I don't own Naruto
There are things in this story that are going to be different from the anime/manga, but I don't think that they'll be too outside of the world of possibilities considering the change of circumstances.
Chapter 1
Yoshimichi Hara crept though the kitchen. He could hear faint sounds of footsteps in the adjacent dining room. With his heart racing, he paused at the door that led to the room and listened.
Yes, there it was, the footsteps. He could hear his target moving from the dining room out into the hallway and he quickly entered into the kitchen behind her. He saw a wisp of black lace and could smell the scent of rose oil in the air. The chase would be over soon. He would capture the target and bring her to justice.
Another noise. This time it was a giggle and he couldn't help but smirk. He loved playing ninja.
"Hime-sama." He called out.
She giggled again, running through the door into the family room. He followed after her, jowls flopping and out of breath from the sudden movement. This was the most exercise that he ever got.
She had already gone. He felt moisture pool on his brow, and wiped it off with the cuff of his black turtle neck. He had taken a triple dose of his erectile dysfunction medication a half an hour earlier, and the pills had dilated every blood vessel in his body. His normally pale face was nearly purple and sweat was pouring from him through every gland.
It was a good thing that none of his workers could see him now. He could hear their whispers now. Yoshimichi Hara one of the most powerful men in the Fire Country dressed completely in a tight black ninja outfit that did nothing to hide his repugnant body.
He had dispatched his wife to her mother's home with an entourage of servants for the weekend. He had their mansion to himself. Or, rather, to himself and Miyu, the seventeen-year-old maid that had just been hired. She had become the latest in a long line of Hara's obsessions. Their interactions were not illegal; just immoral, adulterous and simply disgusting.
One could not help, but feel nauseated by the sight of Yoshimishi Hara, a married man pushing seventy, with little to offer besides the money he acquired from his inheritance chasing after a sleek, blond, gorgeous young thing.
Nevertheless, this was his game. The girl, in this case Miyu, would don the outfit of his choosing – this time, an expensive shred of non-existent black lace – and race around the house running from the "ninja" perusing her.
Miyu drank from a top shelf sake bottle the whole time. The liquor was a lot stronger than she was use to and she was thankful for that. The stronger it was, the faster she got drunk and the quicker she could get his over with. It was the only way she could tolerate the feeling of Yoshimishi's grunting sweating body on top of her.
She glanced at the clock, if she allowed herself to be caught now, after about five minutes it would be over and she could hit the town with her friends and a large wallet lined with Yoshimichi's money.
"Oh no, a dead end" Miyu cried out dramatically while settling herself on the love seat.
She could hear his heavy steps and then a yelp of pain. She rolled her eyes. She knew he was naturally clumsy and hoped that he hadn't been drinking. He could barely perform sober, and with him drunk he would never be able to rise to the occasion, even with all the little blue pulls that he had consumed.
Miyu stared impatiently at the door and after 5 minutes she called out again, "Oh no, I hope that no one is here."
Another 10 minutes passed by before Miyu grew concerned. She leapt off the love seat and walked toward where she was certain she had heard him last. That was when she saw him. Face up on the floor, neck slashed from ear to ear and a pool of blood consuming him.
Miyu was able to let out a scream before her world went black.
What do you think? I've already written chap. 2 and it will be out shortly.