Disclaimer: The plot is mine, but not the characters. Characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.
Author's Note: You do NOT have my permission to copy, translate, use, and/or replicate this work on any platforms, including but not limited to online sites and print/copy texts.
Prologue
A steady stream of smoke swayed into the atmosphere. A click of a signature butane lighter. A puff of tobacco fumes blending into the breezy night air.
The moon was full tonight, its cascading light bouncing off the grimy alley walls and extending the shadows of a large silhouette. The owner had a permanent, monotonous expression embedded deep in his features as he nonchalantly stared at the round orb above.
"Please stop! Gaaaah, p-please, urggh!"
Some rodent in the narrow alleyway behind the man was yapping like a dog. Why did lowlifes always squeal when they were squeezed? It wasn't anything new. In fact, the words were verbatim as if someone had played a recorded cassette of it each time a little pressure was applied.
"I'll bring you the money! Please j-just give me another day!"
A kick there. A bloody cough. More begging.
The man with the broad shoulders sucked in the last of his cigarette and allowed it to slip from his fingers. His black dress shoe came down to smear it against the pavement as if he was squishing a bug.
He then lifted his arm up, palm splayed open, and immediately a serrated knife was placed in his grip.
When he finally turned his attention toward the activities behind him, he eyed the man who stood next to the curled up figure. When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was low and calm; the equivalent of the tone a normal person used to talk about the weather.
"Naruto, I asked you to take out the trash, not play playground bully." The man's gaze flickered down to the squirming body on the pavement before he settled back on the six foot one blonde, who began laughing nervously. "If you weren't so kind-hearted, perhaps vermin like that would think twice before attempting to take advantage and try to skip town."
"Sorry about that, Itachi-sama," Naruto said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Perhaps you would benefit from a lesson or two with Neji."
"I'm just tagging along for the shits and giggles," Neji chimed in. He was crouched low in a squat at the further end of the alley, with elbows on his thighs and cheeks propped up on his hands. The brunette grinned cheekily.
Itachi sighed inaudibly. "Which hand?" he asked, not even bothering to cast a glance down at the man breathing heavily on his side. He heard the brief sound of retching, but he paid no heed.
Itachi's foot came down on the hand closest to him when his question was left unanswered, crushing the bones to the cemented ground. He crouched down as if he was performing the mundane task of tying his shoe, and a second later, the sickening crunch of bone echoed into the night followed by a piercing scream.
The man idly dusted himself off as he stood and handed the knife back to one of his henchmen.
"Boss, how'd you do that without getting blood on yourself?" Neji asked in amazement as he bounded closer to the scene. Blood began to pool around the man's hand as his finger laid disconnected next to the body.
"Break his legs," Itachi commanded, ignoring the brunette. "Let's see if you can run if you can't walk."
The man disappeared after, leaving Neji and Naruto to wrap up the night.
"Man," Neji exhaled with a hint of mirth, "is it just me or is he actually in a decent mood today? I mean, when was the last time you heard him ask someone which hand they'd prefer to chop off?"
Naruto eyes Neji with an unreadable look. "You're oddly in the right line of work," he commented.
"Why, thank you! Now, which leg do you want?"