A/N: Alrighty, everyone! Here's Chapter 2 of FSFA and, as promised, it's a wee bit longer than the first one. I figured I'd use this author's note to answer a few questions you might have about this story-- First off, I've finally decided on a name for my OC, as well as where he's from. Why he's there in Konoha (well, other than to kill off certain prominent members of society) is going to be made clear as the story progresses. Work with me, people! I'm making this up as I go, so I need you to cooperate and possibly overlook abnormalities in the plot. I'll probably go back and rewrite all this once I've got a more definite idea of where I want this story to go. I suck at planning *giggles*
Anyways, thanks to those of you who've read this, and even MORE thanks to those who've reviewed! I love reviews. They're like candy, although they usually aren't quite so sweet :D
On with the story! As per usual, Naruto and anything related to Naruto doesn't belong to nor associate with me in any way.
Chapter 2: Recovery
He'd been half-conscious for a while, listening to murmuring voices coming and going, speaking in a language with too many syllables that he couldn't even begin to understand. His chest throbbed and he felt faintly sick, a metallic taste in his mouth making his stomach churn. It hurt to breathe. A dull pounding in his head, plus those other symptoms, told him that he'd most likely been injured badly and lost a lot of blood. Too badly for it to be from a practice session with Alaric, the weapons-master. Images danced behind his eyelids of the events leading up to his current state-- the ceremony when he'd been chosen out of dozens for this special mission, the long trip stowed away on that merchant's ship across the sea, traveling over land, avoiding settlements and people, and finally coming to his destination. This strange country, with their massive network of assassins-- "ninja", as they called them. It was here that he was to find out information, hit a few marks, and get out before he was discovered.
Too bad plans don't go perfectly. He'd changed his mind on how he was going to proceed with the mission.
Something grabbed his arm and he jerked, pain shooting through his chest at the movement. With a weak moan, he opened his icy blue eyes, feeling sick as the room spun around him. Leaning over him was a woman with blonde hair and enormous breasts-- her hand was on his wrist, and a wave of soothing warmth spread from her touch. The pain from his chest wound eased a bit and he relaxed a little. He promptly stiffened up again as he saw the door open to reveal two men-- one with silver hair and one with black-- and realized what was going on: he'd been captured. They were apparently keeping him alive, most likely to interrogate him for information. Well, they weren't going to get anything.
Itachi eyed the prisoner, noticing that lean frame stiffening in defiance. The edge of his mouth slightly twitched as he suppressed a smile. The assassin looked like an angry kitten-- large, pale blue eyes glaring out from slightly sweaty locks of curly red hair. Pale, heart-shaped face twisted in pain and insolent anger as he tried to push himself into a sitting position. He couldn't be more than 17, maybe 18 at most. Itachi couldn't help but wonder why someone so young was so far away from home, killing people... His mouth twitched again. Like I'm one to talk about starting young...
"Has he said anything?" Kakashi finally spoke up as Tsunade let go of the kid's arm and sat back. The Hokage shook her head, crossing her arms and looking down at the prisoner.
"No. Didn't even cry out when we were treating him. Of course, that may be because he was passed out from blood loss. We've finally got him stabilized, although he'll probably be in and out of it for a while. I don't think he understands us." Tsunade sighed, reaching out to adjust the blanket. The prisoner flinched away from her touch, so close to his wound. She shook her head sternly at him and held his shoulder, wordlessly telling him to stay still. "You can question him lightly for now, but don't push him too much. Right now, he's our only source for information from so far away."
Kakashi nodded, but Itachi simply stared at the kid, analyzing his appearance down to the most minute detail. His facial features were different from anyone he'd ever seen... and curly hair? That was new, too. The redhead's left ear was pierced, a tiny sparkling white stone perched there on the lobe. Above the bandages, on the right side of that thin chest was a brand-- a crescent moon with three dots along the inside curve. His gaze went back to those pale eyes, which were watching him with a sort of dizzy anger.
Tsunade and Kakashi continued talking quietly as Itachi and the prisoner eyed each other, one with thinly veiled curiosity and one with growing irritation. Finally, the prisoner looked away, muttering something under his breath. The room went silent as three sets of eyes focussed in on the teen, who promptly blushed and pulled the blanket over his head. After a few moments, Tsunade laughed. "I think he's embarrassed at all the attention. Funny, for all that he's a killer and a potential enemy, he's kind of sweet."
She stood and left. Kakashi scratched his head and eyed the prodigy and the prisoner, then shrugged. "You're the closest to him in age. Maybe you can get him talking-- see if you can identify the language he speaks, or at least the type. Maybe we can track down someone who could understand him. For now, he's useless to us." Itachi nodded and the older man left, closing the door behind him.
The Uchiha sat on the stool vacated by Tsunade, scooting closer to the bed with a soft sigh. Those crystalline eyes peeked over the edge of the blanket at him, small hands gripping the hem as the teen slowly pushed the blanket down again. Itachi watched this with a raised eyebrow-- it seemed he wasn't the only one who was curious.
Deciding that the best way to go about this odd situation was to try to gain the prisoner's trust, Itachi leaned forward slightly and pointed at himself. "Uchiha Itachi. Itachi." He repeated, feeling slightly stupid as he tried to make his meaning clear. Slowly, the prisoner nodded. His eyes unfocused for a moment, obviously deep in thought. The brunet sat back, waiting. The assassin was probably trying to decide on a pseudonym to give, which was only to be expected.
Those pale eyes refocused on him, and the redhead sat up slightly even though the movement caused a wave of pain swept over his delicate features. One trembling hand lifted to point at himself, and those Cupid's bow lips parted. When he spoke, there was a sense of truth about the words that could only mean the kid was giving his true name.
"... Cearul." Itachi's eyebrows shot up. Such... odd pronunciation, especially for the vowels. And the kid-- no, Karu, Karul, Cearul-- had a beautiful voice. Surprisingly deep, for such a dainty exterior. Why was he out killing and almost being killed? Why wasn't he being pampered somewhere, as a singer or idol, or anything other than a killer? Shaking off the thoughts, Itachi reached out one hand in the universal handshake. Hesitantly, Cearul took the offered hand. Itachi smiled faintly, feeling the calluses of a fighter on that small palm.
"Nice to meet you."
Cearul nodded hesitantly, understanding the meaning, if not the words. He quickly withdrew his hand with a slight blush showing on his cheeks. Itachi actually chuckled at the teen's obvious distrust, sitting back in the chair. This... was going to be interesting.
Cearul was laughing internally throughout the whole meeting. He'd successfully convinced them that he was a shy, awkward little thing. It didn't even matter that he'd given this Itachi person his real name-- there was no way they could connect him to anything with such a wide language barrier blocking the way.
He was almost amazed at how well they accepted his act. They must be running around in circles, trying to figure out how someone so unobtrusive as little ol' Cearul had infiltrated their country and killed off an important member of their society. Well, there was a reason for his name... "fierce in battle", indeed! Berserker blood ran in his veins, and for all that he was petite, he was easily one of the most dangerous assassins from Eire. The society he belonged to, Morrigan's Blades, were slowly reaching out into every country of the world, leaving their beautifully crafted blades in the hearts of enemies and possible future enemies.
These ninja had no idea what they'd brought into their "home".
