Slowly and carefully, Sasori rose out of the ground, displacing his body double and inspected the battlefield through his undamaged left eye.

No, that was not right. It was not so much a battlefield as a monument to his defeat - a field of broken puppets mocking him with their existence. Oh, there was plenty of dead flesh out there, but they had never been more than puppets themselves. Their master was still out there somewhere, very much alive. Alive and in all likelihood, laughing at him.

The Puppeteer moved through the field, inspecting the remains. All of the puppets he had deployed were significantly damaged and therefore unsalvagable; a downside to using human puppets was that their parts were not interchangeable. He would have to start from scratch.

When he came across the remains of his puppet armor, Hiruko, Sasori's control over his emotions slipped further and he frowned. Hiruko was his favorite puppet, only the Third Kazekage came second… and now it was gone, along with the rest of his Collection. The armor he worn as his skin for the last few years, destroyed. Just like that. He absentmindedly fingered the storage scroll that held his last surviving human puppet – he didn't know whether it was blessing or curse that he had not the opportunity to bring the Third Kazekage to bear. Perhaps he might have snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. Perhaps he would have been consumed. Sasori looked down at Hiruko for another minute before turning his back on it and moving on.

It would not do to dwell on what ifs. Rather he must focus on certainties.

Like the certainty that Orochimaru would pay dearly for this. Sasori make sure his death lasted days.

Not that he could get back back at the accursed snake anytime in the foreseeable future – it would take years to replenish his Collection alone even under ideal conditions. As much as he wanted to track down that slippery serpent and drive a stake through his heart, he realized that he stood no chance against him right now. And besides, there was a lesson here; Sasori's battle strategy held a major flaw; an over-reliance on poisons.

Not that he had considered it a weakness until now; Few survived the initial barrage of poisons he coated his weapons with and none had ever survived his full arsenal, even Hidan had been neutralized. Thus Sasori's tactics were largely unchanged from his days in Suna; he would deploy some puppets to test his opponent while arraying a larger force of puppets away from the fray to attack once he had gotten the measure of his opponent. Given his skill, Sasori could coordinate multiple attacks simultaneously and thus create interlocking killing fields where a single scratch was either lethal or at the very least debilitating with real possibility of becoming fatal within the next few minutes.

It was a strategy that had worked flawlessly.

Until now.

It was not ... inconceivable that Orochimaru had developed a significant resistance to various poisons throughout his career, but against Sasori's complete arsenal ?

Impossible.

Despite having trained and worked together for years neither of them had ever revealed their complete skill sets. Oh, they reveal some; it was necessary to work together after all. But apart from several combination attacks to overwhelm multiple jounin opponents and their own 'observations' of each other, nobody in the Akatsuki had a complete picture of each others abilities.

It had taken just over half an hour of intense fighting before Sasori had been able to initiate his endgame. Re-tasking several puppets, they began to barrage Orochimaru from several directions at once. As expected, the snake summoner retreated from the kill zone even as he released an S-rank fire jutsu that consumed not only Sasori's puppets but several of his own minions who had rushed to his aid. Due to the vast amount of chakra he was streaming across the field, his course of movement was fixed.

A sitting duck just ripe for the plucking...

... and damn if Sasori did not already have his favourite close range puppet, Akiko, in position ready for this very moment. Armed with a blade coated in No Step Poison; the most potent toxin Sasori had ever created and refined; named quite literally for killing its victim before they had taken even a single step; people died before they hit to the ground.

But most importantly, a poison which Sasori had employed twice in his life. There could no resistance against this.

Bursting out of the ground, it was on top of Orochimaru before he could cancel the esoteric fire jutsu; the man was pitifully weak at close range.

An overpowered downward slash 'disarmed' Orochimaru of his annoying Kusanagi and caused the puppet to stumble.

Two deft steps and then another changed the awkward stumble of the intial slash into controlled corkscrew spin as the puppet diverted the blade's downward momentum into a sweeping arc that bisected the legs at his kneecaps. Coming out of its spin, the puppet drew back the rising blade, edge upwards, and stabbed the falling torso, through Orochimaru's outstretched palm, nicking the ribs and missing his heart by millimeters.

A quick pull, strike with the elbow, and the left lung was punctured even as the one armed torso was flung away to be riddled with kunai, shuriken and senbon before being skewered by three more blades wielded by two more close range puppets. The first ran its two blades through Orochimaru's stomach releasing the acid there onto the other internal organs. The second had drove its chokuto through the soft tissue of the throat and into the the brain pan.

So confident was Sasori that he actually emerged from his hidden position despite the ongoing battle between his other puppets and the Snake Sannin's minions who were unaware of his demise and their own impending doom.

Approaching Orochimaru's corpse, he relished the look of fear on Orochimaru's waxen face; the lone kunai buried to the hilt amongst the mish mash of bone and cartilage making up the broken nose not withstanding.

A pity.

Sasori did everything in his power so that his puppets could retain their 'life' looks; it was the little details like that which really plucked at the heartstrings of allies and enemies alike.

Still, nothing a little reconstructive surgery could not fix. 'Ah, there is the arm.' Sasori absentmindedly used a puppet to behead an approaching kunoichi. 'now where are his feet...'

Only through his puppet vision and the enhanced reflexes of his puppet shell did Sasori avoid the Kusanagi racing at his back, which pierced and shattered Hiruko's head as it sped through the shell straight into and through Akiko before turning sideways and elongating in the air so it severed his two other close range puppets in a cleaver motion.

Sasori recovered just in time to watch the jaws of Orochimaru's corpse grossly distend. First long fingers and then whole hands which forced the distended jaws even further apart with no sign of either the jawbone or skin breaking; the snake summoner arose once more, covered in fluids and seemingly unharmed. A nasty grin on his face.

"Ku ku ku ku. How exciting to finally meet you, Sasori-san." Rasped Orochimaru smugly. "I have been just dying to meet you. " His tongue darted out, snakelike, as if testing the air. "Something... smells good." Orochimaru's hands were blazing through seals.

A coffin was rising out of the ground.

Sasori had never been so shocked in his entire life. In those three seconds alone, he had lost thirty seven puppets due to his inability to command them. Their sudden 'deaths' spurred him out of his dazed state and into a furious counter offensive.

Orochimaru was immune. This should not have been possible. As a being made of flesh and blood, that accursed man should have been dead a thousand times over. Forget his unnatural resistance or immunity or whatever. Orochimaru had just resurrected himself.

Resurrected. Himself.

Whatever he was, Orochimaru clearly was no longer human.

As if to vindicate his current train of thought, the newly arisen coffin had promptly opened. Out of the darkness, a corpse appeared.

For a second, Sasori swore felt his heart-box shudder.

It was a person whom he had seen only in history books, universally hailed as the greatest master of Genjutsu to have ever lived.

The Founding Father of Hidden Mist, the First Mizukage, Akimoto Kyousuke, stepped forwards out of the darkness.

When Orochimaru planted some sort seal on the back of the corpse's head, Sasori knew that he was finished. This was no longer about winning, Sasori's very life was in danger. The best he could hope for right was to merely survive.

To add insult to the injury, the demonic-looking cannon fodder on the field were highly resistant to his poisons as well. It had taken several minutes (above the norm) for the poison to even begin affecting them, allowing plenty of time to make an utter nuisance of themselves. Fighting the Snake Summoner one-on-one had been challenging enough by itself, so this had all but cemented the snake-sannin's victory. If Orochimaru or the Mizukage had known that Sasori had turned himself into a puppet, he would have likely died.

As it was, he had assumed that a surprise attack from his extended Kusanagi through Sasori's head had killed him when Sasori had been trapped in the Mizukage's 'Complete Hypnosis'.

What irony.

No matter, that fool would regret his sloppiness eventually, because Sasori would have his revenge, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

Sasori frowned once more and took a few minutes to center his mind. A process that usually took seconds and spoke volumes of the dangerous mental state he was in. Instead of vengeace, the question was, what should he do now, in the short term?

What were the facts on the ground?

He was unarmored and unarmed save for the Third Kazekage and himself along with the four elemental scrolls on his back. Fearsome though he may be, Sasori could not use himself in battle without risking the secret of his nature. That left him with one puppet to call on. What external resources did he have to command ?

Sasori could not return to Akatsuki or call on any of their assets. He had allowed his partner, the one that Leader had specifically instructed him to watch closely for treachery, to defect.

Worse still, he had not even an inkling of Orochimaru's plans to assassinate Itachi and harvest his eyes and had thus failed to warn the Uchiha and his partner Kisame, both of whom were recuperating from Orochimaru's attack in a Akatsuki base.

Leader was not very understanding of failure, even by Ame standards, which the rest of the world considered unduly harsh and Konoha publicly decried as barbaric; he was a hard man. Appearing before him with news of his defeat in the midst of Orochimaru's betrayal in this vulnerable state was a big no-no.

If he went back, there would be a firestorm of criticism; he was the Spymaster. How could he have been played so utterly? Such a concerted betrayal took resources and people. Either Sasori was inept or...

..or he had a hand in what happened. Sasori cursed out loud. Forget control and focus or that someone might hear him. Sasori bellowed in rage towards the heavens, scaring some nearby birds which had descended to feed on the rotting corpses.

That damned snake had infiltrated his network. His network, that he had over two decades crafting was now compromised. Doubtlessly the others would soon arrive at this conclusion as well. No matter what he said or did, the rest of them would always harbour doubts. Itachi, Kisame or one of the others could be 'slow' to arrive at his aid during a crucial juncture in battle or some mission. A Suna Kill Team might suddenly stumble across one of his safe houses just as he settled in to rest. And that was provided Leader did not torture Sasori to make him give up his spy-network before executing him for his failures.

Before he could even contemplate returning, Sasori needed to rearm and find some avenue to appease Leader for his fantastic error. Until then, it would be best if the Akatsuki dossiers listed him as killed in action. That meant he needed to cover his tracks and he had the perfect idea on how to begin.

Returning to his body double, Sasori took off the fake Akatsuki ring and replaced it with his own. Technically the ring was supposed to be impossible to remove; the Akatsuki were not an open club, but as Sasori did not have any flesh for mysterious jutsu by which the Ring was sealed to bind; he could remove it as he pleased. As far as he knew, not even Leader knew of this, so the setup should appear convincing.

Apart from himself and Zetsu, the others were kill and smash types, not investigators. Just to be safe though, he doused the double with a stream of potent acid before using the A-rank precusor to Orochimaru's earlier jutsu to mimic the burn patterns. There, that should convince whoever came looking that he was indeed dead.

Before leaving, he took a few other corpses from the field and sealed them away in a spare corpse storage scroll. If he was going to face Orochimaru again, he needed to understand what gave them their demonic appearances and the nature of their strange abilities which appeared akin to a bloodline limit of some sort.

Now all he needed was a place to lie low and resupply. His appearance should not be much of a problem; his blade wings could be sealed away in storage seals on his back and moderately heavy clothing could hide the other signs of his nature.

Sasori felt extremely vulnerable without his puppet armor but walking around in one would be far to distinctive if he wanted to remain inconspicuous. Normally his best bet for safety would have been his spy network (which had allowed him to remain a thousand steps ahead of the Suna Secret Police for years), but this was now fraught with perils as without his armor or puppets to call on a single instance of treachery could have him ended and who knew how many cells Orochimaru had managed to infect ? Of course, Leader would surely try to salvage his spy network for his own purposes as damage control for this disaster. He would have to thread carefully lest he alert either party to his presence.

Funds were not that much of a deal; he kept a large amount of various currencies and jewelry sealed away on his person which could be converted into local currency anywhere. Ostensibly this was to maintain his network through various bribes and payoffs; that Sasori maintained most of his network through mind control and brainwashing meant he could retain most of this money for himself.

Now that he had taken some action, Sasori felt more calm and collected. Now for the resources...

He was in the land of Fire so Konoha would be the nearest Hidden Village and a fairly cosmopolitan one at that, so his mannerisms and activities would not look out of place; it was the most civilian-friendly village of the Five, so he probably wouldn't be scrutinized too closely. It's governance was riddled with convoluted bureaucracies thanks to the Sandaime's policies, which was always a boon when you where trying to hide shady activities through paperwork; and as a bonus those same bureaucracies and policies had elevated Konoha to not only being the largest Major Village but also one of the richest with its booming trade that in turn ensured that he would have access to a wide range of raw materials and supplies which would not be ordinarily available otherwise. The local forests meant that there would be an ample supply of high quality wood for the construction once he got the necessary permits.

Yes, he would have no trouble getting all the perquisite material to rearm without raising too many eyebrows.

Besides, there were only a handful of his operatives in Konoha - it was after all, Jiraiya's home village, it would not be prudent to have too many pieces in motion lest his hand be detected - which also meant he could deal with them quickly if Orochimaru had managed to infect the cell and pin the blame on Jiraiya. If they turned out to be loyal, well, a bit of extra brainwashing would ensure they remained that way.

Yes. Konoha it is.

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The room was filled with piles of neatly stacked scrolls. All waiting for the Amekage's attention as the constant scratching of his pen while it danced across one missive or another filled the silence. Pein sensed the door to his office open as his chuunin guards escorted his agents in before leaving them and engaging the security seals. Rolling up the scroll, he bound it and dropped it one of the assorted tubes next to his desk which would shuttle it to the appropriate department.

Opening the next on his list, he quickly scanned its contents and began to compose his reply. "Report" he bid curtly without once looking up or ceasing the motion of his pen.

Zetsu took out a scroll and unfurled it before the desk and proceeded to unseal it's contents. The charred husk of a corpse and a pale hand covered in eldritch seals which ended at the severed wrist. Pein's own ring resonanted in the presence of it's Brother and Sister rings. Holding up another scroll, the White Zetsu said "We got all the toys!"

Pein stared impassively. No one actually knew what Sasori looked like beneath the armor puppet that he always wore, so it could be a trick of some sort. But he doubted it; the Puppeteer was dangerously attached to what should have been his tools and would have never willingly trashed his entire toy collection, no matter the goal.

"And Orochimaru?" asked Pein.

"I lost him along the Fire – Grass borders. When he realized I was following him he delibrately tripped a number of security measures which drew the attention of several border patrol teams from Konoha and Kusa respectively. There was a small skirmish and in the confusion he cut off his hand to prevent me tracking him further." The Black Zetsu answered.

The pen finally ceased it's monotonous scratching as Pein stood and looked out the window to give himself time to order his turbulent thoughts.

It had always been a possibility, of course, but he had counted on his member's reluctance to maim themselves. Orochimaru was the last person he's considered capable of it. After all, several hand-seals were now impossible to the Snake-Sannin, and thus a whole range of techniques as well. It was well known that mastering every jutsu in the world was Orochimaru's obsession. If he went this far, it meant…

…it meant that Orochimaru had found a way to render the injury irrelevant.

"Damage?" asked Pein forcefully.

"Orochimaru took a large corpus of research notes with him when he left," said Kakuzu, speaking for the first time since his arrival, "as well as several important researchers. Many projects will have to start over from scratch. Additionally, my people have reported irregularities at several network clearinghouses, we will know more once we complete the investigations."

Fortunately, Pein had already taken precautions against this happening. Having reservations against Orochimaru since day one, he had established parallel teams for all crucial projects. But that did not make up for losing some of his researchers or account for having to vet every team that the traitorous snake had come into contact with. Despite Orochimaru's calls to 'streamline' their finances, he had kept the Akatsuki account in several seperate locations. No, there was a more serious issue a hand…

"What about Sasori's spy network?"

The Zetsu's and Kakuzu looked at each other. Well, the Zetsu's looked at each other before coming to some inner accord and laying the blame squarely where it belonged; at Kakuzu's feet. The fact that Kakuzu himself hesitated for a moment told Pein immediately the situation was bad.

"It will be . . . difficult to assume control of Sasori's network without his guidance. Whatever means Sasori used to establish and maintain his network were lost along with him. Merely identifying the agents in question is proving to be a difficult and time-consuming process. Additionally, those agents I have contacted are almost without fail loyal to Sasori, not the Akatsuki. Significant efforts will have to be expended into making them accept us as their new employers. I will salvage what I can, but our Intelligence capabilities will be severely restricted for the foreseeable future."

Pein could not help but frown. This was a significant set-back. There was very few spymasters of Sasori's caliber that were not aligned with one of the Major Villages or Courts; none of the Powers that Be desired any form of competition and thus anything that even remotely resembled a threat was either exterminated or 'intergrated' to existing networks. Those spymasters who were still free lance charged exorbitant fees for their services. Somehow, Sasori had been able to maintain a spy network as extensive as that of a major ninja village (all the while without alerting them to his presence), for a quarter of the cost – a feat that not even Pein could replicate.

"That is all. Leave now." He said curtly.

Pein listened absentmindedly to their receding footsteps as he thought about his next course of action. This changed everything; first and foremost he would have clean house, starting with every team that Orochimaru had ever come into contact with along with all their associates. Secondly, for such a plan to come to have come together Orochimaru had to have had help which meant that he had somehow compromised Sasori's network to a degree and was even now using those agents and funds to set himself up. Worse still, without Sasori, his Village and by extension, the Akatsuki, would be flying blind and this would seriously gum up several of his long term plans and endanger his policies. Not to mention the immediate danger it posed to all ongoing operations and future missions.

Pein's hands clenched; that was not even the worse of it.

A spy network was used for more than just infomation gathering, it also served as counter-intelligence. Being a shield as much as a sword; as far as the Major Villages were concerned, Ame was still ruled by Hanzo (who had been dead for over a decade), the hiccup of civil war within Ame had been averted by Hanzo's swift action to eliminate the Akatsuki (which was now reformed and stronger than ever) and that nobody apart from another Major Village was showing undue interest in the various jinchūriki.

If they were to ever awake from their dream that Ame was divided and that Hanzo paranoid delusions still shaped policy then...

..then problems as numerous as the rain would fall swiftly.

For all their posturing, Ame was the unofficial Sixth Major Village and Hanzo for all purposes unofficial, the Amekage. News of his death and the possibility of a stronger Hidden Rain, one with the backing of a united Land of Rain would would rock the Shinobi world to it's core and certainly spark the Fourth Shinobi World War.

Finally having ordered his mind, Pein sat down again and took a blank scroll from a drawer of his desk. He was going to require Emergency Powers for this. Even as he set pen to paper he contacted the other Akatsuki agents through his ring and mentally sent them his commands and mission parameters while stressing that it took top priority. As he was transmitting his orders, he directed a tendril of thought towards his partner who was overseeing the defense of Ame's borders together with the Preta and Asura Paths.

As the Deva Path took charge of the Intelligence blackout from Ame, the Asura and Preta Paths worked with Konan to initiate the protocols that would send the Land of Rain into total lockdown.

Across the Elemental Countries, several people immediately stopped what they had been doing and stood still for a moment before each moving to their new tasks.

Within his life support pod, Nagato frowned as he considered the events so far. This was not enough to stop him, not by a long shot, but it was nonetheless aggravating to face such a hurdle. Orochimaru would have to be made an example of. Once the new spy network was up and running he would find out everything he could about Orochimaru's bases and research facilities… and God would descend from the Heavens and pass His judgment upon them.

Personally.

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"It… it is a pleasure to have you here, Sasori-sama."

Yakushi Kabuto couldn't help but stare at the red-headed teenager sitting in front of him. There was no way, absolutely no way, that the terrifying and merciless Sasori of the Red Sand, before whom Kabuto had trembled in fear as a child, could be this… young! It went against some basic facts about Sasori that Kabuto knew about. The teenager in front of him was at most 16, and probably younger. Physically younger than Kabuto, in any case.

Oblivious to Kabuto's doubts, the boy that claimed to be Sasori did not even deign to look up from the documents he was studying.

That at least was Sasori-like.

Looking at the boy's face, Kabuto could not see so much as a hint of emotion, despite being exceptionally skilled at reading people. There were no unconscious ticks, frowns or lip-pursing, not once had his eyes wandered. No sweat despite the coat and heavy robes on this hot day. Even his breathing pattern remained the same since their intial meeting. The boy's face was as lifeless as… as…

Oh.

Oh, wow.

Oh, wow.

OH, WO -

Oh, shit.

Sasori was staring straight at him.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Sasori.

"No, no, everything is fine Sasori-sama," replied Kabuto cheerfully. "I just realized something, that is all. Is the information I gathered satisfactory?"

"It is adequate," replied Sasori, finally deigning to look Kabuto in the eyes. "Now… can I trust you Kabuto?"

Kabuto had to resist the urge to sigh. Over his long career as a spy he had developed some pet peeves about the inanities of his profession; number two was the 'Can I trust you ?' question and its variants. Either you trusted someone or you did not. Any fool would answer 'Yes' to such a question; saying 'No' would have him (or any spy for that matter) dead before they managed to make it to the men's room.

"Always, Sasori-sama," said Kabuto seriously.

"Up until recently," began Sasori, "I had been a member of a certain organization called Akatsuki. I worked in a two-man cell with a man called Orochimaru."

"Of the Leaf?" asked a wide eyed Kabuto despite having learnt this particular tibbit from Orochimaru, of all people, years ago.

"Of the Leaf," confirmed Sasori. "Originally, I ordered you to advance your medic-nin training so that you could infiltrate Orochimaru's inner circle. He is always looking for capable medic-nins willing to participate in his experiments and research. However, I longer require updates or information about Orochimaru. I intend to destroy him."

Kabuto could read between the lines – he was a spy, after all – Orochimaru had somehow humiliated Sasori badly and now the puppeteer wanted revenge. Not that Kabuto was complaining.

While he wasn't the squeamish type (one could not let anything get in the way of knowledge), his research into Orochimaru's history and the subsequent file he had pieced together based on that infomation had hinted at some very disturbing things.

Besides, if Orochimaru had somehow beaten Sasori, then obviously he was not ready to deal with a monster like Orochimaru. Yet. He would have tread more carefully in his dealings with him. Wait...if Sasori had been involved in a fight with the Snake Sannin, there would be a chance that Orochimaru was weakened.

Yes.

Recuperating in some hidden base, Kabuto would appear to offer his services as a loyal subordinate with healing and information on Sasori...he would be able to get close. Close enough to finally assassinate Orochimaru.

A body like that, having undergone who know how many experiments and enhancements under various kinjutsu would be a great boon to him and his research. Better yet, if he could arrange it so Orochimaru and Sasori fought again...he could gain Sasori's corpse; if the term could even still be applied to him. Now that would be something. He already had a dozen different theories pointing in twice as many directions in his head about Sasori. First things first though...

"As far as everyone is concerned, I'm dead," continued Sasori obliviously while Kabuto struggled to appear attentive despite the maelstrom of thoughts in the forefront of his mind.

"And I'd like it to stay that way. I have much in the way of preparations before I can make my move, perhaps years, so I will make Konoha my temporary base of operations till then. You, on the other hand, will have a task of your own to accomplish."

It appeared that Sasori was significantly weakened. Kabuto decided to stick with the original plan and assassinate Orochimaru by himself before moving on Sasori at some later date if it truly took that much time for Sasori to recuperate. Yes, things were more time sensitive with Orochimaru. Soon, he would have both their corpses on his table. It was becoming increasingly difficult not to smile at his good fortune.

Sasori took out a scroll and placed it on the desk in front of Kabuto.

"This scroll contains two corpses of Orochimaru's underlings," said Sasori. "They seemed to have abilities reminiscent of a bloodline limit. I want you to use your medical knowledge and tell me everything you can about them. Do not fail me, Kabuto."

"I won't, Sasori-sama. I won't." Having worked with Orochimaru for years, Kabuto was familiar with the Cursed Seal; he had helped create it. Yes, an autopsy and some scribbled notes on the nature of the Cursed Seal along with a few juicy morsels hinting at its function would ensure his cover and keep Sasori preoccupied for a while; it would even provide him with a good cover story that would divert Orochimaru's attention while Kabuto healed him. Then while his focus was elsewhere...

All things considered, it would delay him two or three days but for appearances sake it was better if he remained here in Konoha. All he needed now was to shuffle a little paperwork in the Missions Department and...

"Very good, Kabuto" came Sasori's voice from behind him.

Before he could so much as twitch,a wave of pain exploded at the base of his skull and knocked the wind out of him. Amid the haze of pain, Kabuto felt his numb body stagger. Despite the unexpectedness, Kabuto had conditioned himself for pain. He managed to palm a kunai with a short fuse explosive tag as he fell and prepared switch with a earth clone he had made before arriving. Focusing, Kabuto felt his chakra rise...

...and slip through his grasp like air. A rising sense of alarm was quickly gripping his mind. His breathing was becoming erratic and his whole body felt like it was burning up even as he felt the chill cut into his flesh and bone like a hundred knives.

Kabuto tried to roll to the side but it was as if his whole body was encased in mud. His fingers and arms seemed to be made of lead. The room began to swirl and warped into an never ending cascade of dancing lights and flowering gloom simultaneously. Over the sudden ringing in his ears, Kabuto heard a the tell tale slide of kunai in wood followed by a soft tut tut tut by Sasori as he carefully removed the kunai from Kabuto's nerveless fingers. His inner ear told him he was currently falling despite the fact that he could feel the freezing wooden floor through his cheek. His mouth and throat felt parched and blocked as if stuffed with cotton wool. His lungs were screaming for air. The faintest prick on his neck took his sense of touch and stopped the tremors. For a moment, he was sure he could smell hazelnuts before even that vanished. Finally darkness engulfed his mind.

Kabuto knew no more.

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Uzumaki Naruto walked aimlessly through the streets of Konoha, his bright orange jumpsuit shining brightly as it reflected the rays of the midday sun. This in itself was nothing unusual - Naruto often walked aimlessly through Konoha. His tiny apartment was really just a place to sleep over and stash what few belongings he had so he was always outside if he could help it. No, the unusual part was that he was frowning.

He wasn't really unhappy, just bored. It was a beautiful sunny day and he didn't have to go to the academy today, which usually meant a fun day for him. But not today, he had already performed every prank he could think of and, well, that's as far as his ideas to pass the time went. Oh, he could whip out some lame prank in an eye-blink, but that was below him. No, a true master of pranks like him did not go for quantity – if he was going to prank someone it was going to be unique, unexpected, and absolutely hilarious. But he currently had nothing that fit that description. He briefly toyed with the idea of searching out for Sakura-chan, but she was particularly angry yesterday, so he decided to give her some space for a while. At least until tomorrow. Wasn't that considerate? Certainly more than Asshole Sasuke. Anyway, now he was thinking about what to do with himself. 'The frown' he was wearing was what people who knew him a little better, few as they were, referred to as his 'thinking expression'. Evidently he found the activity painful.

And so, with his face firmly pointed towards the ground, his eyes squinting and his hands in his pockets, Naruto rounded a corner and collided with a red haired teenager who was carrying a stack of wooden boards and other supplies that obstructed his vision. Both of them collapsed on their backs, and Naruto yelped as some of the boards fell on him.

Naruto scrambled up in the blink of an eye, surveying the situation. The youth was already up and dusting himself off his dark coat, a green and white striped bucket hat in his left hand, so no damage done. That was good, because Naruto just knew it would be his fault if the older boy was injured in the accident. His satisfaction deflated a little when he noticed a spilled can of brown paint nearby. The other boy also surveyed the situation, not sparing a single glance on Naruto.

"Well crap," the boy mumbled under his breath, no doubt thinking Naruto couldn't hear him. Over the years Naruto had noticed he had a lot better hearing than most people, but that was something he kept to himself. It's amazing what one could find out when people think you can't hear them whispering from the other side of the room. Hell, listening in on conversations was the main way he found out anything!

"Um…" Naruto began. "Sorry about that. I wasn't thinking and wasn't paying attention." A safe answer that had saved him from many a lecture from the Old Man.

The red-head shook his head dismissively, still not looking at Naruto, and began picking up boards. Naruto's blood began to boil – if there was one thing he hated it was being ignored. People looking right through you. He started picking up boards to help the other boy while trying look him in the eye along the way. When that didn't work he started talking.

"Hey Red, what are you doing with these things anyway?" asked Naruto as he handed the last of the boards to the other boy.

"I'm opening a new shop in Konoha," the other boy said evenly, still not having met his eyes. "The building was in pretty bad shape so I was going to change some floorboards and repaint the place."

"Oh," said Naruto staring at the red head. He was well, he was not much bigger than some of the boys he knew, how old was he anyway? "What kind of shop is it anyway?"

"Ninja supplies." commented the boy as he stacked the boards.

"Really! You know, I'm studying to become a ninja!" said Naruto proudly.

"You don't say," the older boy said serenely. "I thought ninja are supposed to be aware of their surroundings at all times."

"What do you…" Naruto stopped when he remembered colliding with the other boy just a few moments ago. "Ah, that. That was a one-time thing. I'm pretty awesome actually. Just you watch, I'm going to be Hokage in a few years, the best Hokage in the history of Konoha in fact, or my name isn't Uzumaki Naruto! Believe it!"

The red head finally deigned to look Naruto in the eyes. The older boy had the most serene expression Naruto had seen in a long time, and Naruto had to fight the urge to look away from the soul-penetrating eyes boring into him.

In his life, Naruto only met three sorts of people: those who clearly disliked him and were constantly putting him down; people who were uncomfortable around him, like he was going to swallow them whole if they take their eyes off of him; and people who were friendly and supportive his dream. The red-head before him was none of those things – his face portrayed a sort of calm confidence that told Naruto he didn't mean a damn thing to the older boy, one way or another.

It was a novel and unsettling feeling.

"That is a pretty grandiose proclamation," the red-head said. "What exactly do you base this opinion on?"

"It's not an opinion!" protested Naruto, regaining his senses. "I am going to be the next Hokage and that's that!"

"Oh," said the red-head calmly. "So its just unsubstantiated bullshit."

The sentence was delivered in such a matter of fact tone that Naruto was left actually speechless for a second. Sure some of the older boys used 'bad words' but the way this boy said it in front of him was so demeaning.

Naruto got angry.

"Shut up!" he yelled. "You don't know anything!"

"I know that you make assertions with no proof to back them up, insisting that your feelings on the matter should trump any amount of facts or common sense to the contrary. If you can not present your point of view any better than that, than why should I believe you?" Even under the shadow cast by the bucket hat, Naruto could see the older boy's eyebrow rise.

"When I become Hokage, you'll be sorry for mocking my dream!" tried Naruto again. "You'll be sorry! Everyone will have to admit they were wrong about me and acknowledge me as… what the hell is so funny!" The older boy was laughing. Not just that, it was a deep belly laugh as if he found his dream hillarious.

Naruto was fuming. He didn't know what it was about the red headed teenager that made his teeth grind, seeing how he had his dream dismissed by plenty of people before, but something about his tone and manner of speaking just made him want to punch the guy in the face! And now the way he was laughing was just so annoying!

The red-head finally schooled his expression again. "You really are delusional, aren't you? It takes more than a high position in the official hierarchy to earn people's respect. A Kage is instated into the position because they are respected, not the other way around. You're just a loud brat who talks big. You could proclaim yourself the Shogun of the Elemental Nations and nobody would give a damn."

"Oh yeah! Well you're just a stupid civilian who don't know greatness when he sees it!" screamed Naruto. "I'm going to become Hokage and nothing is going to stop me! So there! What do you say now, huh!"

People around them didn't even stop to stare, going about their lives as if this was a regular occurrence.

And it was.

Naruto had to admit it wasn't the first time he yelled something like that in the middle of the street. The red headed teen, however, didn't scoff or sneer at Naruto, or react in a way that the blonde would expect. He didn't commend him on his 'Will of Fire' like the Old Man would, or wave him off out of annoyance like most civilians. Instead his face suddenly got completely and utterly serious.

"You are such a petulant child," the red head said calmly and then having picked up the boards, simply turned and went on his way, leaving Naruto behind with the empty can of brown paint.

Naruto had heard a lot of insults in his life. He had been called a failure, an idiot, a no-good brat that would never amount to anything, a dope, the dead-last, trash, a public disturbance, and much worse. And yet, none of those affected him the way this simple sentence did. There was no trace of anger in the other boy's voice as he said them, no underlying sense of superiority: it was as if the other boy truly believed Naruto deserved to be told this.

Naruto stared at the can of spilled paint the red-head left behind for a full minute before continuing his aimless wandering, this time with a real frown on his face.

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Naruto sat on a swing in one of the many small parks that dotted Konoha, half - heartedly pushing himself from time to time. There was nobody there except him, as everyone had left when he arrived, so the only sound that could be heard was quiet creaking of the swing. It would have probably been a rather eerie scene if he was not used to it by now. In fact, he chose this specific swing precisely because it creaked.

Ever since he was a child he found the silence terrifying. His ears picked up all sorts of creepy sounds when things were quiet. People often spoke mean things to him when he passed by them in an empty street, thinking he could not hear them, and then denied they did any such thing when he called them on it. Sometimes, when things were particularly quiet, he could even hear the soft footsteps of Invisible People behind and around him, hiding in the trees and rooftops. It was only years later that he understood that he wasn't imagining things and that he simply had better ears than other people.

The 'Invisible People' turned out to be ANBU that followed him around for some reason when he was a child. He would occasionally catch glimpses of their stark white masks, with their animal faces and huge black eyes, and it terrified him. These 'evil spirits' haunted his childhood nightmares every time he closed his eyes, and it was years before he found out they were just ninja sent to protect him. Even today, he still resented the Old Man somewhat for not telling him about that, and for laughing at him when a particular encounter with ANBU scared him to tears.

Jerk.

In any case, he was no longer terrified of silence, but he didn't like it. In silence, there was little to do but think, and Naruto didn't really want to think. Thinking inevitably led to an awful lot of questions that nobody really wanted to answer. There was not much point to it, really – the way to succeed was to ignore all who wanted to bring him down and press on regardless of what their arguments were. 'The Will of Fire', as the Old Man would put it. Thinking just made you depressed and cranky. So whenever there was something bothering him, he would come to the swing. The rhythmic creaking sound soothed him, allowing him to focus on the creaking instead of pointlessly dwelling on his problems. Its not like thinking about problems sovled them, you needed to go on.

He glanced at the surrounding playground. When he first came here, there had been a gaggle of children playing there, but they wanted nothing to do with him, and soon left. Naruto wasn't really bothered – they were stupid anyway. 'Playing Ninja', yeah right… he was going to be a real ninja, so there. It's just that he couldn't help but overhear one boy telling the others that his mother told him to stay away from Naruto, 'because he was dangerous'. It reminded him of his time at the orphanage, when he would overhear other children spreading all sort of trash about him behind his back. It made him so…

He clenched the chains tighter in his hands and pushed himself more firmly off the ground. As the creaking got louder and the wind started hitting his face, Naruto could feel his anger abating and his thought shifting elsewhere. It did not matter. None of it mattered. He was going to become Hokage and marry Sakura-chan, and no one will speak such lies about him again.

'You're such a petulant child.'

He pressed his feet firmly into the ground and the swing came to a swift halt.

"This sucks," stated Naruto to no one in particular.

This was all the red-head's fault. If he had not made fun of his dream like that, he would not be depressed in the first place, and he would not give a damn what a bunch of brats think about him. Suddenly his face split into a devious smile and he began chuckling to himself. Hehehe. Didn't the guy said he was opening a new shop? And he needed it painted too? Too bad that paint can got spilt.

Well… surely Naruto could help out a bit in that regard.

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It was evening by the time Sasori managed to free himself from his work and return came to his shop, only to find the blonde boy from earlier that day painting his shop in pink and yellow flowers. Pink. Yellow. Flowers. Sasori HATED flowers – such transitory things, wilting away after just a few days – but the real issue was that flowery background was not something that any self-respecting ninja supply shop would use. Which was the whole point behind the kid's activities, he supposed.

As stealthily as he could, Sasori approached the blonde until he was right behind him. It was surprisingly difficult, actually. The boy had good hearing.

"What do you think you're doing to my shop?"

The boy jumped in surprise. Jumped and dropped his brush, but did not make a single sound. Instead he spun around with speed that surprised Sasori, staring bug-eyed at the puppet master with a stunned 'what the hell' expression on his face. Sasori's face was carefully twisted into an expression of mild irritation at the childish act of vandalism the blonde was inflicting upon him.

"Err… I'm… helping you out! Yeah! You did said you need to paint the shop so I thought…"

Sasori stared at the blonde in silence. Did he look that stupid to the kid? No one would believe such a transparent lie. He waited for a while for the blonde to state something else, but boy just started chuckling and rubbing the back of his head nervously, before quickly scooping up his brush and putting it behind his back, as if doing so would hide his involvement at the shop's sudden flower motif. He looked ready to bolt at the first sign of danger, but Sasori had no intention of wasting his time by chasing a little kid around like an idiot.

"That's such a pathetic lie," Sasori said finally. "After having been caught red-handed, you can not even admit as much and apologize like a responsible individual. Earlier today you told me you wanted people's respect, and then you do something like this?" He gestured towards the garish flower motif.

"But…" the blonde protested weakly, clearly not expecting this kind of interaction. Sasori supposed that curses and threats of physical violence were common responses to something like this, but Sasori would never stoop to the level of swearing and he didn't do threats – he killed. The kid wasn't quite at the point where Sasori wanted to skewer him without warning and dump his corpse into a nearby river, but he was getting there.

"But what?" Sasori said. "You just vandalized my place. You're not getting any respect that way."

"Vandalism!" protested Naruto indignantly. "This is art, man!"

Sasori struggled to keep his temper in check and failed, lowering his face in a threatening manner. The gesture caused the boy to take a step back and take in all available escape routes. Sasori was actually impressed at the reaction, and idly wondered what kind of life the kid lived if he already had an instinct like that.

"Art?" Sasori asked in a deceptively friendly tone, his eyes boring into boy's, daring him to repeat what he just said.

"Y-yeah," the boy answered. He swallowed heavily, clearly trying to summon his courage. "It takes a lot of skill and effort to do something like this! I had to evade the patrols and find the time to finish painting the place; bring enough paint and correct brushes and not be slowed down by everything I carried; fit all the materials within my budget; paint everything in less than an hour; lots of things. And look how cool the flowers are! That takes skill! Besides, your shop is called Eternal Beauty, and aren't flowers beautiful?" he finished lamely.

It… made some twisted sort of sense. No doubt organizing something like this took a non-trivial amount of effort, and the boy clearly cared about his workmanship enough to argue (feebly) with the man whose property he just vandalized. Still, flowers were NOT beautiful and at the heart of things this was just a childish prank, superbly executed or not, Sasori was not going to encourage it.

"Yes, I bet your parents would be real proud of you," Sasori said.

"My parents are dead," the boy said angrily.

"So are mine," Sasori shot back. "The point remains."

The blonde grunted and backed off. Which was good, because Sasori never had much patience with the 'lack of parents' excuse. And it wasn't because Sasori lost his parents too, either – it's just that Sasori had lived long enough to see plenty of people whose lives were, to borrow a phrase he overheard a few days ago, 'utter suck-age'. There were far, far worse fates in the world than losing ones parents was. Did he think he was worse off that the young boys sold into slavery or the starving children of the remote villages where they lived hand to mouth for their entire lives?

"It was a prank, okay?" said Naruto quietly. "It's what I do. I prank people. I thought everyone knew that."

Sasori cocked his head to the side in a curious expression, like a bird studying a shiny object. The child was baffling, and Sasori did not like things he didn't understand. He liked to examine them until they make sense, vivisect them if he had to.

Fortunately for the boy, verbal answers should be sufficient in this case.

"Why do you prank people?"

"I…" begun the boy. "It's fun. I make people laugh... sometimes."

"Really?" Sasori responded. "For a moment I thought it was revenge for disagreeing with you when you ran into me earlier."

The blonde looked down into the ground. "You were making fun of me," he protested weakly.

"Actually I was just being dismissive," Sasori said. "I assure you I derived no 'fun' from berating you. I was just annoyed that some random kid ran into me, spouted a whole lot of nonsense without so much as a word of prompting from me, and then behaved like a spoiled child when I objected to his claims."

"I am not spoiled!" said the boy, voice rising and a frown on his face. "Or petulant either!"

"You love to brag, you are easily offended, and you take things personally when there is no need to. That's not what a mature person behaves like."

"But you dismissed my dream without thinking! Why is it impossible for me to become Hokage, huh!"

"I never said it was impossible," said Sasori with annoying patience, "but you'll need to earn people's respect first before you're even considered for the position. That is no easy feat, and you are years, probably decades away from being a viable candidate. Pronouncing your intention to become Hokage to an absolute stranger, without prompting, makes you seem conceited. It would paint just about anyone in bad light, but especially someone like you – a little kid who isn't even a out of academy yet."

The boy shuffled in place uncomfortably, clearly at loss for a response.

"I will not give up!"

"Good for you," Sasori said flatly. "Now get lost before I report you for this… art… of yours."

Sasori watched the kid as he ran into the night. The child had piqued his interest. From their exchange, and people's reactions, he got the notion that the blonde was infamous somehow, yet he had no knowledge of him. He always hated being in the dark of things, so perhaps a small information gathering endeavor is in order. He needed some time to clear his head, anyway, and how hard should it be to shadow someone like that kid or milk a few shopkeepers for info? Probably take half an hour. Tops.

Uzumaki Naruto, wasn't it?

He glanced at his shop. No way was he scrubbing off all that paint. This was the sort of thing for breaking in rookie genin – he'd just post a D-rank with the Mission Department.

Yes, Sasori had a petulant side too.

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Ichiraku's Ramen Stand was Naruto's sanctuary. If there was any place he considered home, it would be that little stand, with it's delicious aroma of ramen wafting through the air, the pleasant attitude of old man Teuchi, and the friendly conversations with Ayame. When possible, he would time his visits so that he would be the only costumer and pretended in his mind that they were a family of sorts.

"So what's on your mind?" Ayame asked, arms crossed on the countertop as she leaned across it.

"Nothing," said Naruto. "Why?"

"You seem upset."

Naruto concentrated on his ramen bowl for a moment to buy time. It had been three days and he couldn't stop thinking about the red-headed shop owner. What was the deal with that guy, anyway? The guy just didn't make sense.

He shook his head, banishing the thought. He came here to get his mind off the guy!

Originally he wanted to talk to the Old Man, since the he always seemed to have an answer to all Naruto's questions, but he was too busy this week to meet with Naruto. It was probably for the best – why should he bother Old Man because of what some random shop keeper told him? It was nothing. He had heard a hundred insults from a hundred different shop keepers. It was nothing.

Only, there was something strange and unnerving about the red-head, something that made his remarks strike deeper than they should, but Naruto couldn't pin-point it. In fact, he… Damn it, he was thinking about him again! What the hell!

"Just people putting me down again," Naruto said. "I'll be alright in a couple of days."

"Don't worry Naruto, you'll show them all one day," Ayame said and smiled.

Naruto grinned. He knew she was saying just to make him feel better, but he still appreciated it. "Damn right they will. It's just gets me down every now and then, but I can handle it. Uzumaki Naruto can't be defeated that easily!"

He talked with Ayame for a while, with the old man Teuchi occasionally dropping into the conversation to deliver some of his own advice. They were supportive, like always, and Naruto soon found himself in a good mood again. He wished he could afford to come here every day… or better yet, that he had someone like this waiting for him when he came back to his apartment. Instead, the only think that waiting for him there was silence.

But he couldn't think like that. At least the apartment was ten times better than the orphanage had been. At least the apartment was warm and dry, unlike the alleys he'd slept in for that night after he ran away from the orphanage.

At least if he had a nightmare there, nobody would bug him or make fun of him about it.

He finished his last bowl, paid for his meal, and waved the Ichiraku's goodbye. He knew it was about time to close down the stand, even if neither Teuchi or Ayame came out and tell Naruto to get lost so they can go home. They were too nice for that, but Naruto didn't want to inconvenience them.

He didn't really want to inconvenience anyone. So why did so many people go out of their way to inconvenience him ? One more question that had no answer and was pointless to think about.

He walked the streets without really paying attention, every nook and cranny of the village already memorized. After a ten minute walk he reached his destination: a small mixed goods store that was about to close soon. Good, his timing was perfect.

He pushed the door and walked in without sparing a second glance to the cashier. Sometimes the store owners gave him trouble, but never when he came in a five minutes before closing. Nobody wanted to talk trash or argue when they could just grit their teeth, play along, and go home for the day already. He scanned the shelves quickly, taking things that looked safe.

Buying food in stores was always a gamble - every once in a while he would get terrible stomach pains and fevers after eating food he bought from them. It wasn't consistent, so he couldn't really accuse them of trying to poison him intentionally… but the fact remained that buying anything that could be easily tampered with had cost him dearly plenty of times. On top of this, he had to keep in mind that electricity went out randomly in his apartment for hours at the time, so any food he left in the freezer tended to get spoiled if it was perishable. Fire country wasn't named such for nothing, and all that heat did very bad things to any meat or dairy products every time he would get an outage.

As a consequence he only bought factory-packed, hermetically sealed products that could withstand the heat well. Instant soups and ramen were the core of his diet, supplemented be milk and an occasional basket of fruit the Old Man had people bring him.

And besides… he didn't really know how to prepare anything more complex than instant ramen or soup and the instructions on the other stuff were always really tiny and used all sorts of funny words that Naruto didn't understand.

As he exited the store and started walking home he heard a sound to his left and stiffened momentarily before looking around. All day now he has been hearing things, like someone was stalking him, but the sounds were too sporadic for that. It was like being a kid all over again.

He shrugged and continued on. If not the invisible people then just a cat or something.

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It had been a week since Sasori had started shadowing Uzumaki Naruto, and admittedly the blonde was more than he'd expected. Some discrete inquiries made to the other shopkeepers, a few loose lips in the backrooms of bars plus a little coin to grease the wheels of industry with alcohol and he discovered the Kyuubi Jinchuuriki!

Which would have been interesting enough in itself, but the boy himself lived a life an interesting life as befited his status as the container of the nine-tailed fox; with a penchant for immature pranks, transforming into a beautiful woman and what seemed to be the luck of the Seven Gods of Fortune themselves – considering the fact that no one outside Konoha (and only the older generation within it) seemed to know of his status which went a long way against assassination or kidnapping attempts.

Not that having the hand of the Hokage over him hurt. Which raised over a thousand different questions about the Jinchuriki's relationship with the aging Hokage. Had not the Hokage's wife died in the Kyuubi attack?

That man had actually spoken out and forbidden attempts to militarize the boy; no being locked away in a secret facility and bombarded with conditioning genjutsu and training to shape him into a weapon. No being sealed into a permanent dream state in some underground bunker and hooked up to a life support system to delay the Kyuubi's rebirth. No marriage contracts or 'playmates' to court and manipulate him – building all the while, feelings of loyalty, love and of course, self sacrifice – on behalf of Konoha and its Clans.

Sasori was impressed. Despite the many interest groups and forces at play, the Hokage had deftly navigated that nightmare and ensured that the boy had a normal as possible life, considering the circumstances. That alone spoke volumes about Sarutobi's political skill and the loyalty accorded him by both civilians and shinobi alike.

Such a position had a way of making even the most cautious men careless, but not Sarutobi, who, once having solidified his support, created and instated a law forbidding anyone from revealing the secret of the Kyuubi to Naruto, disallowing retaliation against him for any blood debt arising from the the Kyuubi Attack, from persecution due to his status as the Kyuubi Jinchuriki - it continued along this vein for another fifty pages.

And Sandaime's law was no paper tiger.

The genjutsu and truth serum combination he used on the merchant was weak, but it had got the job done before killing him in his sleep.

About seven years ago, two respected Hyuuga clan elders, in collusion with one of the Council - no one knew who, but the plan could not have proceeded without their knowledge - had made attempted to get close to the Jinchuriki and instill ideas of sacrifice, love and loyalty to the Village...

...along with the Hyuuga Cursed Seal.

Attempted.

The branch members who had approached Naruto encountered a small snag in their plans - 'Naruto' turned out to be the Hokage's chief of security, Itakura Mariko, who had an ANBU team on stand-by. Even as they recoiled in surprised, the jounin trapped them within a genjutsu that left them paralyzed but fully cognizant of their surroundings.

Their wrists were shattered, ankles broken, mouths gagged and their eyes sealed before being bound and taken away.

Within the hour, the Hokage had issued arrest warrants. The two elders were kidnapped from within their rooms in the Hyuuga compound that night. The next morning, amidst the chaos, messengers arrived bearing missives waxed with the Hokage's Seal. All who knew the truth about the Jinchuriki were to attend.

When they had arrived, they were greeted by the sight of the bloodied bodies of the branch members, the two Elders and seven other co-conspirators. Morino Ibiki, the resident ghoul in the dungeons, had worked swiftly throughout the night to wring the names of others from their lips.

The Hokage himself handled the execution, and though their deaths were swift, each and everyone of them paid dearly - stripped of their assets and titles as they were publicly disgraced. At the end of it, he had turned his gaze to his councillors and asked, point blank, if anyone present found his law so burdensome that they must turn to treason.

Hyuuga Kyuushu, the – former - Lord Hyuuga had begged forgiveness from Sarutobi and offered his own life to expiate the stain on his Clan's honor. He split his belly, and died in that very hall, before some of the most powerful and influential people in Konoha

Elders Koharu and Homura did not escape Sarutobi's censure. Before ending the meeting, the Hokage had begun a spiel about how dire the times were and how important his fellow council members were to Konoha's continued survival and prosperity, thus, effective immediately, he was relieving their usual guards and replacing them with ANBU he had selected personally – to better protect them, of course – and who were to accompany them everywhere. If the Hokage even suspected them in the future, he would order their deaths, and their own bodyguards stood ready to deliver that sentence.

The message was clear. Secret meetings, whispered words, even letters could be weighted with treason and none would escape the Hokage's notice.

No one was exempt. Not the nobles. Not Council members.

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Sasori entered a small restaurant and perused the menu. His watcher across the street settled in at the magazine stand.

Fifteen minutes later as Sasori nursed his drink and flirted with the waitress, the watcher finally left and rejoined his patrol group. Just to be safe though, Sasori remained where he was for half an hour, getting a date at the art museum on saturday. While he had a smile on his face as he left, inwardly Sasori cursed. He had lost Naruto's trail and he had tipped his hand. That waitress had seemed...eager. What if she was part of that patrol group ? Even if she was not, there had been others in the cafe, all of whom had seen and heard him talking. What if one of them was part of Internal Affairs? Shit. Young men did not turn down dates from young women. That was one saturday blown.

What if the saturday meeting was a trap? Sasori had to make preliminary plans to leave the village, in which case, he needed to map out an exit strategy for art museum if it turned out to be some ploy they used to isolate him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Just avoiding being seen was a chore, since the boy had more than just good hearing - it was positively preternatural - and while Stealth was large part Sasori's specialty, it took constant effort to remain silent, unseen and most importantly, undetected as he shadowed the boy while avoiding the inevitable village patrols, the notice of the gossipy civilians and the random ninja simply going about their daily lifes. Had anyone discovered him, circumstances would rapidly become untenable.

That night, Sasori ghosted into the Academy and procured a copy of Naruto's academy records.

The boy was an utter failure – an atrociously bad student with an unhealthy obsession with his female classmate, utterly devoid of social intelligence and possessing of incredibly grating manner of speech. Naruto would cut classes which Sakura was not in or simply because he did not like the teachers. He took no notes during class and spent most of his class time staring at the object of his obsession rather than focusing on the lesson and wrote whatever he felt was the appropriate answer on the exercises.

When presented with a mathematical problem of a triangle along with the value of A and B and told to find the value of C, the boy had circled the C on the triangle and wrote 'Here it is!'. The instructor had not been amused.

Most people would say - and had said, in front of the boy sometimes - that the boy was hopeless.

Sasori wasn't most people and he saw potential. For Naruto...

The spars organized by the academy, as well as an occasional vivid report by one of the instructors, showed that the boy had excellent spur of the moment planning and often came up with unconventional, but effective - if risky - tactics. Clearly the blonde had a good grasp of strategy stuffed in his brain, could think on his feet and had some spatial intelligence.

Despite logistics and intricacy of his many pranks, the boy's apartment was as expected.

Doodle filled scrolls and dog eared comics sitting besides empty bowls and instant ramen cups. The pantry was packed with nine varieties of instant ramen along with some tinned meats and vegetables. Bowls were stacked on top of the pantry. The paint on the walls was cracked and peeling. A pile of clothes and more orange jumpsuits claimed a corner of his apartment where he kept his bed. His equipment was not properly stored or maintained.

Considering the complete disinterest the all of the academy instructors had for him, he could not blame the boy.

...and himself.

Sasori couldn't deny he was interested in Naruto. A small part of him sympathized with the boy's plight. He had the potential but a combination of immature pranks, laziness and resistance against anyone challenging his dream had just about driven everyone away from him. Sasori could count the boy's strings on one hand.

A burning ambition to become a Hokage - One.

Adore Haruno Sakura and hate Uchiha Sasuke - Two.

Talk with Teuchi and Ayame from Ichiraku's - Three.

Idolize the current Hokage, Sarutobi – Four.

Not even five, unless that spineless Hyuuga girl ever summoned up the courage to actually talk to her crush. Like that was ever going to happen.

What was the worse that could happen? Really. An innocent conversation here and there. Maybe he could find out something that could be of use once he returned to the Akatsuki. If he managed to kidnap the boy, he could hand him over to Itachi and Kisame and use him as the olive branch against their retribution. Better still, such a gift would be well received by Leader; acting as proof of Sasori's loyalty and dedication to the cause.

He would not have to do much; just talk to the kid. The boy was that emotionally starved.

Perhaps he could influence the jinchuriki and manipulate him and if not… well, it was not like he had lost much. Besides, Sasori had recruited hundreds of men and women over the years for his own purposes and it would not be the first time he had done so simply to burn them at a later date.

Naruto did not have anyone to help him, either in his calling as a ninja or in life. The few people he interacted with on positive terms were no more than acquaintances by standards of others. He had no one he could really go to if he had a problem, no true role model, no one he could reliably count on. The boy was willing to be scorned by others just for momentary attention afforded by his antics. Perfect material to be molded. He was positively desperate to find someone, anyone, who would not hate him or ignore him.

And Sasori was going to be that someone.

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"Happy birthday, Naruto."

Sarutobi suppressed a chuckle of amusement as Naruto grunted something vaguely like 'thank you' before continuing his assault on the Special-Super-Grand-Deluxe-Event ramen bowl. His birthday present; the boy was so easy to please. It made him feel bad for not devoting more time to the child, but he was swamped with obligations.

The Kyuubi attack had weakened the Village considerably and now this mess with the Uchiha. Both were massive blows to Konoha's power, leaving scars that would take time to heal. Other villages were constantly probing for weaknesses – the failed Hyuuga kidnapping - which even now was causing a massive diplomacy headache, and internal power-plays that threatened to blow out of control since the Hyuuga had been humiliated.

As if that had not been enough, he had learnt just three hours ago of yet another civil war in Ame; Hanzo's grip was slipping. Now there were skirmishes along all of its borders which included the Land of River, Earth, Wind, Grass and Fire. Communications from the Border Defense Groups were short and sporadic. Undoubtedly, there would be a hundred different interest groups bickering amongst each other in an attempt to fill the power vacuum created by this newest misfortune. The Council meeting tomorrow was surely shot to hell now. A two hour pissing contest while they tried to form a response. There would be teams that had to sent out to reinforce the BDG and then, oh joy, meeting with the diplomats from Grass, River, Earth and Wind before meeting and briefing the nobles and god forbid, His Excellency, the Lord of the Land of Fire.

He was forced to agree with Koharu's words when she had heard the news "One huge clusterfuck after another" - and Sarutobi was in charge of dealing with it.

Try as he might, he was just too busy to devote more time to his adoptive grandson.

The sun was still rising, yet he could already hear the distinctive whistle of fireworks in the distance. The tenth of October. An auspicious day and unofficially, the 'Yondaime Celebration Day'. Most businesses worked half a day. Fireworks, food, costumes and masks for children and the actors performing in the open air kabuki that night.

Sarutobi sighed. Another year come and gone without a successor. Ten years to the day he had begun to search. What a mess. Looking into the little soup at the bottom of his regular ramen bowl he felt a thousand miles away. As always, he began to count his mistakes.

Begining with his students -

Orochimaru, a traitor, who experimented on kidnapped civilians and shinobi; if the fragmentary reports were to be believed, his brightest student had joined some mercenary group involved with Iwa's rising power and this latest Ame civil war. If they were to be believed... his student had become something out of the blackest nightmare; a complete monster, caring for nothing and no one except himself, freely dabbling in necromancy and even more horrendous experiments. I should have killed you, Orochimaru.

Tsunade, having publicly forsaken her name and disavowing her Senju heritage as part of the Village, she cursed Konoha with her every breath while gambling away every ryo in the Clan coffers she could lay her hands on. Never mind that she had abandoned her post, embarassed Konoha on the world stage and disgraced the memory of every kunoichi who had soldiered on despite their losses. He had seen some legendary binges in his time, but Tsunade outdid them all; nearly twelve years now and she still refused to heed any council or accept any help, even from her apprentice. I should have been stricter with you, Tsunade.

Jiraiya...where to start with that one? The weakest had become the strongest; even if he were in his prime, there was a chance Jiraiya could defeat him. No illusions there, if the day ever came where he, Homura, Koharu and Danzou were no longer vital to the survival of Konoha... Jiraiya would assassinate them all come the next morning. Whoever his successor was, they would allow it; to gain the loyalty of one of the strongest shinobi alive? They'd do it in a heartbeat. No more than what he or anyone on the Council would have done. No, his student had seen too much and his eyes, once so warm were now frighteningly cold... and they would be even colder the next time they met; his man at the Academy had reported that Naruto records had been accessed which meant that Jiraiya had finally managed to turn or buy weight with someone at the Academy and undoubtly had the report card and file in his hands by now.

- followed by his family...

The tenth. Asuma. His own son still refused to speak to him, had not visited his mother's grave since he had returned from the Imperial Court and displayed no interest in any attempt at reconciliation he made. Out of sheer spite, he refused to see Konohamaru or play a part in his upbringing. He could still recall the rage and revulsion in Asuma's voice the night he had left Konoha for the Daimyo. Play a part in this farce? I don't know why I am surprised. The day you tell him the truth about his... Don't worry, Old Man, enough time and you'll fuck this up by yourself. I'll have no part in this...

The tenth. An empty bed for two in his ancestral home. Biwako...

The tenth. Naruto who idolized and loved him as one loves a champion, with unending admiration and adulation. Will there come a day when he curses me just as my students curse me...as my son cursed me...as my grandson might one day?

The young girl, Ayame, he recalls after a second, is staring at him. "So, 10 years old, huh?" she asks loudly, false cheer making her voice wooden. Diverting her eyes to Naruto, pretending to have not seen anything though it is as clear as day to his trained senses.

Unbidden he can hear Danzo's gravelly voice, "Get a grip on yourself, Hiruzen! Sandaime Hokage? Hah! Undone by a servant girl and a lowly one at that. Get your shit together!" Followed by Biwako's lightning quick retort, "Hmph! Women are naturally more observant than men." She could turn any argument into her favor. "Our minds are more complex aft..."

"Yup!" answered Naruto loudly, temporarily stopping his ramen shovelling. "One year closer to becoming Hokage!" Naruto grins and is like the sun rising over the mountains at dawn. The mists evaporate like the dreams of old men.

"I'm not so sure…" said Sarutobi mischievously, "if what Iruka is telling me is correct, you'll be glad to even graduate from the Academy."

"That's mean, Old Man," protested Naruto, but quickly twisted his face into his signature foxy grin. "You're just afraid for your job so you're trying to demoralize me. Uzumaki Naruto doesn't quit that easily! Believe it!"

"I'm glad to hear that," said the aging Hokage. "Determination is a crucial skill for a ninja. Still, I'm somewhat concerned that a potential Hokage is unwilling to do the work necessary to qualify for the position. Will you shirk from your responsibilities as a Hokage too?"

"No!" shouted Naruto, rising from his stool. "I'm going to be the bestest Hokage ever! I'd never let down the village like that!"

Sarutobi locked eyes with Naruto, who looked directly into his eyes, as if daring him to contradict him. Even when he remained silent as the minutes dragged on, Naruto refused to back down. The boy did not even flinch. Sarutobi couldn't resist chuckling in amusement at that kind of bravado. 'The Will of Fire burns strongly in him, indeed.'

Naruto did not seem very pleased that his heartfelt proclamation was being laughed at though and returned to his meal, mumbling about how nobody takes him seriously.

"I heard that you tried to reach me last week," said Sarutobi. "I am sorry that I could not meet you but I was busy and your birthday was close so… It was not anything urgent, I hope?"

"Nope," said Naruto casually. "I just had a chat with someone and it made me think. I just wanted to talk to you a bit."

"Well, I'm all ears," he said. Did some Academy Instructor chew him out? That had never worked before. He would go over the reports again...though they had not indicated that Naruto had gotten into an altercation or anything beyond the usual.

"It was nothing important," said Naruto, shaking his head. "I've dealt with it. How is being Hokage working for you?"

"I manage," replied Sarutobi evenly.

"Good, don't you dare retire before I'm ready to take your place, Old Man," Naruto warned.

"Well, you better hurry and improve, because I do not plan to stay Hokage another decade. As you are, you're not looking like a very promising successor." Naruto looked shocked. "I know, I know, I believe you, but you have to look at things my way. You're lagging behind all your peers. Accuracy, ninjutsu, taijutsu, academic knowledge… you are not very good at any of them. Yet instead of trying to catch up to your classmates, you are spending your time playing pranks on people. That does not look very responsible."

Naruto's face twisted itself into a sour expression. Sarutobi suspected he would not get an explanation for the boy's bad performance. He found it hard to believe Naruto's problem was laziness, but how else could he explain his abysmal scores? He wasn't abused, Sarutobi was sure of that – while there were certain… incidents… when he was younger, Sarutobi's vicious executions of anyone bold enough to attack the boy physically dissuaded potential assassins and thugs. Now, as if in protest against not being able to hurt the boy, people just ignored Naruto as best as they could. Which wasn't all that easy when you're dealing with a loud, orange-clad kid practically bouncing off the walls with barely contained energy.

"Yeah, I know," said Naruto finally, rubbing the back of his head and chuckling nervously. Sarutobi was honestly surprised – Naruto had never before admitted that his performance was unsatisfactory in any manner. "I'll get better, I promise."

Sarutobi wanted to say something, but he knew he had done enough damage. His appetite lost, Naruto proclaimed he had enough ramen and disappeared as fast as he could without appearing like he's running away. Sarutobi wished he brought that subject up on some other meeting, not on the boy's birthday. And after the boy had finished eating. He had expected Naruto to deny the accusations with all his breath and press on, not this. It seemed that the stream of constant failures was finally getting to the kid.

Sarutobi's eyes followed him until he turned the corner. Paying for their meals, he started walking to the Financial District as his bodyguards formed a perimeter around him.

His jounin secretary, Setsuna, appeared in a dazzling red kimono tied with a beautiful obi. Falling into step beside him without missing a beat, she began going day schedule; he was running late for the speech to the Merchant's Guild but no sweat, she had a body double sitting at his table though neither she nor the double had his speech – Sarutobi never let anyone (he could not stop Biwako) besides himself carry or touch his speeches before he delivered them.

"If you want, I could deliver your speech and that would free up some time before you meet with Lady Yumiko and Lord Imagawa..." Someday, Sarutobi mused, he was actually going to publish his memoirs and get back at all those priggish idiots for the shit they tried to make him eat.

"Lets head over to the feast" Sarutobi replied. "By now, most of the eating and drinking will be winding down so all I need to do is grin and bear it for a while before delivering my speech."

Setsuna nodded and rearranged his day planner.

As he passed by the Academy, his thoughts turned once again to Naruto. Hopefully, the boy would overcome whatever problems held him back and start to shine. If things did not improve, perhaps he could get a tutor for the boy...

It was not supposed to be like this.

.

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Naruto closed the door his apartment with a sigh of relief. Even though he only treated his apartment as a place to sleep and a storeroom for his bulkier belongings, he was glad he had the place. It was rather calming to be here, second only to sitting on one of the Ichiraku's stools. His apartment might be a dump, with cracks running through the walls, a broken window repaired with duct-tape, hit-and-miss utilities, and a million other imperfections, but it was his. There was something comforting in that fact. In the orphanage he had to make a scene whenever he wanted something to be done, but now that he had an apartment all to himself he could shower whenever he feels dirty, eat whenever he was hungry - not just at meal times -, and get clothes for himself without them mysteriously disappearing.

But his mood wasn't particularly upbeat. Even the Old Man thought he was a failure; that had really struck a nerve. Being told you're doing badly by a jerk like Iruka, was one thing, and altogether another to have that pointed out to you by someone whose opinion you hold in very high regard. He knew that in the end he would make the Old Man proud by becoming the best ninja ever, but that didn't make the meantime any more pleasant.

He went to the bathroom to have a calming shower, but the water still wasn't back. He'd have to nag the land-lord again. He went by the window, inspecting the potted plants he 'rescued' from the dumpsters around the city. He was slowly nursing them back to health, they were doing ok, he though, but Mr Ueki and Mr Kobayashi was still sickly-looking. Without a second thought, he took his last bottle of water and distributed it over the plants. They needed it more than he did.

What exactly was he supposed to do? Nobody wanted to spar with him, everyone always called him stupid when he asked questions and he never understood the answers the instructors gave. He was sick trying to get the lame clone jutsu to work, he must have practised that jutsu a million times! The instructors never helped him unless he was being a total ass, and even then they just told him what he was doing wrong, never how to fix it. He was reduced to overhearing advice given to other students and doing his best to apply it to himself.

Maybe he could work on accuracy? Its not like you need to know some deep secrets about how to throw a kunai. Yeah, that could definitely work!

A few minutes later he found his kunai pouch and left for his own super-secret training ground. He would practice his throwing till the sun set down, and by tomorrow he'd be the best in class! He'd be better than Sasuke-teme, and then Sakura-chan would like him for being so cool.

"Heheheh." He chuckled to himself as he added details to his fantasy. Yes, that's exactly how it's going to be.

He was rudely wrenched out of his fantasies when he came to his training ground and found it taken. Well, not exactly taken. The training ground was big enough for dozens of people, and the two of them could comfortably use this one without bothering each other. And the other person wasn't exactly rude. He or she was just sitting cross-legged in the shade of the tree with reading a book beside them. Listening to the birds? The training ground wasn't really his. Legally speaking, it was just unused. But…

Naruto cautiously approached, and the identity of the intruder became more defined. It was Red, as Naruto came to think of him, the red-headed teenager who's shop he van- uh, decorated a week ago. Not really someone Naruto wanted to meet again. He approached with mild apprehension, but Red was totally oblivious to his presence (Hah! He could do stealth. Iruka didn't know anything!), serene expression plastered on his face. No greeting, no remarks, no nothing.

Naruto debated internally whether to say something and initiate conversation, but decided against it. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten silent treatment and besides… maybe... maybe he kind of deserved it this case.

So Naruto did the same thing the red-headed teen did – he ignored the other's presence. See how he liked it. He took a kunai out of his bag and started abusing the targets in the distance.

He did it for hours. He threw kunai after kunai, again and again, switched to shuriken and back to kunai again, until his shoulder was sore and he accidentally slashed his pinky. He wasn't getting any better. The stupid things missed, veered off their intended flight path, and bounced - he winced - off targets. By the time the noon sun shone directly on the training ground, Naruto was sweaty, tired and sick of it all, his enthusiasm completely sapped. He kicked the remaining kunai and called them stupid, but found that the inanimate objects were unmoved by his insults. Dragging his feet and pouting to himself, he flopped down under the nearby tree.

He just couldn't understand what the problem was. He couldn't really be that bad, could he? He was going to be the next Hokage! Naruto could already see Iruka in his mind using his Demon Head jutsu. Mute now! Heheheh. If only he could do that in class. Maybe if he put some cough medicine into Teacher's Lounge tea...

Suddenly, Red got up from his tree, picking up the scattered shuriken and kunai, turning them in his hand as he inspected them. Naruto observed him with intense interest but did not say anything while pretending to look everywhere else but where he was standing. When the older boy suddenly began walking towards him, Naruto stood up to face him on equal ground.

"Your weapons are of very poor quality," he began. "They are too soft, improperly sharpened and poorly balanced. Whoever sold you these cheated you. You will NOT improve as long as you use them. These are not even good for training."

For several seconds, Naruto's mind was blank. He had expected him to make fun of his skills or something but... He tried processing what the older boy said but this knowledge just did not mesh with his worldview. The merchant who sold him those was so nice! Nice people didn't do stuff like that, did they? He couldn't have possibly meant to sell him faulty merchandise…Yeah, it was probably a mistake. The cashier switched the boxes to get back at him!

'Whoever sold you these cheated you.'

There was no ambiguity in that sentence, no straw that Naruto's mind could grasp for in order to interpret it in a positive way. Naruto hung his head. And he paid premium price for those too…

"I can't get any better ones," Naruto said woodenly.

"Why not?" asked Red in that annoying patient tone. His face was doing that stupid serene expression thing.

Naruto's mind exploded in anger. Why not? Why not? He couldn't confront the clerk about this. He could hand them to the Old Man. The answer; he didn't like it, but deep down he was aware of it.

"The shop owners don't like me," said Naruto, locking eyes with the stranger. There, he said it out loud. It was not just that they did not respect him or pretended to not hear his questions or act like he was not there. They disliked him. They were going out of his way to inconvenience him, and him alone. They would continue to do so no matter what he did.

"After our clash that evening," said Red, wrenching Naruto from his thoughts, "I took it upon myself to find out what I can about you. You are a very… notorious person, Uzumaki Naruto."

Naruto's face fell. Here we go; one more person who heard the stories about him and decided they don't want to be anywhere near him. He should just pick up his stuff and walk away, but… Oh what the hell.

"You bet! Everyone knows about me! I am Uzumaki Naruto - Konoha's number one prankster and the future Hokage!" Naruto puffed his chest and did his brightest smile on his face.

"I see," the other boy's expression did not change. "Well Naruto, if the shop owners won't let you buy proper equipment, how about you let me buy it for you?"

Naruto felt his face shift into his patented foxy grin. This guy wasn't so bad after all.

AN:

1) The premise of this story belongs to nobody102, who gave me permission to use it and was kind enough to serve as a sounding board for my questions.

2) I have dyslexia, so I tried rereading it several times, if any mistakes got through, please point them out and I'll fix it asap.

3) Please R&R.