Warnings: Um... Spinning wheels. Reminiscing Orochimaru. And Team Sarutobi friendship. Sorta.

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The hum of the wheel comforts Orochimaru as the fibers slide between his fingers. Spinning is a chore done almost solely by machines now, the only humans still making their own yarn the ones who truly enjoy it. An old woman who lived down the street had let him watch her ar her craft, eventually teaching him. His parents would never have approved.

He likes spinning. It lets the mind work, and all the while something is getting done by the hands and feet. Besides—it often seems like the spinning of wool into thread forms thoughts as well as yarn.

Kabuto buys the unspun fiber for him, in Sound's market. Orochimaru likes knitting, weaving, and crocheting, but they all pale in comparison to spinning. And he so rarely has the time to do any. Kabuto also gives the yarn to a Chuunin named Machi. No one but Kabuto and the girl herself ever know where the yarn comes from.

She once, by way of Kabuto, gave him a hat knitted from alpaca thread. He never wears it outside of this room—shinobi are hard on their clothes, and a hat is the most likely thing in the world to get lost in a fight.

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(He remembers something Jiraiya said to him once—what was it? The memories are dimmed by the passage of time. Something about happiness, and the meaning of life.)

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What is the meaning of a ninja's life, when all is said and done? When you are lying on your deathbed (if you survive to have one) and try to think of what you've accomplished. A lot of people died a few years earlier than they would have if nobody'd killed them, so what?

This was another reason he likes spinning. It is nice to have something to say to the Shinigami when it asks you what productive things you've done in life.

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(It had been about friendship, too. When had his memory gotten so full of holes?)

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Jiraiya. Tsunade. A memory slowly floats to the surface, as he checks to see if the twist is tight enough. They'd all been sitting in Ichiraku Ramen, talking, teasing, and laughing. Ichiraku's, the unofficial restaurant of his team (it hurts, just a little, to think that—his team), then Team Minato, and now Team Kakashi. They were all so similar...

Team Kakashi. The boys had, from what he'd seen, been almost enemies, arguing near constantly. But...they'd been there for each other, when it really counted. They all had. All of them.

On a whim, he stops and slips the drive belt off the wheel, crossing the few steps to his desk to pick up a pen and paper.

Sealing and addressing the envelope, Orochimaru gets the feeling that for the first time in a long time, everything is going to be all right.

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One week later

Jiraiya opens his mail as usual. He almost doesn't recognize the handwriting on the letter, but when he does, he sits there staring at it for a long time.

After reading the letter for the third time, he sits back and wonders what to do. Forgetting is impossible. Forgiveness might be, as well.

But friendship has never been beyond them.

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A/N: This was inspired by Ddriana's 'Icha Icha Tactics', ckret2's 'Under the Snake's Skin, but most of all by the fact that last night I tried, for the first time, spinning while not listening to an audiobook or music. I spin a thread of thought as well as alpaca.

Yes, I do things other than read and write. Though not many.

After reading Ddriana's fic for the hundredth time (and I still need to review) I have come to see Orochimaru as someone—not someone who's nice, but as a person with his own quirks. And his own feelings—and friends. To quote Fallacy (Korina Caffeine): “There’s only so far you can go on being evil and underhanded. There has to be some point when you realize that you want to sit down and shut up.”

Wow. This author's note seems to be almost as long as the fic. Oh well—if you've made it this far, you will review anyway, right?

Right?

Lilz