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Breakfast in Bed by NayanRoo

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Chapter notes: Disclaimer: I do not own Orochimaru, Sasuke, or anything else Naruto. Characters, places, etc are copyright of Kishimoto.

Written as part of a drabble challenge by friends. First time using TONFA's interface, forgive me if I've done something wrong.
Sasuke does not go often to breakfast with Kabuto and his master. He prefers to spend his time training. He eats when he is hungry and sleeps when he is tired, but these are so often off-schedule with the routines of the other two that he hasn’t the time or the temperament to eat with them.

His body has become all hard muscle and smooth, pale skin in the one year, one month, three weeks and two days that he has been with Orochimaru. The snake has taught him many things he knows he will find valuable when he finally goes to face him, even giving as a gift a fine sword that has become as much a part of Sasuke as Sasuke has of his master. Sometimes the snake will come into the round room Sasuke likes to train in (when they’re in that particular lair; some weeks it’s a high-ceilinged cavern, others it’s a huge slab of rock that overhangs a still, spring-fed pool) and watch him through slitted eyes, occasionally correcting his form or offering a pointer on how to more efficiently complete a move. Conservation of energy is important in Sasuke’s plan to kill his brother. But in his training, this point seems to be overlooked.

***

He wakes up in a finely appointed room. The covers on the futon are smooth purple silk, expensive and luxurious. Raising his head a little, he sees the coverlet is blazoned with the familiar Heaven seal. His own mark throbs just the tiniest bit as the screen slides open and his master enters bearing a lacquered tray heaped with things that smell good and make Sasuke’s stomach growl.

Orochimaru smirks. His master’s face has since been uncovered and he wears his old face, pale and snakelike with those unsettling eyes. He’s bound his hair back today, a thick, shining braid; he is wearing a blue-patterned yukata with a white sash. “You’ve been pushing yourself hard lately, Sasuke-kun,” he says. His ‘s’ sounds are always slightly hissing.

“I’ve been more driven lately,” Sasuke replies cheekily. He tries to sit up and cannot.

Gently his master sets the tray down and puts pillows behind Sasuke’s back, boosting his shoulders up into a sitting position. Sasuke relaxes against the pillows and watches as the snake kneels next to him and moves the tray over Sasuke’s lap. “You have slept for two days straight.”

“I’m fine,” Sasuke snaps. Orochimaru gives him a long, level look.

“You have torn three muscles in your shoulders and two in your legs,” he says calmly. “Kabuto has attended them but they are not to be strained for another week at least. You have also scraped off approximately one-half of the outer layer of your skin, as well as bruised three ribs and depleted your chakra to an alarming level. In all, you are not to set foot in the training room for another two weeks.”

“Two weeks – You can’t keep me from training!” Sasuke shouts. His master smirks.

“Can’t I, Sasuke-kun? Eat something. Or better, drink the vile-looking liquid there – it looks sickening but it is full of nutrients your body desperately needs to repair itself. Do not make me force you to do this.”

So under the watchful eye of his master, Sasuke has his first breakfast in bed since when his mother would fix them for him on his birthing day.
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