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Birthright	By : sadfascist Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3579 -:- 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.

Chapter List
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BIRTHRIGHT
CHAPTER FOUR: “The Perfect Weapon”
Naruto chased the Demon Fox across the rooftops of Sawara.
The boy was not the only hunter. Samurai flooded in from all sides, trying to encircle the Kitsune. The net was closing quickly. At this rate the Kitsune would not even make it out of the High District before he had been caught. No, too easy, the boy thought. The fox must have a foxhole. But where was it?
Naruto pushed his speed to the limit. He was only yards behind the fleeing ninja, close enough he could hear the ninja’s feet clattering on the clay roof tiles as they ran, hear his ragged breath. “It seems something is wrong with your heart, Demon Fox,” the boy called. “I can hear it pounding from back here.”
The ninja twisted his head around, green eyes flashing. “It means I’m still alive. What’s wrong with that?”
The Kitsune turned direction, running east toward the river. A wall of samurai was already there, blocking the way. He means to go through them, Naruto realized. But how? Would he use the fire magic spell again? Naruto’s mind raced through the possibilities. The last time the man had cast the spell, he had used a sequence of hand gestures to do it. Perhaps the ninja needed them for the magic to work. If so, while he’s waving his hands around I’ll leap from behind and cut off his head.
Instead the ninja threw a kunai; it struck at the feet of the samurai blockade. A little paper tag was attached to the handle. A pink-haired samurai laughed. “Aiming for the roof will do you no good, Demon Fox!” he shouted.
The paper tag exploded
Only a smoking hole remained to mark the spot where the pink-haired samurai had stood. A second later the rest of the roof caved in, swallowing any nearby samurai in a cloud of dust and wood chips. Naruto skidded to a stop, stunned. An exploding piece of paper? Where was the Kitsune? There. He was already on the other side, beyond the blockade, running out of the High District, and into the low city. Shit!
The Kitsune looked back as he ran, his silver hair whipping in the wind. He laughed. “Do you still hear my heart, slaveboy?”
“I heard enough already,” Naruto gave back, rather feebly.
The boy began the hunt again, now further behind. The ninja veered south. At this angle he would soon reach the heart of the Merchant District, the riverbank where Sawara Bridge intersected Market Street. The slave markets. Wide open squares, with few hiding places, and strongly guarded. It was a perfect chance to corner the ninja…
No, Naruto realized. Something’s wrong. That’s what he did before, and he escaped. If Kakashi’s old samurai had told him true, the Kitsune they caught in Market Street had turned to magic smoke. A decoy body.
Could it be? Had the man done the same thing this time? But when had he used his hands to cast the spell? Naruto would have seen it. No. The exploding paper tag, the cloud of smoke. The Kitsune could have done it then. If so, then Naruto was running in the wrong direction. Not south, north. He could not be sure he was right, but it was a risk he had to take.
Naruto turned north. He had a hunch as to where the real Kitsune might be heading. East of the High District, across the river, was the capital’s Pleasure District, otherwise known as Sin City. It was a nest of criminals and traitors and outcasts, the scum of Sawara. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? The Demon Fox would fit right in.
The slaveboy did not guess wrong. Soon he spotted a small, black-clothed figure in the distance. The Kitsune was not running nearly as fast as he had been before. He’s let his guard down. At once Naruto slid down to street level to conceal his pursuit, running down the narrow, winding lanes, pushing through the night crowds heading to Sin City. The Kitsune had just enough headway on him to cross the river, but after that the bridges converged at the Street of Beggars, the heart of the Pleasure District. He would intercept the assassin there.
The sounds of the city, subdued and near silent west of the river, began to roar. Song and laughter drifted from kabuki theaters. Half-naked whores catcalled from brothel windows. Gaggles of lord’s wives haggled over the latest fashions in the streets. In the midst of all this noise Naruto could barely hear anything else, but then he did. The sound of footsteps on rooftop tiles.
The Kitsune was right above him. I found the foxhole, and now it’s time to smoke the fox out. Gathering himself, Naruto braced himself on a pillar and leapt up to the roof with one kick. The ninja was there, in front of him, his silver hair shining in the light of the crescent moon, his green eyes wide with shock.
I’ve got you, you little magic coward ninja demon bitch. Naruto swung his katana as hard as he could.
The Demon Fox dodged at the last second, throwing himself backward, rolling on the clay tiles into a crouch. The slash had been so close it cut off a lock of his silver hair, which drifted to the street below.
“You’re persistent, slaveboy,” the Demon Fox growled in that feral voice. “Did you miss the sound of my heart?”
“No, I was concerned for your stomach,” Naruto said. “You’ve been running so hard, you must be hungry. Here, have a taste of this.”
Naruto attacked. He drove at the man, bringing his sword above his head in a swift deadly arc. The Kitsune blocked the slash with his two kunai. Steel meet steel with a ringing, bone-jarring clang. But Naruto pressed the attack, the blade like lightning in his hands, and the man was forced to fall back. The slave rained steel upon the ninja, blow after blow. No sooner did the Kitsune turn one cut than the next was upon him.
Naruto’s blood was singing. This was what he was meant for; he never felt so alive as when he was fighting, with death balanced on every stroke. This is what his master had trained him for. He was a weapon, his master’s weapon. I am his right arm. I am the instrument of my master’s will. No demon cannot withstand me. The steel blades kissed and sprang apart and kissed again.
“You’re strong,” the Kitsune said at last, chest heaving. “Almost as strong as me.”
“Oh, a poor choice of last words. I’ll be sure to carve them on your gravestone.”
Naruto whirled his blade, striking, hacking, a dance of steel. The Kitsune was at a disadvantage. He had the same build and height as Naruto, but Naruto’s katana had a reach far greater than the ninja’s daggers. That’s what you get for sneaking around stabbing people at night instead of carrying a real weapon. The slaveboy could attack as he pleased, but the ninja had no way to counter. It was all he could do to parry and fall back. High, low, overhand, Naruto rained down death upon him. Left, right, backslash, swinging so hard that sparks flew when the weapons came together, upswing, thrust, overhand, always attacking, moving into the enemy, step and slide, strike and step, step and strike, strike and leap, hacking, slashing, faster, faster, faster…
Naruto could not have said how long he pressed the attack. It might have been minutes or it might have been hours; time slept when swords woke. He drove the Kitsune back, across a brothel roof, then across it to the next roof, on and on, pushing him across the rooftops of Sin City. A dozen times Naruto thought the man was done, that the next cut would finish him, but somehow the ninja slipped out from the killing stroke. The dance went on. Steel rang, steel sang, steel screamed and sparked and scraped, and Naruto grunted with effort at every crash.
It can’t go on like this. Naruto’s sword seemed to grow heavier with each passing cut. He could not attack forever, and he dared not rest. If he gave the ninja an opening, any opening, the Kitsune’s hands would be free to use magic, and then Naruto would be finished. He needed to end it, but how?
Then he saw the way. He had the Demon Fox pinned against a roof corner, with walls on either side. The man had no room to maneuver. Naruto pretended to fall, but he twisted the fall into a diving lunge, a lightning thrust with all his weight behind it. The momentum took the point of his sword past the man’s parry. But the ninja dodged again, somehow, sidestepping the thrust. At once the Kitsune had closed the distance between them, close enough he could reach out his arm and touch the boy’s cheek.
Naruto saw too late his mistake. Shit! He’s inside my guard. At this range his katana was useless, but the ninja’s kunai were not. The Kitsune slashed upwards, at Naruto’s throat. Naruto dropped his sword, using the free hand to grab at the ninja’s arm. The motion was clumsy, and he lost his balance, falling hard to the tiled roof, but it was just enough to save his life. Naruto rolled backwards into a crouch, now barehanded. Fuck!
The Kitsune laughed. “Like I said… almost as strong. ‘Till next time, slaveboy.”
The ninja hopped off the roof into the street. “Kitsune!” Naruto yelled. The boy tried to follow, sword be damned, but he had just enough sense to notice two kunai stuck into the roof’s edge. Paper tags were attached to the handles, scrawled with strange markings. And the markings… burned…
Naruto flung himself hard to the side. The tags exploded, taking half the roof with it. The boy lay on his stomach, coughing and stunned. I hate magic. Through the smoke he could see dimly down through the hole in the roof. Several whores had been killed by falling debris, and the rest were running around screaming in various states of undress. At least it didn’t collapse this time.
When he got back to his feet, the Demon Fox was gone.
It was a long way back to the palace. It was almost on the other side of the city, down the Street of Beggars, across the Haven River, through the Samurai District, and up the steep, towering hill that led to the high city. Naruto’s muscles ached as he climbed the hill, as he trudged up the endless stone stairs that flanked the palace entrance. All of sudden he felt very tired. Master will be very displeased, he thought again.
When the slaveboy came to the throne room at last, it was half past midnight. Throngs of petty functionaries crowded into the chamber, staring at Naruto when he walked in. They knew what had happened, of course, but Naruto could not care less for those bleating sheep. He had eyes only for the man who sat cross-legged on the throne at the far end, beneath a great mural of the ancient kings of old, the Birthright Emperors who had ruled the land for a thousand years from this place.
Now it was Uchiha Itachi, Warlord of the Blood Country, who ruled. His master was dressed in robes of the finest silken gold, but his head was bowed and his face all in shadow, as if hid by a black mask. He sat motionless as a statue as Naruto approached. Not a good sign. That means he’s angry.
Naruto kneeled on all fours, and bowed his head to the ground. “Master. I failed you. Admiral Hyuuga Hiashi-dono is dead, and the Kitsune is escaped. He is far more dangerous than we knew. I—”
His master held up a hand. “Leave us,” he said. The functionaries hurried to obey, scurrying like roaches before the sun. In seconds the Warlord and his slaveboy were alone.
The boy swallowed, nervously. “Master, please, let me explain—”
Itachi interrupted him. “Come here, Naruto.” The boy fell silent and went to him. The man gestured with his hand to his lap. The slave curled up on it, laying his head on the master’s shoulder. Lord Itachi’s thick hair hung down like a silver glacier, brushing against the boy’s cheek, and his huge arms swallowed the boy’s slender body. This was the posture his master liked best when they were together, and Naruto reveled in the safe, strong embrace. For a moment he forgot his fear.
His master stroked the boy’s face softly. Naruto closed his eyes. “Little Naruto,” his master whispered. “My dear little slave. I gave you a mission.”
“I know, Master. I failed. But it wasn’t my fault. The Kitsune can use some sort of magic. I saw it myself—create illusions of his body, spit fire from his mouth. Master, no one can defeat him alone. And Lord Hiashi-dono, I warned him—”
Itachi slipped his hand into Naruto’s kimono. Naruto felt the strong, rough hand slide slowly down his bare chest and belly, then between his thighs. Naruto’s dick was hard, and the man stroked it through the loincloth. “Naruto. You seem to forget your place. Do you remember who you are?”
“I am your tool, Master. I live only to serve you.”
“Yes. You are my weapon. The perfect weapon. Whatever I will, you obey without question. Whatever I ask of you, you accomplish. But it seems my weapon… it is rusty…” Itachi slipped his hand under the loincloth and grabbed the boy’s cock. The hand enclosed it all, tight as a vise. “And what, little Naruto, must be done to a rusty weapon?”
Naruto gasped as Itachi squeezed his penis. The rust must be cleansed. “Please, Master. It wasn’t my fault.” He’s going to punish me. I can feel it. It will be bad this time, very bad.
Itachi squeezed harder. “Then why is my Admiral dead?”
The slaveboy cried out in pain as the master wrung his dick. Tears leaked from his eyes. “It’s really Hiashi’s fault anyway! If he listened to me—” Naruto trailed off. He knew as he said it that he had made a mistake. He opened his eyes to stare into his master’s face, at those dark merciless eyes, and that terrible burned scar. “Master, I didn’t… I meant…”
Uchiha Itachi’s voice was colder than ice. “I heard what you said. It seems I have indulged you too much. You do not act as a slave should. Or have you forgotten?”
“Please, Master—”
Suddenly the Warlord leaped to his feet, and took his slave with him, holding the boy in the air by his erect cock. Naruto screamed, the pressure on his dick so great it seemed about to snap. The Warlord flung him. The boy went through the mural and smashed on the wood pillar behind it, cracking it in two. He lay dazed in the rubble. His ribs were cracked, and he coughed blood.
His master stood over him. His face was a mask, so bloodless that it might have been sculpted from snow. “Hyuuga Hiashi is the leader of one of the great noble clans. You are a slave. Do you presume to give advice to him?” Itachi kicked his slave in the gut. It was like being hit with an iron hammer. The boy could only curl up into a ball, crying in pain. “Will you give advice to me next?”
“Never, Master! Never!”
“You are a slave. And that is all you are. Never forget it.”
“Master, I failed you. I’m sorry!” I failed him. I’m his tool and I failed. All my fault. All my fault…
“As you should be. My Admiral is dead. I am displeased, little Naruto.” Itachi beat him viciously, over and over again, like a stray dog. “I am very, very displeased…”
Naruto screamed. His vision swam with purple spots. He felt his ribs break, his guts rupture. The last time his master had beat him this badly was years ago. His master was so angry. He’s going to kill me. No, he could not die yet. He had to live, his mission was not done. I must protect Master. He had tried to warn him. The Kitsune always attacks a bigger target than the last. Hyuuga Hiashi was dead and there was only one person in the country who was more important. You, Master. The Demon Fox will come for you next.
Next: CHAPTER FIVE: “Brand of Kindness”
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Birthright