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Birthright	By : sadfascist Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3578 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own NARUTO, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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BIRTHRIGHT
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: “The Sword with a Soul”
Naruto did not sleep. At least, he tried not to. It was easy enough to shut out the bad thoughts, when he was awake, but dreaming was another matter.
In his dreams he could hear Sasuke screaming.
Sasuke screamed when Naruto stabbed him in the chest. He screamed again when Uchiha Itachi dragged him to the dungeons below the imperial palace and began the torture. Naruto hadn’t been there to see it, in reality, but that just made the nightmare worse. Sasuke was naked and chained to an iron rack, like the shark girl in Madara Square. Itachi peeled his skin off with a kunai. He fucked Sasuke, too, raped him without mercy. Sasuke screamed and then it wasn’t Sasuke in the dream but Naruto. Naruto was a child again, a little boy. “Do you remember who you are?” the master asked him as Naruto struggled against the chains. He was so scared. “You are my weapon. A rusty weapon…” Naruto screamed as the master flayed at his dick. “The rust must be cleansed. Oh, yes.” Blood gushed down the boy’s legs, black and splotchy red. It was the same color as the burn on his master’s forehead. Uchiha Itachi peeled off the burned skin and underneath was the slaveseal. Just like Naruto’s own. Then the Warlord began to laugh.
Naruto woke alone.
The silk sheets of his master’s bed were still warm, but the master was nowhere to be seen. The Warlord was busy of late.
Naruto got up and went to the adjoining washroom to take a bath. The tub was already filled with steaming water, but the soap was running low, and the chamberpot was faintly odorous. He’d have to order one of the palace slaves to replace it later. Master Itachi had exacting hygienic standards.
After scrubbing himself clean, Naruto pulled on a fresh kimono and went back to the bedchamber. The sheets were sticky; they’d need to be replaced too. It was fortunate that a sea wind was blowing from the open window, or the whole room would be clammy with heat.
Then Naruto remembered that the wind was unnatural.
It was late in the morning, and the sky a clear startling blue. All of Sawara seemed to tumble away below him, terraced roofs and pagodas and sloping wooden houses, falling artistically into the sea. The Haven River danced in sunlight, a sheet of glittering mirrors. The harbor danced as well, danced with the thousand warships of the Scarlet Fleet, ribbed red sails billowing in the wind. His master would be down there now, overseeing the defense.
“He has no chance, you know. The Warlord.” A quiet sharp voice, behind Naruto. “Otsutsuki Hagoromo is coming and the Sage of Six Paths will sweep the Warlord away like he never was.”
It was the Lady Rin.
“Lady Rin-dono,” Naruto told her. “You speak blasphemy.”
“I meant to. Every word is as true as your master is false.”
The woman who stood by the bed was richly dressed. Her kimono was layered in silk of dark cherry and turquoise, the colors of the Misain clan. A yellow battle standard was stitched to the chest, to honor General Kakashi her dead husband. Fine rainbow gemstones shimmered in her hair. Yet the expensive clothing only made the woman seem all the uglier. Her hair was a clump of brittle reeds, her face was scrunched in like a withered thorn bush. An old hag, she was.
They said Misain Rin had been beautiful once, but Naruto could not see it.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“You know very well. I’m leaving. I should have left thirteen years ago. And I’m taking Uchiha Sasuke with me, before the Warlord lops his head off. It is an insolent head, I grant you, but he only has the one.”
“You shall do no such thing.” Naruto felt cold, even in the late spring heat. “You’re a traitor.”
Rin giggled. “Why, thank you.”
“I won’t betray my master.”
“So you betrayed the boy you love.”
Naruto didn’t answer.
“Let me tell you about love, child. Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same. Look at my face. I am just over the age of thirty and I’ve more wrinkles than a finger after a bath. Thirteen years of grief will do that. Even after I married… Kakashi was not so bad, really. A fool, to be sure, most men are. But I did not love him. I loved Itachi—the true Itachi, not that half-blood fake. I could not forget him. And you will never forget Sasuke, child. No matter how you try. When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.”
“I can’t,” Naruto whispered. Even as he spoke his throat burned, aching; a shudder was in his teeth, in his spines and ribs, cracking him open to the heart. “I can’t help you.”
“I never claimed otherwise. It’s all been arranged.” Misain Rin waved her hand. “I only want you to take me down to Sasuke’s cell. Can you do that, slaveboy?”
I can take you down into the dungeons, Naruto thought, but I don’t have to bring you back up.
“Yes, Lady Rin-dono. Follow me.”
The descent through the palace was long, winding. Naruto knew the way. They walked out of the Summer Mansion overlooking the sea, where the Warlord made his quarters, and then across the imperial gardens to Birthright Keep. The tower itself was badly burned, but the dungeons beneath were largely untouched. It was cool there, and dark. Branching stone tunnels crossed in every direction, lit only by oil lamps. Naruto could have closed his eyes and still made all the turns. He’d spent a great deal of time here, in his childhood. The stale air was as familiar to him as the sky.
It’d been a week since the ambush in Shinjukame Temple, and Naruto hadn’t seen Sasuke at all. But of course he knew where Sasuke was.
It was where the Warlord always tortured his favorites.
“Men,” said the Lady Misain Rin. “So attached to their little toys. This place is built like a maze.”
“You’re one to talk. How long have you been scheming to betray the Warlord?”
“Schemes are like fruit, they require a certain ripening. Though not so long as you might expect.” Rin was silent for a while. “For many years I did nothing, in truth. I wish that I had.” Then she whispered a poem:
A life in vain.
My looks, talents faded
Like these cherry blossoms
Palling in the endless rains
That I gaze out upon, alone.
“The Old Woman,” said Naruto. “By Okki of Kyouko.”
“It was Sakura’s favorite poem. Itachi did not care much for poetry, he was not that sort. He liked the sun, he liked to run and jump and shout. He liked to make me laugh.” Rin’s voice was so soft that Naruto strained to hear it above the echoes of their footsteps on the stone. “I loved them both. The fake could not fool me, I knew he was Naruto from the start… the Warlord, I mean. But I was afraid for my life. No one dared question him, after the Night of Blood. And I was lost in a river of grief.”
They turned a corner, and in front of them was a heavy iron door, chained by padlocks. It was guarded by four samurai.
“We’re here,” Naruto said.
“Lady Rin-sama,” said one of the samurai, bowing. “We are honored—”
“Let me in, you fool,” Rin snapped. “Now.”
“Yes, my lady.”
When they drew open the door, a stink came rushing out. It was vomit and shit and dried blood, the sharp acrid odor of charred meat. The cell was pitch black. Light from the hall outside leaked in, throwing twisted shadows against the torture chamber walls.
Sasuke was there, chained to the floor.
It was worse than in any of Naruto’s nightmares.
He was not screaming. He lay motionless on the cold stone, naked, pale body shrouded with dark ghastly bruises. Many torture instruments were in evidence. Long welted scars from whips, stab wounds from knives, broken nails and bones from metal screws. The burns were the worst. Molten pokers had been thrust into Sasuke’s body from head to bottom, mutilating the skin into a mass of charred blisters. The dye had come out of his hair, and the silver locks were matted with blood and with sticky gray cum.
Naruto thought he was dead, until Sasuke raised his head.
“Naruto…” the other boy whispered. His voice was dry as dust.
“Sasuke.” There was a long pause. Dare I say it? “I’m here to kill you, Sasuke.”
Rin closed the door behind them. The cell was suddenly plunged into darkness, before Rin lit the lamp on the far wall with a candle. “Do you think that’s a mercy, boy? It won’t be, for either of you.”
“No,” Sasuke gasped. The look on his face was as cold as the morning moon. “Don’t… don’t kill me. My revenge… please. Not if you love me.”
Naruto closed his eyes. He couldn’t look. “There’s no need for further torture. The Warlord has extracted all relevant information by now.” He couldn’t breathe. “I should have killed you in Shinjukame Temple.”
Sasuke did not answer. He lay limp in his chains, unconscious.
“I’m sorry,” Naruto whispered.
There was a loud thud outside the cell door. Another thud. Then the door swung open and Minister Sougon Sawar stepped inside. A katana was in his hand, dripping blood; the Minister wiped it clean on his red robe. The bodies of the four samurai guards were behind him.
“You’re late,” Rin said.
“Fashionably so, as always.” Minister Sawar chuckled, but his eyes were sharp and shiny as a hawk’s. “What of the slaveboy?”
“Naruto wants to kill Sasuke.”
“Ah. That is a problem.”
Naruto had not expected this turn of events. “Are all of you traitors?” he demanded.
“Certainly,” replied the Minister of Coin, “which is to say, every man has his price. Namikaze Nyuka betrayed the Warlord for the sake of conscience. Lady Rin, for love. As for myself, I am a simple man. I know when a ship is sinking, and I would rather not be on it when it does.”
“You think Hagoromo will win.”
“Don’t you?”
“Come with us, Naruto,” Rin said. “You’ve already aided our escape. The Warlord will be furious. Run, before he throws you in the dungeon in Sasuke’s place.”
Naruto unsheathed his sword. “I haven’t aided anything.”
“Please,” said Sougon Sawar. “Wave that stick around as much as you want. If you meant to use it, you already would have.”
“I’m going to kill Sasuke.”
“Oh? Do it, then.”
Sasuke was right next to him. Naruto could bring his katana down and stab Sasuke through the heart. Like I meant to do in Shinjukame Temple, except that I missed. His hand had shaken at the last moment. There was no reason for his hand to shake now. It would be so easy. So easy to kill them all. Sougon Sawar was a skilled fighter but he was no match for Naruto. Master Itachi would be very pleased.
Naruto brought his katana down.
He missed again.
The sword scraped the stone beside Sasuke’s head, drawing sparks. There was an iron collar around Sasuke’s neck, and the tip of the sword shattered the chain which linked the collar to the floor.
“Damnit,” Naruto said.
“Indeed,” said the Minister of Coin. He made four quick strokes of his own, cutting the rest of Sasuke’s chains. Then Rin was lifting up Sasuke’s hurt limp body in her arms, surprisingly strong, and walking quickly for the door of the cell.
Sounds came to Naruto’s throat as he watched them go.
“Promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me that he won’t ever come back. That he won’t try to kill my master.”
Misain Rin stared at him with shriveled dark eyes. “You know I can’t.”
Then the three of them were gone.
It was the sword’s fault, Naruto thought later that night, as he trudged up the steps of the Summer Mansion back to his master’s bedchambers. It did not obey my will. He was his master’s perfect weapon, but his sword had not been. It had moved of its own accord.
The sword with a soul.
Rin was right. The Warlord was furious.
“Master,” Naruto told him. “I… I couldn’t stop them. It was my fault. Please… please punish me…”
Uchiha Itachi did not move. He sat cross-legged by the window, moonlight spilling down his pale silver hair. His face was a mask. It was made of stone and ice, and Naruto could not look at it without flinching. Those dark merciless eyes, that terrible burned scar. This was the man who had conquered the Blood Country. This was the man who ruled over an entire continent with a cross of twisted iron, the man who, very soon, would be the first Birthright Emperor in five hundred years. This was the man who had raised him.
When the master spoke at last, it was only one word.
“Why?”
The cold voice cut through the night air like a blade. Naruto shivered.
“I…”
“Do not lie to me, little slave.”
“Because… I love him.”
“Sasuke?”
“Yes.”
“And do you love me?”
Naruto faltered. “Master. I… I’m your slave…”
“Is that so? Slaves should not love their masters. I never did. I hated them. That hatred gave me the strength to kill my own family. But you are not me.”
“No, master.”
“So who are you?”
“I’m your right arm.”
“No,” said the man. “I do not think so. You hate me.”
“Master Itachi—”
“You hate me.” Suddenly the man moved, leaping up and kicking Naruto in the gut. Naruto doubled over, gasping in pain. The master grabbed the boy’s hair and yanked his head viciously, forcing him onto the bed. “You should hate me.”
His master kicked him again, in the crotch. Naruto screamed. His master was raining blows on him, hammer strikes, breaking his ribs, making him vomit blood. His master was going to kill him. He tried to crawl away, but the man wrenched him back with a force that snapped his shoulder from the socket. “Stop!” the boy shrieked.
“Yes. Tell me to stop.” The man tore at his slave’s clothing, ripping off the kimono, the loincloth. “Flaccid little cock.” He stabbed the heel of his foot into the boy’s scrotum. Again, kicking him in the balls. Again.
“Stop!” Naruto screamed. “Master… please…”
“Does it hurt?” The master seized the boy by the throat and slammed his head into the wall in front of the bed. Wood splinters slashed at Naruto’s face, blood flowing down his cheeks, mixing with his tears. His eyes were on fire. “It should hurt. You are my slave.”
“Please…”
The man was on top of him now. He jerked at Naruto’s hair, and when Naruto cried out he forced his tongue inside the boy’s mouth. It lolled there, hot and vicious. His master kissed him all over, stretching and pulling at Naruto’s broken body like a puppet doll. He pressed Naruto flat on his stomach. “My beautiful little boy. Tell me to stop.” Naruto had no strength left to struggle. His vision swam with maggots, the color of blood.
“Tell me to stop!” the master screamed. “Tell me to stop!”
His master took him. He took the boy harder than he ever had before, thrusting his manhood again and again into Naruto’s rectum, making Naruto shriek in agony. Naruto had never been punished like this. When his master orgasmed, coughing, the slaveboy’s dick was shriveled up like a cold dead thing.
Uchiha Itachi was still inside him, still erect. “You are my tool,” he said.
“I am your tool,” the boy repeated numbly. “I am nothing more.”
“You live only to serve me.”
“I live only to serve you,” the boy repeated.
The Warlord stroked Naruto’s face gently then, wiping away the blood. “You know,” his master whispered, “I think I like you better this way. When you hate me. Oh, yes, my little slave. As long as you do as you’re told.”
Next: CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: “One More Dawn”
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Birthright