A/N: So, my very first Naruto fanfiction, and also my very first entry on this site. I. Am. Nervous. And excited. Before I say anything else, I'd like to give special mention to two fanfics: Not Sick by Ser Serendipity and Falling Up to Heaven by R.G. Waffles. I mention them for two reasons
1) They gave me courage to actually put pen to paper on this weird idea of mine.
2) They gave me courage to actually post the thing on this site.
Both of these stories are wild rides and I loved every minute of them.
Seriously, if it weren't for these fics, this would not be here. For better or worse.
Now then, after reading the summary you might be a little skeptical about this story. So I'm going to clear a few things up.
1) This is NOT YAOI.
2) Although most of this story will revolve around a very cute kitty, this fic will be seriously written. Meaning I will pay attention to character, grammar, spelling, and there will be a plot. A real plot.
3) Naruto himself will seem out of character at times. (All characters will at some point I guess) However all things have an explanation so I ask that you please have patience and stick with me. If everything's revealed all at once, the story will be pretty boring right?
4) I use bold and italics to stress words instead of normal italics. It's because I don't really see italics well. Whole sentences or paragraphs of italics are okay, but single words in a sentence are hard for me to pick up. I hope it's not too jarring to read.
Well, that's that. On with the story!
Prologue
Naruto Uzumaki should have never met Danzō Shimura.
And he would not have, not at so soon a time anyway, save for some…unavoidable circumstances.
This was Danzō's own realisation, as he stood outside the Hokage's belying plain wooden door, listening to a conversation that made his blood boil.
It was all information he already knew. The death of long-time foe of Konoha, Orochimaru, at the hands of his own student Uchiha Sasuke.
Ironic? Yes.
Poetically just? Most definitely.
When the news came, it was almost enough to make Danzō laugh. A cold, mirthless, mocking laugh, but a laugh. But a laugh that almost came is still nothing. So silence was Danzō's proper response to the news. A few hours of contemplative silence, in the cold, dank underbelly of Konoha's roots… Yes, this was news he already knew – had already anticipated.
For you see, Shimura Danzō, while called many things, was never once given the title of a stupid man. He had anticipated this long before, though were he to give an exact date, he would call to mind his nights of…negotiation…with Uchiha Itachi.
Danzō, once again, almost smiled. There was a comrade. There was a shinobi faultless in his devotion to the village. One who, when but a child, knew the true worth and ruthless price of peace, and was willing to pay it in his own family's blood. There was a man who Danzō…had once thought he could trust.
True, Itachi's plan was flawless, as well as woefully easy to put together once one had all the pieces. Or simply knew the true depths of Itachi's love.
On that night of blood, Itachi had slayed his own heart, his very soul, as he tormented, traumatised, and ultimately turned his beloved little brother on the path of revenge. True, he knew the Third Hokage, Danzō, the elders, or himself would never divulge the secret truth of that night, but Itachi was always a bit paranoid. As any good shinobi should be.
Itachi had given his brother a focus, a further protective measure against his finding the truth, as he turned Sasuke's vengeful gaze from the village onto himself. He prepared to take on Sasuke's hatred, to die by his hand, and in exchange, he would give him power; power to protect Konoha (to which an ignorant Sasuke would return) against the threats of Akatsuki, and further, against Uchiha Madara himself.
And of course, being hailed as a hero and restoring honour and prestige to the Uchiha name was a nice little bonus.
A flawless plan. Given the information that Itachi had at his disposal, Danzō himself could not have come up with one better. But there was a crucial piece that Itachi was missing, and it is this that finally moved Danzō to act.
Madara knew. And Itachi did not know it.
He might have a hunch. He might suspect. But he did not know.
But Danzō had seen, on that same blood-soaked night. After the disbandment (hmph, disbandment. Even with his nostrils filled with the stench of the freshly spilled blood of a massacre, Hiruzen was still so soft. The fool.) After the disbandment of Root at the word of Hiruzen, he had seen.
A plant. With jaws that opened and closed, and something disturbingly man-shaped in the centre – it dug, no phased out of the ground under the corpses of the clan, and returned to the earth, taking them with it.
No matter what he thought of Hiruzen, Danzō could not blame the man for missing it – it was only the slightest twitch in Shisui's freshly implanted Sharingan that made him turn his head in time.
What was it? As Danzō looked, it looked like nothing more than a plant, until it moved, and swallowed whole corpses between its jaws. And its chakra… Danzō could not describe it. It did not stay still long enough for him to do so. Instead, it continuously appeared and disappeared, keeping in rhythm with the creature's descent and ascent out of the ground. For its size, it was belyingly fast.
Danzō tracked it, only half listening to Hiruzen's ramblings by this point, Shisui's Sharingan straining to capture a clear picture of its chakra. And then, it stayed just a bit longer above ground, seemingly struggling with two Uchihas at once. A parent and child.
Danzō focused on it now, completely ignoring the Hokage, and finally saw its chakra pulse as, with an especially grotesque swallowing motion, the parent and child disappeared.
Though less exaggerated, he swallowed too. And left Hiruzen shortly after. This plant had to die. Its body would be autopsied for information, and then destroyed by Root's most thorough methods. This was his only solution for dealing with an entity that had the same type of chakra as that of his right arm. Hashirama's chakra.
He could not let it go free.
So he followed, with stealth that should have eluded a man of his age, but instead was almost on par with the Hokage's. The plant had stopped its collecting, and was now sliding through the earth; disturbing not a single blade of grass it travelled around a house that would no more know the joys of living occupants walking, talking, arguing and laughing through its halls.
Danzō followed it to the backyard – the lady of the house had kept a beautiful garden – where it stopped in the middle of a white sand walkway, the stones of the path not giving it discomfort in the least as it waited placidly on top of the somewhat sharp edges.
It waited. Danzō waited. It was silent. Danzō blinked, and the air moved. It twisted, with a whirring, almost mechanical noise that was wholly unnatural, out of a small black hole that soon spit out a swirling flush of black and red, and at the last moment…orange?
Danzō stared at the new arrival. He had swirled out of the black hole that turned out to be the single eye of an orange mask, which was painted with black smears too loose to be called stripes. A mess of shaggy black hair fell below his shoulders. Danzō steadied his breathing, even as his heartbeat rose. A Teleportation Jutsu? He had never seen one like it.
The moon re-emerged. It spilled its pale silver light onto the entire garden, painting a scene that would have moved Danzō if he was any bit of a romantic. He was not, and was a shinobi besides, so he only shifted slightly so as not to be caught in the sudden splay of light.
He looked at the two arrivals before him again, and where he had been about to curse the light, he was suddenly grateful for it. He could now see the peculiar man-shaped centre of the plant, and more importantly, could read its lips with his Sharingan.
And within a few seconds of conversation, he balked. It knew. It had been spying on him and Hiruzen that night, or perhaps it had overheard. Or it had been there from the very beginning. It did not matter. Danzō, with all the noise of a falling feather, slid a kunai from his left sleeve into his hand.
The masked figure turned its head so sharply that Danzō, who had not blinked, still missed the movement. And all of a sudden, he was staring into a crimson eye, made only brighter by the pale veil of moonlight. A single shard of killing intent, so cold, so potent, shot straight through his heart, and he faltered by where he was hidden in the shadow of the house's engawa. The whirring sound seemed to roar in his ears, and when he recovered and looked up, both the masked figure and the plant were gone.
Later, he would learn that not all the Uchiha who were killed that night were accounted for, notwithstanding the ones he himself had taken for his own uses.
Later, he would learn that none of them had an ability like what he had seen that night.
He would sit in his large, grey office with its soundproofed, steel enforced, and chakra strengthened walls, and he would think, and he would conclude that the Uchiha he saw that night, the third of the now almost-extinct clan, was Itachi's accomplice. For, no matter how skilled Itachi was, how impressive, even he could not have gone up against the entire Konoha police force on his own.
Years later, through Itachi's own reports sent from within Akatsuki, he would learn the identity of the mask. And mere minutes after that, he would conclude that Itachi had made a tragically huge oversight. One he intended to correct.
And so, it all led back to the Hokage's belyingly plain wooden door. Danzō listened, his cane shaking with fury, as they in excitement and years-old determination made plans to find Sasuke. By first finding Itachi.
No, that would not do.
Itachi would let Sasuke kill him. Itachi would give him power. Itachi would die. And then Madara would tell Sasuke the truth. And with Itachi dead, Konoha would be defenceless against his wrath.
This battle could not happen. Not yet. Danzō had absolutely no faith that these children would be able to find Itachi, let alone do anything once they did. If Tsunade honestly thought that they could capture him – she was more of a wispy-eyed indulgent fool than Hiruzen ever was.
It was time for him to make his presence known.
He opened the door. The first thing that filled his vision was a burst of yellow hair as bright as sunlight. The hair turned, and beneath it was a clueless blue gaze with a faint hint of surprise. But beyond that, shining bright as his hair, was hope and an unquenchable determination.
Danzō would slaughter those two things before this day was done.
Naruto Uzumaki should have never met Danzō Shimura.
A/N: All right, prologue done! It's just getting started. For those who read, thanks for taking the time. Whether you liked or hated it, let me know. Or if there's something off with the premise based on a miniscule detail that I missed, let me know too. I'm too far into this story to change it, but I'll tuck it away for future reference.
Also, I hope that this has convinced you that this story will be seriously written, and to come along with me for the ride.
PS The system separated a few words, like the 'o' from Danzo. I tried to fix all of them, but I apologize for any that I missed.
Edit (15/02/15): A few minute changes have been made. Nothing major, so no need to read it again if you've read it before. I fixed some more 'Danz o's' and hopefully got them all this time.
HaNaJaK out.