Chapter 158: Kabuto Yakushi: Mommy Doesn’t Want Me Anymore?
Lord Danzō promised that as long as he completed the mission here, he could free the director from Root’s restraint and gain freedom, allowing them to start a new life in a safe place.
This belief was like a beacon in the darkness, supporting every day he wore the mask, letting him swallow all the bitterness brought by loneliness and disguise.
The ox cart passed through the last inner city gate built of heavy rocks, and the clamor was instantly isolated outside.
The air in the Seventh Prison Sector suddenly became coldness and stagnant, mixed with the dampness of the stone walls, disinfectant, and a faint, heavy aura of despair.
The tall gray stone walls seemed to block out the sunlight, casting cold shadows.
The Star Ninja guards wore dark uniforms, expressionless, with sharp eyes like eagles, their swords and armor gleaming coldly in the dim light.
The heavy iron gate slowly opened amid the harsh sound of metal friction, revealing an even darker passage inside.
The Logistics Squad began unloading, moving the heavy supplies into the warehouse.
Natsuhi spoke in low voices with the prison sector’s guard captain, checking the list.
Kabuto, Junhito, and Hazuki, following instructions, were responsible for transporting the packaged food baskets into the prison sector, where special guards would distribute them to the prisoners in each cell.
“Tch, this damn place is really depressing.” Shita Junhito hugged a basket full of black bread, couldn’t help but mutter lowly, wrinkling his nose as if trying to dispel the lingering cold scent.
His voice echoed slightly in the empty stone corridor.
“Focus, Junhito.” Murahashi Hazuki hugged the vegetable basket and reminded him softly. Her perception was particularly sensitive in this place filled with negative emotions and chaotic chakra, her face slightly pale.
Kabuto didn’t speak, just silently pushed a small cart loaded with several food baskets.
He kept his head slightly lowered, his lenses reflecting the dim light, hiding the emotions deep in his eyes.
Acting like an ordinary genin entering such a strict environment for the first time, somewhat nervous and uncomfortable.
The cart’s wheels made a monotonous rolling sound on the uneven stone ground.
The distribution point was in a long, dim corridor deep in the prison sector.
On both sides of the corridor were rows of heavy iron gates, each with only a palm-sized observation slot.
They needed to go to these iron gates one by one, distributing a portion of food to the prisoners through the windows.
The air was filled with the smell of sweat, mold, and the bland scent of food.
Kabuto was responsible for the windows on the right side of the passage.
He sequentially placed the black bread, a small handful of dried vegetables, and a spoonful of bland bean soup from the basket into the worn wooden bowls or tin plates extended under the window.
His movements were mechanical, his gaze lowered, avoiding direct contact with those numb or venom-filled eyes.
“Faster.” The guard’s hoarse voice rang out.
Kabuto picked up a black bread, habitually preparing to put it into the bowl at the window.
His gaze inadvertently swept past the window, glancing at the face protruding from the shadows of the iron gate.
Time seemed to freeze in that moment.
The sound of the cart wheels rolling, the guard’s scolding, the distant coughing of prisoners, the muffled sounds of Junhito moving boxes…
All sounds receded like a tide, leaving only the crazy pounding of his own heart in his chest, heavy as if it were about to explode.
It was an extremely familiar pair of eyes.
Those brown eyes that once were as gentle as spring sunshine, tolerance all the grievances and fears of the orphanage children, were now covered with a thick, unwipeable layer of dust.
The gaze was empty, scattered, having lost all focus and spirit.
Blankly facing Kabuto’s direction, yet as if passing through him, staring at some point in the void.
No recognition, no doubt, not even the numb vigilance one should have when facing an unfamiliar food distributor.
Just a dead silent blankness, like two dried-up deep wells.
It was the director!
Nono Yakushi!
His… mother!
Kabuto’s mind went blank.
All the blood in his body seemed to rush to his head in an instant, then coldly flow back to his feet in the next second.
The black bread pinched between his fingertips was almost crushed by his unconscious strength.
Kabuto Yakushi stared fixedly at that face, the face engraved deepest in his soul, supporting him through countless dark years.
He couldn’t possibly mistake his own mother!
Even if those eyes had lost all the brilliance he knew…
But that was her!
The director who picked him up from the warfare and brought him back to the orphanage, wiped the mud from his face with warm hands, gave her glasses to him who was nearsighted, and hummed soft lullabies to coax him to sleep!
“…”
Kabuto’s throat was like being gripped fixedly by an invisible hand, unable to make any sound.
He wanted to shout, wanted to shout that name regardless of everything.
But his remaining sanity was like the last taut string, reminding him of his current identity and situation.
He was the Star Country orphan “Kumamoto Kabuto”, a genin from the Land of Stars, who couldn’t possibly know the Konoha Root spy “wandering miko”.
The huge shock and the ensuing panic like a tsunami drowned him.
Why? Why was the director here?
Why was the director in the prison of the Land of Stars?! Wasn’t she supposed to be on a mission in another country or at the Konoha Orphanage?
And… she didn’t recognize me?
How could she not recognize me?!
How long has it been since I left the orphanage?
But that was the director!
The director who loved him like her own son!
His mother!
How could she look at him with such an empty gaze as if looking at a stranger?
Kabuto forced himself to lower his head, concealing the stormy waves almost bursting from his eyes and the tearing pain.
He used all his strength to control his trembling fingers, gently placing the somewhat deformed black bread into the broken bowl held in that skinny palm.
His movements were as stiff as a rusted machine.
“Tha… thank you.” An extremely dry, hoarse voice rang out.
Faint, blurred, with a sense of unfamiliarity after long silence.
This “thank you” was like a red-hot knife stabbing fiercely into Kabuto’s heart, then cruelly twisting.
No trace of familiar warmth, no fluctuation whatsoever, just an almost instinctual numb response.
This wasn’t the voice in his memory!
Not that voice that gently called his name!
A cold chill rapidly spread from his spine throughout his body, colder than the deepest stone walls of the Seventh Prison Sector.
The world he had carefully built to survive emitted a cracking sound on the verge of collapse in this empty “thank you”.
The pillar of his belief shook violently, as if it would completely collapse in the next second.
Lord Danzō’s promise… the director’s freedom… the promise of starting their life anew…
All of this… could it be just…
“Kabuto! What are you spacing out for! Move faster!” His companion’s voice exploded like thunder in his ear, jolting him awake.
