Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
As a note: I have realized that the last chapter was written blandly, bordering on horrific. To my readers I wish to apologize and say I hope this chapter is better constructed. The problem was I had been so worried about churning a chapter out at a reasonable time that I neglected the story itself. Please forgive me. If anyone wishes to see chapter eight rewritten, please review or private message me. Even one suggestion and I will do so. That being said, I realize that maybe it too me TOO long to update. I apologize.
Thanks, and I hope you enjoy chapter nine of The Beast and the Harlot: Conviction.
/
"I have brought myself by long meditation, to the conviction that a human being with a settled purpose must accomplish it, and that nothing can resist a will which will stake even existence upon its fulfillment." - Benjamin Disraeli
/
Human conviction is an amazing instrument, one of which allows for the will of the individual to materialize in reality. Odds and obstacles are nothing to one with strong determination. They do not wait for opportunity, they make it. Usagi Namikaze knew odds were not on her side this day, but her purpose was clear and her will unwavering.
On Monday, her very first day of school, she had spent the majority of her time in the infirmary with Tsunade, the school's head nurse. Before leaving at the day end bell she had taken a school map from the older, busty woman (excuse given: find the teacher resource room) and lost herself in exploration. Everything of possible use as well as places to avoid was marked, red ink arrows indicating the paths she should take and when. Usagi then followed this path over and over again until it was memorized. If anyone thought her pacing strange, they did not make it apparent, and simply stayed busy with their after school cleaning. Then, using a checklist she wrote on the back of the map, Usagi gathered the things she would need and hid them in the places they would be used. This was the most difficult thing to do, as there were students everywhere and the occasional soldier watching everyone with bored or amused gazes; she could not afford any witnesses. However, in the end she managed to have everything put away without being seen. Finally, the map was taken by the dumpsters where some students were smoking cigarettes; she destroyed the document using a borrowed lighter.
Now everything was ready, and Usagi would just have to wait until the next day to act. Those annoying butterflies filled her stomach again and refused to let up. So much was on the line if she decided to go through with this... would it be worth it? If she messed up - if anyone found out that she was the perpetrator - it could bring violent consequences to her loved ones and allies. Investigators would think Naruto and Jiraiya were involved for sure, and their relation to Sasuke could ruin Itachi's cover. Usagi didn't want any of that, but every soldier she passed on the school greens made the butterflies turn to fire and her teeth grit in anger.
All day she had listened to passing students and faculty, listened to their fear and their uncertainty. Apparently there had been no assembly to brief anyone of their presence. Why was the military here? Why were they watching students? How was everyone expected to behave? Was there a possibility of attack? Was Japan going to be at war soon like the rest of the world? Usagi listened to all the questions and rumors and every single one combined with her own thoughts and speculations. Each one firmed her resolve. This was wrong; allowing the military to quarter themselves like this among peaceful civilians was wrong, and Usagi could not allow it in good conscience. If she did, the future, unforeseeable consequences would undoubtedly be worse than the consequences of removing the tanks in the present.
When Usagi had found her way back to the now nearly empty classroom B-5 to pick up her things it was nearly six o'clock. Inside was eccentric homeroom teacher from before, Hatake Kakashi, and Sasuke facing one another from across the teacher's podium. The conversation was obviously a serious one if the two's stern faces and low voices were indicators. Although she was unable to hear anything in her eavesdropping, Usagi knew that this was about what had happened that morning. It was about damn time someone got onto that stupid spoiled punk for something. Usagi wanted to approach closer to listen in more effectively, but at that moment her loud ass brother and their pinkette friend spotted her from down the hall and showered her with unwanted questions.
After avoiding everyone's inquiries (including Hatake's) and retrieving her things from her desk, the four students walked home towards the rising moon together holding hands at the blondes' behest. Usagi cherished the lucid moment being all too aware that after tomorrow the new life she was just becoming used to may be nothing more than memory.
/
Tuesday morning went by smoothly, but Usagi was still a wreck. Every second she stared at the clock and every second she fought herself from snapping at students asking her questions. She supposed she must look sick; she was sweating and her skin was pale and she held her head constantly from stress. Usagi's pencil had bite marks all over already from her horrible habit of chewing on things when nervous, and she couldn't stop herself from bouncing her knees. Hinata nudged Usagi's back in second period, slipping something into her hand. It was a squat bottle of medicine and a note.
This is medicine I keep for Naruto when he eats too much ramen. Please feel free to use it if you think it will make you feel better!
Aside from wondering why the hell she shouldn't deck Naruto for not knowing this sweet, beautiful angel so cherished him, Usagi felt so amazingly encouraged by this gesture that immediately - without the medicine - all her anticipation-born ailments ended. Later the two girls spent lunch together in the courtyard, sharing melon bread and chatting about school and the future. Usagi learned Hinata's passion was strangely enough sewing; wedding dresses and cosplay were her favorite. Shyly, Hinata revealed her design drawings to her crush's sister. Hinata's works were both elegant and lively, and even the more socially daunting pieces of cosplay held worlds of class. Usagi could see all of Hinata's passion in these otherwise useless sheets of paper.
"These are amazing, Hinata! You sew these designs together at home?"
"N-no! My.. my father uh, he has no idea I do this. I make them in... in Home Economics." At first Hinata held a proud sliver of a smile from Usagi's compliment, but it was replaced with shame momentarily upon mentioning her father, before she gently smiled again at the blonde. "My d-dream, though, is to make wedding dresses for uhm... Alexander McQueen. That's lofty though, so... so maybe open a costume shop for cosplayers...?"
"Nothing is lofty!" Usagi grinned, "Whatever you wanna do, you should do it. Hell, if your craftsmanship is nearly as good as your art you could be the next Vera Wang."
Hinata looked saddest then. "No... I'm meant to be the.. head o-of the Hyuuga family. Or my future h-husband will be, anyway... There's no place for fashion in the uhm, uh v-vehicle industry."
"Ah, yeah... that's right. Hyuuga Motors..."
Usagi hated oppression in all its forms, including overbearing parents. Hinata was giving off very strong vibes of familial oppression and Usagi hated it for her new friend. Wasn't it enough for a parent to be a guardian? A guide in navigating the riddles of life? Parents did not have to become tyrants to ensure their child's success, and vise-versa. Governments that try to assume the role of parents over their citizens become tyrants. At least that was something Jiraiya had said at a book signing once. Children are human beings, too; they have dreams and hopes and feelings. Yes, this was the sort of thing that Usagi hated most in the world, both as a Namikaze and as a free human being.
Hinata... was a wonderful person, inside and out. The more Usagi spoke with her at lunch, the more she could see the pale-eyed girl's love for free will, despite the sad lack of said virtue in her own life. It was in-part this microcosm of humanity - the tendencies for kindness and goodwill - that all revolutionary efforts were based upon. Hopefully her newly found confidence wasn't unwarranted, because her plan was definitely not foolproof. One slip up and the newly high-school girl was a goner. Whatever would happen in the next few hours, Usagi wouldn't regret what came.
When the lunch end bell came, Usagi knew it was time. Now was her only chance. As everyone else was filing in to resume class she told Hinata it was time for a bathroom break, then bolted for the girls' locker room. Later, after all students and teachers were safely tucked back in their classrooms, Usagi emerged from the locker rooms clad head to toe in all black from the drama department, her long golden locks tucked carefully into a ski mask. Her caucasian features would be a dead giveaway, after all. She made sure to put on plastic gloves from home under a pair of fleece ones to prevent fingerprinting. Avoiding the main halls and following the route she had designed the afternoon before, Usagi was able to make her way behind the clubhouse without getting lost or being spotted by anyone. Snow was still heavy on the grounds and all over everything although today it was no longer falling from the clearing skies; as to not make a foot trail in the frozen mess she walked only in other students' footprints left from lunch. From her hiding place she could see the entire sports fields all the way to the school's utility vehicle gate where two soldiers chatted away without a care in the world. After all, why would trained killers be afraid of civilian teenagers doing something to machines that only they probably knew how to run? It was a brute imbalance of power.
From her hiding place she could clearly spot on their uniform sleeves the mirror-reverse flag of the United States of America. So this is what they were are all shipped off to do? Usagi supposed they had absolutely no idea what was happening at home in the States, otherwise these men would not be so content with their carefree jokes and sipping at ramune.
The hallways were always buzzing with talk of this situation. Everything Usagi felt was necessary to know to carry out her plan had been learned in one day: there were three soldiers with the dozen tanks on duty always, they were minimally armed, and they slacked shamelessly. One Private First Class Moore was already infamous among the students for his light flirting and shift-long naps on the clubhouse porch. With one peek around the long building's front corner Usagi was able to affirm this rumor. There on the concrete platform porch slept PFC Moore, head hung haphazardly over the back of a plastic lawn chair. This one soldier's simple stupidity now made Usagi's task appear so much easier. Were she truly evil the crafty girl would take a picture of this man and anonymously send it to his superiors. He would never sleep again after that, but now was no time for games or fun. Well... maybe a little fun. Taking a permanent marker out of her pants' pocket, she scribbled something obscene on PFC Moore's face, fighting not to laugh out loud at herself.
Not wasting any more time, Usagi tip-toed carefully behind the sleeping PFC Moore while keeping her eyes glued to the utility gate across the way. The two other goofballs had no idea she was there, and that was how she wanted to keep it. Slowly, cautiously, her thin gloved fingers slipped inside his flak-jacket until she found what she was looking for - his military ID card. Perfect. According to what Nagato had taught her, the newest models of tanks required identity verification of some sort for access. Many required DNA or biometric data - hair sample, fingerprint, retinal scan - but Usagi was fortunate enough that the MAV Uchiwa was equipped for scan codes. Codes that were specifically found on the military IDs of those in active duty. If Usagi cared at all for Uchiha Corp. she would suggest to Itachi that he fire his chief engineer for being so careless.
So far things were going beautifully. None of the armed guardsmen noticed Usagi clinging to the vinyl building's side, behind the bushes, making her way to the war artillery parked in the farthest corner of the fields. From this point she easily had the eleven other tanks within range, and the oversized barrel would be faced away from the school. It would completely defeat the purpose if anyone was harmed by what was to follow. Usagi crawled up stealthily (hopefully) to the hatch on the hull, and after locating the card scanner she silently slipped inside the massive machine.
Now that the black-clad girl was laying inside the pitch-dark belly of this metal beast she was at a loss of what to do next. It wasn't that Usagi had forgotten her purpose in this self-directed mission; she knew exactly what she intended to do. The problem was that Nagato's blueprints had given her no indication of what to expect once she was inside other than the typical scope and ammunition chamber. All the blinking lights and switches and hazard signs intimidated the young, inexperienced girl, almost making her lose her nerve. Then she remembered something the South Korean man had told her that was so important that she felt like slapping herself. The MAV Uchiwa was unique because its .44 caliber multiple-round chamber could be auto piloted to fire a specific number of rounds only at specified locked-on enemies. All Usagi had to do was figure out how to set her targets into the system then abandon ship. Easier said than done. What did Nagato say activated that? Umm... maybe this dial here, and that switch there?
"Man, I'm a fuckin' moron..." the blonde muttered to herself, finally beginning to regret her haste too late. There seemed, however, to be a recognizably logical series of steps the mechanical novice followed correctly as a red light with white stamped text reading "Auto Engage" began blinking near Usagi's feet. "Oh shit yeah! Blondes are dumb my ass."
A digital timer to its right began counting down from one minute thirty seconds, which was how much time she had to get the hell out of this thing and establish her alibi.
With this massive personal victory achieved it was time to bail.
/
"OnnaDEF has experienced a huge spike in sales since Japan increased the refugee immigration cap. At first we thought the refugees themselves were purchasing our products to protect themselves in the camps and slums, but upon performing a consumer survey we found that our primary market is actually Japanese citizens."
Ono Sousuke, a frail and clumsy young man with bottle cap glasses, stood front and center to the board room equipped with an easel holding his placard presentation. Although his words emerged smoothly enough, Ono was constantly dropping his placards and often pointing to the wrong product. He was a timid man back-dropped by an intimidating room with solid wood paneling, no windows, and slime for men lining a long oak wood table, laughing at him with their eyes. Reveling in the fact they had the power to determine whether this man's business flourished or failed.
Today was Uchiha Corps' "Open Recruitment" day; an event held annually where smaller business wishing to merge with Uchiha Corp could present their case to the entire board. Mr. Ono's "OnnaDEF" was the fourth business to present since they had begun at eight in the morning. Now it was almost one in the afternoon.
"Oh? So your research team found the connection, ?" asked a plump, greasy, and jeering board member. Hatase Ryuuto looked more like a member of the Italian mafia than a corporate investor. Perhaps those weren't such different things in the end.
"Yes, indeed. We found that an overwhelming percent of our consumers buying our line of concealable non-lethals also hold the belief that the recent rise in looting and burglaries are perpetrated by the refugees. Mr. Uchiha, I do believe these social displacements caused by the war are the perfect marketing strategy for OnnaDEF's women defense products."
Now that Ono was addressing Itachi directly all other eyes shifted to the CEO and Board Chair momentarily as well. He was infamous for not giving any judgement or asking questions, allowing the other twelve members of the board to decide themselves. This action was interpreted as trust and benevolence on the young man's part when the truth was he would rather see this company burn than take part in expanding the Uchiha empire. Besides all that, meetings were among Itachi's most hated things along with fish, shrines, and Madara. The young Uchiha head dreaded this day every year because it meant endless meetings and now... nearly endless Madara.
The old man typically never attended board meetings, choosing instead to send a representative in his stead, but lately with the wars raging overseas Madara felt the need to sit in with his detestable amused smirk. Keeping an eye on who and what came in and out of his company was apparently a top concern. Odd, considering every board member was hand picked by the vile codger himself. Did he not trust them, Itachi wondered. He supposed that in Madara's position no one could be trusted. Perhaps Itachi himself should think the same way, but found what he felt for a few particular individuals since just as few weeks ago could not be forsaken.
Simply hearing what these wretched people thought of refugees like Usagi and Jiraiya made the raven-haired man want to uncharacteristically chuck his chair across the room. Using fear and hatred to market a product meant to protect? Sickening.
"Your wanting to merge with Uchiha Corp. is all well and good, but we have a fearful reputation to uphold! It has long been our policy not to market products to the civilian population," the older, sharper-dressed former British citizen John Harmon pointed out. He bought into Uchiha Corp. long before Itachi was even born, so the possibility he had a hand in the young man's family massacre was sizable.
"It is true that that is our policy, but our line of hand-safety pistols have largely been purchased by home-protection advocates in countries that allow them. There's an aftermarket demand," affirmed the youngest member of the board other than Itachi himself, Saizo Koen. On the surface he appeared as a voice of reason, but when put up to the vote it was guaranteed he would be the first to throw the underdog under the figurative bus.
"Good point, . Re-branding could change the products' image, even expand the bi-market to military wives and scouting platoons," added Ono Sousuke in obvious effort to justify his average products. Just pitiful.
Boredom was beginning to overtake him as he leaned further back into his leather reclining office chair. No, Itachi was sure boredom wasn't the issue here; the life was almost literally being sucked out of him. In these moments his mind unwittingly drifted from the meeting at hand to the unexpected meeting from Sunday morning. To the girl that was unusually clever with complete disregard for social norms or boundaries. To the helpful trickster that had managed to do away with Hisame – something he had been trying to do for years. She was baffling but brilliant and... young. Too young for all this madness. Itachi thought back to Usagi's trembling form the night they first met face-to-face; her heart was strong to have met with him considering her circumstances, but still so fatigued from the legacy she had inherited. Usagi carried the burden of it so that Naruto would not have to... she did so with a smile and energy that Itachi found rejuvenating. How long would the young revolutionary be able to hold on to that courage before this war broke her?
Itachi selfishly hoped he could continue to draw energy from her warm spirit for a while yet.
Returning mentally to the meeting, Itachi found Madara in rare form; leaned forward, elbows resting on the oak wood, and smiling "Targeting gaijin as a sale incentive would certainly be beneficial to us as a business, however - gentlemen - I cannot help but feel that would become a conflict of interest for my political career. You know those poor fools in the DPJ would believe my run as Prime Minister was intended to increase sales."
Madara commented in these meetings even less than Itachi, so something about this proposition must have bothered him. Probably the thought that any civilian - gaijin or citizen - could protect themselves from whatever he had planned. This would be a pointless concern, as simple mace and tasers would obviously never match the firepower Madara possessed. It had to be something else then.
"So are we refusing this proposal, then?" Hatase grinned, assuming that Madara's intention.
"Is there not another marketing strategy for your products? One with... less negative political implications?" Saizo butted in.
"Well-" Ono began to speak but was interrupted by the quiet 'click' of the board room doors opening, from which emerged a young woman who bowed jerkily.
Jittery, nervous, and inexperienced, Honda Mari was one of the newer interns on Uchiha Corp's payroll from Kyushu University's College of Commerce. Itachi had only seen her once or twice in the building, but he made it a point to remember every employee's name if possible. Mari adjusted her thick-rimmed glasses and swallowed, "I'm s-sorry, , but - "
"Dammit girl! Can't it wait?" Harmon rudely demanded, bringing a ringed fist down on the oak wood for emphasis. The sound made Ms. Honda visibly flinch.
The Uchiha CEO gracefully raised his hand in Harmon's direction regardless of his internal displeasure with the older man's behavior. Itachi seriously doubted that the girl would be stupid enough to interrupt recruitment for something mundane. There was no need for the poor intern to be treated in such a manner. Besides, the distraction was a welcome relief. For the first time in several hours Itachi spoke, "Hush. Let her speak. Is there something wrong, Honda?"
"Sgt. Morris from Security says there is a s-situation. He... is preparing a damage report but uh suggests you turn on the television for now."
In literature, Sgt. James Morris would fit the archetype of 'mysterious figure that no one ever sees but everyone knows pulls major strings'. Sgt. Morris was a well respected war veteran and department leader within Uchiha Corp but he liked to keep to himself; rarely did he ever even send messages let alone damage reports. Those were usually reported to the board via representative. Perhaps the ex-soldier felt safer having not even his employer know what he looked like... Regardless, if Sgt. Morris suggested doing something, it was probably in everyone's best interest to do so.
Looking as unaffected and bored as possible, Itachi slid his business-suit clad arm a few inches to the universal remote velcroed near the edge of the table, there pushing the largest button stretched across the gadget's bottom. The wood paneling of the walls at the farthest length of the room from the double doors began to separate and from the space it left was a 72" screen television. The push of another button switched the from Auxiliary to the first news channel.
"-lier this month," On screen was the usual averagely attractive news reporter in formal wear, but more important than her was what was behind her. Itachi fought every instinct to jump and run out at the sight of his only little brother's school surrounded in fire engines and smoke. The reporter was surrounded by American and Japanese soldiers barking orders or running to follow them. Itachi went to Konoha Senior High during his day, and he remembered the back utility gates that were now being sprayed down with water from a fire engine.
"Thirteen MAV Uchiwa that were - for reasons yet unknown - stationed at Konoha Senior High School in Konoha near Fort Leatherwood have been destroyed by a hijacker of one of the tanks themselves." Various members of the board began whispering to one another, some leaving the room while dialing numbers on their cell phones. Even Madara was sitting considerably straighter in his chair than before. A secretary scuttled in during all this, bowed, dropped a tall stack of clipped papers on the table in front of Itachi, and left silently. This was a public relations nightmare; Uchiha Corp. stocks were sure to plummet because of this. Itachi couldn't be more pleased.
"None of the military officers that were on guard at the time nor school staff are available for comment," as the reporter said this the cameraman redirected his attention momentarily to a group of soldiers loading into a canvas-covered military vehicle, focusing on one in particular looking to have ink on his face. The text was too difficult to read from the camera's distance but the... phallic symbol stood out clearly on the man's wide forehead. The crude drawing was something a rebellious teenager would draw on a bathroom wall, not a soldi- … then it dawned on the young man that it WAS drawn by a rebellious teenager. Itachi would gamble his entire share of futures stocks that he knew the identity of this 'hijacker'.
"-But we have been able to gather some details. While no damage has been done to the school itself or any casualties expected, students are being evacuated at this time as both the Konoha Metropolitan Police Force and the Criminal Investigation Bureau are entering the school to investigate the scene. Because of the accuracy of the event, there is no chance that this is a weapons malfunction. There are no suspects at this time," if Itachi believed in a god he would thank them, "however, the National Police Agency has officially declared the hijacking as a foreign terrorist attack. Residents are being advised to remain in their homes until further notice. Konoha Sunshine News will keep you updated as more information becomes available."
By now the majority of the board room's previous inhabitants had left, leaving only the chairman, his uncle, Ono, Mari, and two other board members staring at the large screen as the news transitioned to an irrelevant report on the dangers of motorcycles. To break the silence Madara cleared his throat and said nonchalantly, "It seems that Sarutobi has his hands full. Honda, was it?"
"Y-yes, sir!" the timid girl squeaked. When the long-haired old man gestured for her to come closer she complied. Then he began scribbling something on the Uchiha Corp. stationary provided for all the board members, then handing said marked sheet to Mari when he was finished.
"Call the headmaster of Konoha Senior High School and tell him Uchiha Madara would like to meet for dinner at this address. Tell him 'no' is not an option."
Although Mari's face showed obvious signs of anxiety, she bowed deeply and hastily stumbled over herself to do as she was told. Sarutobi was a good man; there was no doubt that these events were out of his hands and would not bode well for the headmaster. Itachi made a mental note to contact the man in the morning to make sure he made it home safely. Considering what happened the last time an Uchiha requested a visit in this manner ten years ago...
Madara gave his nephew a look which was perfectly understood. The young puppet-CEO stood from his less-than-comfortable chair and addressed the non-Uchiha occupants remaining in the boardroom. "Gentlemen," he said with his usual fake smoothness, "considering current events I hope you will understand if this meeting is reconvened on another day. Mr. Ono, we look forward to hearing your... marketing strategies then." He gestured towards the double door, feeling more like a butler than the owner of a world class corporation. "Now, if you will please excuse us."
Besides Ono's deflated and defeated demeanor everyone filed out without complaint, and Itachi closed the double wooden doors behind them. Madara was very quiet for a long time, which made the younger Uchiha slightly nervous, but he sat back into his previous seat with aloofness. Deciding it best to begin the inevitable conversation so as to possibly direct its outcome and expedite its end (with any luck he could make it to the high school before the police found who they were looking for), Itachi started to speak, "Fortunately this is of no asset loss to us, Uncle, and I imagine that Goodwin will want to negotiate for repurchase."
Still Madara did not say anything for the longest time, only giving his nephew an unreadable stare, until he elegantly sat straight in his seat again and said, "Your optimism is misplaced this time, Itachi. You know as well as I that our stocks are going to suffer, and our current investors are likely to pull out their support now that there is no way to guarantee the obedience of the Japanese military. The person who authorized reporting this will be dealt with... properly, however there is something else troubling me... Did you not say that Goodwin had the rebel infestation under control? It should not be possible for them to have established a base of operations yet in Japan."
"Forgive me if I was unclear. I only meant that his forces were well motivated to combat them. The anti-statist movement is a powerful one." Fortunately. "It is possible they floated in with the refugees. You believe this incident is related?" Of course it was related. Itachi just hoped to throw Madara off their trail by questioning the possibility.
"My dear nephew, there is nothing that happens without some anti-statist martyr sniffing around! I thought we had squashed out the Japanese faction with Namikaze... I miscalculated..."
This was going in an uncomfortable direction. Extremely uncomfortable. Madara had to have some intelligence he was overlooking on Minato's children. If he made the connection... Itachi had to leave a false trail immediately.
"Perhaps it is a soldier?" Itachi suggested, knowing that it was not the case at all but it was much more believable than a teenager, "In America I was told that many of these rebel leaders are veterans, or at the very least spent some amount of time in military service."
"Yes... it would make sense. Only trained personnel could execute this, and not even the American forces are free of spies." He laughed then, "I would know! Indeed, with Konoha's high veteran population it would only be a matter of time before something like this happened."
Excellent, the wretchedly aging man was biting the bait. When they both left this impromptu conference Madara would send all his corrupt policeman and investigators on a fruitless trail; hopefully that would give Itachi enough time to help the actual culprit cover their tracks. Now it was time to play dumb and appeal to his uncle's limitless ego. "I am embarrassed to admit that I do not have much experience in this sort of situation. Should we expect violence from the public?"
This was "playing dumb" because Itachi knew better than Madara how many people in this city would be "sniffing around" after this little incident. When those tens-of-thousands of refugees, gaijin, and anti-statists-in-hiding eventually made the connection between the Uchiha Corp. tanks and Madara's political career heads would roll. The general Japanese public would probably not take lightly, either. There would be violence for certain, the only question would be how long from this time.
Madara looked like a cat drinking cream hearing Itachi's question. "I am unsure about the general public, but we don't know this hijacker's target. It may be wise for you to procure some... extra hands." That was code for 'bodyguards'. They had never had the need for them before considering the ruthlessness of their Security department. Times were changing dramatically it seemed. This could be a golden opportunity to plant their own spy, but who on Earth did Itachi know that Madara would consider suitable for hire?
"Of course. Any suggestions, Uncle?"
"Only that they are not Japanese or American. We need to be careful of infiltration and avoid any troublesome... national loyalty issues. Do you know what I mean?"
"Certainly. I should have some candidates by the end of the week."
Madara hummed in approval, spinning his chair gently to face the large television again. It had never been turned off, so the screen and speakers were abuzz with high school students being interviewed about the destruction of the MAV Uchiwa tanks. The young raven haired man wouldn't bother to listen; he could not afford to be distracted by anything with Madara so close. However, he did notice that as a black student was interviewed the sound of the old man's soft chuckles overpowered her voice. The sound made the fluids in Itachi's stomach feel like corrosive acid. It was maddeningly horrifying. Then Madara said with the grossest of toothy smirks, "This city is filled with filthy gaijin with military backgrounds, isn't it? Perhaps we can make this situation work on our favor, after all."
The only listener of this comment did not reply. What could one of peaceful intention say to the advantageous use of suffering and fear and race division? Nothing should be said. No attention should be given to such a twisted individual if it could be helped.
When seeing that his young and unwilling accomplice would not comment, Uchiha Madara stood from his reclining office chair. "I believe I will be leaving to meet with Mr. Sarutobi now." Swift, inhuman steps glided Madara to the double doors. As he began to open them he looked sharply back at Itachi - a look that he did not recognize which worried him - and then he was gone. The CEO waited until he could hear the elevator down the hall signal its arrival before all but leaping for the company phone situated in the center of the long oak table.
"Honda, have the valet pull my car around front. I will need it immediately."
Without waiting for the intern to confirm she had received his order, Uchiha Itachi grabbed his coat from the chair's back and the Damage Report he had yet to read before bolting to the elevator himself. He only hoped he could get to Namikaze Usagi before the police.