Notes: Crossover goodness!! Okay. This story deals in a campaign that most people won't recognize on sight. It was a part of Wizards of the Coasts, Dungeons & Dragons, before it went out of print. It, in all its magnanimous glory is known as Planescape. It's running through my head as mostly in Sigil, but they will journey to the outer planes and such in their searching, perhaps even the elemental planes, or one of the planes of hell. Ahem, anyway, criticism is good and if anyone out there reads this and does actually understand or has been exposed to this before please give me a shout.

Disclaimer: Naruto is © Kishimoto Masashi-sensei. My twisted mind just writes the stories hunny bunnies. Planescape belongs to wizards of the Coast or Hasbro or whoever the hell bought it now.

A Touring of the Planes

~First Stop: Sigil~

He blinked a couple of times, wondering if he'd heard the boy right. Dark hair, fanned out like a birds nest, and equally dark eyes greeted his more than excellent vision. Guy couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen. "You want what, kid?"

The boy looked to be resisting the urge to howl in frustration. When he spoke again it was low and measured, like it was taking all of his sordid will power not to just grab the fur-brained idiot and slam his face into the counter he was currently leaning upon. Repeatedly.

"I said, I need to find someone with Keys."

Uproarious laughter assaulted his ears. He resisted the urge to grind his teeth. Geez, they looked to be about the same age, though it was sometimes hard to tell with the plane touched. So why did this boy keep calling him kid. "Keys he says. Ah…" He wiped a stray tear away from one dark, elongated eye. "Look here berk, you're wastin' yer time. Ya want a Key, you 'ave to find a Janitor first, and if I were yeh I would want to find a one. The Lady can be quite unforgivin' to those that meddle in her affairs."

The guy on the counter raised one bushy brown eyebrow. He looked quite ridiculous, mop of straggled hair falling into those stupid canine eyes, and those dumb red marks that he couldn't tell if they were painted onto his cheeks or if they'd been tattooed. On second thought, perhaps it had been done with magic. He looked too much the wimp to go through with an actual tattoo.

He rolled his eyes heavenward (or was that astral-planeward? Or maybe celestialward?) as he left the small shop. He didn't even remember what it sold, nor did he care. All he could remember was that stupid foo dog trying to attack his boots and thighs, and once it's master had restrained it some, proceeded to tell him in excellent common just why his hair looked like a chicken's ass. Yes, apparently chicken wasn't just native to his or a few worlds. Apparently one could get it all the way out here, and apparently foo dogs enjoyed eating it.

Gods, this place was confusing. He wished he could go and dismember whoever it was that had told him to find the Inazuka guy, but he couldn't even remember how to get back there.

He chanced a glance upward, wondering if nausea would again claim him at the sight of the Market Ward and the Bazaar across the great ring that was Sigil. It had certainly startled him the first time he had stepped out of a building to see the wheel city in all its glory. The City of Doors he heard people call it. It's said that anyone that's never been to the planes before and more specifically Sigil gets sick the first time they look across the giant wheel and see buildings and towers and people on the other side. Buildings and towers and people that looked like they had every right and conceivable notion to fall down upon where he stood and yet they stayed in place. He wasn't sure what kind of magic was worked upon the enormous Taurus, but it just… stayed. It was more than a little disconcerting. He'd heard a few people (read: of other races and extremely odd and frightening in some cases) say that Sigil would last forever, spinning until the end of time.

"Um, excuse me..." He heard a small but steady voice ask.

There was a girl, young but definitely from around here, looking at him with worried eyes, a hint of curiosity peeking through. She had the oddest color of hair he'd ever laid eyes on. Was it pinkish? Or maybe it was orangey? Every time the light shifted it played more colors into the light highlighting her hair – red, orange, gold, pink… yes, pink did seem to be the predominant color though. That was another thing that bothered him, too. Mouth turning to a small frown, he wondered for perhaps the millionth time where the hell the light was coming from. Was it artificial?

A small giggle rang through his ears as he focused back in on the girl. He really needed to stop spacing out. Someone unsavory was likely to mug him if he didn't. Hell, he thought ruefully, someone was likely to mug him anyway. The girl's bright green eyes were crinkled in amusement.

"You're a prime, aren't you?" She asked.

One deep red eye regarded her warily from his peripheral. "How can you tell?"

The girl laughed as though this truly amused her, "Sorry, it's just the way you were staring across – green around the gills as they say, yes? – as though you might throw up any moment. Only what we call 'Clueless', people from prime-material worlds and that have never been to the Planes before, look up at the other side of Sigil like that."

The boy shaking his head slowly asked, in his opinion, the most logical question, unthinking of how rude it sounded as it left his mouth, "So, what are you?" In retrospect, perhaps he shouldn't have been that blunt. Despite being generally labeled an asshole for most of his life (which was quite a few years more than one would think, judging by his appearance) people here were dangerous. They'd chop your bone box off as soon as look at you.

Still, he looked somewhat apologetically at the girl which she waved away nonchalantly.

"Eh, don't worry about it. I can tell that yer just curious, anyway," at this she looked superiorly up to him and puffed her chest out a bit, "I am a tiefling!"

The boy hummed slightly; he'd suspected as much but tieflings were terribly difficult for an outsider like him to tell apart from the many other strange, oddly fascinating, creatures that had wandered around him since his arrival at mid sun of the day pervious. Really taking in her appearance now, he noticed that she had pointed ears peeking through her disarray of hair, much like his own, except that hers were larger and far more pointed than even his Elven ancestry had passed on to him. She also had some sort of spotting around her wrists, much like an animal, yet no fur. Her clothes were simple and screamed the same daunting appearance that everyone walking past them did: dangerous. The 'don't fuck with me or you might find yourself in little pieces in a ditch somewhere' kind of dangerous. Yet, appearances were often deceiving, and the woman was regarding him in a rather friendly way. He studied her for a moment further, in which she smiled at him confused, and deciding that her actions seemed genuine, concluded that she simply must be one of the few kind souls around. After all, it wasn't totally unheard of. Even in his own mind he couldn't escape the snort that seemed to be amused at his own stupidity.

The slightly less-of-a-prick side of his mind urged that he didn't have the first clue as to what he should do now and that this nice lady might be able to help him. IF - and that was a big if - he could find it within himself to ask her nicely. He wanted so very much to growl, disliking his own mind pointing out his obvious lack of wisdom and experience in a place like this. It wasn't often that he couldn't do something short of magnificently, for as a general rule of thumb, the boy faced each obstacle and parted with it superior.

He made up his mind quickly, firmly locking eyes with the tiefling, wincing slightly at the doe-eyed look he was receiving, "Would you be willing to help me?"

Amusement curled the sides of her lips as her eyes narrowed down, "Perhaps..."

Shifting uncomfortably, he asked the one question that nobody seemed to be able to answer.

"Can you help me find a Key to the outer lands?"

He kept it short and simple, unwilling to reveal more than he needed to. The woman put hands to her hips and, if possible, looked even more devious than before.

"Wrong question," was all she stated, before looking bored at him.

The edges of his lips tugged down into a frown. What did she mean wrong question? That's the same damn thing he'd been on about for the last day and a half. Stealing a glance back at the shop he'd just exited, a smirk found itself seated on his lips.

"Where can I find one of the Lady of Pain's Janitor's?"

She smiled smugly at him and leaned forward onto the balls of her feet, "Now that is the right question."

She held her hand out to him, her eyes scrunching in amusement, the green turning darker, deeper. Her hands were soft and nearly limp as the strange woman curled her fingers around his. He almost cough-choked, his eyes very nearly welling up with tears, as she gave him a toothy smile and squeezed his hand for all it was worth.

Abruptly, she let go and laughed.

Cocking her head to the side she said with obvious amusement, "Just thought I'd prove I'm not all sunshine and daffodils. The name's Sakura."

He stared at her with wary and wide eyes. Obviously, this woman was more than she appeared, but then again who here wasn't? She easily could have crushed his fingers and he was no weakling.

"Sasuke." He managed.

She made a small noise, some hum of approval, before turning her back to him and slowly swaying down the street. The only sign that he received as an answer to his question was one hand languidly raised over her shoulder indicating that he should follow.

It was only then that he noticed the thin, lengthy blackish furred tail, as it swayed to the natural rhythm of her hips. Just what kind of ancestry has been passed on to her?

This was proving to certainly be an enlightening escapade. One could only wonder what oddities awaited him next…