[The room Kakuzu enters is pretty well-lit, for once. Thinking on it, he hasn't been back to this stupid place in a long time...oh, the sheer idiocy of whatver being could come up with a world like this. It was like a neverending maze that, frankly, wasted more of his time then a certain albino zealot.

Anyway, he enters the room and wanders to the center of it, looking around at various things. It looks like a very comfortable living room, and there's a couch, a fireplce, a table with a few books and a newspaper on it, a rug on the floor, a bowl of fruit at the table on the other end of the couch. And it's winter, judging by the snowflakes cascading outside the large window, framed by velvety burgundy-colored curtains. Kakuzu reaches out to pick up the newspaper, but his fingers go right through it. An illusion.]

...hm.

[ he's somewhere quiet. an outdoors-type room, cruel irony considering the nature of the dressingroom. there's a small pond, and a rock in the center.

kabuto, never a fan of the spotlight, simply sits at the pond's edge. he stares hard at the water, at his reflection. one could almost claim he was lost in thought, were he not of quick enough wit to keep near-perfect track of his surroundings.

this place, and the foresight it has provided him regarding Orochimaru and Sasuke, has taken a toll on him. kabuto isn't necessarily used to thinking for himself, as much as his double- and triple-crossing would suggest otherwise. he's always been at the behest of some higher power, and now he's faced with too many questions to process at once:

where to go? who to follow? who to trust? well, that last one is simple. trust no one but yourself. ]

"But who- ... am I, I wonder?"

[ and suddenly, breaking the un-room's solemn tone, he laughs to himself. what a childish question. he supposes, however, that he isn't too much unlike a lost child. 'shall i simply live in each moment?' he wonders. his expression is caught between a smile and a frown, his brows furrowed from frustration(or is it trepidation?) despite his lips curling into a sheepish grin.

the environment, the feeling he gives off.. is best described as 'real'. until this point in his life, Kabuto was a puppet at best. he silently wagers that these moments are his first true moments of 'life'- his first experiences to refer to entirely as his own.

will you break the returning silence? ]

[A dull glow of a light can be seen as the rather porcelain-faced shinobi of ROOT is in a dark den of a room.

Within the room there are many scrolls and books. Sai seems to pay no mind as he is very interested in the content of literature he is reading.]

[Madara was sure he was dreaming.  First, he found himself in a strange hallway with hundreds and hundreds of doors all around him.  Then, upon opening one of these doors, he found himself in what seemed to be the forest right outside the area in which Konoha was being constructed.]

[And, strangely enough, no matter how long he walked or in what direction he went, he never seemed to make any progress.  Despite the fact he started moving off in one direction, he would somehow find himself in the same location several minutes later.  It was as if the forest was trying to challenge him.]

[Perhaps it was one of Hashirama's tricks.]

It looks like I'm going to be late for that meeting...

OOC:  Young!Madara, if you didn't figure it out!  Village is in the middle of being constructed and none of the silly Hokage picking business has occurred yet.