a/n: Basically, Naruto in western format, with minor adjustments and tweaks as I saw fit, to make it my own. I'm not sure how far I'll go with this, but as this is just a prologue, I hope to at least follow the story to this most climactic interlude before completely giving up.
… I do hope people like this story, as I've begun something like an outline, which I haven't done for any fan fiction, ever, and that means I'm actually serious about a multi-chapter fic. I've also had a lot of fun sketching Naruto and the rest of the characters in appropriate attire for the time period.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kishimoto, of course. The crazy is all me.
For the first time in his life, Naruto had run full-on into a big, metaphorical wall. It was a thick one, with bricks and mortar all molded together into a perfectly hindering obstacle. There wasn't a clear path through it, and there weren't any back doors. It towered above him from every angle, condescending, omnipresent, and very frightening.
"You'll have to make up your mind, Sheriff."
He couldn't really think straight, at the moment. There were too many rules conflicting in his head; right and wrong didn't make as much sense when it was more than his own life at stake. Across the room stood the four villains he needed to take into custody, as dictated by the law. Kneeling in front of them, bound and bloody, was the deputy he must save out of the thickest loyalty a man was capable of. And somewhere out back, near the empty corral, was the outlaw he had to bring back home, just like he'd promised the young bride he so loved.
One of the four moved, pulling out a silver pistol and thrusting it against the deputy's temple. Gaara reacted about as much as if he was being threatened with a daffodil, and during a moment of hysteria, Naruto could barely keep from laughing at his partner's audacity. Didn't Gaara know he could die at any moment? Maybe what he'd said by the campfire was true.
"We don't have to hurt Mr. Sabaku any more than we already have, Sheriff." The one holding the gun stepped into a pool of light from a hole in the shitty roof, dragging Gaara with him. Naruto didn't wince at the split lip, the swollen patches of skin, or the twisted arm - even as his stomach churned. "You already know damn well why we're here, Sheriff."
Gaara lifted his head, blinking away the trickle of blood from his forehead, and held Naruto's gaze for a single, short second. Naruto didn't know whether to be relieved or start panicking, but he sure as hell wasn't about to take a time-out to sort through his feelings. The sheriff hooked one thumb in his pocket, and used the other to push his hat up off his forehead. He met the steely eyes of the asshole shoving a gun at his deputy, and grinned.
"Actually, I reckon I don't."