Attraction | By : gelfling Category: Naruto > General Views: 1846 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
gelfling8604@yahoo.com
//thoughts//
:: invading thoughts::
***
Well, that was naughty.
--Sean Connery, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen
Trust in Allah, but tie your camel.
--Moslem Proverb
Enter the Dragon.
--Common
***
There was an ancient, primeval tree, twisted and gnarled branched cut with deep grooves and gouges from the scythelifelife. Tiny pin-sized olive leaves just barely edged out for life at the top.
Sand had been artfully raked at the roots Feng Shui style, dull gravely sand, in lines and waves and spirals going around the outside then curling inside down and down and down—
Sasuke sat up in a jerk, his body sweating cold sheets, hair roughed up and sticking to his neck damply, eyes dilated and too wide, focused in on himself and seeing nothing. He breathed in hard, and was swaying a little.
After a few minutes, he realized he was in the room Nar—he’d been assigned, in his own bed. And he was alone. The sheets were soaked, and his clothes were piled in the corner by the closet, where he had thrown them.
Nodding shakily to himself he pulled in rapid breaths, raised his knees so he could lean against them, and dropped his head into his hands. Half an hour later, hucheuched his arms and legs with fingers and swore, before he got to take a cold shower.
In the corner of his room, dim light glinted off the mirror’s surface.
***
“What are they doing here?”
Naruto was called the Demon King for two main reasons: One, he told people to, and Two, he used very powerful chakra only demons could wield. The third unofficial reason was the people he employed. He had realized before hand that conquering a whole lot of work for one man, even with the partnership of Nine Tails. So he had to enlist help.
“Heh, find ‘em huh? Hope you didn’t run into them; Sasuke’s being an ass again, and Sakura’s got a big mouth.”
Gaara was, unquestionably, undeniably, absolutely, not a subordinate.
He wouldn’t take orders from anyone and didn’t give a fuck for respect, gratitude, or even logic. And yet, it was quietly understood, that even though Naruto was slighter than Gaara, he could, if he chose, make Gaara’s brain explode inside his skull with a thought and/or crush his vertebrae in one hand. It was just as quietly understood that Gaara could easily destroy Naruto’s carefully wrought fresh-off-the-grill empire.
It was Naruto the army followed. It was Gaara they feared and obeyed. If not for Gaara’s surly suspicious bastard-by-Nature disposition and usual homicidal tendencies, Naruto would have seriously suffered two major coup d'états. After everything, Naruto still had some problems hurting people who worked for him. Gaara was, as always, a pro at it.
“Why the hell are they here?” Gaara grated out.
Naruto winced, then turned around with his famous fox grin. This would not be simple to explain.
He inhaled deeply, “I have reasons,” Gaara remained unmoved, “and they’re good reasons. Great reasons, really.”
Naruto got a good long look of Gaara’s expression.
“I just—haven’t told you. Yet. But I’m going to,” Naruto glanced down at this fingers, studied his fingernails, and counted the days quick. Yep, it was that time again. He reached down quickly and snagged a bottle of rice wine. Neither Gaara nor Naruto were big drinkers, but it lent to the mood.
“In fact, let’s go talk about it now. My room.”
With a smile he turned and started walking, not bothering to check if Gaara was coming. It didn’t surprise him to find the other demon-holder waiting next to his bedroom door. He wasn’t sure how Gaara did it or why, but if it kept him happy Naruto wasn’t going to ask.
Naruto nodded a greeting, which Gaara ignored, laid his hand on the door handle, paused, pushed it open, and flopped onto the bed. Gaara openly dripped disdain and disinterestedly got two glass tumblers out while Naruto struggled with the bottle stopper.
It was obnoxious, Gaara repeatedly said, how Naruto behaved like he was some—normal child, with CDs littered on the desk next to detailed schematics of buildings and landscapes and notes, cheap porn and anime videos shoved under and around the bed that had a hundred different weapons shoved into it. The thick dark ancient stonewalls were covered with bright Playboy covers and rock singer posters.
Naruto said it helped him think. Gaara said it was pathetic.
Gaara’s own room was empty; he was hardly in there, and forbid Naruto from “decorating” it. It was a just a place to keep extra clothes to him; nothing more.
Naruto bounced up and twisted, the bottle open and generously filled both tumblers.
Control was a precarious thing.
Gaara would do most of what Naruto said because it usually made sense, and was something Gaara would enjoy, and had made very, very certain, that Naruto would never ever even think of using him lightly.
The The initial agreement had been simple: Gaara would be where and do what Naruto said in attacks, and would get plenty of money, people to kill, and most all he would get fear. Beyond that Naruto had no hold over him, nor Gaara over Naruto, and Gaara could be as erratic and free as he liked.
Gaara had first thought Naruto’s plan to be a stupidity that would be a fun time spent dicking and killing around in when Naruto had first come to him alone, and burning with ambition of world domination and anger.
Later, when things began to get serious, Gaara was far too intrigued to stop, and found himself strangely, wondrously intoxicated with the feelings of power and control and lust rushing through his body. Listening to Naruto and following someone else’s ideas was no longer a big problem.
And--besides Naruto--he held the highest standing in the impromptu army of exiled ninjas, odd thieves, ‘dead’ spies, and people who were—different. Supernaturally so.
The outcasts, the witches, the gypsies…the people who saw things a little more than they were supposed to, and didn’t quite walk and talk the way normal people did. The people who were different, and couldn’t live in one place for too long. The people who watched from the darkness, who got drunk in the allies like homeless bums out of rage and sorrow and guilt.
The people who never seemed to die. No matter how many times they were buried.
It was amazing how many were really out there. It was amazing how many came to Naruto.
What they were exactly, how they came to be, nobody was quite sure. If Naruto knew through Nine Tails, he said nothing helpful, not even to Gaara. But Naruto had an uncanny knack for finding them in their allies and sewers, in the dark places were no one went, and for reading them as if they were old friends and family, and later for finding their potential, training them and using them.
The combination of humanity and paranormal used with ‘them’ was one of the finest mergers Naruto and Nine Tails ever did.
Gaara wasn’t quite an equal partner, but he wasn’t just second-in-command. He was in no way a subordinate. He was somewhere in between, and that suited him fine.
Besides, Temari and Kankuro were here also, living rich and busy lives, and he almost never saw them. They were alive, they were near, they were being well treated and beyond that Gaara didn’t care too much.
He sneered as the smell of alcohol reached his nose on general principle; the smell actually didn’t bother him anymore. He stood, glowering, while Naruto sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed and fiddling with the drink in his hands.
It was a ma of of pride that Gaara would not speak until Naruto did.
“Sasuke and Sakura are both expert shinobi, and they’ve been the closest to screwing me up and figurie oue out. Sasuke especially, since he knows me so well and because of the Sharingan eye. It was only a matter of time before he identified the chakra as mine, and started tracing and predicting me by it. And that, would have been a serious pain in the ass. And Sakura’s the reason why our last mission in the Kebokki village fell apart on us.”
Two of their men had been captured, one other killed. Gaara frowned.
“I thought that was that Mist Chunnin—Iori Shigarei.”
That was what everyone had said, what had been officially reported back. Yet Gaara’s voice held a trace of doubt. Naruto was often senseless and insane, yet rarely dead-wrong.
“No, that was her, she was there. She pulled a similar trick when I was working with her. Impressed the hell outta me. She always did have a great understanding of energy.”
For a moment, Naruto’s façade dropped only to have another replace it. Homesickness, bitterness, nostalgia—and yet it was still all an act. Gaara was fairly sure of that. Naruto was more honest with him than anybody else, but Gaara still knew he wasn’t being told the whole truth. Naruto lay down on the bed staring at the ceiling, his glass balanced on his stomach.
“So point one: If they’re working with me, they can’t be out there working against me. Point two: It throws everybody else off-guard. I, heheh, invited them here on a diplomatic mission.”
Gaara twitched. He hadn’t heard a word of it before now.
“Ya know, discussing the terms of legitimacy, conquer stoppage, boundaries and laws and treaties and all sorts of boring stuff. I deal directly and only with Sasuke, he tells it to Sakura, and she writes it off to Leaf, they spread it around like good neighbors, and then they write her back.”
Gaara couldn’t hold it anymore, and didn’t give a damn how Naruto was going to take it. The words ran through his mind, and even as he opened his mouth to form them—And how the hell does that help us? Now they know our weaknesses, our faces, how the hell does that throw them—he closed his mouth. Because it did. But—
Naruto was watching him from the corner of his eye with a small grin on his face. Gaara glared, and steel could have been sharpened on his voice.
“It’s too risky. And this isn’t nearly my idea of an empire. I wanted more.”
Naruto smiled weakly, and shrugged, tucking one arm under his head.
“It’s risky, but not so much. Sasuke’s going to be getting all his information from me, and for as long as they think we’re getting ready to…I don’t know, to wash up, and become official and neighborly, they won’t be suspecting an attack. They’lill ill be on edge, yes, angry, yes, but the talkers have the spotlight, the do-ers have to wait…They’re worried. they don’t want to fight if they don’t have to.”
“It’s a scam.”
“Of course. Leaf’s considered to be the ‘leading force’” Naruto gave a good impression of a sci-fi narrator, deepening his voice dramatically and elongating the words, “against demons, thingies, and all other bad and evil things that go bump in the night ever since the 4th took care of Nine-Tails. It’s not official, but the other shinobi districts are watching them for guidance, letting the Konoha ninjas lead. Setting up diplomatic relations directly only backs up that idea. And when the Konoha village and its ninja are completely wiped off the map; everyone else will begin to fall. Domino effect.”
Was that Naruto speaking, or the ancient Nine-Tails? The words and gestures were Naruto, immature and casual, but the tone was very old, very professional.
Where others would feel fear, Gaara felt a small stab of envy, that Naruto could combine completely with his demon without losing himself.
“It’s a basic set-up, pumping up the hero to later take him out. And the talker I sent to the village really believes we’re rooting for peace, so they won’t know she’s lying, because she isn’t.”
“She?”
Gaara rubbed his thumb against the glass and relaxed into a bored slouch. Naruto shrugged again.
“Some people have trouble killing a girl. And I sent a guy with her too, covered in tattoos and earrings so he looks the piece. Fed him the same story, and he’s a little stronger and stupider than her.”
“And how do you expect to keep Sasuke and the girl from picking up bad details and sending them home? They’ll have some system on the messages.”
“Yeah, I know. We don’t touch the mail. We shouldn’t have to, and forgery is what they’ll be expecting. Sakura’s roped off to one section, and the people she’ll be in contact with are actors who know how to sweep and scrub, and they think they know more than they should, when they really know nothing. She’ll get the info she’s fishing for, but it’ll be junk. She’ll never see or meet me, and Sasuke’s going to be dealing exclusively with me, and he’s promised me not to tell her who I am. My name.”
“And he’s going to keep that promise because he’s a nice guy.”
Naruto sighed loudly, and sat up. Gaara was reliable in his unpredictable, depressingly pissed-off and homicidal way, something Naruto had come to value deeply in people, but sometimes Gaara was also damn irritating.
“Noo~oo…because I’ve vowed to cut all relations with them if he did. He doesn’t want that yet. And if he does tell, I’ll know,” Naruto snapped his fingers, “like that. Instantly. And things will become messy very quickly. Sasuke can’t lie to me, not if I’m paying attention. And they can’t know who I am, not yet.”
There was fire in Naruto’s voice, and Gaara’s skin crawled delightfully hearing it. He was also happy about the word “messy”.
“The Hokage might still have a trick up his sleeve dealing with the Kyubbi’s seal. They already suspect it’s me; they just haven’t found anything to back it up with. I don’t want to give them proof. They can’t have proof.”
Naruto turned quickly to lock eyes with Gaara. “I’d appreciate it if you kept out of sight as well, so they don’t know our strengths. I’ve already told the big boys the same.”
Gaara stared back openly, and pushed down the automatic rebellion that swelled, the small bit of flattery helping him a great deal. He blinked once. Naruto nodded, and turned his attention back to the wall.
And if Sasuke so much as gave Sakura a hint, Narwoulwould know by feeling her mind. He’d meant it when he said that all their conversations would remain private; he’d never said anything about watching how their minds shaped and colored and moved while they talked. He’d recognize his name or anything referred to him instantly.
“And, finally, point three is,” Naruto paused dramatically, and Gaara grimaced in disgust at the grin in Naruto’s voice, raising his drink to his lips before realizing that Naruto hadn’t even sipped his. He lowered his glass again.
“Reactions. I want to know how far I can go…and a lot of people, unfortunately, think like Sasuke and Sakura. By watching them, messing with them, I get a good idea on people’s expectations and where to go. I learn I how far I can push before the majority begins to bend, break, or get reely angry. And while Sasuke’s a bitch to read, he’s gotta stereotypical mindset, and Sakura will help me dilute and define everything out. And hat’hat’s pretty much it.”
Naruto turned to look at Gaara with a smile on, and a faint searching look in his pale blue eyes. Gaara belatedly realized that Naruto was trying to read him for his reactions to the plan. For his open first opinion.
Gaara nodded slightly, once.
“Great. Then, I guess…Cheers.”
Naruto held up his glass and Gaara stared at it blankly before he remembered procedure. Glass clinked. Naruto tipped his glass back, draining it in one chug, coughing and laughing brokenly after it was down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Rim at his lips, Gaara watched this display of honest cheer and cheap theatrics, before gently sipping his own drink, letting the taste roll over his tongue. Besides the general burning and smell, he couldn’t sense anything strange.
Naruto tossed his glass onto a pile of clothes, before flopping backwards on his bed, arms open.
“You know, I don’t like poisoners, Gaara-kun.”
Gaara glanced at Naruto over the lip of his glass.
“No, but you like to drug people.”
Naruto heaved a deep sigh and pouted. “Alcohol is a drug, why would I add to it? Why would I try to drug you?”
“You tell me.”
Naruto swore not-so-softly, before sticking his tongue out at Gaara and turning and curling to give him his back.
“And while you’re explaining that,” Gaara continued, “You can explain why you were having sex with Sasuke.”
There was a pause, and Naruto was motionless. You could hear the trap waiting to swing shut, for that one conspicuous twig to crack.
“I didn’t have sex with Sasuke.”
Gaara was losing patience and ground his teeth. Just because Naruto thought he could lie well didn’t mean he did.
“You were sucking his dick. That’s called oral sex, and yes it does count!” he continued, anticipating Naruto’s next question.
“Well you’re knowledgeable… I didn’t know you were watching though. Wasn’t paying attention. Did you happen to tape it?”
Gaara snorted in disgust and took a swig of his drink.
“No, didn’t cross my mind.”
“We were that good huh?”
“No, you were that boring. And why the hell did you do it, anyway?”
Naruto’s nonchalance had actually taken the sting from Gaara’s earlier attitude. At the very least he’d been expecting some shame, some guilt…but since the professional and very old tone was still in Naruto’s voice, he was somewhat comforted that it all hadn’t been a random act of passion, but rather one of precision.
Naruto shrugged.
“Dunno, it was fun…and Sasuke’s always been easy on the eyes for a cold bastard---And he’s such a straight arrow that this’ll haunt him forever, or at least give him nightmares. Keep him jumping, doubting himself, his sanity…that sort of thing.”
Naruto chuckled darkly in his throat.
“He’s never thought of the class dunce that way before, and now he’s gonna. Because the great Naruto Uzumaki has grown up, and old Sasuke-kun’s gonna a find he’s gotta whole new bag of tricks……Want to know anything else about my sex life, Gaara-kun? You know I’ll tell you anything.”
Naruto stretched out on his back so he could flutter his eyelashes and smile adoringly, looking every bit like a kitten who sees a ball of yarn.
Ga
Gaara snorted and twirled the glass between his fingers.
“Anything? Only lies—And I really don’t want to wash in any bleach today, no thanks…my brain’s dirty enough as it is…”
Naruto curled up again giving Gaara his back, and grinned unobserved. They both knew that the main reason for the alcohol was to get Gaara relaxed, which he found difficult to consciously do. Naruto, for all histernterness and blood thirst, was still a social guy, and looked mainly to Gaara for company now.
Gaara had proven that he trusted Naruto’s ideas and skills, if not his motives, and his comments and barbs had lost their sting to them over the years. If he was disgu or or angry, he told Naruto openly, occasionally sought his company, and demanded only his privacy.
They didn’t trust each other, not completely, but loneliness made people do crazy things. And if alcohol was needed to loosen his tongue and his control, the so be it. It wasn’t much of a price to pay, Gaara reflected, for the prize. But he still slept closest to the door.
“Scoot over,” Gaara commanded.
Naruto scowled at him darkly over his shoulder, before letting himself completely collapse on the bed and gripped it with his hands, snuggling deeper into the bed.
“No, I’m comfy.”
“Now!”
//Damn, he’s really drunk…//
“NO!—Hey, you can’t”
Naruto squeaked rather Naruto-ishly as he was tossed easily to the other edge of the king sized bed, struggled for balance as Gaara sat down and counted to two on which Naruto fell to the floor with a thud, and shot his hand to the side as Naruto came racing only to be floored and pinned with one arm.
Gaara had gotten stronger. Naruto, it seemed, had only grown smarter and louder as he swore and cursed.
He was eventually let up, still swearing and complaining loudly, while Gaara laid down on the edge closest to the door, hands on his stomach and completely ignoring Naruto. Gaara was kicked in the ankle as Naruto stood on the bed to go turn of the light, the bounced up and down as Naruto stomped his way bac the the bed.
Naruto had carefully taken off his shoes and red duster before going bac, an, and hung it on the back of his chair diligently. It was one of the few things he actually took care of openly. The act itself was a deliberate sign of trust.
Despite the informal ‘agreements’ Naruto and Gaara had, Gaara was still strong enough and willing to twist Naruto’s head straight off from his body. Both boys still, and probably always would, look younger than they really were. Thanks to the demon energy running through them, neither could scar easily, and the aging process was slowed down. Naruto had always been shorter than his classmates, and Gaara had always been very short for his family. Sasuke and even Sakura were easily a little taller than either of them, and looked far more mature.
Thanks to his blood lusty streak though, Gaara could easily tap stores of adrenalin, and was still physically stronger than Naruto. Without weapons, with only his chakra and mind tricks, getting close to Gaara was a real danger for Naruto. Naruto went to him now, grumbling and unarmed, while Gaara waited on his back.
With a grunt and a pout, Naruto collapsed next to him and poked his cheek hard with one finger, obtaining the same effect as throwing spit wads at a blast door.
Gaara continued to ignore him. There were very, very few things in life that Naruto hated worst than being ignored.
Na
Naruto sighed loudly, and cupped one hand over the side of Gaara’s face, and the other splayed over his heart. Both of Gaara’s hands, long, wide, and obviously strong, encircled both wrists like manacles. It was just a gesture; if Naruto really tried to hurt him now, as he was right now---there wouldn’t be too much he could do about it, besides possibly watch and be aware.
rutoruto settled, then spoke quietly into the dark, “I need you to relax a little more, it’s still too hard.”
With one warm finger on his temple and another on the hollow in front of his ear, Gaara closed his eyes…breathed in…waited…remembered Naruto talking about his plans, explaining…kicking him in the ankle…watching him drink…smiling…taking off his jacket…knowing…trusting…
--It was dark, and cold sharp bits stuck out from the oddest places, but he could feel one spot where it was getting softer, smoother, thinner—and very gently he got close to it, put himself near it, in it…and finally through it. He let the rest of himself expand like a cloud inside, looked around, then engulfed something that looked not unlike a dormant fireball. He let himself settle, and then watched to see if anything would happen next…--
Completely absorbed, Naruto didn’t hear Gaara inhale deeply in relief, alone yet not alone finally in his own mind.
Naruto and the Tanuki demon were still in there, but they weren’t in him, merely sharing space. It was like being in a small crowded quiet room with no one looking at you. All Gaara was really aware of, was the softness beneath him, the coolness above him, the warmth beside him, the flaxen still presence so intimately inside him, and the solitude in his mind.
Gaara had never ever considered any place or time safe. There was always danger everywhere, but some places and times were safer than others. And as he silently admitted with every night he came to Naruto’s bed for him and his bloodthirsty demon fox to work thmagimagic in his head over and over again, this was the safest place of all.
Naruto lay still as he watched his redheaded companion relax and dream the rare dream. Gaara could sleep real normal sleep like this safely, this was the only way Gaara could sleep safely, without his control being torn away from him while he slept, without his soul being attacked and devoured.
Of course, it meant to hto had to stay awake the whole time Gaara slept, which could last for days and days, forgoing food, hygiene, even work for the rare luxury of safe normal sleep, instead of the trick sleep he used in its place.
Naruto had originally asked Gaara to enter his mind for practice—It was a valuable skill that could only be used clumsily. Ninels hls had never needed or thought to perfect it or explore it, and Naruto had very little idea of what he was doing. To perfect it, he needed a willing subject to experiment on. And after much persuasion, flattery, promises, and even more flattery and a little threats, Gaara had finally allowed Naruto very very limited access to his mind, for only one hour and then never again.
It was quick; it was simple. Basically Naruto was only trying to figure out if this is where the images came in or was that the section that felt fear. Gaara wouldn’t let him do anything, just look and move around in a very tightly secured and guarded space.
But later, much later, after he had seen what Naruto could do, that he could actually make people hallucinate and feel th and and could actually make them smell and touch them…he saw that Naruto could lock people inside their minds, shove them into a coma. He could make them tell him anything, take little bits of their memories from their minds, make them forget something, he could tell them something and they wouldn’t just believe it they would know it…
Naruto could do nearly anything.
But it was hard, long, and very, very delicate work. Naruto first had to get to know the person, the mind, had to watch them day and night and talk to them and deal with them and learn about their families and who they trusted and who they hated and what they liked and who they loved and a million other things about them before he could really get into their heads psychically, before he could do anything at all. He had to know them, to really understand them, had to get to like them and love them a little before he could do anything.
It was far too easy to make people go crazy, to break the fragile walls that separated past from present and skills for driving the car from dreaming about bugs just because to dto didn’t see them. Didn’t know they were there. All he had to do was invade a mind, feel for the slight energy pulse, the chakra the mind emitted while it moved and imitate his own to match the other’s and then just slip into the energy pulse…into the mind…into everything and then just send a surge of his own power. And everything went boom.
And the emotional backwash of blood stricken terror and fear and shock and horror was enough to keep him sick and blind for days, made Nine Tails tremor and go silent. Wrenching himself out hurt. Hurting someone else inside them hurt him too. He didn’t do it too much.
And so the second time Naruto had asked Gaara, to please let him just look around in his mind once more, just to let him look at something specific that wouldn’t even take an hour, it would be super quick, for just a bit because it was real important so would he please…
And Gaara had agreed. ily.ily. And later asked Naruto more about his mind tricks. And got very vague and short answers. And had later asked to be shown something. Had asked to experience something. And had discovered that he could actually sleep.
He kept coming back.
Regularly. No more than once a week, but at least once a month. He kept on coming back.
Naruto sighed, then relaxed. He’d have to cut this nap short for Sasuke’s sake.
Gaara didn’t move at all.
***
Sakura pulled the tie from her hair and placed it on the dresser while she pulled her fingers through her hair, absently picking her scrunchie back up and tying her pale pink hair up again as she walked to the desk.
Sakura’s room was everything she had been expecting. It was medium size with European styling: A four poster bed with tasseled canopy, thick Persian rugs thrown over the stone floor, a fireplace near the foot of the bed, and tall white French windows with heavy brocade curtains. Velvet, silk, brocade, red, and a lot of gold tassel and embroidery seemed to dominate everything. It was gaudy and loud and tasteless and obnoxious and everything impractical.
She had completely blanched and near fainted whee sae saw it. Inner Sakura had loved it.
In the same way people love small ugly rat-like dogs with x’s and z’s in their names and neon pink glossy figurines of bears in tutus, the room attracted her with its sheer unique gaudiness. Everything would later get on her nerves, she knew, but now it was just—loud in a very still place.
She’d seen people, managed to talk to some of them, but they all seemed a little shy and nervous around her, and something about them…wasn’t quite right. It was tricky to put her finger on, but the way they moved, the way they talked like a stutter or whisper, and something about their eyes too old or too bright.
The only clear abnormality that she had really identified was one girl who swept had mismatched eyes, blue and green which often looked in different directions, and that was hardly note-worthy. She was very polite, stuttered a little, and remi Sak Sakura ultimately of Hinata.
She was the only one Sakura had actually managed to talk to, mostly because the poor girl stuttered so hard she couldn’t say good-bye quickly enough; long enough for Sakura to get a promise to be shown the gardens later and the girl’s name: Anzu*.
By wandering down the solid stone dark corridors as conspicuously as she could, she found there was limited space for her to be in, otherwise men playing cards with scars on their arms and rough impolite accents in their voices would politely lead her back.
Sasuke was her sole constant and interaction in the mornings, when they planned to meet outside and talk.
She’d been slightly aghast with the demands—“ How much?!”--, the ‘services’ offered—“You’re not serious? Is that possible?”--, yet had been slightly relieved. For them to be in such desperate need of food and supplies meant that the Demon King had pushed his forces to the limit, and if he didn’t pay up very quickly he’d have a revolt on his hands he couldn’t control.
His kingdom would dissolve, and the darkness would take back it’s own.
And everything would…Maybe everything could go back to normal again. Maybe. Just maybe.
It had taken some prodding and evasive and direct action before Sasuke informed her that the name of the Demon King…was private. As was his identity. Sakura hadn’t accepted this fact neatly.
“The answer is no.”
“No one’s going to deal with a man they don’t know! That’s not how things work, Sasuke! Did he even tell you?”
“They don’t have a choice…We’re dealing. They’re not, they don’t matter.”
“But you do know his name right?” //Because if something goes wrong, you’re going to be the only contact we have to him.//
Sasuke hesitated, then answered. “Yeah. I do. He’s not someone we should trust. He’s more complicated than he lets on, but not as…Stable, I think, rational as earlier believed. Don’t trust anyone here, but I doubt we’e hue hurt.”
A sane, logical man was far more dangerous with a sword than an insane one, Sakura knew. At least the crazy man might cut off his own fingers, but the sane man wouldn’t give you time to blink.
“You don’t think it’s a trap? He might try to kill us, or take us hostage if things don’t go well.”
This was a definite problem that had been bothering her. The Stone Country landscape was neurotically simple—It was bare mountains in every direction, bu wou would be difficult for someone not familiar with the landscape to move out quickly. The home team had the advantage of terrain. The Demon King’s castle wasn’t built on a mountain cliff, it was built in the cliff, using the living rock as a foundation and then adding the outposts and doors. As it was, they were both standing on an ancient upswept cliff top thad bad been roughly converted into a terrace just by adding a knee-high railing.
Who knew how many tunnels and secret pathways were in the mountains that connected directly to the castle? She couldn’t openly explore very far, so it would take time before she knew.
Her memory of the building’s entrance was shaky, since she’d only gone through once and wasn’t allowed to revisit; if she had to escape she could break through the window and run, but what could Sasuke do?
“He might…but I doubt it. He’s not as powerful as we thought. I don’t think he’s the real force behind everything, I think he’s just a front man.”
“How can you be so sure? Have you tried,” Sakura paused, and thought of a good way to word it. Sasuke seemed confident of their privacy, but she wasn’t. “Tried really looking at him?” //With the Sharingan, for whatever it’ll tell you?//
Sasuke had looked directly into her eyes, making sure she knew his answer.
“No,” he lied. “Everything’s been rushed, but I don’t think it’s going to be that simple. Everything’s still at the beginning stage. We have time.”
The wind whipped through her hair briskly; it was whisperingly thunderous, and she could barely hear Sasuke’s answers even though they were standing so close together, the area empty of people and overhangs. She stfeltfelt they were being watched. It was too empty. It was conspicuously, obnoxiously empty.
Sasuke had his arms crossed as he stared out over nothing. Finally, Sakura spoke her mind.
“I don’t like it. There’s too much mystery, too much we don’t know…This feels funny. Almost like a trap…But what are they waiting f And And why bother with us?”
She expected Sasuke to shrug her off; after all this time, he still did that occasionally. And it seemed like he felt pretty secure here, somehow, so secure it almost made her feel she was being needlessly paranoid.
So it surprised her when he said, “I know.”
She stole a glaat hat him, to see his eyes were actually a little bit organic, and troubled. Things were real bad, when Sasuke was troubled and showed it. This time he broke the silence.
“How goes it?”
“Pretty good, kind of slow. Not too many, just minimal maintenance and guards to keep me in line.”
“They’ve hurt you?”
“No,” Sakura said quickly, alarmed at his tone, “No they just---watch me. And nod at everything I say. They haven’t touched me.”
Sasuke visibly settled down, and took his eyes off her. Sakura continued quietly.
“They’re few, nervous, and very quiet. They think I’m a spy.”
“Uniforms?”
“No, plainclothes, all around. No noticeable badges, no apparent rank, but there’s some type of order. They’d have to know each other by face, by name, to keep spies from getting in. I think I’ve made a friend. They leave me alone all day.”
//They don’t physically watch me. They assume I can only get out the conventional way, or I can’t sneak around. Infiltrating is not a problem. They don’t know what I can do, and if they do then they don’t know all of it.//
Sakura had only packed long dresses and skirts with dress shoes with raised heels to back that image up. It was very hard to run or crawl around wearing a skirt that didn’t let you move around too much, and everyone who saw her knew that. The shoes made tapping noises when she walked, so anyone watching her wouldn’t have to work very hard.
Sasuke nodded.
“All right. I’ll meet you here tomorrow.”
At her desk, Sakura put everything into writing.
There was a code, but it didn’t do with writing backwards or passwords. That sort of thing could be ned ned after a while, and mimicked. There were code words in the writing, but that was only there because it was expected. Without it, people would begin to look for the other, real keys.
There were only three actual checks on the messages. There was her handwriting, which was unique to her and very difficult to mimic absolutely; that would take months without a real professional**. And twined in her fingers was a strand of hair she had picked up earlier that would go inside the envelope itself; that wasn’t difficult to get, but it was a very small detail.
The third check was the ink itself, chemically created in Konoha that would react like ordinary ink to infrared, ultraviolet, metal detectors and jutsu, but if chemically tested would reveal that there was a small, very small trace of a chemical that didn’t need to be in the ink at all. It didn’t affect the ink in any way, but if the ink were tested it would show that it had a harmless, unnecessary rider in it.
And the Hokage had decided that if the scrutiny got anymore thorough, then there wasn’t any point in trusting the mail anyway.
Clicking her pen, Sakura began to write.
***
A/N:
*Got the name from the Yugi Oh! Manga, but the character isn’t based on Anzu. I just liked way the name sounded; I think it’s pretty. I like names that start with A.
**I read a story once where this guy really goes in depth about how you can tell a guy’s a serial killer just by looking at their handwriting. There was a lot of facts, so it made me a believer that it is indeed tough work. Also, I cannot forge a signature to save my life. I cannot do it. Niot,iot, anywhere, is that dumb or blind.
For the people who want to see Iruka and Naruto as buddies again…I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise too much because I actually hadn’t planned on that happening, but I’ll see what I can do.
How was Sakura? In character? It’s not often I give girls a big role in my fanfics, hence concern.
I think I like the girls in Naruto; I tend to hate women in anime because they’re all the standard cutesy-bitchy model, cutesy-helpless, or cutesy-nice model. I get tired of that. I really admire the creation of Hinata because she’s neither, and Kagome from Inuyasha as well.
For the next chapter: Blood! Yay! :D
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