Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

Lord of Lust	By : DonalGraeme Category: Naruto > General Views: 30052 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Shonen Jump and Kishimoto-san. I in no way profit from the publishing of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Lord of Lust
- 2-Ayame
- 1
- 2
You know how when you have an itch, and you REALLY want to scratch it, but you know that’ll just make it worse? Well, this is me giving into temptation. I’ve had the idea of this for years and finally I’ve decided to say ‘screw it’ and actually type it out.
“NARUTO!!!”
“SASUKE!!!”
Sadly, these were not cries of release between two lovers. How much more pleasant the world would be if the only time voices were raised was in the throes of passion. But that world is not the world our story takes place.
From opposite sides of a waterfall, two youths leapt at each other. One was determined to sever all bonds holding him back from attaining the power he craved. The other was even more determined to preserve the few bonds he had that lit up the darkness of his life. Words had proved unable to convince each other, so naturally they had escalated to lethal force. Uchiha Sasuke, the avenger whose past tormented him, filled his left hand with lightning tinged black by the twisted energy of the madman’s soul sharing space in his body. And Uzumaki Naruto, the fool who ever strived for a better future, spun an orb of destruction in his right hand, contained and shaped by the shroud of power he’d taken as ‘rent’ from the Tailed Beast sealed within him.
Their attacks met over the water, the conflicting energies twisting around them to form an orb of darkness. Yet at the point of contact, a light bright as the sun shown as the two boys who were all but brothers sought to beat the other into submission.
The boys stared into each other’s eyes and time seemed to slow to a crawl. Neither looked their best. Sasuke’s skin was grey, his sclera back, and deformed wings had grown from his back. Naruto’s already scruffy appearance had crossed the line to wild, his whisker birthmarks thick as knife wounds, his eyes a slitted-red. But for an instant, they saw each other the way they had met: two children, as different as night from day, and yet so similar in so many ways. Both new loneliness. Both knew the desperate desire to prove themselves. And, for a brief time, they’d been brothers.
Naruto felt all the anger and hate in his heart dissipate. This was Sasuke. The closest thing to a friend he had. And suddenly it didn’t matter what he wanted, what he promised Sakura-chan, or what the village would say. Sasuke felt he had to do this. He shouldn’t be punished for doing what he wanted. So, Naruto pulled his arm to the side, cancelling the attack. Sasuke was one of his precious people. In a way, he loved him. And when you love something… let it go.
Sasuke felt very differently about the moment. In his mind, that glimpse showed everything he could not afford. Friendship was weakness. He could not allow silly things like affection to hold him back. Itachi had told him that the only way to kill him was to use the power of hate. If Sasuke was ever going to bring vengeance against his brother for the murder of their clan, then he needed to truly commit. He would baptize himself in the blood of his best friend.
And so, when Naruto left himself open, probably out of some foolish sentiment, Sasuke seized the opening.
His hand, made deadly by the piercing power of lightning chakra, pushed through the front of that hideous orange jumpsuit, through the barriers of flesh and bone, to curl around the racing form of Naruto’s heart.
The orb dissipated. The two bodies crashed on the side of the river Naruto had jumped from. Slowly, their bodies returned to normal, the battle over. Naruto’s petite frame was spread-eagle on the ground, still as a corpse, blood spreading out beneath him in a puddle much too large. Sasuke crouched over Naruto, almost nose-to-nose, his hand still in the blonde’s chest. In a perverse way, it was the most intimate thing either had ever done.
Naruto’s eyes were wide in shock. He didn’t even feel the pain. He couldn’t feel anything. He’d been rendered numb by the fact Sasuke had really… But they were teammates! Rivals! Sure they got on each other’s nerves and Sasuke was a broody asshole but how could he actually… What the hell…
An ugly grin twisted Sasuke’s mouth. His fair features, the admiration of half the females in the village he had betrayed, morphed into something ugly. “Dead-last moron. Why so surprised? I told you I was going to kill you. And an Uchiha…” Sasuke drawled as he stood up, ripping the still-beating organ in his grip right out of his ex-teammate’s body, “Always keeps his promises.”
That sparked something in Naruto’s suddenly hollow chest. “L-liar.” Naruto almost choked on the blood that welled up in his throat. And breathing suddenly didn’t seem to work. Still, he was nothing if not stubborn. He forced the words out with what might be his last breath. “You promised… to protect Konoha. To protect your comrades.”
Sasuke seemed to be oddly fixated on the lump of blackened flesh in his hands. “Those were childish pinky promises to fools and has-beens that always held me back. I vowed on the blood of my slaughtered clan to avenge them. And if I have to walk through Hell itself to get the power to kill Itachi, I’ll do it smiling.”
The darkness was closing in. He felt cold. But Naruto was never one to go quietly into the night. He forced one last word from weak lips and heavy lungs. “Scum.”
Sasuke tilted his head. He remembered the stupid speech Kakashi had given his ‘team’ the day of the graduation test. “Those that abandon the mission are trash. But those that abandon their comrades are scum worse than trash.” He turned his gaze on his dying ‘friend’, and his eyes were no longer coal black, or even the blood red and tomoe of the Uchiha clan’s prized Sharingan. Instead, a crimson six-pointed star formed by lines of abyssal black met fading ocean-blue. Sasuke did not even look human anymore. He seemed a demon.
“Useless trash,” Sasuke stated with total apathy. Then, eager to use the power he had sacrificed what little humanity he had for, Sasuke focused. A ring of flames black as oil flared into existence around Naruto, just barely touching the ends of his hands, feet, and hair. Had Naruto the strength to move, he’d have flinched from the excruciating heat with a scream.
Sasuke grinned. This was the Amateratsu, a Jutsu unique to the Mangekyo Sharingan. The flames were said to be hotter than the sun, and would burn for a week without fuel. When the fools from Konoha came to see what had happened to him and Naruto, they would find the dobe dead in this circle, unable to reach him to move him. The body of the friend he killed would serve as monument to the rebirth of Uchiha Sasuke… avenger.
As Sasuke walked away, off to the arms of a man who had promised him power, he was unaware of the turmoil happening inside the body he’d desecrated.
“Shit, shit, shit. Come on, you stupid human brat! Don’t choose now of all times to give up… Dammit, why do hearts take so long to regenerate?” The Kyuubi thrashed against the walls of his cage, which was slowly being swallowed up by darkness as his host’s life faded. Yet still, the bars stayed strong. “Great! Just fucking great! It’s bad enough being stuck in these stupid humans for the better part of a century! Or that the one time I got some fresh air, I got hypnotized, split in half, and had that other half eaten by that asshole Shinigami! Now this shaved ape’s father made a seal strong enough to actually take me with his son when he got his ass offed for being an overly trusting moron! Things could not get worse!”
The fox’s tirade was cut off as an odd sinking feeling hit him. He looked down, but the ground hadn’t vanished; still a bunch of dirty water. So why did he feel like he was falling? He never felt anything in the confines of the brat’s mind. As the mass of sentient chakra puzzled out this new phenomenon, realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.
Blood of a virgin. A circle of energy. Five points of contact. And just enough of a fingerprint of the divine to turn it on…
“I stand corrected.” For an overgrown, oddly-proportioned fox, the Kyuubi could pull off a damn good deadpan.
Naruto, barely alive, got one last glance of a blue sky before his body sunk into the accidentally-created portal to Inferno.
In a way, he would never be seen again.

It had been a year since Sasuke had defected. A year since Sasuke had killed Naruto. A year since everything had changed.
Kakashi had arrived at the Valley of the End, only to find a warzone and a circle of Amateratsu flames filled with blood. Two weeks, after confirming the blood was Naruto’s and Itachi’s last location was halfway across the continent, it was finally ruled that Sasuke had murdered Naruto, thus gaining the Mangekyo, and the traitor had used those eyes to cremate Naruto’s body. There hadn’t even been ashes.
Normally, one Genin dying would barely be worth a blink. But when said Genin was the Jinchuriki of the Kyuubi and had a habit of worming his way into the hearts of those in positions of power, on top of a hero streak that saved hundreds of lives, it was earth-shattering.
When the news of Naruto’s death had ‘somehow’ leaked, despite Tsunade’s express command to keep everything related to the Retrieval mission under the highest standards of discretion, the general reaction had been one of jubilation. There’d been parties in the night, over half the village rejoicing that the ‘demon’ was finally dead. When the younger generation started wondering whether the village had gone crazy, cheering for the death of a 12 year old, Tsunade had decided to repeal Sarutobi’s law. It didn’t matter anymore. She’d made a public statement, revealing the circumstances of Naruto’s death and his status as a Jinchuriki. She’d made a point to emphasize that Naruto and the Kyuubi had been separate beings and that Naruto was in no way culpable for the events of the day of his birth or, to their knowledge, been influenced by the fox in any way. For all intents and purposes, Naruto had just been another Konoha ninja.
The older/more idiotic members of the village had rolled their eyes and called Tsunade a demon lover, while the younger crowd wrestled with confusion, unsure how to handle this bombshell.
But Tsunade had not been done. Deciding that if her blonde brat really was dead, then all his secrets out to be put out there. She’d gone on to reveal Naruto’s parentage, being the firstborn son of their own Yondaime Hokage, Namikaze Minato, and one of the last pureblood Uzumaki left in the world, Uzumaki Kushina. Tsunade had, quite loudly and pointedly, concluded by pointing out that Minato had been a genius at sealing and wouldn’t have used anything less than the best to protect the village by sealing the Kyuubi into his own flesh and blood, and that he’d fully expected Naruto to be hailed as a hero for saving the village.
That had made the smirks vanish on most of the haters faces damn quick.
As the dust settled, three basic camps emerged on the whole Naruto issue in Konohagakure. There was Camp Retard, which insisted that Tsunade was dead wrong or fooled or lying through her teeth about the demon brat being the child of their beloved Yondaime and continued to slander Naruto and everything related to him in peace. Then there was Camp Regret, most of them former tormentors of Naruto, who realized they’d done some truly terrible things out of ignorance and hate and wished with all their might that things had gone different. Those in this camp either made Naruto into a martyr to inspire them to do more good and promote understanding or drank themselves into stupors trying to forget all the terrible things they’d done to the boy.
Then there was Camp Remembrance. Those that had actually known Naruto, and realized that all this new information didn’t mean shit. Naruto had been Naruto, and they honored his memory as best they could.
Most of the Konoha 12 (or rather 10 now), threw themselves into training, most of them swearing blood feuds against Sasuke, Orochimaru, and the Akatsuki. Konohamaru was inconsolable for a week, until Iruka had had a talk with them. Then he’d sworn to take Naruto’s place as the Rokudaime and proved that he was quite the prodigy when he decided to apply himself.
The adults who’d known Naruto had been affected just as strongly. Kakashi now spent every waking moment brooding at the Memorial Stone, a new name adding the list that he mourned. After staying strong enough to deliver her bitchslap of reality, Tsunade had imploded. Her alcoholism and gambling reached truly toxic levels, until the only thing keeping her away from cirrhosis and bankrupting the village was Shizune’s babysitting. Jiraiya had given up peeping, stating that he didn’t deserve the pleasure of looking after he’d failed so many people so many times. He was seen once or twice since the week of Naruto’s death to deliver reports on his spy network, but otherwise the man became a true hermit.
The worst though was Sakura and Hinata.
Sakura, unlike everyone else with a heart and/or two brain cells to rub together, just whined that Naruto had failed to bring back her Sasuke-kun and constantly insulted him, whining about how he was such a disappointment. This had led to her being cast out of the group, who refused to even look at her. What’s worse, she honestly didn’t seem to understand what they were upset about. Her request for an apprenticeship under Tsunade, made with girly hopes that she could play nurse to Sasuke once he got over this little hard-to-get act and came back to her, had resulted in her being in traction for eight months. Considering Tsunade could have permanently crippled her in the most painful way medically possible, the aged medic thought she’d been very lenient.
Hinata however simply… fell apart. Naruto had been her inspiration, her guiding light, the only thing keeping her going. Without him, she was lost. She cried herself to sleep at night, but during the day acted like a zombie: mute and pale and lethargic. Her home situation took a nosedive. What little effort she’d put in before was gone; now she just let her father berate her while her sister beat her to a pulp.
Her team was worried sick. Kurenai, Kiba, and Shino all did their best to cheer her up when they were together, and Neji constantly looked out for her at home. All with no visible improvement. The rest of the Konoha 10 tried to help, with mixed results. Chouji treated her to Ichiraku Ramen, which always managed to get a cheek to twitch in what might have been an attempt to smile. Ino offered a girl’s day, shopping spree, spa, sleepover, the works, maybe even looking for some cute boys to flirt with. Instead of a yes or no, she’d gotten Hinata howling like a banshee as she’d thrown herself at Ino, screaming that she’d never betray Naruto and how dare Ino suggest she replace her beloved. Suffice to say she didn’t take it well.
Then, on the anniversary of Naruto’s death, Hinata reached her breaking point.
She’d woken up, planning to join Kakashi in staring at Naruto’s name all day, when a Branch Member had informed her that her father and the clan elders expected her at the family dojo right after breakfast. Her only reaction was a long blink. The young woman had decided that counted and left the heiress to her pity party.
After mechanically dressing and forcing some rice down her throat, despite it tasting like dust, Hinata had made her way to the dojo. She walked in to find the entirety of the Main House arranged around the room, all looking at her with disdain. Her sister, looking almost apologetic, stood next to their father, who might have been mistaken for an ice sculpture given his paleness and the coolness in his eyes.
“Hyuuga Hinata. You have been deemed unworthy of your clan heir status. You are permitted one last chance to defend your claim through trial by combat against your sister, whom would replace you. Do you understand the circumstances you are in?”
“Yes,” Hinata rasped. The only pro, if you could even call it that, to her depression was she no longer stuttered. It was hard enough to get her speak at all.
Hinata shambled into the proper place as her sister did the same. Hinabi took her stance, while Hinata just stood there.
“Hajime!” Hiashi called.
Hinabi tensed, expecting at least a little reaction from her sister. After all, this was much more serious than their usual sparring. This fight would decide the rest of Hinata’s life.
Hinata didn’t move. She wasn’t even in stance.
After a few tense moment, Hinabi came out of her Gentle Fist guard and simply walked up to Hinata. Her sister gave no indication that she noticed. She was barely breathing, the only hint a slight rasping noise. Hanging her head, wondering just how much that blonde commoner must have meant to Hinata to reduce her to this with his absence, Hinabi gave a simple shove to her sister’s sternum.
Hinata fell backwards, landing on her back. She didn’t even flinch.
There were quite a few rolled eyes and snorts. This girl was an embarrassment.
Hiashi remained stoic. “Hyuuga Hinata, you have failed the trial. You are hereby ejected from the Main Family. Your clan heir status is transferred to Hanabi. Have you any final words as a Main House member before you are escorted to the branding chamber?”
Hinata sat up, honestly trying to remember whether she should care. A small part of her rebelled at her apathy, screaming she had to fight, defend her claim. Because she had to become the head if she were to unite the two Houses. But that part was drowned out by the deafening silence of her heart. She had been in so much pain, ever since she’d heard that Naruto was dead. Really, what was the point of going on? What point was there to living in this grey fog without her sun to shine down on her?
In that moment, Hinata truly gave up.
“Just one,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and quiet from lack of use. Her eyes found Neji in the back of the room, whose eye’s widened once he read her face. She dimly thought ‘Sorry, niisan. You’ll have to free yourself.’ She turned to look in the eyes of the man who’d sired her. He’d never loved her. He’d always hurt her. She didn’t expect him to care, but one last attempt to break that shell couldn’t hurt.
“Goodbye.”
Then Hinata brought her hand up to her forehead and released the built-up chakra in her palm.
Hinata didn’t react to her sister’s screams or the shouts of the crowd. She didn’t hear her father cry out like a wounded animal as his shell finally cracked at the horror of the moment. She simply fell back, finally freed of her pain.

Another two years passed. In the big picture, Konoha hadn’t really changed that much. If anything, the quality of the ninja had improved. But the ripples of Naruto’s death and Hinata’s suicide were still strong.
The Konoha ‘9’ (Actually it was more like 8 given Sakura was enemy number one) had gotten even more determined to be their best. Ino, shocked by how much pain Hinata had really been in, decided to enter the Medic Corps, specifically mental health, where her clan’s talents would be a boon. Kurenai, desperate to fill the void left by Hinata, had thrown herself at Asuma. They already had twins and were expecting another child already. Side-note: Babysitting was officially declared the most troublesome job on earth by Shikamaru.
Tsunade was still floating in a haze of booze and bad lottery tickets. The only main difference between her and the stooge Sarutobi had devolved to was that she could turns bones to paste in a drunken rage. The Civilian Council and Danzo had seized a great deal of power, but there was no obvious disrespect and Tsunade honestly just didn’t care anymore. She’d given caring for people a second chance, only to get burned again.
The Clan Heads did their best to keep Konoha from becoming a total landfill, given shortsighted idiots clamoring for more privileges and an apathetic head of state. Hiashi wasn’t much help though. It was as if Hinata had passed her zombie virus to him. It had taken Hinata taking her life before his eyes to make him realize what a failure he was a father, and that realization had sucked all vitality from him.
It was evening, and a Council meeting was winding to a close. It was mostly just reports, and everyone was looking forward to the end of the latest budget assessment. Tsunade sipped up the last of her sake, wishing she could just pull a Nara and go to sleep, but even as low as she felt, she wasn’t going to be that indecorous. If nothing else, she had the reputation of the hat to consider.
The nasal civilian was just winding to a close and Danzo was preparing to introduce a new team reassignment policy that would make it easier for him to slip his ROOT agents into the standard forces, when everyone jumped at the sudden sound of a heralding trumpet.
Half the room drew concealed weapons while searching for the source of the odd noise. They didn’t have to look far. At the foot of the table, there sat a fox the size of mountain lion. As if that weren’t odd enough, it’s fur was indigo, except where it’s two, count them, two tails ended with tufts the color of fresh grass. It seemed to have no trouble playing the long horn held to its muzzle with paws that seemed to move like fingers. When it finished a light, haunting melody, it dropped the horn, which seemed to fade into thin air.
Then it cleared its throat and said, in a light crisp tenor, “Greetings.”
“AH! THE DEMON SPOKE!” yowled Haruno Rakusa, Sakura’s mother.
The fox eyed the woman, seeming less than amused. “I beg your pardon, but is there really any reason to get so agitated stating the obvious?”
“IT SPOKE AGAIN! TO ME! AH, SAVE ME! IT’S INFECTED ME WITH ITS TAINT!”
The fox winced. Apparently he had sensitive hearing. Then again, you’d have to be deaf not to react to a Haruno woman’s screech. “Perhaps I’m at the wrong place. I was under the impression these were the chambers for the Council of Konohagakure. Have I perhaps instead arrived at the offices of a mental asylum?”
Despite themselves, a few of the Clan Heads had a giggle at that. Rakusa opened her mouth to scream again, only to be knocked out some well-aimed Killing Intent from Tsunade. Clearing her throat, and wishing she hadn’t had that last bottle, she said “You are in the right place. Who are you and what do you want?”
“How blunt,” the fox sniffed. “I am merely Ducard. I come bearing a message.”
“What message?” Shikaku asked. This wasn’t a summon; none of the Tailed Beasts had summoning contracts of the same species. Rukusa’s snap judgment was born of fear, but it just might be accurate. That, or this Ducard represented some made scientist dabbling in genetic manipulation.
Ducard cleared his throat. Then, with the air of someone who has practiced something thousands of times and performed it just as many, “The Lord of Lust, Second of the Seven Sins, Ruler of the Perfumed Valley, Tamer of Winds, High Courtesan of the Hedonistic Court, Keeper of the Gehenna Gate, wishes an audience with you.”
“What did the fox say?” blurted Chouza.
Ducard’s hackles rose. “I swear to the Serpent, if that happens one more time…” Taking a deep breath, he seemed to regain his composure. “In layman’s terms, my master, one of the most powerful demons in Inferno, which you know as Hell, wants to talk to you.”
“We refuse.” Danzo stated. Tsunade eyed him out of the corner of her eye. She was about to say the same, but still. Presumptuous of the old cripple.
Ducard gave Danzo a look. “Truly, my communication skills must be failing me. That, or I have a particularly idiotic audience.” As everyone bristled as that, the demon went on. “This is not a negotiation. This is a notification. My Lord is on his way as we speak. He simply felt you deserved a little time to prepare.”
“So a demon’s coming to visit… troublesome.”
Shikaku’s nonchalance would have been admirable if it had been born from courage rather than lethargy.
“Well, this doesn’t happen every day,” Tsume muttered.
“We cannot allow an unknown party to just waltz in here!” Koharu spat.
“Perhaps if we were to express our ‘disagreement’ to the messenger…” Homura demurred.
Ducard broke into a series of yips that Tsume immediately identified as laughter. “Bless it, but you’re serious!” Ducard’s eyes settled on the two old prunes, and they noted his eyes were an icy blue that seemed to freeze them in place. “You are either grossly overestimating yourselves or underestimating my master and I. Possibly both.”
Suddenly his tails started went stiff and rose up. An aura of pure power suffused the room. It made Killing Intent seem like a child’s toy. Ducard quite simply made them feel how strong he was, and it was enough to make even Tsunade shiver.
“The fact I am the deadliest creature within ten miles in any direction notwithstanding,” he growled out, “any attack upon my person would be interpreted as an act of aggression against my master. And he’s literally destroyed planets by accident.”
Ducard took a few seconds to let that fact sink in and air out his frustration, before reigning in his power. The atmosphere vanished and suddenly he was just a 180 lb. sentient fox. “Really, where are your manners? One of the most significant beings in the multiverse wants to talk. You should consider this an honor.”
Before they could recover from the display, the real show started.
It started with the smell. Each member of the council smelt something different, but they all would have agreed it was the best thing their nose had ever sensed. A perfume of their favorite scents that carried undertones that seemed to just make them lightheaded.
And then the wind started. From howling gale to gentle breeze, each seemed to appear from nowhere within the room. And each flow was visible, the air tinged different colors as it swirled around them. The wind overtook the room, each current chasing the other like wild, mischievous animals. It helped to spread the mysterious perfume, until the entire room was saturated with it.
The streamers of colored air started to sparkle, little bits of light coming from nowhere until the room looked like it had been invaded by glitter fairies. Then in a rush, like the inhale of some massive entity, it all congregated in one spot slightly behind Ducard. The flecks of light all came together and seemed to coalesce to form a sheet of diamond or crystal, so thin and flawless you could see through it, yet it still reflected all the different colors of the wind and the scant light of flickering lights, almost blinding anyone that looked at it.
Then, as if this thin wall were some trick doorway, a man walked out of it. As he set foot on the wood of the floor, the wind and crystal seemed to be sucked into a single point and vanish, as if they’d been vacuumed out of existence.
Not that anyone noticed. They were too preoccupied with the man.
There was no one word that could adequately describe him, except perhaps ‘overwhelming’. Looking at him hurt, as if they were gazing at the sun, something too bright to handle. Or perhaps he was simply that beautiful. His face had the classical proportions and flowing lines of royalty. His eyes seemed to change color with every move you or he or the light made, and they seemed to twinkle and darken just as quickly. Hair like spun gold hung down to his shoulders like a proud lion’s mane. Skin of gleaming copper, flawless and hairless, perfectly framing a musculature as intimidating as it was appealing. He was neither lithe nor hulking, simply defined and full with just the right amount of softness to make it impossible not to imagine sleeping on it… or under it… pressed flush against…
He wore nothing but a mantle of royal purple that settled on his shoulders and collar bone and a belted skirt or kilt. The cloth was white as virgin snow, a sharp contrast to the rich color of his legs and waist. The belt seemed to be made of strands of gold so fine it was as if spiders had spun it into a web. Tiny chips of gemstones of various shades were studded into openings. His long fingers and delicate wrists bore a countless number of rings and bracelets of various metals, each distinct from the other. Some were simple and unadorned, others featured symbols and gems arranged in such complex patterns it boggled the eye. On anyone else, it would seem garish, like a costume. On him, it seemed to just work.
Then a voice as smooth as silk, rich as chocolate, and melodious as an angel’s choir came from a long throat and soft lips and felt like it caressed and tickled and teased the listener’s entire body before it finally reached their ear to reach their melting brain. “I smell fear… and traces of your power. Ducard, you weren’t scaring them for fun, were you?”
Ducard lowered his head and ears, his body seeming to lean towards the source of that voice, every inch the repentant servant. “They expressed their displeasure at your desire for an audience. They even had the audacity to consider attacking me to make a point, as if that would prevent your arrival. So I felt it necessary to impress upon them how foolish such an action would be.”
“Now, now, Ducard. You must forgive their fear and stupidity. It’s part of what makes humans so unique. Besides, we are guests in their village and world. It is upon us to maintain decorum should they prove rude hosts.”
The dream of a man stepped forward and then snapped his fingers. Seeming to form out of pure light, a throne appeared behind him as he lowered into it. It appeared to be made from gold, and various figures engaging in all manners of graphic debauchery were carved into the glowing metal wherever it wasn’t covered by sunset red cushions. The man… or rather demon lounged in it, somehow conveying power and authority despite looking so comfortable. In fact, his legs were set rather wide. If one tilted their head just so…
Everyone in the room was being affected by the… demon’s appearance, even the old men. It was as simple as gravity; one could not be near him and not be attracted. No matter how much their minds rebelled, thoughts kept creeping up, and bodies were certainly reacting…
“Shall I leave now, milord?” Ducard asked.
“No. I’d prefer to have a witness to this.”
“Understood, master.” There was a pause and the fur under his eyes seemed to darken. “Um, if I may beg milord’s indulgence…?”
Without a word, the captivating demon reached a hand down to the side of the throne and ran his fingers through the fur atop Ducard’s head. The fox demon, who’d minutes before had everyone in the room cowering, began to purr in obvious delight.
Tsunade cleared her throat. Things had gotten really weird really fast. It was time to act like a shinobi and regain control. “Greetings. I understand you wished to speak with us… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name. The fox just spouted a bunch of titles.”
The godlike creature spread his lips to reveal gleaming pearls, each one slightly sharper than a human equivalent. “Names are very powerful things. How about, for the purposes of this meeting, I call you Hokage-san and you call me Demon-san?”
Tsunade swallowed. “That seems fine. But what is this meeting, exactly?”
The man breathed out, and his breath seemed to reach each of the Council members. It was like a super-concentrated form of the odd perfume that had heralded his arrival. Many started to feel seriously hot under the collar.
“I don’t want to waste any of each other’s time, so I’ll get to the point Hokage-san. As Ducard no doubt told you, I am a demon of considerable power and influence in Inferno. I wish to set up a base of operations in this world, and this meeting is to determine whether you will consent for that base to be here in Konohagakure.”
“Why in the world would we allow some filthy, evil demon inside our glorious village?” Koharu spat out.
The demon gave that outburst all the attention it deserved, i.e. none. “In exchange for allowing me the use of your village as the hub of my business, I am prepared to offer several services I can with certainty state only I can provide.” The man opened his hand and a scroll like any at the Konoha Library appeared in a shimmer. It seemed to float out of his palm to settle on the table in front of Tsunade. “This is the contract I am offering. All terms are final and nonnegotiable. Take it or leave it.”
Danzo frowned. Well, he was always frowning, but the canyon that was his brow deepened. “That’s unreasonable. For all we know, one of those conditions is a virgin sacrifice each month. Konoha will not simply fold over to your demands, Demon-san.”
The demon’s eyes shifted from Tsunade to Danzo. “I’m sorry, you are?” he asked, as if he were addressing a particularly interesting bug.
“Shimura Danzo, Advisor to the Hokage,” the elder answered, somehow managing to be condescending even when his brow was sweaty with suppressed desire.
The demon tilted his head. “Well, Advisor to the Hokage, that’s just the way I do business. Either you accept my terms, or I’ll find someone who will.”
Danzo’s face got even more severe. “Do you think we would simply allow you to take your power to another village?”
The demon raised a brow. Then he blinked.
Out of nowhere, the four ANBU posted around the room appeared and collapsed to the ground. All the civilians jumped while the shinobi tensed in fear. There had been no detectable use of chakra, or even energy like when Ducard had terrified them. The demon was clearly responsible, yet he had not so much as moved.
“I think that you are operating under the false belief that you hold the high hand here, Advisor-san,” he said in that delicious voice. “I’ll be blunt: I am literally the most powerful existence you have ever met or are ever likely to meet. I can kill you the way you can squash an ant: with no conscious effort, perhaps by accident. I could literally walk away right now, and I’d do a lot more than just render unconscious anyone you sent to stop me.”
Danzo gulped. Danzo gulped.
Tsunade really wished she hadn’t had that last bottle. “I think we’re getting side-tracked, Demon-san. We will of course give your terms careful consideration. How long will you give us to decide?”
“One hour.”
“One hour?” Inoichi gaped.
“I said I didn’t want to waste time, didn’t I?”
Tsunade grit her teeth. This was the metaphorical rock and hard place. They either gave this stranger what he wanted, no ifs ands or buts, or he’d take his resources to a rival village. And judging by that little display, they were substantial. “Can we at least read it first?”
“I’d be insulted if you didn’t, Hokage-san.”
Screw it, the buzz wasn’t helping. Tsunade did a minor filtration jutsu to sober her up as she opened the scroll and started to read aloud so the rest of the Council could hear.
The legalese wasn’t too bad. Essentially, the “Lord of Lust” was offering a monthly payment of one million ryo on top of carrying out six missions a month with guaranteed success. They were also able to consult him for advice about a situation. In exchange, he would get an area that totaled a minimum of three blocks that would essentially be its own country, exempt from the laws of the village within which he would run operations he would run in their world. There was a binding agreement between both parties to make no moves to directly physically harm each other’s person or property under their names. Any breach on Konoha’s part would result in, quote, “the immortal souls of the undersigned of the second party being declared the property of the first party effective immediately”. On the other hand, if the Lord of Lust hurt them or failed a mission, he would pay restitution in the amount of one billion ryo and return to Inferno along with any and all property he’d brought into their world and he couldn’t return until a century to the day after the death of the last living member of the Council.
Tsunade looked up once she got to the dotted lines. “I know these are absolute, but can we at least have you clarify some of the details?”
“It would be my pleasure. I want there to be true informed consent in this venture,” the epitomic male demurred.
“I cannot help but notice there is no clause preventing physical harm of anyone but us. What is stopping you from murdering everyone in the village but us?” Shibi asked with his measured calm.
“Ah, I see the problem. I have a very loose definition of ‘property’. Upon examination of the Konoha Charter, I concluded that every official citizen of the village fell under ownership of the Hokage. If that’s displeasing to you, feel free to amend it after our deal is struck.”
Tsunade rose a brow. That was a bit of a lucky break. Of course, it ran both ways. Hypothetically, if the Lord of Lust had a pet Cerberus and it ate everyone, he technically wasn’t the one doing the harm so he was exempt. However, the dog would be his property so they couldn’t fight back. Well, they could command ninja to bring it down, but still.
“You guarantee success on any and every mission?” Danzo asked, some mad spark appearing in his squinty eyes.
“Yes, but only the ones I accept. So don’t get any clever ideas to have me assassinate one of you and then making off with my payment for reneging the contract. So long as I serve a minimum of five, I can wipe my derriere with any mission I don’t like.”
Tsunade pretended not to notice the way Danzo frowned. Really, did he think she was so zonked she wouldn’t notice something as blatant as that? She’d have to have a ‘chat’ with the cripple.
“And of course, should Demon-san commit anything we consider a crime while in his territory, we cannot charge him since, technically, our laws don’t touch him there,” Homura ground out.
The blonde tempter grinned playfully. “Of course. It’s right there, clear as crystal. Naturally, should any of your citizens commit what I consider crimes in my territory, I retain the right to issue judgment. But should any of your citizens commit crimes under your law in my territory, you may charge them as soon as they leave my borders.”
Tsunade glances at the clock. They only had fifteen minutes left in their allotted hour. “Demon-san, would you be so kind as to provide us some privacy to discuss whether we shall accept your offer?”
“Of course, Hokage-san.” That said, the demon seemed to pull two tufts of cotton from the air, stuffed them in his ears, and leaned back in his throne. He closed his eyes and his body relaxed, apparently taking a nap, though his hand kept idly scratching the dozing Ducard.
“Cheeky. Well, good enough,” Tsunade ground out. “I must admit I’m torn.”
“Hokage-sama! Surely you aren’t honestly considering this?” one of the Civilian members yelled.
“I am.” She glared at the offending man until he bowed his head. “I’m not comfortable with the huge loophole his little camp affords, but the money will help our economy greatly, and I can rest knowing that all the vital S-ranks stacking up won’t risk some of our irreplaceable men and women.”
“If he can even deliver on his conditions,” another civilian scoffed.
“If he can’t, we get a sizable settlement and he goes away, taking the dangers with him. And the mission he fails to complete won’t come back to us since he’s not one of our ninja, just a contracted third party,” Danzo pointed out.
“Yeah, but imagine how people will react to him. We had enough of an issue with the Uzumaki kid. Plus he’s the Lord of Lust. If his territory is going to have what I think he’ll set up without our anti-prostitution laws stopping him, I’m concerned what effect that’ll have on our reputation,” Inoichi raised.
“Plus, he just promised not to injure anyone. There’s plenty of ways to hurt someone without ever touching them,” Tsume mused.
“All valid points. However, the benefits seem to outweigh the potential risks. S-rank missions with 100% chance of success are unheard of. The success would bolster our reputation greatly, and his financial tribute could further aid the recovery of our losses from three years ago,” stated the shrewdest (and sanest) of the Civilians.
“I feel I should raise the concern that he might seduce us all to do whatever he wants,” stated Shibi with a straight face. “Perhaps I am particularly affected due to my Kikaichu, but I personally find his pheromones quite… distracting, and I detect tension amongst you as well.”
Almost involuntarily, everyone glanced at the man at the same time just as he breathed in, emphasizing the lines of his abdomen.
Shikaku shivered. “His presence does indeed introduce a lot of… confusing and troubling thoughts. However, we’re not wild beasts, plus most of us are married. We should be able to resist, and he can’t rape us. That would be physical harm.”
“What if he talks us into it? What if he rapes one of the civilians?” Koharu challenged, trying to resist the urge to fan herself.
“By his own admission, he counts the citizens as my property, so they’re safe from physical coercion,” Tsunade countered. “As for succumbing to temptation… well, that’s just a chance we’ll have to take.”
“Are we taking it, Hokage-sama?” Homura questioned.
The Sannin glanced at the clock. “Seems we’re out of time to debate. Guess we have to decide that now. All in favor of accepting Demon-san’s contract?”
All but Koharu, Hiashi, and three of the civilians (counting the still out Rakusa) raised their hands.
“Majority rules, then.” Tsunade took a breath to try and calm her racing heart. They were literally making a deal with a devil. She prayed this wouldn’t come back to bite them all in the ass. “Demon-san?” she called.
Ducard licked his master’s fingers, causing his eyes to open. He pulled out the cotton and dropped them. They never touched the ground, seeming to just vanish. “Yes, Hokage-san? Have you come to a decision? Only a minute left.”
The Council all exchanged uneasy glances. Was this really the right decision? Well, he who hesitates is lost.
“We agree to your contract.”
The man’s face split into a breathtaking grin. “Splendid! If you would all be so kind as to sign? A simple drop of blood will suffice.”
Passing around the scroll, each member pricked their finger with a needle Tsunade offered and let the crimson liquid be absorbed into the paper on the next empty line. Those that had voted against dallied about it, but succumbed to the pressuring stares of their peers, though Hiashi did it without complaint. He didn’t seem to even notice what he was doing.
When the scroll made it to the eagerly waiting Lord, he brought one of his hands to his mouth and blew. One of the four rings on his middle finger started to glow red-hot, though he paid it no mind. He pressed it into the space marked for him. As he pulled back, those nearby saw that a crest had been burned into the paper. All of a sudden, the scroll vanished in a flash of light. Everyone on the Council felt a brief moment of heat in their chest, before it vanished, leaving them wondering if they’d actually felt anything.
“Well, now that we are in business, would you mind telling us your name? It’ll get tiring just calling you Demon-san all the time,” Tsunade asked.
The demon’s grin became positively shit-eating. Ducard started to huff in suppressed giggles. Many raised a brow.
“But of course. Now, you must understand that I have many names. I have assumed many different identities over the course of my existence. Also, I have absorbed a great many souls, and the memories of the owners’ lives are as real to me as my own.”
Then his eyes seemed to flash as his grin shifted to something more mocking. “But for old time’s sake, you may call me the name I had when I was human: Naruto.”
Sexiness starts next chapter, just wanted to establish the premise.
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Lord of Lust