Author's Note: So I noticed something. There is an extremely small number of stories revolving around the Tailed Beasts, even though there are great possibilities for these characters.

I had recently watched the American Film The Expendables 2, and it gave me the idea of humanizing the Tailed beasts and giving them a story of their own. Their personalities (except for 2 or three) are largely unexplored, giving me the creative freedom to experiment with what works and what doesn't. There will be (trashy) humor galore in this story, as it will mainly be used as a break from my first story, Entwined by Love, Enslaved by Fate.

I hope you like it!

(Oct. 31 Note: This was originally in a different section, but as of right now I am conflicted who the other main character is, so it has been changed to NaruHina since they are the focus of the next two chapters.)

Chapter 1 - Down on their Luck

Tokyo was considered to be one of the safest cities you could hope to live in, by both its citizens as well as by travelers and tourists. Crime was carefully monitored at all times by the police, and only the most heinous acts slipped through their watch, and spilled out into the streets of the metropolis. Still, not every district could be held to the same standards, and as a result, some of the neighborhoods seemed less than friendly.

In one of these rougher areas of the city stood a house. Unassuming at first, it towered over its neighbors, as it was far larger than any of the other homes in the area, even the buildings that held entire apartment complexes. Surely someone of wealth lived here, a diamond in the rough?

Nope.

"WILL SOMEBODY TURN THAT GODDAMNED MUSIC OFF?" someone from behind the morning newspaper shouted in the kitchen. He flapped the pages angrily as he waited for his request to be granted, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, but the music only got louder. Someone wanted to piss him off. And oh, it was working.

Kurama slapped the paper on the table, exhaling a massive plume of smoke from his cigar. It was wayyyy to early for this shit. He glanced at the clock; it read 11:45.

Yep…way too early.

Kurama stomped over to the staircase. "I SAID TURN THAT MUSIC OFF! Some of us are trying to do something productive down here!"

"Sure you are, asshole!" someone called down from the second floor. "There's no way you're just doing the crossword or some stupid shit like that!" This was followed by a farting sound, several in fact.

Kurama scowled. He had burned through the rest of his cigar in his anger, and spat the useless stub into the trashcan, not even bothering to check if it set the overflowing trash on fire before he lit up a new one. If they wanted to blast that noise, they could just deal with the scent of smoke everywhere.

"You know you're just going to die even quicker if you keep that pace up," he heard a voice from behind him say.

Kurama snickered. "If I was going to die, I would have a long time ago. Someone up there's watching out for me, I tell ya."

Matatabi rolled her eyes. If there was in fact someone watching over them like he said, it wasn't someone they wanted to. She meandered over to the table where Kurama was chomping down on his smoke, trying to figure out a 10 letter word for something that was used as a topping for ramen. There were several large bags in her arms, and she plopped them down on top of Kurama's distraction.

"Thanks for your help with the groceries." Matatabi said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Meh, you had it under control. I know what you get like when someone tries to pull the 'gender superiority' on you, so no thanks."

Matatabi snorted, but silently agreed with him. She'll be damned if she was going to let any of these guys think they can boss her around.

She was a proud, attractive woman in her mid-thirties, though by her own admission she didn't look a day over 24. It was both a blessing and a curse, though the curse applied more to the seedy scumbags who attempted to hit on her, usually ending up with a few broken ribs and a bloody nose.

That was if they were lucky, by the way.

A bright blue scarf kept her untamed blonde hair from getting in her eyes, wrapping it in a tight ponytail that hung over her left shoulder. Fashion never really appealed to her, so she preferred to wear whatever was comfortable instead of what was popular. For today, it was a bright pink tank top with grey sweatpants. Not the most elegant choice, but it wasn't like anyone was going to try and say something about it.

"You sure you got enough milk?" Kurama joked, eyeing the numerous gallons she had set down underneath the table. "I swear, you're addicted to that stuff, just like that pest of yours."

"Yugito is not a pest," Matatabi protested, smacking Kurama over the head with a frozen chunk of beef. "And besides, it's good for your health." She made a whistling sound, and 'Yugito' hurried through a hole in the wall, revealing herself to be a small tabby cat. She meowed in appreciation for the treat, and hungrily lapped up the milk Matatabi had set down for her.

Kurama rubbed the sore spot on his head, exhaling his smoke through his nose and staring at the mangy feline, scowling. He was around the same age as Matatabi, though after a few drinks, he usually forgot what that number was. Built like a tank, he'd be in the same boat as his companion if he didn't always look like he was in a bad mood, which he was. It's not that he was a hateful person; it's just that he hated a lot of things.

"I hate it when you don't tell me when you're going out." He spat on the floor, pushing the cigar butt under the rug before Matatabi could see. "You never get what I want, you know."

"You hardly eat anything to begin with, numbskull. You're lucky I'm such a good cook, otherwise you'd probably starve."

Kurama smirked. "The only reason you're a good cook around here is because I get everyone liquored up before dinnertime. Heh, and you wonder why that cat of yours disappears every night at the same time." He started laughing to himself, but noticed Matatabi brandishing a kitchen knife, and promptly shut up.

"Any of the others up yet?" she asked. The knife she was holding was being used to slice through some fresh oranges, and to shoo away Yugito whenever she tried to nick one of them.

"What do you think?" Kurama snorted. "I'll give you one guess as to who's up and who isn't."

Matatabi didn't seem to be in the mood to play that game, and instead wandered over the staircase, cupping her hands over her mouth.

"Hey! Get your asses up, I'm makin' breakfast!" she called up into the higher floors. The music that had been blaring the entire time suddenly shut off, and she could hear heavy footsteps heading for the stairs. She heard someone burp rather loudly, and instantly knew who it was.

"Honestly, do you even know what manners are?" she asked as the source of the bodily functions appeared at the top of the steps. He raced right past her, picking into his ear. Matatabi suddenly reached out with her arm, snatching Shukaku by the collar.

"You didn't answer my question."

Shukaku laughed loudly, clapping her on the back. "Awww come on, sweet thing! If I didn't do the things I do, you wouldn't give me the time of day!"

Bulging was the best way to describe this man, who never seemed to care if his shirt was covered in barbeque sauce or if his beer belly was poking out from underneath his shirt, if he was wearing one, that is. There were always noises coming from him, most of them unpleasant to think about, and if there was something dirty in the house, chances are he had something to do with it. As of right now, he was wearing the same shirt he had three days ago, and the smell was beginning to be a problem. Not that he cared.

Yet for all his exterior faults, and his complete lack of manners, a more loyal friend couldn't be found. He wasn't the smartest, and never tried to be, but you could count on him when you needed him.

Unless you were counting on him to take a shower. He would just laugh in your face.

"Maybe if you didn't stink like shit all the time, I would pay more attention to you." Matatabi retorted, quickly letting go of Shukaku's shirt when she realized there was Cheetos dust all over it.

"Tch, don't lie to me baby doll! You know my scent is part of my charm!" He smiled broadly, before rushing down the stairs to see if any of their food was ready.

"Morning, asshole," Kurama mocked as Shukaku wandered into the kitchen. He was still sore about the loud music. 'Do you really have to wake up to that racket every morning?"

Shukaku grinned. "Now now, don't deny a man his pleasures! Besides, you never finish that damned crossword anyways. You're not smart enough for that!"

"I'm smart enough to know where to hide a body," Kurama growled. "Keep talking, and maybe I'll show you."

Shukaku wasn't the least bit threatened. If Kurama wanted to kill him, he would have a looonng time ago. Yugito hissed at him as he approached the oranges Matatabi was still in the middle of cutting, and rudely shoved the cat out of the way before grabbing two of them and shoving one into his mouth, tossing the other up in the air.

"So what's new?" he asked, sending spittle all over Kurama's paper. "All death and destruction, and other interesting stuff? An explosion or two maybe? I need something to put me in a good mood."

Kurama shook his head. "No, nothing that fun. Just a bunch of politics and entertainment articles. Even the classifieds don't seem as shady as they usually are."

"Maybe that's because we haven't put in an ad for a while," Shukaku chuckled, spitting out the peel of the first orange as he began scarfing down the second.

"Yeah, maybe…"

Shukaku frowned. Kurama usually wasn't like this. By now, he was usually chasing him throughout the house, threatening to cut off certain body parts that Shukaku considered very dear to him. But instead, he was completely fixated on the paper, with an almost gloomy look on his face.

"What's with the attitude?" he asked, plopping down in the chair next to him. "This doesn't seem like you at all! You haven't tried to choke me, set me on fire, cut off my-"

"I know." Kurama interrupted. He bore down with his pencil on the newspaper hard enough to snap the lead off. "I know. I got this weird feeling right now. I don't really know how to explain it."

"Take a laxative! That always helps me!"

"You know that's not what I mean!" Kurama snapped. "Things have been quiet for way too long now. It makes me feel uneasy. Like there's something big coming, you know?" He wandered over to the window. His apprehension wasn't completely uncalled for. They lived in one of the dinkiest neighborhoods in the city. It was only natural to feel uneasy when the crime in a place like this slows to a crawl. Like when the birds stop singing before a storm hits.

Shukaku waved it off. "Nyah, I wouldn't worry about it! If it's quiet around here, that just means we're doing our job, right? I mean, it's boring as hell around here, but it's not like I'm going to go out and cause some trouble just to shake things up. Well, not too much trouble, anyway…"

Kurama rolled his eyes. He'd never be able to explain it to anyone, but Shukaku always helped him feel at ease. "You know, I'd feel a lot better if you went out and caused some trouble. Once I see your mug shot in the paper, my mood would perk right up!"

"Like they'd ever catch this hunk of man," Shukaku replied, trying (and failing miserably) to make his gut seem like a set of toned abs. "I could outrun half of the cops in this city with my legs tied behind my ass!"

"I know. I've seen the security footage." Kurama replied. "Why'd the hell you have to bring that up? I was just about to stop having those nightmares." He went back to his crossword, but was still stuck on the same word he had been for over 10 minutes now.

'What's a 10-letter word for a ramen topping? Chicken? No…seaweed? Nah….'

Shukaku laughed, long and loud. Yeah, like he said it was boring when there wasn't any action going on in the city, but if it had to be quiet, he was glad that at least his housemates made life a little more interesting.

The doorbell rang. Kurama hoped he had imagined it, but when it began to go off constantly, he stormed towards the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Will you shut the f-" His mouth clamped shut once he realized who was on the other side of the door. It was an elderly man, heavily wrinkled and covered in a thick white beard. He looked to be the kind of man everyone could get along with, but right now as he was standing there in his bathrobe, Kurama could tell he wasn't in a good mood.

"Everyone else!" the old man spat. "Everyone else dropped off their rent this morning except for you! This is the third time, Kurama! Where's my money?"

"Easy easy, old man! We're just a little short on work right now! I'll have the rent for you in a few days, I swear!"

The man eyed Kurama suspiciously. "…how short?" He craned his neck to take a peek in the house, and when he saw the state of it, what with the dirt and all, and seemed to understand.

"Kurama…why didn't you tell me?" he asked, though he knew damn well why Kurama kept his money problems to himself. He was far too proud to let anyone know about that sort of thing.

"Like I said, things will pick up in a few days! I promise you, you don't have to worry."

"I do have to worry! I'm sorry for the way I acted just now…I didn't think that through. I can give you a pass on the rent if you'd like-"

"You know how I feel about handouts, Rick." Kurama said firmly. "I told you I'll have the rent soon, so just expect me on your front door step in a few days, alright?"

The man didn't seem the least bit convinced, but he knew how pointless arguing with him was. He stepped off the porch, shaking his head.

"You're too stubborn for your own good sometimes, you know that?"

Kurama chuckled. "See you later, old man." He gently shut the door, and sighed.

"Who was that?" Shukaku called from the kitchen.

"Another one of those prostitutes you knocked up," Kurama shouted back, on his way back to the kitchen to finish his crossword. "She said something about a paternity suit, so I told you moved away 2 years ago."

Shukaku laughed again. "Atta boy! Always looking out for me!"

His merriment was cut short when the phone began to ring. They didn't ever bother installing an answering machine, so it would continue to do so until someone got off their ass and picked it up.

Will somebody answer the damn phone!?" Matatabi called from upstairs. "I'm a little busy trying to get the rest of these lazy-asses up!"

"No can do, baby-doll!" Shukaku howled back. "You know I don't like to be interrupted during the most important meal of the day!"

"Every meal is the most important meal of the day for you, asshole!" Matatabi yelled back. She groaned in exasperation, and rushed back downstairs before the phone's ringing drove her crazy.

"Hello?" she said, trying to keep her tone as civil as possible. A conversation was starting, but Kurama wasn't listening. He had just figured out the 10 letter word for a ramen topping that had been stumping him all morning. He filled in the blank squares, smiling to himself.

"There we go…Narutomaki."

Author's Note: Eh? Eh? You like it? I had a blast writing this, and I hope that if you took the time to check it out, you enjoyed reading it. This won't be updated as often as my main story, as I can't spread out my concentration all over the place, but you'll see a new chapter sprout up from time to time. We'll just say it's on the back-burner for now.