10 October, eight years into the second reign of Konoha's Sandaime Hokage
His name is Fuindao Hatake, and he is ANBU. One of the Hokage's guards, to be exact. Sure, there are the two chuunin guarding the door, but against any serious threat they are chopped liver. And maybe chopped other parts, too.
This is why it does not surprise him when a scroll comes rocketing out of nowhere and hits him right between the eyes before rolling off the bridge of his nose and dropping into one of his outstretched hands. He opens it with a small poof of chakra and begins to read. He feels the beginnings of a headache coming on as he finishes reading and pockets the scroll. And he was really hoping to go out drinking tonight, too.
Regardless of his plans, the mission comes first. So he steps out of the shadows and pulls his mask down over his face. A snarling dog covers his once-bland features and he ceases to become Fuindao Hatake, Konoha shinobi. He is now Dog, ANBU.
The buildings of Konoha's mercantile district pass by with blinding speed as he goes from rooftop to rooftop, moving as quickly as he can to his target. He does not bother with the body flicker technique: the amount of chakra he'd need to get where he's going would alert almost everyone in the area.
A small mob has already gathered at the target's apartment by the time he reaches it. He hopes to one of the many kami above that no one's gone inside. Ibiki will have his head and their screams if they have. A set of hand-seals later and he begins to move through the crowd, his chakra effectively suppressed. They move out of his way as he approaches, though whether this is because they sense something wrong with him or the fact that he's an ANBU, he doesn't know and doesn't care. He reaches the apartment building's entrance and pushes it open.
What he sees really doesn't surprise him. Graffiti covers the walls, almost all of it vulgar in some way or another. Here and there he spots long lines of black paint that can only be tally marks. He wonders idly if they're from the crowd outside or the boy within. Wherever they came from, the boy is not going to be around to see them much longer.
Ten steps beyond the door and he's standing in front of the boy's apartment, left hand tensed to draw one of his many kunai from its holster on his thigh. His right hand comes up and shoves the boy's apartment door open, the sound deafening in the almost-empty building.
His target is sitting with his back against the far wall, staring at the door. Dog strides inside, sandals impacting against the wood with each step. The boy looks up from behind blonde locks and his blue eyes lock with Dog's gray ones. Dog draws the kunai from the holster on his thigh, cocking it back over his shoulder as though he's about to deliver a mercy-kill to a dying opponent. In a way, maybe he is. The boy simply sighs and averts his eyes, waiting for the kunai to fall.
It never does.
After a few seconds, he looks back up to see the kunai extended toward him, handle first. "Uzumaki Naruto," Dog says, voice muffled behind his mask, "come with me if you want to live." Strangely, he feels like someone somewhere has said these lines before, but shakes it off as just after-effects of the bad sake he had last night. The boy stands, reaching for the kunai without a second thought. Dog lets him have it and allows his lips to curve ever-so-slightly into a smile.
Mission accomplished.