and pester me about letting him see you.” Tsunade wrapped the cuff around his upper arm, pumping the little bulb so she could take his blood pressure. “He’s very devoted.”
Neji blushed, and she thought about how nice it was to see some color on a person who was all stark grey eyes and pale skin. “I was fortunate.”
“He says the same about you. How’d you two meet, anyway?”
“Kind of a story.”
She hushed him so she could take his blood pressure, and when the reading popped up she wrote it down.
“I’ve got time.”
He laughed a little, weakly. “It was the middle of Feburary, raining cats and dogs. I was a little freshman, he was a junior, and we were both trying to get a seat inside the food court so we didn’t have to run for cover outside. There was one table left, for two people. We took it as a sign. We’ve been dating ever since.”
“And living with each other?”
“I moved in about eight months ago.”
Tsunade mentally checked airborne diseases off her list. If they’d been together that long, Itachi would be getting sick by now. “What do you think of his family?”
Neji scowled. “They remind me too much of my own family.”
The Hyuugas were a wealthy East-Coast, Old Money family who traced their ancestors back to Norwegian and French royalty. Neji’s father had died in Vietnam; his uncle, Neji’s father’s twin, had taken the talented boy into his own family. But the Hyuugas made a big to-do about family being involved in their shipping and trading business, and even though he was the Business major and Hinata was going into education, it didn’t seem likely that Neji would be able to take over the business when Hiashi stepped down. They wouldn’t have liked that their talented Hyuuga son was gay, either. Neji must have had it rough. Not as rough as the Uchiha family with their two sons, both gay. But she’d known Itachi and Sasuke long enough to know that neither had a mind for sitting behind a desk all day pushing papers and bitching like their father; they wanted to be doing something. The Uchiha brothers were an energetic, kinetic pair.
Tsunade finished taking Neji’s vitals—elevated, as they had been for all three days. She checked off on the dosages he was getting and hung his chart back on the peg at the foot of his bed.
“I’m doing all I can to get you healthy again,” she said. “I see how it affects both of you.”
Neji’s small smile was enough to twist her heart. “Thank you, Dr. Hisano.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, closing the blinds so he could sleep comfortably before slipping out the door and shutting it behind her.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
“There’s no improvement?”
“None at all, Itachi. It’s a very tenacious sickness; I’m doing all I can, but without knowing how it works I can’t stop it.”
“Why can’t you find out how it works?”
“I am trying, Itachi. But we must be patient. Neji’s fighting it.”
Itachi sighed, slumping back in the chair a bit. Tsunade saw how tired he looked, as if he were fighting the disease along with Neji. In a way, she thought, he was. “Very well. I’ll trust your judgment.”
“Until you get your own medical degree,” she said acidly, “That’s all you can do.”
Itachi stood. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Hisano.”
He left. Tsunade sat back in her chair, lost in thought.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Digging his car keys out of his jacket pocket, Itachi scowled. He’d come to the hospital every day since Neji had been admitted, asking for his condition. To Itachi’s mind, Neji should have improved drastically when put in the hospital, but instead it almost seemed like he was getting worse. Oh, Dr. Hisano hadn’t come out and said it—she was a master at the doctoral doublespeak—but he’d been able to tell from her body language.
“Hey.”
Itachi looked over and saw the doctor’s pink-haired intern peeking at him around a pillar. Oh great, another fangirl. “I’m gay, and—“
“Neji’s your boyfriend.”
“…you know.”
“Of course I do. I also know that Dr. Hisano always works in her office for an hour after talking to him. And then she goes to the lab, and doesn’t look in on him until after visiting hours.”
“I’m not family,” Itachi said. “And the risk of infection—“
“Is nothing. It’s not airborne. And I can take you to see him.”
Itachi stared at her. Gutsy, intense green eyes stared right back. “You’d break regulations?”
“I like seeing a good love story.” She tossed her hair. “He wants to see you. Whenever I go in and we talk, he always talks about you.”
Itachi felt a twinge of pride that he’d gotten his hands on the attractive man before anyone else. “Then stop talking and show me.”
The girl grabbed his hand and dragged him around the corner from the entrance to the ICU ward and through a different door, which she opened with a key-card. It was a long, dim hallway lined with offices and supply closets. Peeking out, she nodded. “Neji’s room is that one, at the end of the big hallway.” She pointed. “I’m Haruno Sakura, by the way.”
“Uchiha Itachi.”
“I know.”
“…right.”
Sakura darted out into the hallway, Itachi following her lead. They’d timed it just so, and Sakura was able to slip him into the room. Leaving it open a crack, she whispered through to him. “I’ll knock three times on the door when it’s time to leave, two if there’s someone coming that you need to hide from. There’s a closet of drapes in there you can get into.”
“Thank you,” Itachi said sincerely. She shut the door and Itachi turned to his lover, asleep on the bed. For a long time, he could only watch the breathing (he could hear its harshness even more now) and follow the up-and-down movement of Neji’s chest. Then he slowly reached up and took a hand in both of his, being careful of the IV lines that fed into the vein there.
At the touch, Neji stirred, eyes slitting open just a little, enough to look over and see Itachi there. Hurriedly the older man pressed his fingers to his lips.
“How did you get in here?” Neji asked. His hand gripped Itachi’s with all the strength he had, still weaker than anything before he’d fallen ill.
“Dr. Hisano’s intern snuck me in,” he said softly. “She knew I wanted to see you.”
Neji’s eyes, still glazed with fever, followed his every movement as Itachi fought the railing on the side down and sat on the edge of the bed. Twisting his body around, the Uchiha reached out and stroked his lover’s hair back from his forehead.
“You’re still feverish.”
“I feel like shit. Dr. Hisano’s barely telling me anything. Itachi, I feel like I’m dying.”
“Don’t say that,” Itachi snapped. “You will not die.”
Neji swallowed, looking away. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, either.”
“Then what do you want me to say?”
“Just tell me that you’ll fight this.”
Neji’s eyes flashed intense, cutting through the fever. “I’m not going to just give up, Itachi. But…it’s not…Dr. Hisano said she didn’t know what I have. She’s keeping me on the medication as if it was just the flu, but it’s not. She’s worried, and scared.”
Itachi bent over, kissing just under Neji’s ear and breathing in a little of his peculiar scent—something like candles and secrecy, a little sweat from the fever. Clinical smells obscured it. “She’s doing all she can, and she’s all we have. We will have to trust her for now.”
Neji’s hand moved up to play with the long tail of hair the flowed over his shoulder. Itachi could hear the tubes and wires that the Hyuuga was hooked up to tapping together, and turned his head so he could rest it on the pillow next to Neji’s head. “I miss you,” he said softly.
“I know,” Itachi said. His voice was muffled against Neji’s neck and came back too loud to his ears. “Get better, and you can come home.”
There was a long pause. “I’m trying,” Neji said quietly.
They talked for an hour; sometimes they just fell silent, trying to stay as close to each other as they could. At last, three taps on the door signaled that it was time for Itachi to leave. Reluctantly, Itachi pulled out of Neji’s arms and kissed him, rubbing his cheek.
“I’ll try to get Sakura to sneak me in again,” he said, pressing his forehead to Neji’s burning one.
“Don’t get in trouble,” Neji said, scowling. Itachi smiled just a little—if Neji wasn’t sick enough to stop scowling at things, he wouldn’t worry too much about it.
“I’m afraid it’s unavoidable,” the Uchiha said. Neji’s scowl intensified, and he leaned over one last time and pressed his lips to Neji’s forehead, a blessing. “Take care of yourself, Neji. I love you.”
“Hurry,” Sakura whispered from the door. Squeezing Neji’s hand one last time, Itachi left the room. Somehow, he felt worse after leaving than he had before.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Naruto looked around in his history class while they waited for the teacher’s aid to start the lecture. Neji was again conspicuously absent.
“Hey Sakura,” he said slowly. “Neji’s been gone a few days. It’s not like him to miss classes. He must be pretty sick.”
“Didn’t you hear?” Sakura said. She was playing Spider Solitare on her laptop. “Neji’s in the hospital.”
“No shit?” Kiba said, elbowing Naruto out of the way. Naruto and Hinata knocked heads when she whipped around to join the conversation.
“He is?” she asked, her stormcloud-grey eyes wide. “I didn’t know…”
“Yeah, he was admitted over the weekend. Flu, we think,” Sakura said carefully. She wasn’t supposed to talk about it, in case word of a mystery disease started spreading. In a closely-involved community like a college campus, an epidemic could be devastating.
“Neji’s strong,” Naruto said with his usual confident grin. “He’ll fight it off and be back by the end of the week, you’ll see!”
Sakura sighed, opening her note program and beginning to type as the lecture started. She only hoped Naruto was right.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Tsunade sat back from the microscope where she’d been examining Neji’s latest blood samples. It didn’t make any sense; how had a perfectly healthy man in his twenties become infected, incubated the virus, and fallen ill? Where were the microorganisms responsible? It was a virus, of that she was certain; but even if the capsid disintegrated after the virus RNA was incorporated into the genetic material of whatever cell it attacked, she should still be seeing pieces of the original virus everywhere.
She leaned forward on her elbows, running her hands through her hair. How could it infect and then just disappear?
Tsunade looked over at her computer. An unsent e-mail was displayed on the screen; her brain and common sense told her to reach over and click SEND, but her resentment and professional wariness stayed her hand.
Haruki Orochimaru had been disgraced in his work some years ago; reports that his experiments and methods were inhumane to the animals he’d been testing the early forms of gene therapy on, and that some of his data was faked, had kicked him from his high esteem in the human genome research community. He was still working on the Human Genome Project, under intense scrutiny, and was doing some work of his own. Some aging gene or other. He’d explained it to her once, but she had already lost her passion for the field and had only listened to him with half an ear. They hadn’t talked outside of the medical field in a few years; she knew that he’d caused a stir of some sort by first going out with a boy who could be his grandson, and again by filing for domestic partnership with said boy.
Sasuke wouldn’t be a boy, now, Tsunade thought absently. He’d be…what, twenty now? Just about. Still, that was young, for a man in his fifties. But Orochimaru had always looked young for his age, and even as he grew older that hadn’t changed. Although what Sasuke saw in him, Tsunade would never know. Obviously, Orochimaru cared for the boy; after Sasuke’s father had refused to pay for his schooling when he found out that the younger Uchiha was dating someone so old, Orochimaru had gallantly taken up the bill and given Sasuke a place to live.
She also recalled that they’d been in the emergency room a couple months ago. Car crash; he’d been in the car with a friend, not realizing said friend was completely hammered. One swerve and a tree later, and he’d been in Tsunade’s care, getting bandaged and sutured back together. He’d healed nicely. Orochimaru had been there, standing unusually unobtrusively off to the side, by his young lover’s head as he hissed in pain before the drugs had taken effect. Tsunade remembered noting the surprising gentleness with which he’d handled Sasuke after that, helping him into the passenger seat and buckling him in, and taking off work to go with him to the appointments after that.
She schooled her wandering thoughts and looked over her e-mail again.
//Orochimaru,
I know it’s been awhile since we really talked last, but I need your help on something. I’ve got a potentially dangerous disease here; viral, but I can’t find the origin in the patient’s blood. No pieces of the capsid, no protein tails, nothing. It’s as if the origin never existed.
I know you focus in genetics, but this is in your area of expertise as well. Let’s talk about it. Get back to me ASAP.
Thanks,
Tsunade//
Holding her breath, she moved the mouse over the SEND button and clicked it.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Orochimaru was typing his journal entry for the day’s work when the computer pinged, startling him. He hated this thing, preferring his pages of handwritten logs to it, but some things required a computer to keep organized and this was one of them.
“Kabuto,” he called. A minute later his assistant appeared. “What’s this chime mean?”
“You’ve got an e-mail, Mr. Haruki.” Taking the mouse, the young lab tech clicked on the mail service and it popped up. “It’s from Tsunade Hisano—isn’t that your old friend?”
“It is,” Orochimaru said, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t know why she’d send me mail on this infernal machine when she could just call, she knows I hate computers.”
Clicking to open it, Kabuto stepped back as Orochimaru scanned the short message. In that time, his face went from surprise, to suspicion, to incredulity. “She wants to talk to me regarding a case of hers. Some viral disease she wants me to help her identify.”
“Shouldn’t she just send it off to NIH and let them work on it?”
“She doesn’t want to arouse suspicion,” Orochimaru said slowly. His greeny-gold eyes scanned the e-mail again. “I think this is serious. Epidemic, Kabuto.”
He could hear Kabuto’s ears perk up. “And?”
Orochimaru was already dialing.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Tsunade’s cell phone rang. It was that biotechnology company up in Santa Clarita; she flicked open the phone. “Hisano Tsunade.”
Tsunade-hime. Pleasure to hear from you again.
“Orochimaru. So you got my e-mail.”
Next time just call. So tell me more about this mystery virus of yours.
Tsunade looked around at the techs around her. “I can’t say here. Can I meet you?”
Of course. You are welcome at my house—all I ask is that you call when you are departing.
“We’ll be there tomorrow, Orochimaru.”
Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you again, Tsunade—but who is this ‘we’?
“My intern…and the boyfriend of the patient. Uchiha Itachi.”
Sasuke will be delighted, I’m sure. I’ll be expecting you, Tsunade.
Click.
0o0o0o0o0o0
“Itachi.”
This is Tsunade.
Itachi sat bolt upright in the bed. “Neji? Is he—“
Stable for the moment. But I’m calling in an old friend of mine to help. We’re going to meet him tomorrow; can you miss classes?
“Of course. Who is it?”
Your brother would know.
“Mr. Haruki? Why?”
I can’t say. I’ll pick you up early. Be ready.
“Very well. Thank you, Ms. Hisano.”
No problem, Itachi.
Click.
---
March 2nd
40 Days after Initial Infection
24 days remaining
---
Tsunade was at the apartment complex at eight in the morning, knocking on Itachi’s door. He answered it, dressed already.
“You ready?” she asked, jingling her keys in her hand. He nodded, and grabbed his backpack. He locked the apartment and they left. Sitting in the car going up the 5 to Santa Clarita, Itachi tried to recall everything he could about Haruki Orochimaru, the geneticist who had caused such a schism in his family.
It had been a blow to Uchiha Fugaku, head of Uchiha Security, that his eldest son had come out as bisexual. So when Sasuke, too, had announced that he favored boys over girls, Fugaku had been beside himself. First he’d denied it (“You aren’t really gay. You just do everything your brother does.”), and then he’d gotten angry (“Ungrateful little shit, if you think I’m going to let you go to college so you can chase ass all across campus, you can think again!”). Finally, he’d seemed to come to terms with it and let his second son start classes at College of the Canyons, but then he’d found out that not only was Sasuke dating a man, he was dating a man older than Fugaku.
Sasuke’s story that Orochimaru had, of course, seconded, was that he’d been on campus filling in a lecture spot for a friend. Sasuke had been in that class, and, apparently, they’d chatted a bit after. Chatting had led into an invitation to dinner, and another, and another…
Itachi had a passing acquaintance with Orochimaru; he’d come to UCLA a few times to give lectures as well, and after he started dating Sasuke, they’d talked at family dinners a few times. He was intelligent, charismatic, handsome, and fit for his age, and when he’d walked into the Uchiha residence with Sasuke under his arm, nobody had said anything further about it. Fugaku still ranted at both his sons for disgracing them and leaving Uchiha Security to go to a cousin, but truth be told, neither of them cared. Both had gone into fields dealing with the law, mollifying their father somewhat, but things were far from being repaired.
Once they reached Santa Clarita, they turned off onto a rural road. Here the houses were spaced far apart, with pastureland between them as they got up higher into the mountains. Finally, Tsunade turned into a long dirt driveway that led between pastures to a large house, nestled in trees. Each pasture had a horse in it—all colors, from a dark blood bay to a dapple grey so light that it was almost white. A chestnut mare nearest the barn had a belly big with pregnancy. The pasture opposite hers was empty, the gate open. A plume of dust was visible behind the house.
Parking in front of the double doors, they all got out of the car. The air was different here, Itachi thought as he shut his door and slung his backpack over his shoulder. Lighter, maybe.
“Nice spread,” Sakura commented. She’d pulled on a sweater. “Dr. Haruki must be well-off.”
“He comes from a wealthy family, and despite his disgrace he still has much standing in the science community,” Tsunade said. “He augments his salary enough to afford a place like this. And to spoil your brother rotten, Itachi--those are Shagya Arabians, if I remember correctly. They’re purebred, going all the way back to the beginning of the breed at the Babolna stud in Hungary.”
Sakura was talking with a gardener, who pointed toward the barn behind the house. The dust plume had reversed in direction. Sakura trotted back over. “They’re at the arena, he says.” Tsunade nodded and followed another dirt road around to the barn.
Looking around, Itachi snorted. Sasuke had kept his fascination with horses since childhood, and Orochimaru had encouraged it. Sasuke often talked about his races to the family—involved in endurance racing or something of the sort. He didn’t know much about horses, but apparently Sasuke and Orochimaru did.
Coming around the side of the house, he saw the arena and also his little brother astride a chestnut horse, cantering around the outside fence. The spikes his hair formed naturally were smashed down under a riding helmet, and when he came around to face them again his expression was one of total concentration. In the middle of the arena, jumps of varying sizes were set up, and as Itachi watched, Sasuke turned in and took the jumps in a specific pattern.
Orochimaru leaned on the fence, watching Sasuke ride. As they got closer, he looked over and nodded in acknowledgement. There was a large, pale yellow snake coiled around his shoulders. “Tsunade-hime,” he said, with a mocking bow. “A pleasure to be in your company again.”
“Stop that,” she said with the absentminded affection that long familiarity with a person’s quirks will have. “We’re here on business.”
“You are. Are they?” He gestured at Itachi and Sakura. “I’ve met Itachi before, but who is this pink-haired beauty?”
“Haruno Sakura,” the intern replied, blushing just a little under the attention. Ever the exhibitionist, Orochimaru took up her hand and kissed it. The snake watched her with beady golden eyes.
“Haruki Orochimaru,” he said, straightening again. “This fine fellow is Garin.” He stroked the head of the snake affectionately, then turned his eyes to Itachi. “And what brings you out here?”
“My boyfriend is sick,” Itachi said carefully. “I was told by Dr. Hisano that you’d be able to help.”
“Were you?” Orochimaru said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s possible. The good doctor will have to inform me about this sickness. Your boyfriend…he’s one of those Hyuugas isn’t he?”
“Neji, yes.”
“I knew his father and uncle. Intelligent family.”
“Very.”
“Orochimaru, we should—“
“Hey, were you watching me?”
Sasuke trotted over on the horse and dismounted fluidly. He’d grown a little since the last time Itachi had seen him, filled out with muscle. His hair had gotten a little longer, and it sprung right up again when he took off the helmet.
“What do you think, is Nenet…” Sasuke trailed off as he saw there were more people there than Orochimaru. His eyes nearly bugged out when he caught sight of Itachi, and with an accusing glare at Orochimaru, he pointed his finger at his older brother. “What’s he doing here?”
“On business,” Orochimaru said lightly, looking over the horse carefully. “Cool her off and put her away, and then come inside.”
“What’s he doing here, Orochimaru?”
“I’m sure you’ll find out if you put Nenet away and come back inside.”
Sasuke huffed and jerked the reins, tugging the mare along with him almost angrily. She picked up on his annoyance and started to prance and toss her head, and Orochimaru sighed.
“I’ll have damage control to do when you leave,” he said lightly, and led the way back up to the house. On the way, Tsunade handed him a copy of her notes on the disease, and Neji’s condition every time she checked on him.
The inside was richly appointed without being too ostentatious. Orochimaru let Garin slither onto a perch in the foyer, carefully positioned to catch the weak March sunlight, and led the way past a staircase to the den, full of comfortable-looking couches and chairs, and with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Scanning the books just around the chair he occupied, Itachi could see everything from fiction novels to scientific journals. A backpack tucked in the corner, and some textbooks next to it, told him this was probably where Sasuke studied.
Orochimaru had seated himself in a chair that looked more like a small couch, and looked at the three of them, golden eyes flicking back to Tsunade. “So. Tell me about this mystery disease that’s got you worked up.”
Tsunade explained all they knew about the disease; that it was blood-borne, that it looked like the flu but produced an extreme lack of energy and induced bloody coughing and vomit. And then she brought up the lack of evidence for it in the bloodstream.
“It’s like what I told you in the e-mail,” she finished. “It’s like the original virus never existed.”
Sasuke came in and sat on the floor next to his lover’s feet, splitting his time between listening and glaring at Itachi, who remained unfazed. This was the first time he’d heard any of this, and he didn’t want to miss anything. Especially not for his idiot brother…but he did note that after he’d heard that Neji was the patient in question, Sasuke had perked up, and stopped his fidgeting.
Orochimaru had been still and silent the whole time, occasionally flipping through Tsunade’s notes to look at something that she’d just mentioned. He seemed impassive, but something about the way his unusual eyes flicked between Tsunade and Itachi, and how he focused intently, told the Uchiha he was listening. When she finished, his hand went absently to Sasuke’s hair, stroking it thoughtfully.
“You want me to develop a vaccine for this disease in less than a month,” he said slowly, “When past efforts on other vaccines have taken years?”
“Yes.”
“Impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible, Orochimaru.”
“This is. I cannot isolate a virus, analyze it, and come up with a vaccine in the time frame you ask. I might be a genius, Tsunade, but I’m not a miracle worker. I’m far from it.”
“Orochimaru, I can’t trust anyone else to help me. Please.”
Sasuke surprised them all, moving to sit on the arm of the chair next to Orochimaru. “You should listen to them,” he said to his lover. “And help Neji.”
“Sasuke, it’s not—“
“Shut up, because it’s not. Unless you lied to me and you’re not a genius, but just damned lucky?”
Orochimaru shot him a withering look. “I will consider it, Tsunade,” he ground out. Sasuke glared right back, crossing his arms. “I’ll have an answer to you by morning.”
“Thank you,” Tsunade said. She stood. “We should get going. I have to check on my patients.”
All smiles, as though nothing had ever happened, Orochimaru showed them out. “Drive safely, Tsunade-hime,” he called. Leaning against the door, Sasuke waved. Tsunade watched in her rearview mirror as he followed the older man back into the house and the door shut.
From the backseat, Itachi asked, “Do you think he’ll help us?”
Tsunade gripped the steering wheel. “I hope so.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Sakura snuck Itachi into Neji’s room again. For a while, they were quiet; then Itachi spoke.
“We went to the house of a man who can help us,” he said quietly. Exhausted, burning with fever, all Neji could do was nod. Itachi swallowed.
“He’s a geneticist, a genius. One of Tsunade’s friends. Haruki Orochimaru. He’ll be able to help you get better.” If he agrees, Itachi added in his head.
Weakly, Neji spoke up. “Do they think there’s hope without him?”
Itachi remembered Tsunade’s desperate look that she hadn’t known she wore, and thought about his own reservations. Orochimaru was dangerous, shiftless, and could just as easily carry out some experiment on Neji that would kill him as help him get better.
“They do,” he said flatly. “They think you’ll pull through.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
“Well?” Sasuke asked. “What are you going to do?”
Orochimaru paused a moment before pursing his lips and pulling the black silk pants he slept in up all the way. His hair was still in the bouncy ponytail, and as he sat in bed, Sasuke watched that ponytail bob up and down as Orochimaru stalked into the bathroom and disappeared around the corner. The water ran briefly.
“Tsunade’s the doctor, not I,” he said.
“You’ve got a doctorate,” Sasuke replied. “Two, even.”
“I’m a microbiologist-biochemist. I work in genetics, I learn what makes us human and why things are as they are in our bodies. I can’t save lives with these projects yet, and I don’t even know where to start on Tsunade’s mystery disease. And they’re not medical degrees, Sasuke.”
“She hasn’t given you all the information yet, either. You don’t have Neji’s health records.”
“How did you know I wanted those?”
“I overheard you talking to Kabuto.”
Orochimaru leaned back, toothbrush in his mouth, and glared at his lover. Sasuke heard him furiously brushing, and smirked. The older man was thinking about it, he could tell. Finally, Sasuke heard him spit and heard the water running again. If Sasuke closed his eyes, he could run Orochimaru’s entire routine through his head. Undress, brush teeth, wash face…come out and brush hair. But right now he was splashing water on his face, and it was dripping…
Sasuke got a very bad idea at that moment, and smirked. Shifting so that his body was thrown into light and shadow, he pushed the sheet down around his hips, just so. It never, ever failed; and if Sasuke asked at the right moment, in the right way, he would get what he wanted.
Orochimaru picked up his brush and pulled the ponytail out. His dark hair fell past his shoulders, rippled and wavy from being bound up all day. Turning, he kept on brushing but Sasuke saw the change in his expression and stance, watched as those exotic hazel-gold eyes traveled over his body. He caught how Orochimaru’s tongue slipped out of his lips just barely, just the tip wetting them. It was when the scientist wasn’t trying to be overly sexy that Sasuke found him the most attractive.
Putting his brush down, Orochimaru padded across the carpet to the big bed, climbing on and crawling across to lay next to his younger lover, nuzzling into Sasuke’s neck. The very scent of Sasuke was enough to keep him content (for nights when he worked late in the labs, he often took one of Sasuke’s shirts along with him in a Ziploc bag so he could relax), even as his fingers strayed to the other’s belly and began to doodle.
“I don’t see why they couldn’t get a person doing work more closely related to their case,” he argued. “I care nothing for your brother or his lover, and my knowledge of the field of disease research is nothing compared to that of others. I research genetics, not pharmaceuticals.”
“Tsunade came to you for a reason,” Sasuke shot back. “She has to know something we don’t, and she does. You could tell she was holding back information too—that’s why you put on the show of saying it was impossible. And Neji’s a friend of mine. I might hate my brother’s guts, but Neji’s practically family. We came out together—please,” he asked, reaching to stroke a soft, pale cheek. His eyes were endlessly blue-black, searching, and his lower lip trembled just a little. Sasuke could see Orochimaru wavering now, and poured his whole heart into the perception that he was about to cry. Orochimaru hated seeing him cry.
Biting his lip, the older man nodded finally, black hair shifting in the light. “Very well. I’ll call her in the morning and tell her I’ll see what I can do.”
Smiling, Sasuke wrapped his arms around his lover’s shoulders, kissing him and deliberately turning the kiss into a passionate one. His hands kneaded Orochimaru’s back, and the older man shivered in pleasure. When they pulled apart, their cheeks were flushed and their eyes dark.
“Thank you,” Sasuke whispered as Orochimaru leaned over, kissing his neck while reaching for the lubricant on the bedside table.
---
March 3rd
41 days after Initial Infection
23 days remaining
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“Hisano Tsunade.”
I’ll take your case. But I want to you divulge all pertinent information—I can’t do my job if I don’t know everything you know. I want access to the patient, access to your laboratory, and anything else I think will help me in developing a vaccine for the patient.
Heaving a silent sigh of relief, Tsunade smiled at the sample on the microscope. “Thank you, Orochimaru.”
Don’t thank me yet, Tsunade. Say that when you move the patient out of ICU.
“Pragmatic as always.”
Practicality has always been my strong point. I am sending my assistant to collect copies of everything related to this case; he should be there in about half an hour. I will be in contact—and try not to send me any more e-mails.
Click.
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Blog Entry: say we stand for nothing? Think again
Posted by: in_sight
2:34 PM 2006-3-3
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What gets me the most sometimes, folks, is that some people don’t get out there and vote. We can’t change our country’s leadership if we never want to take a risk and have our opinion not count. We are a country of sheep now, blindly taking in anything we hear through the news without thinking about it. Just ‘cause the news says it doesn’t mean we have to take it as fact, you know? Some Greek guy who died a long time ago said “It’s the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.” Lemme tell you, whoever said that, he was a smart, smart man.
And if you’re afraid that your party will fail, that it’s not possible for it to win—like that convict who ran for prez a few years back now—you should still vote for ‘em. In politics as far as I’m concerned it’s the less evil person that you pick, and your vote for the little guy takes away from the bigger evils.
So like, get out and vote, stupid people who don’t vote. But don’t ever write “in_sight” on that little line for president. I couldn’t do it even if I were elected.
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Chapter notes: “Here It Goes Again” “ Ok Go
“Sora’s Folktale” “ Midori (for Escaflowne: The Movie)
“Sonne” “ Rammstein
“Besaid [Piano Version]” “ Nobuo Uematsu et al.
“Goodnight and Go” “ Imogen Heap
“Waiting on the World to Change” “ John Mayer
“Aquaria” “ Psycho le Cemu