A/N: Greetings, friends, followers, favoritors, and fellow authors. By the time that I'm posting this it's probably late and you are questioning yourself as to what exactly possessed you to read this at this ungodly hour? The answer is that I have no idea, and I encourage you to get back to your much-needed rest. However, should you brave the night and read this chapter, then I commend you for falling into my trap. It is a writer's greatest pleasure to hear that someone was kept up until the unholy hours of the morning reading one of his works. It probably has something to do with the fact that I'm a terrible person.

This is AU, by the way. I will be making some changes to just about everything.

Chapter One

You Can't Be Serious

It was a fine autumn day, the kind of autumn that bards and storytellers so loved to pontificate about, but seldom found in reality. The tree's leaves were in the middle of changing color, painting the world in dark hues of brown, burnt orange, and pink – the later being from sakura trees that dotted the landscape the like black spots on a cow.

A figure made its way along the path, making his way towards his intended destination with grim determination set in his shoulders, the posture of a man who has resigned himself to a fate he didn't like.

Uchiha Sasuke could hear and smell them before he could see them. The pungent air and cacophonous noise the mass of humans muddle ahead made was already making him sick. He shuddered to think of what it would be like to have to push his way through their jostling, greasy, sweat stained bodies to reach the performance tent the Namikaze was supposed to be in shortly. He couldn't jump over the garishly colored circus hovels either. The attention that would attract from the swilling eyes on the ground was more than he could afford. According to Jiraiya, Konoha's spymaster, he couldn't wait until nightfall. The target would then be moving with a group to another location, and thus far to public an area to be quietly extracted from.

Sasuke braced himself as he entered the crowd, carefully picking his way through the masses, desperately trying to avoid touching any of them without actually looking like he was avoiding touching any of them. A difficult feat, but he'd been practicing avoiding human contact for years. It'd become second nature by now.

It wasn't that he was afraid of dirtying his clothes, quite the opposite, he wouldn't miss the tattered, boorishly brown civilian vest and trousers he was dressed in, even if they were set on fire. But he needed the clothes to blend in and approach his target without drawing any undo attention.

Sasuke rounded a corner and saw the large, red and blue circus tent. His target, Naruto Namikaze, the former Hokage's estranged son and the Kyuubi's Jinchuuriki, was supposed to be tendering his time at this…establishment, and it was his job to return him to Konoha.

Jinchuuriki, Sasuke felt, was a crude term applied to those who'd forcibly had demons shoved into them when they were children. The word Jinchuuriki roughly meant 'Human sacrifice', although Sasuke always wondered who the sacrifice was supposed to be. The seal used to imprison the demon had but one cost to use: the caster's soul. Logically, the sacrifice would be whoever was brave enough to kill themselves to protect those they loved. Logic, Sasuke reflected as he dodged around a particularly over-weight and heavily intoxicated man mumbling to himself in a drunken slur, was a fickle thing. It made perfect sense that when the Third Hokage sacrificed himself to stop the demon rampaging across his homeland, that he would be the glittering example of the word sacrifice. After all, the man had given up so much throughout his life to defend Konoha. The man had prevented Konoha's fall from wars, famine, and in the end, Demons.

However, Sasuke knew how the Jinchuuriki were treated. He'd seen the abuse they suffered first hand. First, during Sasuke's youth, he had witnessed the distain, the harsh words, and rare acts of physical violence with which they treaded Naruto – Konoha's Jinchuuriki, though the boy seemed to endure it with stone faced stoicism. And later, during Sasuke's genin examination, he saw the result of an even harsher environment could produce in Gaara. The 'child' could barely control his homicidal impulses.

Jinchuuriki sacrificed so much of themselves, intentional or not, to make sure that those around them remained safe. That was a sacrifice of a different sort. Sadly, desperately sadly, it remained by-and-large unnoticed.

Sasuke suspected that the only reason Naruto hadn't turn out similarly to Gaara was because he left Konoha, leaving an angry father, a disbelieving mother, and younger sibling behind.

Sasuke had wondered, when he'd first received the mission, as to why Naruto's younger sister wasn't sent in his stead. A familial relationship, not to mention prospective successor as Hokage, would no doubt have been more convincing than an armed stranger. However, as an ANBU captain and nearly defunct clan head, Sasuke had been ordered by his new Hokage to retrieve the Namikaze heir to lead the family and not ask questions.

Normally, the succession of the clan head would have passed to Heruko, Naruto's younger sister. However, Naruto had made been made a Genin before his departure and thus had qualified for the title before Heruko could. Minato Namikaze never made alternate arrangements for Heruko to take his place, nor had he dismissed Naruto from the family before his untimely death, which left his only male heir to take his place. Not to mention that Heruko was already head of the Uzumaki family. More news Sasuke wasn't looking forward to delivering. The thought of some spoiled brat of a noble sobbing on his shoulder after receiving news of his parent's premature death was not something he was looking forward to in the slightest.

The Fourth had died of a weak heart. An unusual affliction for a ninja to succumb to, as a healthy chakra flow usually took care of most illnesses and diseases automatically. It was usually other ninjas that ninja had to worry about.

Konoha had been on edge until her best medical doctors had confirmed that no foul play was involved after a thorough examination. Iwa, who the Fourth had shamed in the third Great War, was under heavy suspicion of breaking the truce and assassinating their leader. In the end, it had appeared as though the greatest warrior Konoha had ever produced could die just like any other man. It was a sobering thought.

Sasuke parted the flap to the massive tent and entered. The near toxic air became that was already oppressive became stifling. Poor air circulation combined with overstuffed and heat exhausted humans mixed to form a near caustic atmosphere for the Clan Head. The rabble seemed to be enjoying it, however. Laughing, talking amongst themselves, milling about aimlessly, slapping each other on the back causing the contents that had previously been in this slack jaws to burst forth from loose lips, and generally making fools of themselves, the circus goers seemed not to notice or require the formerly breathable air they endeavored to pollute.

Sasuke stopped Enhancing himself, finding that he couldn't bear the environment with his magnified senses. Enhancement was the term that Ninja used to describe using chakra to increase the users sight, hearing, touch, strength, speed, and smell. With chakra, a ninja could exceed what was deemed 'humanly possible' with chakra, such as being able to lift boulders over ten times their size with ease.

Tsunade, one of the legendary Sanin and current Hokage, was well known for her ability to enhance her physical strength beyond even a Kage's usual ability. Engaging that behemoth in a Taijutsu exchange was tantamount to signing one's own death warrant.

Sasuke glanced about the tent, looking for the mop of blonde hair among the crowd. There were twenty rows down and fifteen deep worth of seats split into three columns that sat in front of a large, pine stage. Pine, Sasuke suspected, because it was lightweight and easy to take apart and move.

He glanced about the tent, looking for the mop of blonde hair among the crowd. There were twenty rows down and fifteen deep worth of seats split into three columns that sat in front of a large, pine stage. Pine, Sasuke suspected, because it was lightweight and easy to take apart, pick up and move. Sasuke suspected that was the exact reason why they chose the material.

'Approximately 900 people.' Sasuke thought with some annoyance, his eyes moving quickly from head to head.

He could have activated his Sharingan - his ocular ability that gave him enhanced vision and processing powers for starters - to expedite his search, but he couldn't risk the surge of easily detectable power. If he spooked Naruto, the drifter would disappear and they'd have to resume the search all over again. Genin or not, Jiraiya had said that following the boy's erratic movement was a rather difficult task.The Namikaze seemed to have a talent for evasion.

As Sasuke scanned the crowd searching for the blond hair the Namikaze's file indicated he'd have, the lights above the audience dimmed, leaving only the main lights on stage as the sole remaining source of illumination. A strange, anticipatory hush fell across the crowd as they took their seats. After a moment, when the crowd was leaning forward slightly, trying to get a better look at the stage in case they were missing something, a solitary figure dressed in a traditional black yukata stepped out, pulling a stool behind him with one hand and holding a shamisen in the other, his sandaled feet thumping across the stage. Sasuke raised an eyebrow in surprise. The figure was exactly as the file described, even if it had matured with age. What was surprising to him was the instrument. Elderly women on their front porch usually played Shamisen as they attempted to creatively avoid their husbands, not by young men on large stages in front of large crowds.

Sasuke blinked, glancing around at the crowd. The previously rambunctious crowd had transformed into a quiet, attentive bunch. They apparently were expecting something from Naruto because Sasuke had never seen such a reverent reaction in a crowd for what must have been a pre-show. The stage was too large to be a simple musicians or storyteller's. The stage was too large to be a simple musicians or storyteller's. Its intended purpose was probably a gymnastics or acrobatic show, given the width and depth of it.

Naruto propped his seat in the center of the stage, stared at it as if measuring its worth, then set himself languidly on it, his unruly mess of blond hair hanging down over his eyes casting them into a deep and impenetrable shadow as he fiddled with his instrument, making final tuning adjustments with the delicate care a mother would take in raising her beloved child.

Blond was a poor word to portray the musician's hair, radiant would have been far more apt – far more fitting – a word to use to describe the sun-kissed golden strands of hair that stuck up in oddly placed spikes on his head. In that moment, he more resembled his father when he was focus on a seal more than any other time.

Naruto placed his seat in the center of the stage, setting himself upon it, his unruly mess of blond hair hanging down over his eyes casting them into shadow as he fiddled with the instrument, making final tuning adjustments.

Apparently satisfied with his work Naruto struck a cord, letting the staccato sound wash over the crowd. After a few more notes, Naruto stopped and looked up at the crowd. The Namikaze seemed to lock eyes with everyone at the same time. His blue eyes reflecting the stage lights, enhancing the depth of the sapphire pools that held the masses spellbound.

"Once upon a time, there was a great ninja." Naruto began, his voice calm and entrancing. Sasuke raised an eyebrow in surprise. The Namikaze heir apparently intended to sit there, playing a song while telling a story. "It was in a time where there were no villages, and clans held the reigns of power in the world of shadows, when few that didn't hold a bloodline had a chance to become a ninja. Yet this man, a true prodigy of great talent, did. He fought in many battles, he mastered ancient techniques and became both feared and respected among his peers. Yet he vied not for the power, riches or glory like his comrades did. He was devoted to his art and aimed to truly understand it. Because of that he decided to learn the utmost secrets of it."

Naruto plucked and strummed his instrument as he spoke, his eyes seemingly changing from a bright blue to a deeper, electric blue. Dancing and entwining themselves around each other like lovers on their wedding night, the cadence of his voice and instrument weaved and complimented each other perfectly. Sasuke noted a light smoke haze and a taste of incense in the air. Sasuke couldn't help but snort. The Namikaze certainly was dramatic.

"He soon realized that the lore was vast and decided that simply learning it all wouldn't be possible for a man in one life time. Therefore he meditated on the problem until he had found a solution. 'I shall learn the strongest, the most powerful and most sublime of them, for is it not the essence of the ninja?' Deciding on the course of action he followed it with zeal.

Scouring the land for the most powerful of arts he found monks of the North, who were rumored to break the masters of arms with their bare hands, and learned their style.

His talent was great, his dedication even greater - soon, the monks called him their master and begged him to stay and take his rightful place. The man declined, for his journey was far from over.

Next he searched the shinobi world for the most perfect of Ninjutsu. He encountered the clans of bloodline gifts, the monsters and spirits of power and men akin to Gods who made the heavens tremble and he learned their secrets until he was even stronger than them. His legend grew so much every noble wanted his services and every ninja clan offered him daughters, riches and position - as many as he wanted, and as much as he wanted - just so he would stay with them. Yet he refused."

Naruto's voice was smooth, warm and entrancing. Inspiring a sense of wanderlust as his tones rose and fell as he told of the hero's greatness, his voice spilling over the crowd like honey.

"For he cared not for riches, honor or glory of the clans - as those he soon realized were just trappings of luxury. He cared not for the morality and justice of the lords - for it was hollow and self absorbed. Determined more than ever, he moved on in his quest to find the last part of the puzzle.

He scoured the ancient halls, walked through battlefields, visited monasteries, bargained with demons and bartered with spirits in his search for understanding, meeting naught but despair. For while Taijutsu could be judged by grace and efficiency, Ninjutsu by power and effect, how was one to judge an illusion?"

Naruto smiled, twanging his strings to emphasize the word 'illusion'. The actions had the desired effect. The crowd leaned even further in, desperate for the answer.

"Years passed and the despair set its claws deep into his heart at the fruitlessness of his quest. No monk could aid him, no onmyouji advise him, no ninja teach him and no spirit whisper the secrets sufficient enough to give him the prize he looked for. Dismayed, exhausted and bitter he came to a city of vice seeking to drown his sorrow in any way he could, seeking even a briefest of respites. And there he met a courtesan named Yuya.

She was an oiran, a woman of low station sold by her parents into the trade as a young girl and taught beauty and pleasure by shrewd eyed matrons of her tea house. While no exquisite beauty she was good at her job and her patrons felt naught but bliss in her arms, which she drew a measure of pride from. It was a small pride most would scoff at, but it was hers and she cherished it.

Therefore when the ninja came to her, bitter and drunk with both wine and disappointment, she took his coins and led him to her bed. But the ninja was inconsolable, still bemoaning his failure, only despair lingering in his heart. The courtesan's pride was small but strong. The ninja didn't want to share his burden but the oiran was determined and crafty."

Naruto paused his story, looking up and going through a few slow cords on his instrument as he smiled at his audience. His pause allowing the viewers to go over the story in their minds, putting images to his words.

"When the ninja finally shared his great grief with her, the courtesan looked at him and laughed loudly. Enraged, shamed and bitter, the ninja threatened to take her life for mocking him. The courtesan just smiled and said 'If you do so, my lord, you will never learn the secret of the greatest illusion of all.' The ninja was confused. What could a lady of the night, of all people, know of ninja arts?

But then he was tired and looked for years. So he relented and demanded the secret of her, lest he take her head and life with it. The oiran smiled serenely and told him she would share the secret but on one condition. For the three days, he was to follow her wishes without question or hesitation. The ninja agreed.

'If you have enemies I will cut them down. If you have oppressors I shall dispose of them. If you need treasures or gems of knowledge I can find them for you without fail.' he said.

The oiran nodded, and told him to be there the next day. When the sun rose the ninja was there with sword on his back and shuriken in his hand. The courtesan led him to a garden by the teahouse. Confused, the ninja said nothing when she sat and bade him to look at the birds with her until afternoon. The ninja did as asked. As the noon passed she asked him to join her in a meal and ninja complied, passing the time with song, wine and music.

The very next day, when he came again, ready to do her bidding, weapons in hand, she asked him to follow her into the city. Thinking she needed a bodyguard, he walked behind her diligently while the courtesan spent the whole day buying the finest jade combs and picking the most beautiful kimono. The ninja followed her like a shadow as she went about her day until they came back to the teahouse, where she bade him to eat with her once again.

When the third sunrise came, she requested for him to join her in a song. The ninja was most distressed - he did not know how to sing. The courtesan laughed and bade him to sing regardless. His word was his honor and as such he did as ordered.

When the sun rose the next day the ninja demanded the secret, at which courtesan said nothing. Enraged, he decided to draw his sword, but despite the shame he experienced, he felt reluctant to do so. He tried to unleash one of his countless mighty Ninjutsu at the smiling woman, but the techniques seemed to fade before they were even cast. Helplessly torn between shame, despair and reluctance, the ninja stood before the kneeling woman."

Naruto stopped his music, his eyes loosing the near cheeky dance they had before –as if he were delighting in the telling of his story, no matter the audience's age – his eyes dimmed and took on a more sober tone.

"Yuya smiled knowingly to the ninja. 'This, my lord, is the greatest, the most sublime illusion of them all and its secret.' she said softly. And the ninja was enlightened."

The room fell into a deep silence. No one dared move and break the unnatural stillness. The opaque covering ceased its writhing imagery falling uncomfortably still. It was as if the mist understood that its beautiful form was no longer wanted or appreciated, and was subdued by the great strain.

When the weight of the tension in the room seemed almost unbearable, Naruto slid off the stool, grabbed it by the seat, and left the stage through the back, dragging it unceremoniously behind him.

Sasuke frowned at the odd ending to the story. It seemed… incomplete to him, almost as if Naruto had gotten bored and had decided to end it at the climax instead of following through into the falling action. The crowd didn't seem to share his opinion. For the most part, they were quiet and contemplative. There was the odd person standing up and gathering their things, but they were the minority.

Sasuke slipped quietly out the back as the gymnasts took the stage. His target would doubtlessly be resting in the back after his performance. It would be the perfect time to contact, and if necessary subdue, the Genin.

Carefully making his way around to the rear of the performance hall, Sasuke spotted a small tent with its flap open.

'People don't leave their tents wide open to the world unless someone is home to rebuff unwanted intruders.'

Sasuke slunk over to the side of Naruto's presumed tent on light feet, his passing not even making indentations on the ground, enhancing his ears with chakra so that he could spy on the occupants.

"-and it was a lovely shade of red to." A light-hearted, jovial voice Sasuke didn't recognize was saying before dropping into a lower, more somber note, "But seriously, Naruto, Ame's been…" The voice petered off.

"You shinobi are a most interesting lot." The voice came again, elevated to make sure that Sasuke knew that he had been discovered. Sasuke cursed lightly. He wasn't used to being found out so quickly. It was a professional pride thing. Whoever the voice was, he was competent enough fighter to have detected his approach. Even across a bed of alarm seals, Sasuke was used to passing without detection.

Sasuke entered the tent slowly. The interior walls of the tent were a rich cream color that contrasted over a bare, grassy floor. There was an open chest in the left corner that had clothes and an odd assortment of pictures and notepads lying on top. The shamisen Naruto had used in his show was propped against the right side of the chest and Naruto – still in his performance clothes – sat across from a man no older than Naruto himself, dressed in a gray tank top and black trousers, a table with a black bottle separating the two.

With a glance, Sasuke sized the stranger up, eyeing him warily. The stranger was slightly younger than himself, probably around nineteen, and was a bit on the short side. But the compactly musculature his exposed arms bore marked him as a warrior of some fashion, the scar over his left eye only furthered Sasuke's impression. Dismissing him as a ninja, he didn't have the bearing of one, Sasuke deduced that he was either a Samurai or Monk.

"How did you know I was there?" Sasuke asked, locking his coal black eyes with the stranger's brown.

"As I said, you shinobi are a most interesting lot. You walk without making a sound. But you can always tell when one is near. When you guys are around, the earth itself falls silent."

The stranger was an almost certainly a monk, probably from the northern mountains. The clipped and heavily accented way he spoke was a dead give away. That would explain his physique and how he was able to detect his approach. If he was a monk, he was a strange one. He didn't shave his head as was traditional of his order. Instead allowing his brown hair to crop on his head like a tilled plot of land.

"May I help you, Mr. Ninja?" Naruto asked, gazing at him wide eyed over the rim of his glass drink poised at his lips, purple liquid hovering just in front of his lips.

Sasuke straightened, addressing the Namikaze fully. Sasuke dismissed the meek act for what it was, an act. Naruto's eyes held none of the preconceptions Sasuke had built up before arriving. He'd been trained in ROOT, and he knew when someone was putting up a weak façade of emotions. He'd certainly had it beaten into him

"You are to return with me to Konoha by order of the Hokage." Sasuke recited formally, almost drolly.

"I'll pass." Naruto replied quickly, the air of timidity vanishing as he set the drink down and laced his fingers in his lap. Apparently giving the act up without a struggle. "Tell my father that I'm not interested in what he has to say. All that was to be said has been said. He made his position to me quite clear when last we spoke."

Sasuke glanced at the stranger for signs of surprise that Naruto was the son of the late Hokage. There were none. Whoever this brown haired monk was, he knew that Naruto was a Hokage's son. That could prove to be a security risk if not dealt with soon enough.

"By the way, mate, ma name is Jango, not that you bothered asking or nothing." Jango said, speaking with a strange cheerful drawl, the accent that had at first pegged him as a northern monk had vanished entirely.

Sasuke contained the flicker of surprise at the sudden change. Ninjas were known for being able to throw their voice to confuse their opponents, but they rarely went so far in their vocal tricks to bother with memorizing different accents. It was a clever, if mostly esoteric, way to blend in.

"What kind of a name is Jango?" Sasuke asked before he could stop himself.

Jango just grinned while Naruto shook his head in apparent exasperation. It seemed as though this wasn't a question he should have asked.

"My kind of name." Jango said, the same knowing smile on his face. "It means playfully mad."

Sasuke didn't ask the question he most wanted to ask, 'how can you be playfully mad'?

"At least you've shown that much sense." Naruto said gruffly as he placed the wine glass on the table. Sasuke's suspicion that this was an old conversation rose even further.

Sasuke turned back to Naruto, dismissing the monk once again while replacing his air of authority with a new one.

"I'm sorry, Lord Namikaze, but it was not your father who requested you."

Naruto narrowed his eyes at the ANBU captain. Although there was no killing intent to the glare, Sasuke was slightly impressed. For a reported Genin, it was crafty enough to pass for a ANBU's inspection.

"What do you mean?" Naruto demanded slowly.

"It's as I was tellin' ya before stuffy arrived." Jango said, indicating Sasuke with a gesture of his drink and raising an eyebrow at Naruto. "Stuff's been going on with all the other stuffy folk at the big cities."

"No." Naruto corrected the monk steadily. "You've been telling me about a bunch of things you've stolen lately."

"Traded very evenly for." Jango corrected. "Just as fair a trade as I made you."

Naruto regarded the monk for a few heartbeats before saying, "I don't remember any trades... recently"

"That's because you haven't noticed the nice rock I've left in place of your clock beside you bed sheets in your chest." Jango replied cheerily, pouring the wine in his glass back into the bottle without any shame or repugnance.

"A rock." Naruto said dully, rubbing at his right temple with his right hand.

"A nice one." Jango confirmed, nodding proudly, quite satisfied with himself.

"Excuse me." Sasuke cut in, not liking being ignored. He had duty to preform and duo's antics were becoming irksome.

"You're excused." Jango said curtly, waving him off haughtily as Sasuke was a common serving boy. Sasuke resisted the urge to snap his neck barehanded.

"You were speaking of my father as if he is no longer the Hokage." Naruto said, returning his attention back to Sasuke. "Has he turned over the title?"

"Your father is dead." Sasuke responded bluntly. He had never been very good at dancing around bushes. He preferred to burn them. It was much faster, simpler and the blaze would warm him for a fraction of a second.

Naruto eyebrows rose and his eyes slid out of focus, but no tears came to his eyes like Sasuke had thought might happen. Apparently, the fallout Naruto had with his family hadn't been overly exaggerated with the retelling.

"How?" Naruto asked, hollowly, is eyes not quite focusing on any one thing.

"Heart failure. Tsunade Senju has been instated as the Hokage. You are to accompany me and take your place as the Namikaze's clan head as per instructions left by your father." Sasuke responded. He was a soldier, not a nurse to break things to the patient softly.

Sasuke watched at Naruto blinked, a true hint of surprise entering the Namikaze's eyes for the first time.

"You can't be serious." Naruto said stiffly, then he gestured to his surroundings, saying a slightly scornful voice, "You want a circus storyteller to take the place of a prestigious clan head? Has Konoha sunk even lower than when I left?"

Naruto scowled, biting off, "Get my sister to do it. I haven't seen her in years, but by now she should be able enough."

"Your father made no arrangements for her to take his place. Besides, she has already taken the head of the Uzumaki clan. She cannot hold two titles. You are the only choice."

And there it was. A moment where, as Naruto realized that his mother must be dead as well, Naruto's eyes darkened slightly, grief rearing its head for a mere instant before vanishing once again. For that flicker of a second, Sasuke saw the sorrow that Naruto must have been repressing. The Uchiha was impressed with the Genin's ability to keep his composure. Not many he'd delivered similar news were able to contain their emotions for later when they'd be best put to use. Sasuke wondered slightly where the reported Genin had acquired the skill. It wasn't something many were born with.

The funeral for the Uzumaki head had been a somber affair, her husband reportedly not leaving the memorial for three days – not even for food or drink. The Fourth had followed his wife two years later.

"I don't want the title." Naruto said bluntly, folding his arms and furrowing his brows in thought. It wasn't a petulant expression like a toddler would make after he didn't get what he wanted. It was the expression a man got when he was being cornered and was desperately trying to figure a way out.

"I was instructed not to care." Sasuke said blandly, fingers twitching towards the seal tattooed on the inside of his wrist where he kept his sword. If a fight broke out, he intended to subdue them quickly. The monk would be the larger threat. He was the one who'd detected his approach and was therefore the more dangerous of the two.

"I thought that was a general requirement." Jango said suddenly, shattering the tension entirely.

"What?" Naruto asked distractedly, turning his head to gaze blankly at the monk lounging in the chair opposite him.

"Not caring." Jango elaborated, gesturing slightly. "I thought that it was a general rule for a ninja not to care. Cut down the enemy and what not."

"That's…not entirely it. We follow a code. Not to gain from our skills, but for everyone to live, because we loathe the people we would otherwise become." Naruto said slowly, his mind clearly elsewhere.

Sasuke refrained from snorting.

What would a Genin know about cutting down opponents? Pretty words, even if spoken in ignorance. He thought

Naruto sighed heavily, rubbing a hand through his hair before regarding the Uchiha once more.

"What would I be listed as if I refused to return with you?"

"Assuming you somehow managed to overpower me," Sasuke said, emphasizing how unlikely he thought it was that they would overpower him, "If I don't report back to Konoha within the next two days, you will be listed as an S rank retrieval in the bingo book." It was untrue. Sasuke actually had a week before he was supposed to have contacted Naruto. The blonde, however, didn't need to know that. Information was a luxury that Sasuke was privileged to have.

Sasuke saw Naruto glance at the exit, apparently considering attempting to run. It would have been amusing if it were not for the fact that Naruto was to be returned unharmed. A trick Sasuke's patience probably wouldn't allow if the heir tried to make an escape.

There was a few moments pause as Naruto considered his options.

"I'll go with you so long as we make a few stops along the way." Naruto muttered, resignation seeping from his voice.

Sasuke nodded his agreement. The Hokage figured that the heir would have a few things to put in order before he would return.

"Well that settles it then." Jango said, jumping to his feet, picking up a fedora and placing it on his head from where it had been resting on table by the bottle. With another smooth motion he whipped a duster from the back of the chair he'd been on and shoved his arms through the sleeves. "Let's be off."

"You're coming?" Naruto asked, surprised, looking up at the brunette from where he remained sitting.

"Of course." Jango said, throwing him a lopsided grin. "It was time I was moving on from this place anyhows. People disagreeing with my trades, you see."

Naruto rose wearily, as if he were many years older than twenty.

"Give me a moment alone with my friend and to change, Mr. ANBU. I promise I won't run." Naruto asked.

Sasuke nodded curtly, striding from the tent, discreetly placing a detection seal on the flap of the tent as he passed. The seal was designed to lace chakra throughout the object it was placed on to – in this case a tent – and alert the user if there was a disturbance, such as a few slashes to the rear and a quick back escape. He was courteous, not trusting.

Line Break

Once Naruto was satisfied that the ANBU was out of hearing range, he turned to face his friend, who was already standing beside him with that same lopsided grin on his face.

"You wanna know the real reason I'm coming with you, don't you?" Jango asked.

"I suppose you're going to tell me anyway." Naruto responded with a small smile.

"I thought of you happy in a comfy bed, resting and relaxing, spending the rest of your life sipping tea and reading papers while people bring you food and maids rub your toes and stuff."

"And?"

"And I just couldn't leave you to a fate like that… I'm too good a friend to let a mate of mine die in such a terrible situation."
"Comfortable?" Naruto asked, slightly incredulously.

"No. Boring." Jango answered, his grin widening.

Naruto sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache with all that was going on today. First Jango, then the performance, then Jango, then the ANBU, and now it was back to Jango again. It was like some sort of twisted cosmic joke that God was playing on him.

"You know that hat looks ridiculous." Naruto said, opening his eyes and glancing meaningfully at Jango's fedora.

"Fortunately, I can change hats," Jango said, "While you, sir, are stuck with that face."

End of Chapter One