I do not own Naruto or Persona.
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A group of teenagers made their way through the congested late afternoon streets in Tokyo. Cars, motorbikes, cyclists wove their way through narrow streets packed with pedestrians.
The teens had relaxed smiles, joking and chatting. The smiles were accompanied by navy suits with fine red stripes criss-crossing over the jackets, pants, and skirts, identifying their particular school allegiance. The building they stopped in front of was well-known to them – a common destination after a long day at school. Midterm exams were over and their shoulders were lightened from the load of studying.
A bell chimed as the group entered the small cafe-lounge that was their destination. A chorus of "ohayo" rang out as the staff greeted the teens as they settled into their seats with the warm buzz of conversation and laughter washing over them.
"Ohayo! Welcome to Akari!" The teens placed their orders of milkshakes, iced beverages and light snacks, and chattered amiably about the past week of exams as they awaited their well-deserved treats.
"How is it every year, every exam is harder than the last? It's supposed to get easier!" exclaimed a bright-eyed youth as he ran a tanned hand exhaustedly through his blond hair. His shoulders were slumped as he leaned heavily against the table on his elbows. He looked as if he had just barely survived through many sleepless nights.
"It gets easier if you actually study, Naruto," the second blond at the table replied. Her long hair was tied high into a single ponytail, giving her face a rather taut appearance.
The black-haired boy seated next to her yawned as he stretched back leisurely into the black upholstered seat, a contrast to the light pine floor and cream tables. "But Ino, studying is just so troublesome."
"What did you think of the second part of Kurenai-sensei's test, where she was asking …" the group carried on discussing their responses in detail (a practice Naruto hated), bemoaning discrepancies and trying to tally up their expected grades. As they delved into the questions in more detail than Naruto recalled, he let his gaze wander around the familiar and comfortable setting.
The cafe walls were covered with a light wallpaper and rustic red brick, contrasting sharply. Three walls featured large windows that let the bright afternoon sun filter in. The fourth wall was occupied by the bar, the small space behind the it a hive of activity with baristas buzzing back and forth.
Next to the bar was an elevated platform housing a piano, currently sitting alone. Behind this were two locked doors. Naruto knew there was a spacious meeting room in this private back area as well as a wrought-iron staircase that spiralled up into a second level.
Naruto saw a familiar face appear from those doors, silhouetted with dark bangs and hair tied back into a loose ponytail. His face fell and his blue eyes grew distant and subdued. "At least we get to write exams," he stated quietly.
The others followed his gaze to the man entering the café from the employee area. As the man's dark eyes fell on the group of carefree teens, his face flickered with grief. He approached their table and the soft lilt of his deep, gentle voice greeted the blonde. "Naruto-kun, how are you?" he managed to smile wearily through the pained expression on his face.
Naruto returned his smile with one just as worn, face portraying an old wound not yet healed. "Hey Itachi. We just finished midterm week. It was a tough one! Stuff like this was probably a breeze for you though."
"Is that so," Itachi replied and glanced toward the server approaching the table. "Studying requires time and effort, even when I was in school – otherwise you are not trying your best. Congratulations on completing a week of difficult exams." He turned to the server as she set their orders on the table, "These are on me today."
The teens erupted into a chorus of protests which Itachi waved away smiling. "I insist you allow me to make this gesture. You come here so often, after all, and I appreciate that you would choose to celebrate by coming to my cafe today." The teens murmured their appreciation as they excitedly tasted their drinks.
Itachi's eyes met Naruto's, exchanging unspoken words as he held his gaze, as they were both thinking the same thing in that moment. I wonder where he is right now … If he were here, would he be complaining about exams too?
As Itachi took his leave and walked away, the group fell silent. Finally Ino spoke quietly, "You still think about him, don't you Naruto?"
"Yes," was all Naruto replied. What more could be said, or needed to be said? Yes, he still thought of his missing friend, and yes, it still hurt.
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Itachi waved as the group of teens finished their drinks and left the cafe. Seeing them laughing and enjoying the beautiful sunny day caused a painful pang in his chest and his throat to tighten. He should be here, enjoying this day …
He sighed and tore his eyes and thoughts away from the kids. Reaching for a glass, he prepared the next drink on the line. One of their staff had called in due to a family emergency so Itachi was covering during the busy moments for the day. He worked efficiently until the afternoon rush died down, crafting an assortment of drinks and food fare that his cafe had become popular for. The double doors to the kitchen whirled continually as order after order was completed and staff rushed to attend to the waiting customers. Itachi was grateful for the distraction of work, especially after seeing Naruto and his friends. The memories were still raw, and he did not like to dwell on them.
He pushed his raven bangs out of his sweating face and heaved a sigh as the bustle died down. Removing his apron, he made his way out of the bar area and to the employee-only portion of the cafe. Behind the heavy doors in the cool of the shaded hallway, he leaned heavily against the wall, long lashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he closed his weary eyes and let the memories – that he was trying so hard and failing to keep down – flooded over him, leaving him gasping for air.
x-x-x-x-x-x (flashback) x-x-x-x-x-x
The 5-year old gripped his mother's arm with his chubby fingers and peered at the bundle in her lap with wide, curious raven eyes. They were sitting on the couch in their small, quiet home. His mother had arrived home from the hospital only a few hours ago, and strange scents he could not place hung to her – something sharp like soap, something musky, something sweet. The breeze from the half-drawn blinds lifted the new smells and swirled them around the perceptive little boy.
Matching raven eyes met his, a tiny rose mouth cooing up at the boy and pudgy fingers reaching up to grab at his long ebony locks. "He seems to enjoy playing with hair," his mother Mikoto laughed warmly at the bundle in her arms.
Itachi wrapped his hand around the smaller one tangled in his hair and gently removed it. The cherub's face scrunched up and the rosy bundle babbled his displeasure as he flicked his little black tail. The tiny fingers tightened around Itachi's hand with surprising strength for something so small. Itachi looked at the smaller hand gripping his fingers and felt a flutter in his chest, a breathlessness that the 5-year-old did not fully understand.
Mikoto regarded the two affectionately – her rays of sunshine. "Sasuke, this is your oniisan Itachi." The tiny neko babbled away happily as he clutched his oniisan's fingers. "Do you want to hold him?"
The toddler looked uncertainly at his mother. With a soft laugh Mikoto shifted the infant onto his brother's lap, hand still clutching tightly at the elder's fingers which he had given up trying to extricate. Itachi cradled him in his lap, breathing in his scent as he leaned over his baby brother. Sunlight filtered through chiffon drapes and fell across the neko's face, soft shadows from his thick eyelashes falling on rosy cheeks. Itachi's hand tightened on his brother's, making a silent promise in his heart as he handed it to the innocent child. He leaned over him, pressing his face gently into the soft, wispy raven locks as he memorized his scent – a heady mixture of mother's milk, baby products, and new life.
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"Should we have the surgery done?" his father's voice was hushed, instantly piquing Itachi's curiosity. He had quietly followed behind his mother as she went to put the sleeping infant in the crib in her room. When he glimpsed the anxious expression on his father's face, he had stopped outside the room and turned to leave, but the man's tone had drawn him back. The toddler now stood hidden by the open doorway.
"He's so small right now – "
"They say it is better to have it done when they are little. That way they don't have chance to get used to … to the ears and tail."
His mother sighed, and Itachi could guess what was going through her mind. He knew that some people had cat-like features. They ranged from ears and tail to whiskers and even fur. No one knew why some people had begun to be born this way. Itachi knew that many people treated the nekos badly, and some hid their traits because of this.
"I don't want to harm him."
"He will be discriminated against his whole life if we leave him this way. And think of what people will say when they find out – "
"I don't care about what other people say! And since when have you been so worked up over nekos?"
"My political career could be affected by this. It's easy to remain indifferent until your life becomes affected. We have the chance now to make him normal – "
The toddler jumped as he heard a smack. Did okaasan just hit otousan?
"I am not cutting off pieces of my son for the sake of your bloody career. I am serious Fugaku, I will not stand for it."
"We have to consider his best interests as well. You know how these people are treated …"
The conversation moved further away and the words drowned out by the sound of water running from his parents' bathroom. But he had heard enough. The thought of cutting off Sasuke's extra little ears and tail was horrifying to him. He hoped his mother would stand her ground on this matter. She was a terrifying force to stand against when she wanted to be, and he had seen even his father powerless in front of her.
He thought of the other aspects of the conversation, about how people would treat his brother because of his appearance, but then dismissed the thought. How could anyone mistreat someone so sweet?
x-x-x-x-x-x (end of flashback) x-x-x-x-x-x
A young adolescent lounged on a large circular bed in a deceptively comfortable room. Deceptive, because nothing about what happened in the room was comfortable for the boy involved.
Large inky, jaded eyes gazed distantly out the window set next to the open balcony. Birds hopped through the crawling vines clinging to the wooden balcony, singing and dancing, and occasionally swooping into the large room. Stone walls rose around the room, interspersed with tall windows granting an impressive view down into the well-kept grounds below. Rich mahogany and crimson velvet furnished the lofty room, reminiscent of a castle.
It was part of a large compound off-the-radar and off-the-map, the boy had come to learn during his time there. The large rectangular structure was unassuming from the outside, set several kilometres away from any major roads and with few windows opening to the exterior of the compound.
In the center of the compound was a large courtyard kept open to the elements, and it was into this courtyard the boy now gazed. Intersecting cobbled pathways were lined with trimmed hedges and floral arrangements, offering those wandering there some welcome shade against the sweltering spring sun. A large terraced pond lay to one side of the courtyard, currently occupied by two younger adolescent boys playfully wrestling in the warm, clear water.
A man wearing the garb of a security guard strolled by – exactly on schedule. Every 15 minutes a guard would stroll past, the boy knew, as they had done for the past four years. There were 23 cameras in the courtyard – that he knew of – and many more in the hallways and rooms of the compound. There were currently twelve children in the compound, but he had seen others come over the years. The only way he had seen them leave was in a body bag through the solitary, well-guarded entrance into the compound.
The dark-haired boy watched as the wresting in the pond morphed into urgent touches and hungry kisses as the two boys ground against one another in desperation. Clothes were discarded, tongues intertwined as the gasping duo moved against each other in a rhythmic motion, creating waves in the water. A head was thrown back as moans filled the air and their ecstasy approached a peak.
As the guard walked past again – 15 minutes already? – he paused to watch the two young boys fuck, who continued while paying the guard no heed. They had nothing to hide, and nowhere to hide. There were no locks on the inside of the doors to their rooms, and the concept of privacy was as foreign as freedom. Nothing was done in private. Their bodies, words and actions were meticulously sculpted by their owner, their architect. They may harbour dreams of escape, but in reality their only escape was in each other.
They boys reached their climax in the churning water, holding each other close in their afterglow. The guard continued on his patrol route. The birds chirped and twirled outside, as the dark-haired boy fought off memories of a better life.
x-x-x-x-x-x
His client looked down at the dark-haired boy now tied up on the chaise with red silk ribbons. The chaise was a beautiful piece in dark mahogany and deep red velveteen upholstery. The man thought the boy kneeling on the chaise was an even lovelier piece, pale skin standing out starkly against the dark furniture. The red silk ribbons cut into his flesh and kept him from moving. He was on his knees, bent forward over the arm of the chaise with his ass raised towards his client.
The man reached for a red leather ring, which he decided would look lovely against the boy's member. The boy himself was blindfolded so could not see what the man was doing behind him. His muscles tensed as he heard the man walking towards him. He hissed as the man reached between his legs and grabbed his limp cock, stroking until he was fully erect then slipping on the ring. He checked the boy's bindings, ensuring they were tight enough as he ran his hands over his tense, lithe body.
The man continued stroking the boy's cock as he moved a black tail aside and spread his ass cheeks to view the boy's entrance. He pushed a finger past the tight ring of muscle, finger-fucking the boy now squirming and moaning wantonly underneath him, tail flicking from side to side. The man added another finger, stretching his entrance as the boy mewled in such a way it sent a pulse straight to the man's own dripping erection.
He released the boy's quivering, engorged cock and removed his fingers from his twitching anus. The boy lay panting, wriggling his ass to entice his client to continue his ministrations. He had learned long ago that playing along and pleasing the client tended to be much less painful, and often resulted in a shorter session. He heard the man walk away. For a while there was silence – aside from his continued panting and the occasional desperate moan. Then he heard the man approach him again, and tensed in anticipation, not knowing what he would do next.
He felt something cool and wet against his entrance, then without warning it was shoved in. It was large, but he was used to pain. He still cried out – as was expected of him – and lay squirming as the object was shoved repeatedly in and out of him.
The man continued to stroke the neko's cock, matching the rhythm of the pistoning dildo. Abruptly he stopped, leaving the boy moaning with the dildo shoved to the hilt into his round, tight ass. He heard a click and his entire world was reduced to the sensation of vibrations stimulating the sweet spot inside him. He did not have to fake his cries and moans this time – the overstimulation together with the cock ring preventing any sort of release left his cock engorged and balls aching.
Another click, and the vibrator turned off. He lay bent over, ass twitching, cock pulsating, saliva hanging out of his mouth. He felt flesh nudge his open lips and the salty taste of precum on his tongue as the man eased his cock into the boy's mouth. He obligingly took the appendage into the hot, moist cavern of his mouth, flicking his tongue just here, letting his teeth scrape there, and suppressing his gag reflex to have his throat fucked as he had been trained.
Complying with the man's desires was better than the pain associated with the alternative, he had learned. The punishments were severe. The rewards of doing as was expected were much better. He would get to use the recreation room – which meant he would get to use the canvas and paints locked away in the precious room if he did not fight back. Sweet escape, a moment away from this place – he would do anything for this. So he obediently swallowed around the cock currently shoved down his throat.
His client gripped his hair and fiddled with his pointed ears, slamming relentlessly into his mouth, leaving his lips bruised and swollen red. His eyes were tearing and face flushed from lack of oxygen. He heard the man moan above him then the click of a switch as the vibrator was switched on again. His cries of pleasure were muffled by the cock in his mouth, and the man cried out as his throat closed and vibrated around his cock. The boy's hips bucked wildly, desperate for release. He felt the man's balls tighten against his face as he shoved deep into his throat, then he lost complete awareness as the man released the cock ring and allowed the boy's painfully swollen testicles to release their load. He rode out his orgasm, cock chafing against the chaise. It'll need to be reupholstered. He lay there in the afterglow, noting the taste of cum in his mouth and some dribbling on his face.
He heard shuffling behind him, then his cock was roughly grabbed – making him hiss and tail puff as the sensitive flesh was over-stimulated. He was stroked to a full erection as the dildo was removed and the man's cock eased in instead. As he started fucking him, the man leaned in close to whisper in his ear, voice low and hoarse, "I want to see you really squirm, like the first time I had you."
The boy immediately placed the voice of his patron – a man who had paid to take his virginity all those years ago, and visited regularly over the years. He had bought, bruised, bled and broken the boy countless times. To this day he did not know the man's name, only his scarred face, priest's gown, and vicious eyes.
"I know your tolerance for physical pain," the man continued as he moved his cock in and out of the boy's ass, "so you have no repentance therein. Such a wonderful feeling, isn't it? To atone for our sins. And I know you have much to atone for, now that I know who you are … Sasuke."
What?!
The boy's body tensed as he heard his real name. "You … how … who are you?! How do you know me?" Questions tumbled out of the boy's mouth as he frantically tried to process this information through his stunned mind. "Why are you doing this? How long …?"
The man bit down on the back of his neck, drawing blood and making him cry out in shock. He lapped at the blood as the boy struggled underneath him, pulling at his bonds as he tried to remove his blindfold and turn around to confront the man. Damn it! They're tied too tightly!
The man groaned as he felt the boy struggle underneath him – this was what he was after. He watched in ecstasy as the red silk ties cut into the boy's straining limbs, scarlet on white. "I was visiting an old business associate … and saw your picture there …"
"This boy … I have never seen him with you. Is he …?"
"He … he went missing many years ago. My younger son, Sasuke."
"I see … I am sorry to hear about your loss, Fugaku-san. I can only imagine what a burden it must be for a parent to lose their child."
"Mikoto and I have come to terms with the loss, but will always mourn his absence. Thank you for your considerate words, Danzo-san."
"Do you know," the man continued as he fucked the struggling boy, "your parents still mourn for you?"
"You know my parents!" He cried out in desperation. "Why are you doing this?"
"I know the Lord led me to you, to have the privilege of cleansing that wretched man's vile offspring. Know this – " he growled into his ear " – you will never leave this place."
Sasuke fought wildly against the ungiving silk ties, thrashing underneath the larger man and crying out in desperation. The man groaned as the boy moved helplessly on his cock, gripping his hips tightly in his hands as he came inside the boy.
"No! Fuck you! Who the hell are you? Why – " he was cut off as a rough hand shoved his face down against the cum-covered chaise, face rubbing against the soft fabric and sticky fluid. The man groaned again as he slid out of the boy.
The sudden weight lifting off him left the struggling boy off-balance and he fell to the floor. His blindfold was ripped off and he looked up into the man's scarred face. "Fuck you!" he spat, arching off the floor as the ties continued to restrain him. The man only chuckled as he got dressed in his priest's robes and headed to the door. "Until our next session … Sasuke." And he left without another word.
Sasuke screamed as he lay there, tied up and covered in cum, helpless and confused. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, but by the time the door opened again and another boy came in to help him, his arms and legs were numb and there was blood drying along the edges of the silk bonds where they had cut into his skin as he struggled. His eyes were glazed over and he looked up in a daze at the man now standing in front of him, long dark hair lifting in the slight breeze from the open balcony … the man with whom this had all started.
"Orochimaru …" Sasuke growled, and the pale man's eyebrow arched at the tone of his voice. Of course the boy had fought against him when he first came here, but he had long since been broken and had not used such a tone with him in many years.
"You fucking bastard! Who the hell is that man? How does he know who I am?!" He struggled onto his knees as he was freed from the wretched ties, wincing in pain as blood flow returned to his limbs. He ignored the cuts on his body and pain in his ass, eyes raging at the man who had taken everything from him.
"My dear boy … Sasuke," The elder turned his name into something vile as it rolled off his tongue, "What does it matter? It will not change anything. You are his to purchase and do with as he pleases. His identity does not matter."
Jaw clenched, muscles tight, Sasuke trembled as the pent-up emotions washed over him. Resentment at the man who stole him … the fear and helplessness of having the control over your life wrenched out of your hands … self-loathing for the degradation of his body … grief …
Did his parents really mourn for him? His family … his mother, did they …? His brother …
His head was pounding. Orochimaru was speaking but he could not hear the words over the roaring in his ears. His chest felt tight. He struggled to breathe. The emotions whirled and merged into one pulsating sensation. Rage.
His body surged forward, all inhibitions forgotten as he lost focus of everything outside of that intoxicating burn in his veins. He let the rage consume him as his fist struck against the startled man's jaw. He heard a crunch and saw the blood on his knuckles but felt nothing but the rage. He was vaguely aware of Orochimaru stepping out of the room, no doubt to get some object to punish him with.
I won't …! I won't take this anymore! I'd rather die!
He suddenly felt a lurching sensation as if being wrenched forward. He closed his eyes against the sudden wave of nausea and the pressure inside his head and chest. What the hell …?
The motion suddenly stopped and his eyes sprang open, ready to defend against his captor … who was no longer there. He blinked and rubbed his eyes … for he was no longer in his room. Wide eyes took in the crumbling coloured paint, flashing neon lights, and empty rides of what was clearly an amusement park.
Am I … dreaming? I don't remember being knocked out … hallucinating?
He rubbed his eyes again but the amusement park was still there. His tail flicked in confusion and ears twitched as he peered around for any signs of life.
His tail doubled in size and he jumped when he heard a chuckle behind him. Whirling around, he was met with the sight of a spectre-like figure hovering behind him, swathed in flowing red and black robes and wielding a long katana dripping with blood.
Sasuke leaped backwards and cried out in alarm, not sure if this was a carnival trick. But this is a dream! Right? There's no way this can be real. So I shouldn't have to worry about this … thing.
"Who – what – are you?" Why am I talking to a figment of my imagination?
The creature chuckled again, "I am not in your imagination, and this place is not a dream."
"You – how did you know what I was thinking?! This can't be real!"
"I know what you were thinking because I am you. I am your Persona, and my name is Kirin. I was awoken by the breaking of the chains on your heart. I will explain more later. For now, I will help you escape this place."
Sasuke stared incredulously at the figure, mouth open. What the hell is he talking about … chains on my heart breaking? Persona? But one thought stood out more than the rest. Escape? He can't mean it for real … but what's the harm in going along with it? If this is all in my head nothing will happen anyway, and if it's something not in my head … The neko shook his head, not knowing what to make of that line of thinking, and decided.
"Alright, I'll believe you for now," he said, "Now how do I get out of here?"
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Author's Note
Thank you for reading! Tell me what you think. I am planning on really fleshing out the Persona universe – I have fallen in love with it. Any ideas or reviews are appreciated!
