Title: The City Is at War

Warning to homophobes: There is yaoi content, dammit!

Rated: NC-17, for future explicit content, language, and lots of blood.

Summary: The year is 2050, and the world has become nothing but a pile of scum. There's a new King, and he goes by the name Sasuke Uchiha - and he's apparently big and bad because he killed the old King, Orochimaru. But Naruto Uzumaki, the new trainee police officer isn't scared. He's prepared to do anything to catch this gang leader, even if it costs him his . . . heart?

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto :'( but I do own this idea, so please, stealing is mean!

The City Is At War

Prologue: The King

The gun in his hand was cocked back, and it was lifted and aimed at a man splayed on his knees; a desperate look on the bent man's face. A droplet of sweat trickled down the nervous man's forehead, and he took in breaths of air at a quick rate, making them short pants. The man holding the gun was smirking, the sunglasses shielding his eyes glinting off the artificial street light hitting them.

The pale pink lips holding the smirk opened and closed, and a wet muscle swiped over the top one, moistening the dry and chapped lip. The finger at the trigger threatened to pull at any moment, and his other hand held a firm grip on the arm of the gun. "One . . . " the man on his knees suddenly whimpered, his eyes widening a fraction or two. "Two . . . " He scrambled to his feet and took off, hoping he could escape before the count of three. "Three . . . bang." The word contrasted with the gun shell that escaped the mouth of the gun, and the loud noise that came with it.

Birds fluttered away from the crumbs they were picking at before the blood could splatter over their feathers. A scream echoed against the graffitied walls, and rang in the raven-haired man's ear. The smirk on his face grew in size as he watched at the ending before him, his position still in place. All that blood . . . It was like a portrait of death, right before his eyes.

"You're dead," stated the man, raising his gun to his mouth and blowing the tip sarcastically. He raised his hand to his sunglasses and lifted them up, revealing two dull onyx eyes that glittered with amusement. He reloaded his gun and tucked it in its coaster before he walked over to the dead man.

His heels clicked against the cobble stoned alleyway, and he bent down to get a closer look at the dead man. A small hole was in the back of the man's head, indicating where the bullet had hit. The raven-haired man smirked with satisfaction. It hit him dead on. He told himself, reaching a hand out to touch the small but sufficient wound. It was precise and on target, which was the best part. Blood stained his fingertips a crimson red color, and he cooly wiped the wet substance off on the dead man's suit. Of course, the King was never off target.

"Traitors never live," spat the beautiful man, "and that's why you died, Zabuza."

The sound of footsteps tickled the man's eardrums, and he averted his gaze to the entrance of the alleyway. He gave a low "hn" under his breath and stood to his feet, still looking at the dead man. They were coming, the cops. He frowned as the noises came closer, and he familiarized himself with the voices that followed.

"It came from this way," shouted a voice.

"Get your guns out," ordered another.

Onyx eyes stared at the bloody mess, before an elegant smile graced the man's features. He raised his arm and flipped it over, a beautiful red rose appearing in the palm of his hand, and he let it fall down next to the body. The raven-haired man pocketed one of his hands before he took a swift step over the body and made a run for it down the narrow passageway beside him. He smiled as he hopped onto a garbage can, quickly leaping up the walls to escape to the rooftops.

The cops would be left with the mess, he told himself, but curiosity got the best of him. He stopped and turned to look back in the direction of the massacre, and his body slowly forced him back to the crime scene. He looked down upon the paramedics checking Zabuza's pulse, and the cops and/or forensic aids quickly placing 'Do Not Cross' tape around the scene. A smirk pulled at his lips as he watched someone pick the rose he had dropped up, and the words of recognition that followed gave him a sense of thrill and pride.

"The King was here . . . "

A cop in training stepped over the body carefully to analyze the blood stained flower, and lifted his head to look up at the moon, but he wouldn't see the raven who was watching, because the King had left just before the boy looked up.

"Do you think we'll ever catch him?" asked the boy with blonde hair, his whiskered face crinkling in question. He lifted his hands and folded them behind his head, still mesmerized by the light of the moon raining down on him. He closed his eyes as a peaceful sensation fell upon.

His boss, a brown-haired man, diverted his attention from the rose to look at the blonde, and a soft smile took over his face. "We're doing everything we can," he stated calmly, beckoning a forensic aid over. He carefully placed the rose in a plastic bag and sealed it shut before looking back up at the blonde.

"Who is he, Iruka-sensei?" asked the blonde, an innocent hint to his voice. The blue-eyed boy looked down at his boss and tilted his head, looking so childish and cute it made the brown-eyed cop wonder why his trainee even wanted such a rough job.

Iruka looked up at the moon, a frown now lacing his face. "We don't really know," he exclaimed truthfully. "The old King was killed by one of his stronger accomplices, so now we don't know who it is. The old King, though, was named Orochimaru. Does that explain anything, Naruto-kun?"

"I suppose," shrugged the blonde, wrinkling his nose again. He glanced down at the body next to him and cringed.

A fatherly smile tugged at Iruka's lips as he watched Naruto's eyelids droop down over his blue eyes, making the blonde lose his balance and stumble over a bit. "Come on," he gestured for the blonde to follow, snorting in amusement at the startled expression now residing on the fox boy's face. "It's been a long night, and you need some sleep. Let's go home."

Naruto followed his boss to the car, tuning Iruka out as the brown-haired man told a fellow police man he was going home for the night. The blonde looked back up at the sky, and stared at the moon that shone down on him. A frown fell over his face as he began to contemplate over something that had been nagging him ever since he got this job. He looked down at the plastic bag in Iruka's hand, the flower safely bobbing up and down with Iruka's steps.

Who are you . . . King?