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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 THREE: “Kindness At All Cost”
The nobles were halfway through the dinner when they started to get drunk. Very drunk.
“Must that slaveboy be here?” the Admiral Hyuuga Hiashi demanded loudly, banging his chopsticks on the table. “Slaves I don’t mind, of course. Why, look at all these slaves serving our food and wine, whatever would we do without them? But that slave. A slave with a sword. A sword! Only we of the high blood, we have the right to hold a sword. No, that’s not right, I say! I can’t stand it!”
I’d rather not be here myself, Naruto thought. He was only there on his master’s command, to protect them in case the Demon Fox attacked. And protection they needed. The Admiral was so drunk he wouldn’t know which end of Naruto’s sword to grasp if he gave it to him.
“Oh, Oji-san, don’t be mean to little Naruto,” the poet Namikaze Nyuka said. “He’s a good boy. Not like the first Naruto. Yes, and he’s a slave as well, I concede the point. What is it the monks say? We all have our vices.”
“Some might say Lord Hiashi-san has the vice of being related to you, Nyuka-kun,” Misain Rin said, giggling and waving her peacock feather fan. The other guests chuckled at the witticism. The Admiral’s nephew was known to spend money as fast as he could talk girls out of their clothes, which was to say, very.
Lord Misain Arashi, Rin’s father, did not want to let the subject drop. “I fear Lord Hiashi-san is not wrong. Can we really trust any slave with weapons? Especially with all this talk of the so-called Sage of Six Paths in the air. Even in the high city the rumors grow louder by the day. Otsutsuki Hagoromo is coming to free the slaves, they whisper. He is spreading liberty. He is bringing Kindness At All Cost. The slaves are being stirred up like a hornet’s nest, set to strike at any moment.”
Nyuka shrugged. “You worry too much. Have you forgot the words of Kishimo Jiraiya? ‘For that some should rule and others be ruled is a thing not only expedient, but necessary; from the hour of their birth, some are marked out as slaves, others as masters.’ It’s the law of the world.” The poet grinned, raising his cup of sake. “Drink more wine, Arashi-sama, and listen less to idle talk.”
Arashi frowned, the wrinkles on his thin, yellowish face rippling as he changed expression. “Yet since the rumors began coming from across the sea, it must be admitted the slaves have not been the same. You know how superstitious and stupid the whole lot are. Half of them believe the Sage of Six Paths is some sort of god who is come to liberate them from their chains, and the other half believe just the same thing only they think the Sage is a demon from hell instead. None believe he is just a man named Senju Hagoromo with a fancy robe and a few circus tricks. Fear and habit will keep the slaves in line, but only for so long.”
“Pah!” Hyuuga Hiashi cried out. “Hagoromo this, Hagoromo that! I’m tired of hearing about the Butcher! I’m not afraid of him!” The Admiral banged his wine cup on the table, spraying sake all over his flushed red face. “Bring in the slavegirls!”
Naruto suppressed a groan. Not the slavegirls again. The last time Lord Hiashi called them in he had near died from the excitement, and he was not half as drunk then as now. If he falls over tonight I suppose it will save the Kitsune a good deal of trouble.
Though not too much trouble, at that. Hiashi and his guests were feasting under a little outside pavilion in his garden, open on all four sides to the night air. The manor house was many yards away. Thickets of cherry and plum trees obscured the ground, and the roof of the lightly guarded Shinjukame Temple hung over the wall right in front of them. Naruto could not have picked a easier place to attack if he tried. It was a death trap. A pretty, relaxing, fragrant death trap to be sure, but that was hardly worth a dagger to the heart.
The boy had tried to warn Hiashi of the danger. The Admiral had ignored him. “Bugger your Demon Fox, and bugger you as well, slaveboy!” he had said. Well, whatever happens tonight, Master can’t blame me.
A horn sounded, and the slavegirls entered the pavilion, a dozen concubines in long sleeved robes of glittering silk. They made a ring around the table, dancing and swaying to the tune of flutes. Each seemed younger and prettier than the last.
“Now these are the kind of slaves that I like! No swords!” Lord Hiashi shouted.
The drunken nobles roared with glee. “No swords! No swords!” they echoed. Nyuka pounded the table so hard he turned over a bowl of blowfish soup, and the head monk of Shinjukame Temple, Maito Gai, went so far as to jump on top of it. “No swords!” the monk shouted. “Just scabbards!”
“Scabbards, is that what you call it?” Rin asked, giggling. “Men. Show them a hole and they’ll try to stick something in it.”
Sougon Sawar, the Minister of Coin, smiled. His sharp slitted eyes were as black and shiny as pools of coal oil. “It seems you are enjoying yourself as well, Lady Rin-san. What has it been, one week, since your husband was murdered by the Kitsune? And yet here you are… happier than ever, some might say.”
“Spare me, Sawar-san.” Rin popped chopsticks full of steamed beef with honey sauce into her mouth. “If Kakashi were not such a fat gouty fool he could hardly have been stabbed to death in his sleep, could he have?”
The Minister’s eyes twinkled. “Would it have pleased you more if he died awake?”
It was not long before the slavegirls began to strip off each other’s clothes. Naruto watched them idly. They are not so beautiful as me, and a trained cow could dance better. The nobles did not care about that, though. They banged the table as the girls started to touch and kiss each other in pairs. Each pair of girls clung together as if they were drowning, afraid to let go, bouncing up and down with frantic moans. Their waxed, oiled bodies glistened gold in the lantern light, their long thick hair spilled down over their breasts like flowing streams. The girls kissed, tongues sucking, biting. Their hips swayed from side to side. Their ripe round breasts jiggled and slapped against each other. The drunk men shouted for more. Soon the girls were moaning so loud they had gone half hoarse, clutching their partner’s back so tight the painted nails raked blood. Naruto almost laughed. They scream like constipated geese, if a goose could fake a scream that is. These slaves aren’t lovers, they’re puppets in a mummer’s farce. The only real thing is the black cross branded on their foreheads.
Some were better at the farce than others, though. Even as the dinner guests talked and drank among themselves, they kept glancing at the pair of girls at the head of the table. One was a woman grown, with fiery red hair and a husky voice and huge breasts like melons. The other girl was younger than Naruto, doe-eyed and slim, with delicate fingers and breasts so tiny a man could hold them both in one hand. She leaned in to suck the husky woman’s dark, stiff nipples, pulling and biting until the woman screamed in pain. The husky woman in turn pushed her fingers between the girl’s legs, moving them in and out of her wet cunt, kneading it. The doe girl groaned, her body shivering with pleasure. Their sweet young bodies twined and snaked.
Namikaze Nyuka stood up. “Gods! I’ve just caught some sort of nasty disease!”
“What’s wrong?” the other drunkards cried out.
“Why, I do believe my cock’s gone hard as a mast. I can’t stand it! Slavegirls! Slavegirls! Pray, I beg you, can you cure me?” Nyuka laughed, tossing his fine straight golden hair. The poet gathered the two slavegirls to him, one to each arm. The husky woman grinded her breasts against the poet’s chest, the doe girl reached down a hand to grab the poet’s manhood. “Is that a yes? What’s that, girls? Yes, I do have a sword.” Nyuka led the slaves stumbling down the garden path, toward the manor house.
“Our poor diseased poet,” Rin laughed. “It’s hard to cure a chronic illness.”
Meanwhile, the talk of the other guests had drifted back to the topic of the night.
“I fear you underestimate Hagoromo, Lord Hiashi-san,” Misain Arashi was saying. “Thirteen years ago he fled across the sea a hunted man, reviled by all the world for massacring his own family on the Night of Blood. Yet now he is more powerful than he ever was before. He rules the entire south with an iron fist.”
“Hagoromo’s mother was a princess in the south,” pointed out Sougon Sawar. “The heir to the empire of Genoa, in fact. He was hardly without a preexisting claim.”
“Otsutsuki Kaguya gave up her right to the crown when she married Senju Sarutobi against the wishes of her clan.”
“Yes, and exiled across the sea never to return. A wayward princess is one thing, her dashing son in need another. They say that Hagoromo looked so much like his mother that even his own soldiers would call him Otsutsuki Hagoromo, by his mother’s clan name instead of his father’s. Bloodnames are as important in the south as they are here. The southerners would not deny a prince of the legendary Otsutsuki blood.”
Hiashi spat. “Pah! The Butcher uses the southerners like a pirate on a captured ship. So what? I’m not afraid of him!”
Arashi shook his head. “But what if the stories are true? The Sage of Six Paths has magic eyes, they say. He can make the five elements with his hands. He can heal the sick and raise the dead. They even say he has imprisoned the legendary ten-tailed demon… ”
“Ridiculous!” Hiashi sputtered. “Sawar, damn you, I’m drunk as piss, but I’m not stupid! Listen! The Butcher may have conquered the south, he may be some prophet over there, I don’t care. If he wants to come over here he must cross the Endless Sea. And in spite of all his so-called magic, the Butcher can’t fly. Yes?” For no apparent reason the Admiral started to beat his chest with his fists, like a gorilla. “I’ve crossed the Endless Sea, and I tell you, I thank the gods I am still alive. The storms take seven out of every ten ships. If the Butcher is so stupid as to sail with a fleet from the south, he’ll die. And if he doesn’t, I’ll meet him with the Scarlet Fleet and destroy him. The Butcher does not have a chance! No chance!”
“That may be,” Misain Arashi said, “but if so, then why is the Warlord so worried? Why would he recall the entire Scarlet Fleet to defend Sawara?”
“Why do you think?” Hiashi cried, too drunk to hold his tongue. “Our great Warlord is bloody afraid. Anyone can see that. Itachi-sama feels the danger in his bones, he told me. Hah! In that scar on his head, more like. Aye, I don’t blame him, of course. The Butcher killed his whole family during the Night of Blood. Terrible… terrible…”
Arashi nodded. His face was grave. “Yes, the Night of Blood. Even now I can scarce believe that Hagoromo could do such a thing. I was invited to the wedding, but Rin was sick and I had to take care of her. We all thought it was a day blessed by gods. The union of the Senju and Uchiha clans… dashing Hagoromo and beautiful Sakura. Who could have imagined it was a trap? The Butcher burned them all alive, his bride, his bride’s family, even his own father. You could see the flames consume the castle from miles away. Only Itachi-sama survived. He could have gone mad, but instead he became stronger, harder. Those of us who knew Itachi as a boy remember how soft he was, how weak. But after the Night of Blood he became a man. Itachi-sama was reborn that night.”
The monk Maito Gai unexpectedly popped his head out from between a slavegirl’s breasts. His face was beet red, his words were slurred, but his voice boomed as he chanted a phrase. It was not one that Naruto had ever heard before:
Before they are born,
Things cannot decline to be born;
Already dead,
They cannot refuse to go.
“What is that, Gai-san?” Hiashi demanded. “Some Zen sutra?”
The monk smiled stupidly, rubbing his shaved head. “Is it?” He blinked. “Oh! I heard it from a girl down by the port. I think. There’s more… something about Kindness At All Cost…”
There was a scream, strangled, cut short.
It came from the samurai guarding the garden path outside. He stumbled, clawing at his throat, blood running down his hands. A kunai was lodged in his windpipe. Shit! Naruto unsheathed his sword and rushed forward. Maito Gai screamed, covering his face. Naked slavegirls ran in all directions. Rin laughed. There was a general wild uproar.
And then he was there, in the pavilion. He stepped onto the roof somehow, walking on it upside down. The man wore black ninja garb, and a mask of black cloth covered his
lower face, exposing only glittering green eyes and spikes of silver hair. Around his
forehead was a white bandana with a gold symbol stitched in it, a spiraling eye within a six-sided wall. In each hand the man held a kunai.
The Kitsune, Naruto thought. So you’re here at last. Come then, and taste my blade.
But the man did not attack, and then samurai were rushing in from all sides, warned by the scream. Within moments the Kitsune was surrounded. For a long moment the two sides just stared at each other. Then Hyuuga Hiashi staggered to his feet, his head near level with the upside-down assassin. “Why hello, Demon Fox!” the Admiral said. “Come to enjoy some wine and women? Haha!”
The Kitsune spoke. It was a feral voice, harsh and guttural. “I have a message for you. All of you. It is from the Sage of Six Paths himself. He is coming. He is coming from across the sea to bring Kindness, and freedom, and justice. And all who stand in his way shall die. You are not the first, nor will you be the last.”
The assassin attacked. His movement was a whirling blur, as fast as Naruto had ever seen. But Naruto was fast as well, and he was at an advantage, since he was on the ground and the Kitsune was in the air. The slaveboy slid between the Kitsune’s kunai, right below him, and thrust his katana upwards as hard as he could. He exulted as the sword went straight into the Kitsune’s chest. But even as he did so the man burst apart, fading away into strands of smoke. Impossible! Was this magic?
Naruto spun, out of position, only to watch as the real Kitsune came from behind, on the other side of the room. His smoke body was just a decoy. And then in an instant the man was right above Admiral Hiashi, kneeling on the roof. Naruto noticed the ninja was not holding anything. But he did something with his hands and fingers, flashing them in some sort of pattern, fast as a blink.
“Katon!” the Kitsune yelled.
Fire exploded from the Demon Fox’s mouth.
The fireball hit Hiashi at point blank range. He did not even have time to scream. The force of the fire blew up the dinner table and a good portion of the pavilion. Fuck! Not bloody magic again! Naruto pushed through the sudden smoke and fire. Sawar had dodged the fireball, taking Rin and the monk with him, saving their lives. But what remained of Hyuuga Hiashi lay in the ruins of the burning room, charred to ash, along with several samurai and two naked women. All dead. Master will be very displeased.
The Kitsune still stood on the roof. He stared at Naruto, his eyes glittering, glowing in the flames like hot coals. He seemed to smile. “Oops,” he said. “I missed the rest of them. Well. There’s always next time.”
“Damn you!” Naruto shouted. “I’ll have your head for this, demon!”
The ninja laughed as he fled the burning pavilion. “Then catch me, slaveboy, if you can.”
Next: CHAPTER FOUR: “The Perfect Weapon”
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Birthright