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Chapter 3: The New Cop
This city was so nostalgic. He hadn't been here in about fifteen years, maybe more— too many hard memories. He had found love here, but lost it as well. A heavy feeling passed over him as he stared pensively out the car window.
Slowing to a steady stop at a red light, the white haired driver glanced over at his only passenger, who gazed out the window with a thoughtful expression. The driver tried to look indifferent, but the way his forehead creased and his eyes sloped betrayed the worry for his adopted son. He knew what this city meant to the man, and hoped nothing too heart-wrenching would be stirred up.
"You sure you're okay with this transfer?" he asked, pulling ahead when the light changed. The blond passenger blinked away his contemplative aura, replacing it with a warm smile.
He insisted, "Of course I'm fine. It's only for a few months anyway. I can't run away from my life and job just because of a bad experience with one person."
"But you loved her."
Blue eyes darkening remorsefully, he looked back at the passing streets. Both men sat in a gloomy silence until the blond pointed out the window. "There's the apartment complex."
The old car rattled into the parking lot. They got out and went to the trunk, each pulling out a modest suitcase and a few boxes. The two men hesitantly went inside the shabby building, as if fearful of opening the front door to find a hostage situation in progress. Entering the lobby, they found no such predicament.
After picking up his keys, the younger man led the way up to the third floor, down the dusty hall to his room. The door looked like a large dog had scratched the bottom in an attempt to get in, and he wouldn't be surprised if the brass number, 344, fell off after a hard slam.
They went inside. It was humble, with a kitchen attached to a sitting room, a bedroom, and a bathroom, but he didn't need any more than that. Setting down the suitcases, the white haired man put his hands on his hips.
"What a dump," he remarked ungracefully, frowning.
His adopted son chuckled. "I'll fix it up. A bucket of paint and some wood glue, and it'll look good as new." They both knew he was completely serious.
"Well, I'll leave it to you. I want to visit an old friend or two before I head back home. You sure you'll be able to get around without a car?"
"I'm only a few blocks from the station, and there's a city bus that runs all day."
The old man nodded, and they hugged quickly. "Take care, Minato."
"See you, Jiraya."
H - O - M - E
After a not so good night's sleep, the sun's rays shining through the window were not very welcome. Naruto blinked his sleepy eyes, turning away from the sun to try and fall back asleep only to find the glass fox staring at him. It was sitting on its box where he had left it. Stretching, he sat up and ruffled his already messy hair, keeping an eye on the little statue.
What was so special about it? He picked it up and turned it over in his hand, examining it closely. It was about five inches tall, with no markings or engravings on it, just two little eyes made out of some kind of red stone. Interestingly, instead of one bushy fox tail it appeared to have nine. Weird.
He could see his fingers through it, and he guessed it was made of glass. Regardless of how plain it looked, the officer had told him to guard it with his life, so he planned on doing exactly that. It was least he could do.
Figuring he shouldn't leave it unattended, he wrapped it back up in its paper. He considered putting it back in the box, but it would be uncomfortable to have in his jacket, so he simply left the box on the floor.
Naruto absentmindedly scratched his arm, wincing when he felt a sharp pain. After the incident with Itachi and Kisame, he'd almost forgotten about the boy on the bike and their accident. The cut on his forearm was now brown with caked blood. He scratched away the dried blood until the cut was clear but bleeding again. A drop of blood ran down his arm as he pulled his sleeve back down and stood up, the paper bundle in hand.
A cold breeze blew in through the cracks in the broken windows, making Naruto shiver as he pulled on his tattered brown coat. He tucked the package into the inside pocket, buttoning it closed to ensure that the fox wouldn't fall out accidentally.
He yanked his weathered boots on, tying them tightly around his skinny ankles, and stood up. As always, the last thing he grabbed was the old cap that sat next to his makeshift bed. Eyes flickering over the initials, 'M.N.', a wave of melancholy washed over him. Pushing it away with a quick sigh, he put the cap on securely and climbed out the window.
Heading down the street, the sidewalks became more and more crowded as he neared the downtown area. It was midmorning, the sun already high in the sky, another grim reminder of winter's speedy approach.
Naruto drew near the convenience store but hesitated a few feet away. He bit his lip, having second thoughts about the whole stealing thing. Tsunade would be really pissed if she found out, not to mention he felt bad each time he snuck a product out of a store without paying.
He hovered hesitantly, staring at the glass door, trying to decide what to do. The cut was worse than he had originally thought, so just leaving it alone probably wouldn't be best; it throbbed intensely, and he felt warm blood running down his arm.
Sticking a finger into one of his pockets, he felt the bill that Tsunade had given him the day before. It was crisp and inviting. He could always spend it, but it was basically all the money he had, save for a few loose coins and dollar bills. When winter came full blast, he would need all the money he could get to buy cold medicine and warm food. He had caught pneumonia he first winter alone and had spent nearly three weeks bedridden at Tsunade's hospital, along with about sixty other people— not an experience he wanted to relive.
Pushing it back down to the bottom of the pocket, he developed a plan.
Turning away from the store, he headed down the street, following the flow of pedestrians. His blue gaze fluttered from person to person, subconsciously checking for any police uniforms and, more recently, the dark bandanas. The image was still clear in his mind- red clouds lined with white, sewn onto black.
However, all the people he passed had neither gang decorations nor police apparel. His walk to Tsunade's hospital was calm and went by quickly. He still felt a little bad about asking her for help, but the cut was worse than he had thought; maybe it merited more attention.
Strolling up the cracked sidewalk, two people came out of the hospital. A girl had her arm in a blue sling, and a boy walked beside her with his arm around her shoulder. Naruto passed them and pushed the door open, sticking his head inside.
The lobby, usually busy but not rushed, was relatively crowded. Autumn marked the beginning of flu season, a nuisance to the higher class but a calamity to the lower.
'Konoha needs to do something about its citizens,' Naruto reflected, pained by the suffering flooding the room.
The warm feeling of blood sliding down his arm reminded him of why he was here. Stepping all the way in, he was surprised to find that there was no one seated by the door. Usually the kind but less talented medic Hinata checked everyone in and out, and on days she was gone Kabuto took over the duty, but currently neither of them were present.
Troubled by the lack of attendant, Naruto searched the room for a familiar face. There were many people sitting on chairs and blankets, drawing heaving breaths and uttering feeble, strained coughs, but there were no nurses. He frowned, heading across the room and down the hall.
At the end, the hallway broke into two rooms, one to the right and one to the left. Turning the right corner, he was practically knocked off his feet by a giant pair of breasts.
"Naruto! Don't tell me you've suddenly gotten sick, too?" Tsunade looked worse for wear; dark bags were hanging below her amber eyes, and her mouth seemed frozen in a frown.
He hid his bloody hand behind his back. "Um, no… well, I…" He stumbled over his words, trying to find the right explanation.
Tsunade rubbed her forehead. "Listen, I don't have time for twenty questions. If you're not dying, get out. There's a nasty bout of measles going around, but with the sudden cold front in the past week, a lot of people have gotten pneumonia and bronchitis to add to that. And there was some sort of fire last night; burn patients everywhere! I'm up to my eyes in people who need treatment and we don't even have close to enough equipment." She sighed heavily, covering her eyes with her fingers for a short moment before peeking through them.
Seeing Naruto's discouraged expression, she put a hand on his shoulder, the same one she had healed nearly four years ago. She offered a little smile, reassuring, "You don't look too sick, so don't worry. As long as you stay away from the seriously ill people, you'll be fine. Sorry, I didn't mean to dump that on you." She knew how much Naruto cared about others. "Listen, was there something you needed?"
Naruto dropped his eyes to the floor. Even though it was a nasty cut, how could he ask for treatment now? He would be taking it away from the truly sick patients, and he could see that Tsunade was keen to get back to them.
Forcing a grin, he made sure his hand was behind his back and replied, "Oh, no— I just wanted to see how you were, granny. But I can see you're busy, so I'll come back later, okay?"
For once, the doctor didn't reprimand him for calling her 'granny', instead nodding indecisively, as if she didn't quite believe him, but she knew she needed to get back to her patients.
"Alright..." She brushed past him, and he turned to watch her leave, hiding his bloody hand.
When she was gone, Naruto departed back down the hallway and slipped through the front door. Once outside, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, pushing his sleeve back to examine the cut on his arm. It was looking pretty sickly, and he believed it would classify as a festering wound. Grimacing, he pulled the sleeve back down. Damn his guilt.
Well, after that little visit, he could cross getting help from Tsunade off his list. With the news that measles was going around, along with pneumonia and bronchitis just to make it that much worse, his resolution to save all his money was reinforced. He had no desire to sit in the hospital, crowded with all the other sick people, too ill to do anything but feel sorry for himself. Besides, he had to take care of that little glass fox, whatever it was.
He put his hand on his jacket, feeling the lump that marked where the little statue resided inside his pocket. Maybe he could take it to someone and ask them what it was— but who?
He couldn't get close to the police station without risking arrest. If Kakashi dropped by again, maybe he could pass it along.
Pondering this, Naruto wiped the fresh blood off his hand onto his jacket, adding to the messy array of stains already present. He headed back towards the convenience store, feeling defeated; he had to resort to stealing, once again.
H - O - M - E
Setting the small stack of plates in the cupboard that he had wiped down a few moments ago, Minato stole a glance at the radio-clock on his counter. It was a moving gift from a friend back in his hometown, Harbor City. He'd lived there most of his life with his adoptive father, Jiraya Namikaze.
Brushing a lock of longish blond hair out of his face, he put his hands on his hips and looked around his newly furnished apartment, blue eyes revealing his satisfaction with the modifications. He was still quite young, nearly forty, not to mention his training with the police force had sculpted his body into a thin, muscled figure, so this sort of labor was still relatively easy.
He was due at his job at nine that morning; the clock read 8:25. Figuring he should get a head start since he wanted to make a good impression, Minato brushed some dust off his shirt and went to change. He had spent most of last night and this morning cleaning up his new apartment, emptying his few boxes of their contents and finding appropriate places to put them. However, much of the time was used dusting counters and wiping floors and killing bugs with moldy flyswatters.
Swiftly throwing on his police uniform, adorned with the shiny brass KCPD button to replace his tarnished HCPD one, he grabbed his coat and left, making sure to lock the door behind himself.
The blond man strolled down the busy sidewalk, checking an outside clock to see the time. He still had twenty five minutes until he had to be at the station, so, to save some money, he opted to walk the few blocks.
Arriving at the station, he was surprised to find that of the few people working the desks, no one even looked his way when he pushed through the doors. A man with dark sunglasses was typing away at a computer with a frown; another, uniquely with two different colored eyes, silently addressing an envelope. The last man, with spiky silver hair, was also engrossed in his work. Someone could have walked in with a bazooka and they probably wouldn't have noticed. Pushing away a feeling of doubtfulness, he approached the front desk and the silver haired man who sat there. The desk was littered with papers and folders, a mug's content of pens and paper clips spilled all over the corner. The man was scribbling away at something, not even noticing Minato's appearance.
Minato waited for an awkward moment before clearing his throat very deliberately, causing the man to look up. His eyes drooped lazily, like he was bored out of his wits with this desk job.
Blinking, maybe in surprise or realization, he exclaimed, "You must be the guy the chief called in. You're investigating the Tailed Beasts, right?"
Minato nodded. "That's right. Minato Namikaze." He held out a hand, which the man accepted after a few seconds, shaking it lightly.
"I'm Kakashi Hatake." Kakashi sniffed drearily.
"According to the file I received, not to mention all the news stations, said that someone had shot down two armored trucks five days ago. I got the call that two more when down last night. The pictures were… impressive."
The desk manager blinked solemnly. "I believe Mr. Sarutobi is waiting for you in his office. It's down the hall there, the second door on the left; he'll take you to each of the sites." Pulling a yellow envelope out of the mess on his desk, he added, "These are the few updates we've managed to make. Hopefully you'll make more progress than us."
Accepting the envelope, Minato headed down the hall. He found the door with a brass plate marked 'Asuma Sarutobi' with the subtitle "Chief of Police" nailed to it and rapped his knuckles on the heavy frame.
"Come in," a voice responded.
Minato pushed the door open, faced with a stocky man smoking a cigarette. "Those are bad for your health."
Asuma chuckled, blowing some smoke off to the side. "That's what my wife keeps telling me. You must be Minato." They shook hands and exchanged greetings. "Thanks for coming on such short notice. This is supposed to be a temporary stint, so the faster we solve this, the faster you can go back home. You're our expert on-call."
"Yes, usually I get more than two days' notice before a big move, but it's been getting a little dull at Harbour City," Minato joked. "Anyway, down to business."
After going over the case briefly, the two men left the station, climbing into Asuma's police car.
"These are nice cars," Minato remarked, observing the fresh coat of paint and newly furnished seats.
Asuma flicked his cigarette butt out the window, not taking his eyes off the road. "Yeah, they're all pretty new. The Chief felt like being nice to us, I guess." Minato raised an eyebrow, wondering why this 'chief' was spending more money on buying fancy new cars than closing cases. And if Asuma was the Chief of Police, then who was this mysterious 'chief', who supposedly held a higher rank? Maybe a nickname for someone higher up.
They pulled into the first shooting site, the road marked by bright orange cones and yellow caution tape. Exiting the car, Minato hunched his shoulders against the cold air; his breath was nearly visible. He opened the notebook he carried with him, prepared to take notes on what he saw.
A small armored truck lay upside down against a concrete building, its wheels shredded and its windows shattered. Several cop cars were parked around, officers milling around, examining evidence and cross referencing samples. Minato approached the truck and looked inside the front, half expecting to see the dead driver and passenger, all bloody and mangled. There were no bodies, but the seats looked like they had been through a wood chipper, indicating that countless bullets had entered the front compartment, and they were stained red.
Asuma lit another cigarette, explaining, "We removed the bodies when we found the cars. All the guards in every truck were dead by the time we got here. Gunshot wounds. It's a shame." He didn't sound very sympathetic, but then again, as cops they had already seen the worst.
Straightening up, Minato went around to the back of the truck, Asuma trailing behind him. The doors had probably been knocked open by the sheer force of some explosive; obviously, whoever had attacked the truck meant serious business.
There were cardboard boxes spilling out of the truck itself, most of them vigorously ripped open. "Decoys?" Minato asked, gesturing to the boxes. Asuma nodded. "But they still managed to find the real thing?" Another nod. Minato read the number on the side of the truck, as distorted as it was from the rain of bullets. He pulled out the envelope that Kakashi had given him, finding a sheet that listed the trucks' numbers and their contents. "So this one was carrying the… Turtle?" Minato asked, flipping through the papers.
Asuma took his cigarette between his middle and ring finger. "Yeah. The Bull and the Cat were taken six nights ago, the Fox, and the Turtle last night. They were all stolen in transport. It seems that the trucks were attacked two at a time, meaning we have a pretty large group of people on our hands."
"And they have some major weapons." Minato glanced at the sizeable dents in the side of the truck, as well as at a little square of tape on the street by the truck; inside the taped off area was the exploded shell of a large grenade, left alone as evidence.
The blond cop turned and walked around the street surrounding the truck, observing bullet holes in the buildings. There was a trail of holes from the truck up the side of the wall it was leaning against and halfway across the road.
Looking up towards the sky, Minato pointed to the roof of a three story building across the street.
"There was a sniper up there. The trail of bullets indicates that they came from up high. That would be a good vantage point to use a grenade launcher, too."
Asuma understood and ordered a few of the criminologists and officers around to examine the rooftops. As he did that, Minato noticed something caught between the open door and the body of the armored truck, going over to inspect it. Only a small corner was visible; the other officers must not have seen it.
He grabbed a glove from the table the examiners had set up and put it on. Carefully, he tugged the shredded piece of cloth out of the door. It was bigger than he thought, a little smaller than his palm. It was black, adorned with a red and white design, only a small part still discernible. It was sort of swirly, maybe a whirlpool or a cloud.
"Check this out," he exclaimed, holding the frayed fabric up to Asuma, who took it, looking it over. Asuma wasn't wearing gloves.
"Part of a gang bandana?"
Minato nodded, slightly perturbed by Asuma's negligence in investigative conduct. "My thinking exactly. It's the typical lightweight sturdy material. Someone will have to figure out which gang."
Putting the cloth in a plastic bag to protect it, Asuma gave it to one of the other officers. "Turns out it was a good thing the Chief called you in. Our force is pretty small, with no proficient detectives," he praised with an embarrassed chuckle. "Shall we visit the other sites?"
Again with the Chief. All the emails Minato had gotten had been signed by Genma Shiranui, Deputy Chief.
Close to six hours later, Minato and Asuma were back in the police car, driving to the station. They had visited the two recent locations from last night and the two from five days ago, and after scrutinizing each scene, Minato had determined that a gang of at least six people had attacked the armored trucks, including snipers sitting high on the rooftops, and they had a proficient supply of weapons, not to mention their astounding planning strategy.
Asuma dropped a thick packet, the report, on his desk, blowing cigarette smoke to the side. "We'll take a look into what you've uncovered today. Hopefully you'll be able to figure out what gang wears those bandanas."
"Consider it done." As a detective, Minato knew he would probably have to go undercover to find out the identity of the gang, a potentially deadly mission considering everything he knew so far pointed to the fact that they were very dangerous people. Still, it was his duty as an officer to not only protect the citizens, but to retrieve the missing items.
"Good. You're shift starts at seven tomorrow."
Acknowledging the dismissal, Minato nodded and walked out of Asuma's office, passing Kakashi's desk. He noticed the silver haired man discreetly reading a paper that was mostly covered by another packet, as if to hide it.
Curiosity piqued, Minato paused and said in a low voice so as not to alert the other officers around the lobby, "What're you reading?"
Kakashi jumped and quickly covered the sheet in a guilty motion, but his face remained as bored as ever. "Ah, you're back then? Hopefully you've been able to find some clues…" He trailed off, as though he was going to say something else but thought better of it.
Minato nodded, noticing the way he evaded the question. As the conversation topic shifted to something well known, he let his voice rise again. "Yes, actually. Seems there's a pretty serious gang running around here."
"That's not the only thing running around," the desk worker with the sunglasses remarked. "I'm Ebisu, by the way. Did you tell him about the Fox, Kakashi?" He smirked, like it was some sort of inside joke, at which Kakashi sighed.
"The Fox was stolen last night, along with the Turtle." Minato replied, not catching on to the joke.
"A different kind of fox. If you're staying here, you might as well be on the lookout for the person we call the Fox. He's a kid, teenager I guess, but he's a bit of a pickpocket." Kakashi started.
Ebisu snorted. "He's a damn thief, and a murderer at that."
Minato noticed Kakashi's jaw clench, but only said, "Murderer?"
"Apparently." Kakashi seemed more than doubtful, but explained, "We got a call from a person who heard suspicious sounds from their neighbor's house. By the time we got there, his parents had been shot dead. Kotetsu and Izumo, another team of officers, said they saw the kid flee the scene. There's not exactly any hard evidence that he's the one who shot them, since his and both his parents' DNA is on the gun, but since he's the only one left alive who knows what happened, we've been trying to catch him. We've been pursuing him for… several years."
Ebisu rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Everyone knows he did it. Hell, I think he probably did it. Kids are crazy these days. You don't give them that new whatever, and they go nuts."
Minato raised an eyebrow skeptically. "So, you've been chasing down this one kid for years, and you've never caught him?" The other desk workers dipped their heads in embarrassment.
"That's why we call him the Fox. He's clever and fast, and as slippery as a fish," Ebisu saved. He wheeled his chair around the desk to a metal filing cabinet, heaving open the middle drawer. Pulling out thick file, he held up a photo for Minato to see. Minato took it, scrutinizing the image.
It was of a relatively young boy, maybe fourteen or fifteen running down a sidewalk, wearing a tattered trench coat and orange pants, which were probably another reason he was nicknamed 'the Fox'. The picture was most likely taken from a traffic camera, given the heavy pixelation. His hair, mostly hidden by a newsboy cap, Minato's favorite kind of hat, was blond and stuck out in different directions. Even though his appearance was scraggly and dirty, a carefree, joyful expression adorned his face.
"He looks like an… unusual character," he commented, handing the photo back to Ebisu. The picture was interesting, and it was shocking to imagine such cheery kid murdering someone, if he even did, but he was more concerned with his job than some kid roaming the streets. If the kid had been on the run for several years and wasn't connected to any other murders, it was doubtful he was a serial killer, and pickpockets were the least of his troubles; he had professional police training, after all. If the kid tried to steal something off him, Minato could handcuff him before he had time to blink.
Besides, the kid didn't look like someone on FBI's Most Wanted.
He was going to ask the kid's name, but shook his head and resolved not to get involved; he'd leave catching the brat up to the Konoha police, although it seemed they weren't the most competent.
Minato decided to concentrate solely on his job here. It would probably take a while to solve, especially with such a mysteriously menacing force behind the robberies.
While the three conversed, the other man watched in the room with a calculating gaze, fixing his differently colored eyes, one dark forest green, the other bright amber, on the trio.
Minato felt the stare and shivered. As Kakashi and Ebisu argued about the motives of the Fox, Minato glanced towards the other side of the room, but the man sitting there was just pulling a pen out of a mug on his desk. He nodded his head and smiled, to which Minato nodded in return. Still, something felt a little creepy about the man in the corner.
Checking the clock, Minato remarked, "It seems my shift ended half an hour ago." Taking the hint, Kakashi and Ebisu stopped bickering and said their goodbyes. Minato pulled his coat on and, with his notebook and envelope under his arm, headed home.
The sun was starting to drift out of sight, and the walk home seemed slightly longer, probably because Minato stepped slower. He felt weighted down by the heavy discoveries he had made, both about the crime scenes and the police themselves. How could they have missed the shredded bandana piece? Yeah, it wasn't exactly in plain sight, but surely at least one other investigator would have noticed it. These were the Tailed Beasts they were talking about, the most expensive and famous artifacts in the world, not just some fancy glass paperweights.
He scratched his head in thought, brow furrowing.
Almost as soon as he took his shoes off and set the envelope and notebook on the kitchen table, his stomach growled intensely. He opened the fridge only to find it devoid of any groceries.
Ah yes, he had spent all of the time between moving in and going to work unloading his few possessions and cleaning the apartment. He had put his plates in the cupboard, not realizing that he hadn't bought any food to put on them. Groaning in the realization that he would have to make a trip to the food store, Minato shuffled to the bedroom to change out of his police uniform.
Once in civilian clothes, the blond man once again headed out the front door, tiredly making his way down the stairs.
He recalled passing a small convenience store while driving with Jiraya that was a few blocks away. Deciding to go there instead of a larger grocery store since it was closer, he threaded his way between the mass of people on the sidewalk towards the direction of the store.
A boy was locking up a bike with a dented frame in front of the store, moving to go inside at the same time as Minato. He looked a little worse for wear with his hands wrapped in bandages. Being a Good Samaritan, Minato held the door open for the dark haired boy, who just jerked his head in thanks.
Following him into the convenience store, Minato immediately went to the refrigerated section near the back to pick up some milk and meat.
As he was trying to decide between a half gallon and a whole gallon of skim milk, a gunshot rang throughout the store.
H - O - M - E
It was around five o'clock, and people were milling about the downtown shopping and walking after work and school let out. Naruto reached his destination in under fifteen minutes, casually entering the little store. It sat hunched near but not on the corner of the street, squished between a quaint little tailor's shop and a dark game shop that had unnerving cardboard cutouts of aliens in the display window.
The store was small compared to the larger supermarkets across town, but it still carried a wide variety of products, ranging from groceries to office supplies to drugs (the legal kind, of course). A few people, around seven, were milling around the store. A couple were talking here and there, but most were meandering throughout the store, either trying to stall going home or trying to recall what they had written on the shopping list that lay forgotten on their kitchen counter.
Trying to remain inconspicuous, Naruto looked around discreetly and darted into the first aid isle like a mouse into a hole. Once he was fairly certain the cashier's view of him was blocked, he searched the shelves for some ointment and bandages. He slipped a small roll of bandages into his pocket, glancing around to make sure nobody had seen him.
As he was about to take a little tube of Neosporin, a boy strolled into the isle. Naruto froze with the roll a few inches away from his pocket, troubled eyes meeting the dark stare of the black haired boy. His hands were wrapped in some type of gauze, and he was in the middle of reaching for a bottle of NSAIDs, a pill good for helping with bruises.
The two boys stared in a frozen silence, recognizing each other from the bike incident the day before. The dark haired boy raised an eyebrow and queried, "Are you stealing that?"
Naruto gulped, averting his eyes. He opened his mouth to retort, "No, I was, like… jus-just look—"
He was cut off by the shattering of glass and a gun going off. Both boys instinctively ducked, and someone screamed from the front of the store. A man appeared at the entrance to their isle, wearing a ski mask and holding a fearsome looking firearm. "Hands up and get over here!" he ordered, his voice deep and serious. Naruto and the dark haired boy exchanged anxious expressions before obeying, slowly emerging from the aisle. The man roughly pushed the dark haired boy to emphasize his authority. The other shoppers were being herded to a side wall. Two other people in ski masks were shoving them down, both carrying weapons as well. One had the curves and higher voice of a female, while the other was a fatter male.
"Come on, fatty, hurry it up. We've gotta get the cash and get the hell outta here before the damn cops show up," the female growled to the large man, who grabbed Naruto's coat and threw him down next to a surprised man with spiky blond hair. Naruto readjusted his cap, glaring angrily at the thugs.
"Do you hafta be so mean?" the man answered dejectedly. "You swear too much, Tanyuyu."
The woman, Tanyuyu, punched him heavily in the arm, but he didn't flinch. "Shut up Jirobo, you fat idiot. God, you piss me off." She turned away from him to watch the fourth robber, who had bluish hair poking out of his mask, pointing a gun at the frightened cashier, who was trying to open the register, his shaking hands hindering him.
The man was impatient, grumbling, "C'mon, you piece of trash, we haven't got all day." The gun clicked, adding incentive for him to move faster.
The blond man sitting next to Naruto murmured, "As long as we give them what they want, they shouldn't hurt us." Naruto turned to make out the other shoppers lined against the wall to his right.
A boy with a spiky brown ponytail was sitting with his elbows on his knees, a blonde girl huddled next to him muttering something about how this was all his fault. The brunette noted exasperatedly, "Troublesome."
An older woman, her face showing uncountable wrinkles, had her arm wrapped around a small, frightened boy. He was probably her grandchild, and tears ran down his face as he clutched the lady's sweater.
The person on the end was another young boy, no older than thirteen, but he looked more angry than scared. He was slumped with his arms crossed over his chest, brown hair spiked up in various directions. A blue scarf was wrapped around his neck, creating a tall collar.
Then, of course, to Naruto's left was the black haired boy. He looked inappropriately bored with the whole situation, his face betraying no expression.
Facing the blond man to his right, Naruto nodded. "Agreed. These people could get hurt if we try to pull anything." He paused to take in the man's appearance. He looked sort of familiar, with shoulder length pointed blond hair and calm blue eyes. Furrowing his brow, Naruto tried to think, but the man's eyes suddenly widened.
"Wait, I've seen you." He looked around quickly, as if to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. "You're that kid, the Fox."
Naruto felt his face go pale.