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At The Intersection of Gauche and Obtuse	By : Sushi4Brains Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2102 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters and no profit is made from this work of fan fiction.

Chapter List
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Congruent Angles (geometry): have the same angle in degree or radians, that’s all. They don’t have to point in the same direction, or be on similar sized lines … just have the same angle.

"To sleep, perchance to dream-
ay, there's the rub."
William Shakespeare – Hamlet
He was falling …
struggling against a thick ochroid mist, the one that always grabbed him by the ankles and yanked him backward into memories of a childhood life in the Foundation couldn’t erase. This time, he was hovering above a crowded room inside Konoha’s orphanage where in a murky corner, sat a traumatized dark haired little boy. His face and dirty, the child easily blended into the shadows. Thinking him too afraid or too stubborn to speak, the civilian volunteers assumed he suffered from shock, as did everyone else in the aftermath of the Nine-Tails attack.   Rebuilding the village and burying the dead were priorities, leaving insufficient time or personnel to assess anything other than the boy’s basic needs. They smiled kindly at him, treated him equitably and promptly forgot about him. His only companions, the squiggly lines drawn on scraps of paper he kept tucked under his pillow.
Each day ... the same as the last – fed, bathed and alongside the others, trotted out before potential adoptive families; none however, wanted to take in the sickly-looking child.   Until one day, when a stern faced old man shuffled into the orphanage.
From the way the civilians regarded his presence, this man was someone important, though he looked so helpless; his head wrapped in bandages, one arm bound to his chest in a sling and the other hand gripped about the flat head of a walking stick. “That one, hiding in the corner,” the old man said, “I’ll take him too.”
“But Danzou-sama … he’s so … so frail … of what use--”
“My dear woman,” the wizened man replied as he walked through the assembled crowd, “all lives have purpose. What is his name?”
“We have no idea, sir … found him wandering in the rubble days after the Kyuubi – the only two words he’s spoken since were ‘kachan’ and ‘tochan.’ With all due respect, I must insist you consider another child.”
“Nonsense, his body can be trained and his mind educated. Bring him to me.”
Imitating what he’d seen the other adults do, the child bowed before the elderly man.
“My name is Shimura Danzou, do you have a name little one?”   He huffed out a laugh when the bold child hoisted himself to a standing position using the lower half of the walking stick. Soon the man was on his knees, establishing eye contact and waiting patiently as the child ran curious fingers over the bandages.
“I have need of someone as fearless and observant as you,” he said. “Would you like to be part of my family?”
Joggled awake when the cell door creaked open, he leapt from the cot, his arm automatically stretching across his body, his hand reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there.
“You,” the man in the tortoise mask said. “Lord Danzou wants your report. Follow me.”
“Yes sir.” Hastily wiping smudges of charcoal from his fingertips, the young man cast a backward glance at his unfinished work on the easel.
In silence, they make their way through the winding corridors.
The moment he arrives at the master’s private chamber, the door slides open and he’s pulled inside.
Everything was as he remembered.
Flickering candle and torch lights give the room an ethereal amber glow, a washbasin, filled with warm scented water sits inside the entrance; thick white towels neatly folded beside it. As he steps out of his sandals, an attendant is instantly at his side - without a word, he’s pushed down into a seated position on the steps; his feet washed, dried and soft slippers tied in place. The smell of incense swirls about him as he takes in the lay of the space.   There in the center of the room, was a low table spread with hot, tasty smelling dishes and tatami mats indicating the number of expected guests; there were only two.
Off to the left side of the room, a plush couch, beside it stood an easel with a blank canvas. Less than a foot away was a tall three-legged stool where the master's violin rested on a silk covered pillow. At the sound of the walking stick striking the wooden floor, he turns. Soon will his master enter from behind an ornately carved screen. His hands automatically slide down the front of his thighs, the tips of his fingers grazing his kneecaps as he bows his head and body in respect. The smell of pipe tobacco, woven into the fabric of master’s clothing becomes stronger as he draws near.
“The table is set,” Lord Danzou says. “Join me, won’t you?”
Kneeling at the appointed place, he kept his eyes lowered as steaming tea pours into the cup at his right hand - behind them, the door slides closed as the attendant exits.
“Another successful mission … well done, my boy. Once again, you've surpassed those in your age group, in stealth, intelligence and strength.”
“Thank you, Danzou-sama.”
The master serves him, studying his every move as he eats and drinks; meal time passes in silence until master excuses himself from the table.
“I’ve learned a new piece in your absence,” he said settling the violin under his chin. “Come, take your place at the easel, we have much to discuss.”
Lord Danzou believed enjoyment of one art form stirred the creative juices, inspiring other forms of art. The young man at the easel never understood the correlation, the music pulled more intricate paintings from his brush.
Over the haunting strains of the violin his master said, “It won’t be long before Akatsuki shows up in Konoha for the Nine-Tails. When that time comes, we must act quickly, bringing about revolution. We must be ready to seize control as the current administration will ultimately prove itself ill prepared to protect the village.”
“I understand, sir.”
“This tailed beast … it’s valuable to the Akatsuki and unlike it was in Suna, the Foundation will protect the jinchuriki. I haven’t determined the extent of your involvement; however, you figure prominently in my plans. To that end, I’ve selected a new code name for you … from this moment on, you will be known as
Sai.”
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At The Intersection of Gauche and Obtuse