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Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions.

-Edgar Cayce

"I'm not sure what you're expecting me to say," a young man sat across from an older man, sipping on a cup of tea. "It's just not possible. If I return, Orochimaru will kill me. Slipping a spy into one of his bases is a suicide mission. That's not what I signed up for."

The older man looked at him in irritation. "Of course you did," he snapped. "Death is an occupational hazard. Why do you think you're being paid so much?" The old man rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Honestly, you're being absurd. Just kill her. Then she can't point out the spy."

"Yeah, that was my first thought too, only problem is I have no idea what she looks like."

"I don't expect that there are many sixteen year old's walking around Orochimaru's base, are there?" The old man asked, harshly. "Find her, and deal with it. We are not going to pull you out of your mission just because you were spooked by a little girl and Orochimaru fishing for is not how the Shinobi of Sana handle their missions."

The young man tapped his fingers against his knee, and nodded. "Yes...you're right. Of course you are." He blew out a puff of air and bit his lip. "Perhaps she used to be a shinobi in Sana? That's how she must have been able to identify me."

"When did she tell Orochimaru about the spy?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe a few days. Three at the most."

"Then I'd get moving."

The young man bobbed his head and set the cup of tea down on the table. He reached down and grabbed his pack and stood up. "This might be it for me. You know that, right?" He asked.

"I'm aware how this works. If you fail, we have someone ready to take your place." The man smirked.

Fumi sat up with a soft gasp. Her eyes widened when she took in the dark, unfamiliar surroundings. She was laying on futon that was laid down on a solid block of wood. There were no windows. There were two candles on either side of the room, giving very little light. Fumi stood from the bed and looked down when she felt cold metal against her ankle. There was a chain attached from her ankle to the bed post. She sat back down on the hard bed, and pulled her leg up, looking at it. There was no key hole, but there was a Kanji for 'lock' written on the side of the cuff. Someone had cleaned the makeup off of her face and changed her into a scratchy bleach washed kimono, that reached down to her ankles.

Where was she? She...remembered the fire. The attack that she'd dreamt about more than a month ago. She remembered running into the forest, hitting her head, and Kyo. He'd been there, and healed her head. She reached up and touched her forehead, almost expecting there to be a still bleeding wound there. But then...all along he'd been... She remembered the look he gave her. His eyes wide with madness, a twisted smile showing off his perfectly white teeth. He looked like a monster was trying to burst through his skin.

Fumi covered her mouth when she felt a sob rise in her throat. She was crying. She cursed herself, wishing that she could be stronger. Strong enough to break the chains and free herself. Strong enough to keep a level head in an impossible situation. Where had Kyo taken her? Why did he take her?

For the moment, Fumi was alone, and she took the opportunity to scope out her room. The chain was short, not even letting her reach the wall furthest from the bed, where the door was. Even so, she suspected that the door was locked anyways. The walls she could touch, she ran her fingers over the stones, shivering as the cold seeped into her bones. It felt, almost, like the room was sucking out any warmth her body tried to produce. The clothes she was wearing were doing little to keep out the cold. There was a wooden desk, on the other end of the room. She opened the drawers and found only two more candles. Nothing to light them with. She groaned and slammed it closed.

She must not have heard the door opening, because when she turned around, she yelped in surprise when she saw a tall figure standing in the shadow of the doorway. He slowly stepped into the candle light and Fumi's breath caught in her throat when Kyo sauntered in and smiled pleasantly at her. "I'm sure you must have questions," he said, shutting the door behind him, pushing a key into the lock and turning it, leaving them locked into the room together. "But...I admit that I have questions of my own." He walked closer towards him, his eyes obscured by the light reflecting off of his glasses, though his smile grew, and Fumi felt cold terror in her stomach. She backed up, only a few steps, into the desk.

Kyo reached out slowly and gently grabbed her wrist, and turned it over in his hand. He looked at her palm. "How did you know those two would attack me? Did they tell you?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. "Let me jog your memory. You and I were drinking and you told me such an interesting story. Now, you and I both know that you didn't see all of that in a dream. So...how did you know?"

She opened her mouth, before snapping it closed. Had she...? Oh, her mother was going to be so angry. "I...I, sometimes I dream and-" she cut herself off with a screech when Kyo's hand tightened around her wrist. She could hear her bones grinding together. His facial expression didn't change, the same good-natured smile he always wore, looking down at her. She scratched at his hand, digging her nails into his flesh, but he didn't even flinch. "K-Kyo! Stop, please, you're hurting me!"

He hummed, almost as if he hadn't heard her. His twisted her wrist to the side, and her heart stuttered when she heard a sharp 'crack' echo in her ears. Tears filled her eyes, and she almost threw up. She couldn't scream. She wasn't sure why, she really wanted to. She covered her mouth with her other hand, and swallowed vomit that was trying to rush out of her mouth. Kyo twisted her hand, and she found her voice again. She screamed loudly, begging him through her tears to let her go.

She didn't notice the door opening a second time, and a man with long black hair entering. Both she and Kyo looked up when he cleared his throat. His skin was paper white, and his eyes were made from gold. And just like gold, they were cold and metallic. When she looked in his eyes, Fumi felt as if she had been caught by a deadly snake that was ready to devour her. He smiled widely while he walked further into the room. The thought that he was going to kill crossed her mind, when he stood by Kyo's shoulder and looked down, straight into her own wide eyes.

"Leave us, Kabuto," he said. His voice a smooth hiss. He was talking to Kyo, who nodded, giving her wrist one final squeeze before letting go and leaving the room. She hickuped a few times, holding her hand to her chest, as delicately as she could. The newcomer observed her, his hair falling into his face. He didn't take his eyes off her for a second. Eventually he leaned away, no longer towering over her. "Sit," he said, pointing towards the chair, near the desk. She thought of resisting, but only for a moment. She slowly backed up towards the chair, not taking her eyes off of the man. She sat down in the chair and flinched when he knelt down, moving her hand away from her injury.

His hand glowed green, and when he touched her arm, the pain left her. The light disappeared and she tightened her hand into a loose fist. Like it wasn't broken. She looked up at him in confusion.

"You'll have to forgive him," the man said, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk. "I suspect that he's fairly irritated with the fact that a civilian child was able to uncover a trap, that he didn't even know had been set for him." He observed her, unblinking.

Looking deeper into his eyes, she realized that she knew them. One of her dreams. It must have been. Yes. He'd asked her if she was lying to him. And she was afraid. "Who are you?" She asked, her voice soft, echoing on the walls of the room she'd found herself in.

"That doesn't matter right now," he said. "What does matter, is your brain. Or rather, what happens in your brain while you sleep. See, you've been sedated for the past three days, and while you were asleep, Kabuto and I monitored your brain waves. When you enter the REM stage of sleep, your brain...wakes up, so to say. Are your claims true? Can you truly open and read fate so easily...little girl?" He asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone as he spoke. Fumi looked down at her hands, picking at the skin around her nails. They'd been so beautiful, her mother had spent an hour painting them.

"See, I have a theory about your dreams," the man continued. "You see things that will in some way eventually impact you. Such as with Kabuto. You saw him die, and if he had, your village wouldn't have been destroyed. Cause and effect. So, while you dreamt, I may have let it slip that you told me of a traitor in our midst. I said you described him to me in perfect detail. I know that there are spies here in Oto, and I wouldn't be surprised if this caused them to act. So, tell me. Who is coming to kill you, little one?"

He leaned forward, putting his hand under her chin, grinning dangerously. "Kill me?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Yes. I'm testing my theory. Of course...if it turns out that your visions are false, I'll have to kill you myself." His grip tightened, and Fumi winced, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth. "So tell me the truth."

She pulled her head away, needing to use a surprising amount of strength for such a loose grip. Of course, his theory made sense. But was she really going to condemn a man, to certain death, to save herself? But that man, he was going to kill her if he got the chance. So, turn about was fair play, right? But she would be directly responsible for another person's death. Would she be any better than the man standing before her? No, she wouldn't. But despite it all, she wanted to live. "Black, shoulder-length hair that was tied up higher on his head. He has a skinny face, his jaw bones are well defined. Deep set hooded green eyes. There's a burn on his face, under his left eye, and down to his jaw. He's young. Can't be more than twenty years old."

"Good girl," the man praised, then gently pat her on the head. "When I can confirm his identity. I will have you moved to more hospitable living quarters." He turned away from her, walking towards the door.

"W-wait!" She called after him. He stopped, his hand on the doorknob, but he didn't turn around. "Are you...you aren't going to kill him, are you?" She asked, her voice shaking.

He chuckled darkly and turned around, looking her in the eyes. "No," he said quietly, and yet holding a promise of an unimaginable pain for the man who had dared to slight the black-haired man. Then he left her alone. The candles went out when he shut the door.

He pressed his back against the wall, making sure that there was no one in the hallway. There wasn't. The god of luck was on his side that night. There was only one of the rooms that was in use, obvious by the fact that the door was locked. Shin crouched down, in front of the lock and pulled out his pick. It only took a few seconds to click to the lock open. He opened the door, letting the light from the hallway into the room. He saw a young woman sitting on the bed.

Her hair was long, almost down to the middle of her back. She snapped her head, looking behind her. She gasped and stood up off of the bed and backed up into the wall. She looked terrified, her eyes red rimmed, like she'd been crying for hours. Her leg was chained to the bed posts. A prisoner then. He felt for the girl, he really did, but for the sake of the world he couldn't allow her to give him away to Orochimaru. But there was no need to make her suffer for very long. He stepped into the room, closing the door, and flooding the room in darkness.

He heard her hiccup, and slid down to the ground. He walked forward, until his legs brushed against her. She lashed out, kicking him with a cry of rage and fear. She hit his shin. He didn't even stagger. Her kicks were weak. What was a civilian girl doing here? He pulled out a kunai and reached out, grabbing her by the hair and tilting her head back. 'Just be quick,' he thought. She was struggling, smacking his hand, begging him through her tears not to hurt her. He moved the knife down and pressed it into her flesh. She screamed when she felt her blood on her neck. It was awful, honestly. He never enjoyed killing children.

The door flew open and he let go of the girl when he felt several kunai pierce his back. He jumped back, and looked to the door, the room now flooded with low light of half burned out candles. Standing there was Yakushi, his arrogant grinning face looking him over inquisitively, a few kunai on the ends of his fingers. And beside him was the regal cut figure of Orochimaru, standing as if he owned the world, as if everyone and everything should fall before him and tremble.

"It seems...there are more to your stories than meets the eye," Orochimaru said, slowly entering the room. He looked to his assistant who followed a few steps behind him. "Kabuto, deal with him, why don't you?"

"Gladly."

Her hands were shaking and she had dark circles under her eyes. Kabuto, because that was his name, was tending to the wound on her neck. She caught sight of herself in the reflective surface of a monitor that had been shut off and push to the side. She looked like death. Fumi looked over at Kabuto when he placed a metal dish down on a metal table next to the metal examination table she was sitting on.

She'd tried to fight him at first, when he put the cloth against her flesh to stop the blood, but he'd ignored her until his master told him to 'stop teasing her.' Then he'd brought her into his lab and ordered her to sit down without another word. He cleaned the cut with rough hands, and sewed it up. Nothing to dull the pain, no words of sympathy. Then he'd wrapped her neck in gauze and ordered her to stay still while he wrote something down furiously in a file.

"I..." she cleared her throat, and saw that he still wasn't giving her any attention. "I would...very much like to return home now."

"What are you talking about?" He asked, disinterested. "You aren't going anywhere."

"No, you don't understand...I have to go home."

He sighed and snapped the folder closed and gave her a blank look. "You, dear, have the sorry misfortune of having caught Orochimaru-sama's interest. You will not be leaving. Well..." He stopped and smirked at her. "You'll leave eventually...in a body bag, of course."

She clutched her neck, her eyes widening. She placed her trembling hands in her lap, blinking back tears, her lips quivering. She felt cold. Just as cold as Kabuto's lab. Her skin was ice. "I would like to go to bed."

He chuckled and shook his head, turning around in his chair. "There is someone outside, who has been ordered to take you to your new quarters." He waved her away. She stayed seated on the metal table, not quite sure what to do with herself. He raised his hand, snapping his fingers several times, and pointing towards the door. "I have work to do."

She slipped off the table, her feet making a soft tap against the tiled floor. She shuffled out of the room, opening the door, casting Kabuto one final look. He was writing diligently. She wondered if she could smack him over the head with a metal tray. No, probably not, would it be satisfying to try. She opened the door and found a man leaning against the wall. He looked rough and mean, looking as if he was made for that hallway. He turned and looked at her like she was dirt.

"Follow," he snapped at her, grabbing her arm, and pulling her. His hand almost was able to wrap around her entire upper arm. He stopped in front of a patch of wall, not saying a word. He placed his hand on the wall, and a door slowly began to emerge out of the stone work. He turned the handle, before pushing her into the room. He didn't give her another look, before slamming the door. It disappeared, no sign that it had ever been there to begin with.

The room lit with candles when the door closed, flooding it in a low yellow light. She slammed her hands against the wall, but knew that no one was coming back to let her out for quite awhile. So she explored her surroundings. There was a bed, a bit larger than the other room she'd been in before. With extra blankets that were folded up underneath the frame. There was another desk with a chair. This desk had a pencil and a notebook on it. There was a bathroom, with all the amenities she'd need. Some things were so fancy that she'd only heard about them, or saw them in the marketplace. There was even shampoo that smelled like peaches.

There was a closet with several casual yukata. Something that she'd wear if she was working. A few of them had simple flower patterns on them. However, when she touched them she found that they were made from the finest silk she'd ever laid her hands upon. There was a small box inside the closet filled with hair pins, and a box next to that filled with different colored obi. But even as beautiful and finely made as they were, they were nothing compared to the Furisode that was folded up. It was mostly green, but there were light pink sakura flowers that covered the majority of the lower half, as well as most of the sleeves.

Never, in her wildest dreams, did she ever think that she could ever wear something like that. She almost didn't want to touch it, worried that the oils from her fingers would ruin it. Why was that man giving her those things?

The last of the strange gifts was a shamisen that was propped up on a stand in the corner of the room. She reached out and ran her fingers over the neck, swallowing thickly. What was happening?