Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended

Title: Floodgates
Chapter: 1/26
Pairings: NarutoxSasuke, NarutoxHinata, SasukexVarious OCs
Rating: M for violence, both M/F and M/M sex, adult themes
Spoiler?: Not specifically, but it was written somewhere around #460, so if you've read up to then, that might be good
Genre: Drama, and a little Romance
Notes: 1- There are two timelines in this. They are both linear to themselves, though not necessarily to each other. Also, additional time passes that isn't mentioned, so the timeline is a little unconventional.
2-this has an open ending

Chapter 1

The city was cast in a perpetual semi-darkness brought on by willful clouds that settled too low. They rested their bellies against the hard-packed earth of road and rock of building, enveloping it all in hazy ambiguity as if they forgot or didn't have the energy to rise into the sky. They lay so thick and dense that little could be seen until one was directly upon it, the sections of town declaring their intentions by the burning of their lights even in daytime. Yellow and red, blue and green, the city glowed with dots of color round and soft at the edges like spirits, come to steal souls away. It was the perfect cover for the lower end of society, where whores and men of ill repute could trade their wares in relative secrecy, there and gone again into the anonymity of fog.

So it had been, so it always would be. No matter how the Mizukage attempted reform, Kirigakure remained a city built on the souls of its dead children. Their blood lingered in the air and their bones held up the cornerstones of its buildings, filling the city with the weight of unwanted memory.

He could feel it too, that heaviness of air, the touch of water droplets too stubborn to hit ground pressing in on him. He could feel the security and comfort of it as men and women like him appeared like specters every day to offer their services, only to disappear back into that darkness again as if they were never there. It was his too, that blanket of mist that settled down around him, concealing and protecting him like one of its own. The heart of the city had welcomed him in like a long lost son, recognizing in him a resonance of spirit like a mother knows a child. He was of this land now, as true as if he were born of it. He could feel the air, smell the blood in it, taste the metal, and hear the whispers that floated through it with promise and threat and secrets, revealing to him a whole world he couldn't in reality see.

--

Blindness didn't bother him nearly as much as those who had known him under another name would have presumed. While it was true that the loss of his sight and the near destruction of his eyes had led to the inevitable loss of his coveted jutsus, he had learned in the years that followed how to cope without. In the place of all he once was grew an acceptance so calm and hard it bordered on the frightening. And in the new peace that had been established in the world, his eyes were rendered not as important as once they were.

He found other, more reliable strengths to rely on.

His other senses had been honed to as close to perfection as they could be, sharpened to a razor point. Nowadays he could practically taste the scent of his prey on his tongue like a snake. His chakra sense was far keener than it had ever been before, so that he could detect and know chakra in a way he shouldn't. In some sense he was stronger, and more formidable, than when he could see.

He didn't move through the world with dark glasses or his eyes closed, actions taken with others' comfort in mind. Sasuke didn't care about them. He preferred to live with his empty eyes wide open, his "disability" out there for everyone to witness and be unnerved by his dark vacuous stare, the one that showed he had once been able to see. And perhaps he could still see, right into their meager little souls.

He enjoyed people thinking that.

No one outside the business ever suspected just how dangerous he truly was. It seemed nearly everyone underestimated him because of his blindness, an attitude that would have once irritated him but now worked to his benefit.

Besides, he didn't need to see the faces of people who didn't matter.

Sasuke rolled over in his large rented bed and hit something soft and warm that shouldn't be there. He let out an aggravated sigh and pursed his lips. The unwanted fool had returned, or never left, either way acting as though he had some sort of right.

Usually Sasuke was adept at weeding out the needy ones from the crowd, but every once in a while one slipped through his screen.

Trying to disturb his unwelcome bed partner as little as possible, he rose and padded quietly to the bathroom. The bedroom floor was rough beneath his bare feet, the bath tiles cracked and broken.

The time had come to wash away the filth.

It was one of the few pleasures he still actually took pleasure in. He would have preferred a bath, soaking in the deep warm water as the steam rose up over his face, but the only baths nearby were public ones.

The water of the shower cascaded warm and clean down his body, carrying away all reminders of the night before with blessed completeness.

With a deep feeling of disgust, he sensed movement from the other room and heard the soft latch of the bathroom door opening. The fool likely thought he was being sly, which only irritated Sasuke further. All it did was serve to illustrate just how stupid the boy really was. Warm unwanted arms wrapped around Sasuke from behind and a chin rested on his shoulder with a familiarity entirely unearned.

Sasuke took a deep breath and inhaled the sharp scent of over-chlorinated city water.

"Mind if I join you?" The boy purred into Sasuke's ear.

Chlorine couldn't get rid of everything apparently.

The shower having lost all its charm, Sasuke shrugged free from the embrace, shut off the water and stepped out. He dried himself off and replaced the towel neatly to the crooked rack, all deftly avoiding the unwanted guest as if he didn't exist.

He returned to the bedroom and dressed in his usual attire of black pants and pale blue robe, blue only because then it wasn't white. He sat down on the bed and could feel the scratchy, worn out blanket even through his clothes as he buckled on his sandals. The boy dropped down next to him, so light he barely caused a shift in the mattress.

"So what do you want to do today lover?"

Sasuke sneered.

The imbecile persisted in the belief that he meant something. It was beginning to seriously rankle on Sasuke's nerves. He walked over to his pack and carefully went down his internal inventory. He slung his elegant and lethal katana across his back, latching it on tight and looking every bit the beautiful and grim harbinger of death that had lured the boy in the first place.

"I'm not your lover." Sasuke hated that word.

"I'd have to say last night sort of contradicts that statement." The boy's voice was too high, almost girlish. Sasuke would have strangled him except that might force his voice to reach an even higher soprano.

Sasuke sighed, picked up his bag and turned away. "The room is paid until the end of tomorrow," he informed the stranger dispassionately. "I'll tell the manager you can use it until then. Beyond that, we have nothing more to say to each other, Kano."

"It's Kenta," the boy corrected with a soft edge of irritation.

"Whatever."

Without another word, Sasuke strode purposely from the room with his bag in hand and his sword at easy reach. The boy pounded his clumsy feet to the door, making dust fly and the old floorboards creak. He yelled from the opening, as though Sasuke was supposed to care.

"My name is Kenta!"

--

The mark should be arriving any moment, so Sasuke kept his senses open for the approach.

Lazily, he sipped the bitterness of his green tea as he sat at the corner table of a ramshackle restaurant. His little table lurched to one side so that he had to hold his teacup or it would slide straight off and into his lap. At his back, his sword was hidden under a low level genjutsu, disguised as part of the cloak he wore in a condition to match his surroundings. It was hardly the most concealing of his many disguises, but then this was hardly a place where such a disguise would be remembered as remarkable.

The stink in the air surrounded him like an unseen fog to match the one outside. He could smell the patrons' sins seep from their pores; smoke and alcohol, sweat and blood, rusty steel and gunpowder. If there was one thing his life had taught him, it was that innocence was a ruse. But there was no false innocence here and that was good.

No one here wanted to be seen any more than he did.

Sasuke knew the instant his mark entered by the sudden whiff of soap, a substance clearly foreign to every other person present. He took a couple more leisurely sips of his tea before setting the cup down with a click, pushing it to the far side in hopes it would stay put. Though if it didn't, it wasn't his concern.

He laid a coin on the table as payment and silently edged closer to his quarry. While he moved, he was rendered invisible as if his inability to see made others unable to see him.

"Yeah, yeah," one man said, his patience clearly stretched thin. "I get it, all right? You got your end settled?"

"They'll be there," another man said, equally impatient. The two were clearly allies only out of necessity; this made plain by how the clean smell of the one warred against the stink of the other. Strange bedfellows these, but not uncommon ones.

"Yer sure about this?"

The second man cackled dryly. "The old man suspects nothing."

Sasuke silently snorted within the safe confines of his hooded cloak. Such a boring and commonplace sin betrayal was, barely worth the effort of mentioning. It greased his palm from either side so often that he rarely took the time to notice it.

The sound, smell, and feel of his quarry definitively ensconced in his mind, Sasuke had no more reason to stay. So he made his way out into the street, letting the coolness of the night's mist wash over him before his task was to be completed. The water in the air condensed in little droplets like sweat on his skin, but he didn't wipe them off.

It took far too long for his liking for the man to emerge as Sasuke sat waiting on the restaurant's rooftop.

The assassin waited only a moment more before leaping from his lofty perch. He took his time trailing the man's steps; he always took his time. Sasuke had caught the man in his net hours ago and his fate was already sealed. Rushing now would serve no purpose. When the air around them turned cooler and heavier, the ground rougher with the crunch of gravel, and the smell on the wind grew pungent with the stink of decay, Sasuke knew the time had come.

For some reason, criminals always liked to walk unattended down dark, abandoned alleys.

Sasuke slowly came to a stop. The man continued forward, completely unaware he wasn't alone.

"Yamamoto-san?"

Sasuke's voice was a whisper, rolling through the dark fog like the remnants of a ghost.

The quarry stopped for just a second before clicking off his lantern and moving on. He assumed that Sasuke was like him and couldn't make his way in the blood mist darkness without additional light. An amateur mistake. This was no career criminal, no great thinker of men. He was a small creature with large ambition and a stomach too tiny to hold it.

Sasuke smirked.

"I come," Sasuke began in his deep sensuous voice, "On behalf of Council Elder Mitazaki."

There was no mistaking the hitch in the mark's step. His meager chakra spiked with fear, practically blazing like an inferno within Sasuke's senses.

The assassin's lip curled into a sneer.

An amateur. A foolish waste of time amateur.

A moment later and the man bolted.

Sasuke left his feet, trained to be lightning quick since he was a child, it was a skill now polished to near perfection. He was over and in front on the man in an instant, materializing out of the fog like an apparition.

The quarry's sweat stunk of panic and adrenaline with just the faintest hint of alcohol.

"Now, now, Yamamoto-san," Sasuke drawled. "It's not polite to leave in the middle of a conversation."

Sasuke smiled dubiously and smashed the right side of the man's head with the hilt of his sword.

The man was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

--

The small package hit the desk with a flat, squishing sound, sickening and absolute.

"What's this?" A deep baritone intoned, not sounding interested in the least.

"Your guarantee."

"Guarantee?" There was the slightest pitch of interest in the voice as paper rustled, followed by a noisy squelching sound. The contents of the package slipped into the man's hand and he released a soft grunt. Sasuke hummed critically under his breath.

"That your esteemed colleague won't talk." Sasuke explained.

The former owner of the tongue would have had a lot to say.

The man handled the muscle for a moment, testing its unexpected weight then dropped it back carelessly to the desk. He neither flinched nor recoiled, merely handled the object as though it was nothing more than another one of his tedious papers.

Sasuke's assessment of him raised a notch.

The man leaned back heavily in his chair, making it groan, and regarded the assassin. Sasuke estimated the man to be of average height, bulky but not fat, of later middle age, and of a shrewd mind and a ruthless hand if necessary. He was a man with a taste for expensive things; Sasuke recognized the scent of his soap as a rare European import that cost more for a bar than most commoners made in a month. It was the same one that the now silent Yamamoto had used.

Sasuke noted the connection then dismissed it.

"What have you done with the body?" The man Mitazaki asked.

"I have left it to him."

Mitazaki paused a moment before leaning forward in his chair, the springs squeaking in protest. "He's not dead?" He asked incredulously.

The room was too hot. The council elder was sweating and the scent of it was starting to overwhelm the soap.

Patiently, Sasuke reminded the man, "I wasn't paid to kill him."

There was another awkward pause. "Yes, but with this injury, how could he - ?"

"I have my ways," the assassin replied. "If you want him dead, that will cost you extra," he explained blandly. "Disposing of remains can be rather tedious."

"No, no," the man was quick to refuse. He picked the tongue up again and squished it with his fingers. "So, you have done this favor for me," he ruminated, pretending suddenly at friendliness they did not share. "How do you know what I want to keep secret shouldn't be known? That what was in the cargo crate wasn't something destructive? Or heinous?"

"I don't."

"Ah, I see." Mitazaki leaned back into the chair, settling back comfortably. "Then how do you know you made the right choice? How do you know he was not the better man?" He waved his hand at the tongue in indication.

Sasuke huffed derisively. He'd learned long ago about the transient nature of "better", or even "good". They were no more than words, mutable with the times and circumstances.

"I don't care."

Then Sasuke pulled his lips up into a smile that was sure to send a chill up the other man's spine.

"I'm not in the business of passing judgment." Not anymore. Sasuke let his blank, all black gaze look off at nothing in a way he knew was disturbing. He adjusted his aim and the anxious shift in Mitazaki's demeanor told him he had hit his target spot on.

Sasuke let his lip curl further.

"I'm simply the executioner."