07- Sienna


(I don’t want to see this)


To close one’s eyes mentally – can such a thing be done?


Unfortunately, he realizes all too quickly that it is an impossible task. His ‘curse’ is to see it all; to look through the eyes of the man - he now considers a mentor - at a world he once knew. He is to feel and experience it all no matter how dangerous it might become. His ‘curse’ is to live (trapped!) within the body of this man, and his inner effort to ‘look away’ from what he already witnesses is a futile struggle that mercilessly torments him.


(oh God…)


He can only stare helplessly as his (Naruto’s) hands run down a toned physique that he would never have imagined seeing in the present world. His skin is a delicious hue of light caramel; evidence of the sun’s favor upon him. And if the only visible hint of paleness comes from the lines formed by the uncomfortable undergarment, it is clear that Naruto has no problem displaying himself in the nude when he deems fit.


Still this body is not without its imperfections; for there are faint bruises on his knuckles (a fist fight perhaps?) and his fingernails look uneven as if he had been biting them to the quick. Familiar strong hands scoop up more water from the river to splash upon his skin, a barely audible wince escaping his lips as fingertips trace over the fading (yet ugly) purple contusion on his left ribcage. Despite this, other minute sensations creep in; the expected hardening of pink-hued nipples each time it comes in contact with the cool liquid, the low coil of pleasure to form in the pit of his stomach every time he moves his legs and the river responds with gentle wet licks against his oh-so-sensitive nether region.


He hums a tuneless song and allows his hand to slide beneath the surface, and when he begins the perfectly normal routine of washing his private parts, Sasuke feels himself die a little more inside. There’s nothing ‘odd’ about this. There should be nothing ‘wrong’ about this, for he does it himself when he takes a bath or shower at home. It’s perfectly normal for all males to wash themselves, and yet he burns at the familiar, yet unfamiliar, sensation of fondling (a bit longer than necessary in his humble opinion) twin sacs until he’s sure they’re clean enough. His pleasurable nightmare continues with the inevitable; the realization that those fingers are about to slide up and down the swollen cock in motions that has Naruto biting back an involuntary groan.


(oh dear God…please stop…don’t do this now)


But his vision fades with Naruto’s lashes fluttering shut and the fingers getting a little bolder…more definitive…its objective clear at this point. Moistened lips part to expel short breaths of air, every now and then a low gasp is released to match each masterful stroke. He knows what’s bound to get him off (it is his body after all), and when the slick finger of his left hand slowly finds its way to that hidden, tiny puckered opening behind, all bets are off as a shot of pleasure so potent, nearly sends his (their) knees buckling. His gasp becomes a low moan as he pushes in as far as he can go. His right hand jerks unevenly around his cock, and yet he dares himself to go even further. He withdraws and this time returns with two; wondering just how far he can go (his personal best was at three) and how long he can make it last. He bites hard on his lower lip. He doesn’t want to come just yet. He wants to prolong this moment; to sear this gradual swell of ecstasy that seems to be wrenched from every pore in his quivering body, within his mind. For he knows it’s a rare opportunity to really enjoy it without the pressure of pleasing another.




His voice sounds like a sob; a plea for he’s at his breaking point. His body is taut; that beautiful physique arched like a golden carving from the gods. His right hand is a blur; eyes squeezed shut; firm muscles squeezing against wet flesh. His toes curl. His heart thunders and roars with a tremendous rush of blood to the head. 




He explodes with a final gasped cry to the heavens; his entire body a shuddering mass of satiation, which has him almost drowning as he splashes back to earth. His fingers are sticky with his seed, but they wash away just as quickly; though he doesn’t fail to notice the thick white evidence mingling with the clearer fluid. He sighs in content and feels he can remain floating like this forever, for the sky had never looked so blue, the air has never smelled so fresh, the world has never looked so –


“Beautiful as always.”


Lashes, which have been growing heavier with weariness, fly open at the sound of the amused deep voice. He splashes up to tread water again; his heart a thudding drum in his chest for a whole other reason. A trembling hand reaches up to wipe his face as he finally notices the shadowed figure sitting on the bank and right upon his discarded clothes. Just as sudden as his shock, he is unable to stop the cold lump of fear to drop in the pit of his stomach; though he is angry that it is a fear laced with a helpless desire he’s struggled so long to eliminate to no avail.


And can anyone really blame him for his feelings? After all, knowing you were desired by one of the most prominent figures in the land is something to brag about. Naruto just wished it wasn’t this particular bastard.


(even after all these years)


He curses the day he laid eyes on Uchiha Madara.


And for Sasuke - who is still struggling to come to grips with such an intense spiritual, and intimate experience - gasps in disbelief as the name filters through Naruto’s thoughts to his.


Uchiha…Madara? An ancestor of his?






And yet there he was in the flesh from God knows where.


He sat crossed legged upon Naruto’s clothes, with an elbow resting upon his thigh to cradle his chin as he watched on with an expression that was a cross between lust and dark amusement. His features held that familiar ‘look’ that was exclusive to the Uchiha – a clan notoriously known for its exceptionally attractive people. Though there were slight bags of fatigue beneath his eyes, they still didn’t deter from the dangerous beauty each orb was capable of displaying especially when they had the tendency to change hues to a warm red whenever he became excited. They held a wicked intelligence Naruto had been firsthand privy to, but it was that massive mane of thick, black hair which fell to his waist – that was (just one of) his weakness. He couldn’t help the flood of color to fill his cheeks as he recalled the last time he had run his fingers through them and…


(what the hell am I thinking about now?!)


He growled and took a step back as if afraid of getting any closer or where his thoughts were leading him.


“What are you doing here?” he finally asked through clenched teeth. “I thought you were now stationed in Nagoya?”


“I missed you too much,” came the quick reply that didn’t help Naruto’s disposition.


He idly wondered if it was possible to blush oneself to death. God, he hated this guy.


(and yet…)


“Don’t I get a welcome hug, my love?” came the husky complaint. “I mean after that sinful display -”


“Just how long have you been there watching, you goddamn sick pervert?”


Madara chuckled and shrugged broad shoulders; allowing the sleeve of the well-made navy kimono to slide off his right shoulder. It revealed the wad of bandages around his upper arm, and as the sleeve fell even lower still, more bandages were seen around his torso. Naruto frowned at the sight, but said nothing. He was getting chilly; the earlier high from pleasuring himself now fading quickly, although it would have taken wild horses for to admit that the idea of Madara watching him all this time was actually…


“Really now, my dearest,” the older man cajoled with a mock pout. “Surely you aren’t going to ignore me? I’ve done quite well controlling myself, and I need you to take care of the little problem you’ve created.”


To emphasize his point, he finally unfolded his legs to spread them apart a little, allowing Naruto to see the obvious bulge which had formed between them.


The blond gritted his teeth and formed clenched fists at his sides. He would do his best to ignore the sudden heat to fill him. He would ignore how his heart suddenly seemed to be beating to its own wild rhythm. He would tell himself that he hadn’t missed the asshole; that for the past few months while he had wandered around like a lost sheep, some nights had been spent pining for him –


(despite everything)


“I’m not doing it,” he said aloud.


“Oooh?” Madara raised his brows as if shocked and tapped his magnificent katana lying beside him absently. Naruto was quick to notice that his sword was also now in the other man’s possession as if protecting them, but he knew better. If he didn’t do as Madara asked…


“Let me go,” he demanded, though it came out as anything but. He knew he was going to lose this fight anyway, and he hated the way it made him sound. Desperate and needy.


“I’ve traveled a long way,” Madara stated quietly. His dark eyes glinted with a hint of impatience now. “And what’s the first thing I hear when I return? You’ve been getting yourself in all sorts of trouble. Isn’t it enough that I keep saving your sorry ass each and every time? Even Izuna is at his limits.”


Naruto’s jaw worked, but he kept stubbornly silent. Madara sighed and held up Naruto’s sword as if in offering.


“Remember who saved you from the gallows five years ago, Uzumaki Naruto, and who has saved you from death so many times since then.”


Naruto’s lips curled into a sneer. “Just because you kiss the shogun’s ass doesn’t mean you have to keep using that over me all the time. I know damn well just how many times you’ve saved me, and each time you make me pay by using my goddamn body whenever and however you want. Aren’t you sick of it already?”


“I can never get sick of you and your body. You know that,” came the response, so unexpectedly tender, Naruto was helpless to stop the flush to his features. He struggled to maintain his fury and displeasure at this unholy relationship they had, and yet –


(I still want…)


“You still fascinate me, Naruto,” Madara was saying, and to Naruto’s dismay, was now rising to his feet to wade into the river with deliberate steps; the katana and eventually the kimono being discarded to reveal the hardened body beneath.


Naruto moaned in misery.


(please…don’t come any closer…I beg you…)


“From the moment I saw you,” Madara continued huskily; dark eyes holding pained blue ones prisoner, unrelenting, almost suffocating with its intensity. “I knew you were something special.”


“You…you keep saying that,” Naruto whispered hoarsely.


It really did feel as if this man was hypnotizing him; that if he kept staring into those beautiful dark eyes all his secrets would be exposed, and that no matter how many times he tried to run away…to escape this fate…it was going to be impossible. Madara had him tangled in his web of sin and decadence, and even as he felt those strong (yet somewhat cold) fingers wrap around his neck, Naruto couldn’t find the willpower to pull away.


“I’ve missed you, my dearest,” Madara moaned against his lips (a hint of a kiss) and into his ear; his warm breath sending shivers of helpless desire down his spine. And when the sensitive lobe was caught between his teeth, Naruto was unable to control his breathless cry of resignation.


He dug his finger nails into the scarred back and finally gave himself into temptation.


Such would be his damned fate when it came to the men of the Uchiha clan.





A month later, he was ‘free’ to do as he pleased; only because Madara had been called out of town again, and Naruto was no longer kept ‘prisoner’ in his opulent home.


He was almost ashamed to step outside with all the mementos Madara had been so nice enough to leave behind on his body. Though he felt he ought to be glad the sadistic bastard was considerate enough to leave them in places that weren’t so visible (well except for his wrists which were still raw from straining against the ropes he had been bound with). Madara had insisted on leaving near painful kiss marks upon his inner thighs, but the worst would have to be the bites underneath his arms and upon his neck. He still didn’t and couldn’t understand why Madara hadn’t gotten over his strange fetish of sucking his blood - a routine that started two years ago - and despite Naruto asking over and over why he felt it necessary to go that far, he got no real response for his pestering. Madara would either feign sleep or skip the subject all together.


He absently rubbed his neck, which was hidden from public view with a black wool scarf, and bit his lower lip in thought.


(strange indeed)


At least he had cleaner clothes and looked much more decent than he was before his demanding lover/master returned, and with the extra cash tucked in his kimono, Naruto felt he could at least enjoy himself for a while. Hell, if he was lucky, Madara’s trip would keep him away for the rest of the year.


Still, he hated to admit that a part of him did miss being in the older man’s presence, for despite his overbearing, arrogant, and temperamental exterior, Madara could actually reveal a tender side when you least expected it. It was in the way he was sometimes simply content to caress Naruto’s hair and face while he read through the many scrolls of important government documents in the warm confines of his (their) bedroom, or offer to wash the blond’s back while they took a bath, or cuddle with Naruto after another passionate session as if afraid to let him go.


That was the side of Madara he loved – the one whose smile could make his heart flutter a million times over, and who could call out his name in a way that made him want to submit to his every whim. It was that Madara he loved still, though it had been hard to feel that way when he was first ‘kidnapped’ at the age of sixteen.


Well perhaps kidnapped was too strong a word. More like sworn into a verbal contract he was never going to wheedle his way out of.


Five years ago, he had joined a band of miscreants; a ruthless gang of ronin hell bent on robbing anything and everything belonging to the elite samurai of the Shogunate. Their aim was to attack the homes of most of the high-ranking government officials, and being an impressionable kid, Naruto had bought into their cries for arms against the greedy hounds willing to steal from the poor to fatten their coffers. He should know considering he was nothing more than a church rat himself.


(and let’s not forget the other things…)


Those were the things he would rather not remember, and still they’d plague him as he wandered around the countryside with the ronin; praying that this thing inside of him wouldn’t break free especially when he was provoked. He tried to keep to himself and to do as he was told, and when he was mocked for not being too good with the sword, he devoted himself to practicing long into the wee hours of the morning until his palms bled with the effort. He knew he still wasn’t an expert with the katana, but he was determined to do his share to help his band of brothers, and what better way than to show his other non-threatening skills? He knew he was incredibly fast, and could outrun even the fittest of the men older than him. His small frame was useful for getting into tight spaces, and he was usually used as bait to distract guards on duty while the ronin did their job.


For a few months, they were successful with their raids and his initial feelings of queasiness at the unnecessary murders that took place soon became a routine that was second nature. He tried to justify seeing the decapitations and stabbings as poetic justice for they all truly deserved it. However, it still bothered him a little to witness the senseless raping of the women (and some men) as if to add insult to injury. Whenever those happened, he would creep away to hide until it was all over.


Every good raid came with exuberant celebration; sometimes nights spent drinking sake until he passed out, or being taken to the red light district, where he would eventually lose his virginity to a rather doll-like (and emotionless) whore. It would also be the first time he garnered the interest of other men, due to his slender frame and rather striking features. Here in the city, he was considered exotic, and many a time had he noticed several lecherous samurai ogle at him shamelessly with the desire to possess him. It was his ‘whiskers’ which earned him the nickname ‘chiisa na kitsune’ among his gang mates. He secretly loathed it, but dared not tell it to their faces.


He would suffer the teasing for it really was nothing compared to the life he had lived before meeting them. How could he explain to them the pain and fear to fill him whenever he noticed the icy stares of hate and loathing for his unique features? That he had come from a place where warmth (from anyone and anything) had been impossible to achieve, where no one seemed willing to acknowledge his existence, and when they did, it was to hiss, back away, or flee in terror.


/Get away from us, you spawn of the Devil!/

/You have brought nothing but bad luck to this town!/


Chased away when he dared to walk the streets; with sticks and stones and kicks and shoves. While other children laughed and adults scorned. When he couldn’t understand why he was being treated so badly, and would dare to tug on the hem of the daimyo’s clothes, begging for food…some form of compassion. Forgiveness for whatever sin he had committed. He was only a child. He did not comprehend, but the reaction was still the same. A loathing so potent, it warped the samurai’s features; a katana raised- its blade glinting beneath the mid-morning sun. It was poised for his neck. It would take him out if he remained there. He would die like a dog on these streets, and so he fled with an anguished cry. Never to be ‘seen’ again.


For years he remained hidden in the mountains, choosing to live amongst the trees and beasts, for they were at least more lenient with him and could tolerate his presence without judgment. His only venture to civilization was to steal food or clothing to sustain his life; though he wished for death so many times especially during the coldest of winters.


Hence, he considered it fate when this band of merry criminals trashed through his hideout, that hot summer day, and its leader took to him immediately.


“Looks like we’ve found ourselves a new member, men,” he had bellowed with a warm smile. “Come with us, young fox, and we will give you a much better life than this.”


For the first time in his life, he knew what it meant to be in a ‘family’. There was camaraderie among these guys that he had never experienced before, and knowing that despite everything, they would stand by him and protect him; filled him with such happiness, it was impossible to put into words. The icing on the cake was knowing that the leader did actually consider him as a baby brother, and went above and beyond his call of duty to protect his dear ‘chii-chan’. Naruto, in turn, would come to love and cherish Hiromi-san so much, that it was a devastating blow to him when he was eventually captured and beheaded by the Shogun’s police in a public execution.  


They had been betrayed by someone within the gang, and though Naruto was inconsolable for days at the loss of the one true person he had loved, what happened next was even worse.


The gang was in complete disarray.


The next-in-command deserted them without warning, causing the others to try to escape the clutches of the determined police force, ironically led by the Uchiha clan. Naruto could still remember trying to flee with the aid of the darkness; hiding within empty shacks during the day and choosing to travel by night. However, after almost two weeks with little food or water, Naruto was eventually captured at the outskirts of the city.


/Filthy brat! Don’t know how you still have the energy to kick and scream when you’re nothing but stick and bones!/


Even now, he still shudders at the memory of being stripped down to his undergarments; his legs and hands bound with thick ropes that dug into his skin and made them raw as he was hung from the rafters of the large storage barn (or torture chamber) for endless hours. When the first burning sting of the whip tore through his flesh, his howl of pain was unlike anything he’d ever given before. He told himself he could deal with the punishment; that he had suffered through worse and he would get through this no matter what. However, with every powerful lash and the metallic taste filling his mouth, he became weaker…


(and the thing inside stronger…enraged…darker…)


…unable to hang on until he passed out and was awoken with a douse of brine that worsened the angry welts all over his body. Blood flowed freely from broken flesh, and even as he struggled to control his emotions, he could still feel it; the dark rage bubbling within that threatened to spill out in a rush. He knew what was going to happen if he gave in, and yet when he saw his torturer approach with yet another whip being wrapped around his hand, Naruto finally snapped.


(at last!)


He couldn’t tell you exactly what happened, but all he could remember was suddenly bolting out of the burning building for his dear life. Not caring how many innocents were affected by his sudden display of inhuman strength.


And still they chased.


[Don’t let him get away! Catch that son-of-a-bitch! He must be arrested!]


Fear and yet hysteria seized him in a vice-like grip. He heard the roar of the ocean below and he contemplated running…running…running right off and into…


“Whoa there, young man. Don’t go doing something you’re going to regret.”


Strong arms – from seemingly nowhere – wrapped around his waist and yanked him back with so much force; he was lifted off his feet in one swift move. The first thing to cross his mind was just how strong this man was, and secondly, just how much hair he had. However, it wasn’t until he found himself staring into those dark eyes filled with unspoken secrets, would Naruto finally feel himself unwilling to fight any longer. He would eventually pass out in exhaustion, only to awaken to drifts and bits of conversation that went a little something like:


“…fire you say?”

“…can’t explain it…everything just went up in flames…”

“…boy was not hurt at all?”

“You saw him…hardly a scratch…”

“I wouldn’t call those welts and wounds a scratch. You overstepped your boundaries with him….will be under my custody from now on…”


And that was that.


He would awaken, fully, a few days later to the warmth and comfort of a real bed, and Madara silently studying him as if he were a unique specimen.


Naruto’s initial reaction had been to run away in fear, for he now recognized who the man was (having seen the famous samurai from afar a few times in the past). To think that he was actually in the presence of Uchiha Madara – considered to be the most talented yet youngest man to be designated as head of the military police…!


(I’m definitely dead now)

“Don’t be afraid,” came the surprisingly gentle words laced with a small smile. “You can worry less about being hunted down by the police now. We’ve come to an agreement of sorts.”




Madara, who was kneeling beside the bed all this time, reached out to caress Naruto’s cheek as if unable to control himself. At the blond’s visible shudder, his handsome features fell as if disappointed. “You will no longer be hunted by the police,” he repeated. “You are now under my personal protection, Naruto.”


“…how do you know my name?”


There was a mysterious quirk of his lips and his eyes seemed to darken with malevolent intent before disappearing just as quickly as it appeared. “I am the police, remember? It is my job to know the names of every criminal that crosses my path, and you must not forget that you are just that…a criminal who has to pay his dues.”


“What do you want me to do?”


He had visions of being made to work in the mines or mountains digging up rocks for days on end, but at the soft chuckle and another tender caress of his cheek, Madara simply replied enigmatically.


“Oh, you’ll see, my dearest one. You’ll see.”


Madara kept his word, for after almost six months of having Naruto as his personal manservant – simply doing nothing but chores around the house and running errands – the young samurai was finally ready to claim his reward.


It was Naruto’s first time with a man, and he had hoped his last. Nothing about it had been pleasurable for he could remember kicking, screaming, scratching and crying out in horrified pain as he was taken rather roughly until something thick and warm coated his most intimate of places. As blood and semen trickled between his thighs and onto the sheets, Naruto felt he would never be whole again. Madara had broken something inside of him, yet managed to awaken a perverted desire to experience more of this pain and residual pleasure.


When it was finally over, he remembered Madara lifting his unresisting body into the bath; washing him tenderly and promising to be a little gentler next time, for he had been holding back all these months and simply couldn’t control himself. He showered Naruto with kisses reserved for lovers, tended to his wounds and left him alone for a week after that to heal. The second time around, it was less painful but still not something he could get used to. Though he was less animated and combative, he still didn’t respond in a way that pleased his lover. Naruto wondered if it was better for him to just be sent to the mountains instead of having to deal with this night after night, but it appeared Madara had other plans.


He began to woo Naruto, much to the blond’s embarrassment.


Madara’s trips to different towns would earn him gifts in the form of the sweetest (and most expensive) candy treats, the finest silk kimonos, or rare souvenirs especially those bought from the Dutch foreigners. He hated to admit that he enjoyed being spoiled, and that seeing Madara smile like an idiot when he was pleased with any particular gift made him feel ‘funny’ inside. In return, he’d receive a tender kiss on the cheek or forehead or a gentle squeeze of his hand. He never made any overt sexual advances, and for the rest of the year, Madara kept his distance – at least in the bedroom.


Naruto, who had initially appreciated the gesture and now felt more comfortable about going to sleep without being pounced on, began to feel a little…well…lonely. It got worse when he learned, from the other servants, that Madara had begun visiting the red light district more often to satisfy himself. Rumor was even spreading that he had found someone new – a much prettier young man to keep him pleased.


(is that so?)


Jealousy gnawed at his insides like a parasite, though he tried not to reveal it to the older man. Instead, he set about doing his best to garner Madara’s interest again. He was more diligent during the day; making sure his master’s office space was neat and tidy, that his tea and snacks were brought on time and that he was at Madara’s beck and call should he be needed. He would wash and prepare himself every night, making sure he dressed in the fine kimonos his master bought for him. He even made an attempt to learn how to play the shamisen, though he gave up after realizing he sounded like a drunken man and was probably annoying his partner with the racket he was making. If Madara noticed Naruto’s extra attention, he did not acknowledge it overtly. All he would do was to pat the boy on his head and thank him for a job well done.


After a month of this, Naruto finally had enough.


“Do you want me or not?” he eventually snapped impatiently one night while Madara was yet again buried over his documents.


The officer had looked up with a bemused expression; dark eyes taking in the trembling figure loosely draped in a lovely pastel kimono. It brought out the blue of Naruto’s eyes and for a moment his breath caught at how exquisite the young man was.


“What do you mean, Naruto?” he asked politely. “Is there something bothering you?”


“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Naruto growled; angry to feel the tears forming in his eyes. Damn it to hell and back. “You’re getting tired of me, aren’t you? I annoy you, don’t I?”


“Naruto -”


“You know what I am, don’t you? Someone told you what I really am, didn’t they?”


Something unreadable and dark flashed within Madara’s eyes, but he said nothing.


Naruto took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, unaware of how majestic the posture made him appear to be. “It’s all right if you find me irritating,” he stated with words that shook with passion. “But you’re just going to have to get used to it. I have no plans to change who I am just because you don’t like me any longer. I’m sorry I can’t be as pure and untainted as the slut you keep going to see over there!”


Madara sighed. “You’re raving like a lunatic, Naruto. Go to bed. It’s been a long day for both of us and…”


And whatever else he might have said was quickly lost in the oh-so-pleasurable and delightful sensation of warm, trembling inexperienced lips pressed hard against his. Naruto’s slender arms snaked around his neck and held on tightly; the salt of his tears mingling with the sweet taste of their saliva as tongues met hungrily. Someone growled and Naruto felt the strong arm around his waist to lift him upon powerful thighs now spread apart…an open invitation if he dared.


When they finally pulled apart for air, it was for fevered gazes to collide as foreheads met gently in silent understanding.


“You drive me to my breaking point, Naruto. You know that, don’t you?” Madara groaned as the boy sucked on his fingers to begin preparing himself as his master had taught him so many nights ago.


“What am I ever going to do with you?” came the husky broken words against his gazelle-like neck.


“Anything you wish,” Naruto whispered as he slowly impaled himself with a soft sigh of relief albeit slight pain after being deprived for so long. He buried his fingers into the thick mane of hair, pressed his face against the soft tresses, inhaled greedily of that intoxicating scent and began to move his hips.


(oh God yes)


“I’m all yours…”




He smiled absently at the pretty girl who served him yet another plate of delicious dango, so lost in his thoughts he couldn’t even remembering ordering the first one. Either way, the sweet dumplings upon his tongue was refreshing, and washing it down with some green tea made it even better. The roadside restaurant was not busy at this time of the day, and his only companions were an old man fast asleep on the bench outside, and a mother feeding her toddler the sweet treats.


Naruto sighed and looked to the heavens, noticing the darkening clouds in the distance. Looked like it really was going to rain this evening, so he’d probably have to go back to Madara’s place for the night instead of running off as he had planned. He knew Izuna, Madara’s younger brother and the chief of police when big brother wasn’t in town – would whine and bitch about his disappearance again, but compared to Madara, Izuna was almost a saint. Naruto had come to know just the right words to say to the younger Uchiha sibling to coax his way out of any trouble.


Speaking of darkening clouds, didn’t the ‘change’ in their relationship start about two years ago?


Naruto sucked on the skewer absently; his gaze distant as he tried to recall just what happened.





Madara had returned from yet another of his many trips (Naruto had lost track at this point), looking more banged up than usual. His morose silence was even worse, and though Naruto had playfully teased him as he washed his back and tended to his wounds, Madara had appeared distracted and preoccupied. His performance in bed wasn’t any better. He seemed to go through the motions, though something had sparked within those dark eyes at the sight of blood from the small nick made upon Naruto’s wrist while clutching the headboard.


Naruto, who was still trying to catch his breath from his orgasm, could only watch with a raised brow as Madara – as if in a daze – reached for his wrist to raise it slowly to his lips.


“What are you…aaah…”


Naruto whimpered at the sudden sensation of Madara’s lips upon the wound, followed by an intense sucking – as if the older man was determined to drain every drop of blood from him – which finally made Naruto cry out and try to push the other man way.


“Stop it! That hurts!”


At first Madara’s crimson eyes still held that manic look of hunger within, but eventually cleared as he shook his head lightly. He blinked a few times as if to orient himself back to the present before looking at the boy clutching his bruised arm to his chest with frightened blue eyes.


“What’s wrong with you?” Naruto had asked in a fearful whisper. “You’ve been acting strange since you came back.”


“I…” Madara’s jaw worked as if struggling to say something, but he seemed to be against it as he shook his head and left the room without another word. He would not return to bed that night…or the night after.


Worried that his master was sick, Naruto had done his best to try to help; offering himself and hoping the sucking episode wouldn’t happen again. Unfortunately, it didn’t go as planned. When Madara did finally agree to be with him again, he was the one to cause the wound; sharp canines breaking the skin of his left shoulder which made Naruto wince in pain. He tried to protest, but ended up whining with reluctant pleasure at the wet sensation of Madara’s tongue lapping at the bite; his arms tightening around Naruto’s waist as if drawing strength from the smaller frame against his. Again, he drank thirstily, low sounds of pleasure rumbling from deep within him as he took his fill. A part of Naruto was terrified of this new side to his lover, and yet he dared not tell him to stop. If this was what it took to keep Madara happy, then so be it. He could drink from him for as long as he wanted.


Or so he had thought.


It was fine with the little bites here and there, but when the dagger had come into play (watching in horror as the blade would pierce his skin in perfect straight lines), Naruto finally put his foot down by running away the very next night. He was lucky enough to escape for a few months, but Madara – who seemed to have spies every damn place – found him soon enough and he was returned bound and gagged and nearly beaten to an inch of his life by overzealous officers eager to please their boss.


Luckily the dagger was kept away for a  while, but Naruto was never really comfortable in Madara’s presence anyway. No matter how much the older man tried to placate and sweet-talk his way into Naruto’s good graces, the blond was now more on guard, cautious, and unwilling to give in as completely as he did.


“You’re not yourself,” he whispered one night  as they lay side-by-side; skins pleasantly flushed from an intense passionate encounter which left both parties satisfied. “Why won’t you talk to me and tell me what’s going on?”


For a moment, Naruto was sure he was going to be ignored, but all he saw was a sudden weariness (sadness?) within those eyes he had come to love. Madara reached out to caress his cheek, fingertips tracing the outline of each whisker reverently.


“There is a world out there,” came the quiet words that were barely audible. It was as if he was speaking to himself and not his concerned lover before him. “A world out there I hope you never get to see, my dearest.”


“Wha…what are you talking about? Is it your job? Is it becoming more difficult?”


Madara gave a wry smile. “Oh, you have no idea. I wish I could keep you in this house forever, my love. To protect you from what is out there, but you keep running away…giving them the ability to find you, and I will not have that.”


“You’re not making any sense,” Naruto whispered fearfully. “Who’s out there to find me besides your officers? What are you protecting me from?”


“You belong to me,” Madara continued as if Naruto had never spoken at all. There was a distant expression on his visage now; an arm snaking around to pull Naruto even closer to him. “I will not let them take you away from me. You are mine. You will always be mine.”


At that time, Naruto had felt a low warmth of happiness at those words, not really bothering to understand what they meant. All he knew was that Madara loved him and wanted him…


(he’s using you…using us! Open your eyes, you stupid kid!)


…and he would stubbornly refuse to listen to that voice that was getting louder and louder within him. He wanted to continue believing in this twisted fairytale, and yet it would sometimes take Madara simply looking at him with that terrifying hunger, to send his blood running cold all over again. It was a dangerous dance now; to love him and yet fear the man at the same time. To seek solace outside of that claustrophobic home whenever Madara left town for his mysterious trips, and to return with the hope that things would have changed.


(never again…the Madara you once knew is no longer there. Can’t you see?)


And just when he had somehow managed to convince himself to run away and never, ever, ever return to Madara again, guess who shows up to shatter the tentative wall he had built to protect himself?






“Naruto?! Oy! Is that you?!”


Naruto was jerked out his reverie; eyes widening as he recognized the grinning dark-skinned man waving and walking toward him with excitement.


“Omoi?” he called out in disbelief as he rose to his feet; almost overturning the table with how fast he moved. “You’re still alive? I don’t fucking believe it!”


They jumped into each other’s arms in a clumsy dance/embrace, both too thrilled to be bothered at the weird looks they received from the other patrons and restaurant owners at their antics.


“I thought for sure you were dead!” Naruto cried out, while wiping the tears from his eyes.


Omoi grinned; his teeth almost too white against the tanned hue of his skin. His short white hair made him stand out even more, and he was dressed in a rather well-made black kimono – a stark contrast to the shabbier ones he used to wear while they were in Hiromi’s gang. As if noticing Naruto’s approving look, he spun around once and posed.


“What do you think, eh? Not too bad for a man wanted by the Bakufu, eh?”


Naruto laughed and patted his back, urging him to sit down as they both straightened out the table. Omoi was only a year older than him, and though they hadn’t really been tight friends back then, Omoi was one of the few who didn’t tease him as much. They both enjoyed doing the same things actually, and whenever there was a down time for the gang, Omoi would either take him fishing or try to teach him how to use his sword. He was a terrible teacher though, for he had the tendency to talk a lot or get lost in his thoughts for hours at a time.


As he ordered himself (and Naruto) more plates of dango, he regaled the blond about how he and two other gang members had hidden in the bowels of the home of a merchant dealer for a few months. It was hard times for them, but the merchant was able to pull some strings and finally got them on a boat heading for Okinawa. They survived by working as fishermen for a while, before the life of crime came beckoning again; this time dealing with shipment of cargo from one side of the country to the other.


“It’s a great job,” Omoi said earnestly, though his voice was lowered as he leaned over the table to stare intensely at his companion. “We work at night mostly, usually gunning for the foreign ships with their fancy weapons and gunpowder, fine wine, perfumes, linen and let’s not even talk about the money they hoard on those things.” He whistled and downed the rest of his tea in a gulp, took a deep breath, belched and grinned at his silent friend. “I guess its fate that brought us together again, my friend, because I was just thinking the other day of just how useful you’d be for some of our missions…”


Naruto was already shaking his head with a small wistful smile. “Nah…I’m through with that, my brother. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a common thief anymore.”


Omoi smirked and raised a brow. “I guess the rumors are true then.”


Naruto’s eyes narrowed. “What rumors?”


“That you’ve become Uchiha Madara’s bitch.”


Naruto turned crimson and glared at the smug grin on the other man’s face. “That’s a lie,” he hissed beneath his breath. “I’m no longer with him.”


“Oh really? Then come with me right now,” Omoi taunted. “Take up your katana and follow me, Uzumaki Naruto. Prove me wrong.”


Naruto clenched his hands into fists on his lap. The offer was tempting, so very tempting, and he could almost feel the wind in his air and the tangy scent of the sea filling his senses – or maybe it was just Omoi who made him feel this way. He stared at his friend, seeing the robust happiness he seemed to exude.


(and what do I have to show for myself after all these years? Nothing but more dark and shameful secrets I can never reveal to anyone)


“Maybe you need some time to think,” Omoi offered amiably. “But you better think quickly. Our ship leaves tonight for Edo. We have a big operation there in a few weeks, so let me know when you decide.”


Naruto nodded slowly; his mind still whirling with endless possibilities. This was his chance, wasn’t it? Madara was already a day away into his journey. Izuna posed no threat to him, so why not? Why not take this opportunity to really free himself from Madara’s power over him?


“You have until the midnight hour, my friend,” Omoi was saying as he rose to his feet. “If I do not see you at the docks by then, we will leave without you. Though I won’t say I won’t be disappointed if you choose to remain in this damned town, so I really hope you make the right choice. See you around, my friend.”


He left with a two-fingered wave over his shoulder, leaving Naruto to stare after him until he was nothing more than a speck in the horizon. For a long moment, he remained frozen on the bench, the conflicting thoughts on what he ought to do nearly driving him insane. It wasn’t until the first heavy drops of rain to fall from the heavens, did he finally rouse himself out of his daydream to survey his surroundings. The restaurant owners and their lovely daughter were running around trying to close down the windows and protect their furniture from getting wet.


Dreading getting soaked himself, Naruto managed to haggle with the old man for his umbrella, and ended up shelling out three ryō – pretty steep for the pathetic looking thing - but at least it would protect him a little.


Grumbling beneath his breath, he began the jog  to Madara’s home, though Omoi’s invitation still buzzed around his head incessantly. To go to Edo…how tempting. He had always wanted to visit that place, and though he had begged Madara a few times in the past to take him there, his lover had always declined with some random excuse or another.


Just for a while. I’ll just go this time…see what the fuss is about and return before getting into more trouble, Naruto thought as he approached the center of town where its narrow streets were almost deserted. The rain was now a downpour and visibility was next to impossible. He could hardly walk without the fear of tripping over himself and falling flat onto the muddy road.


He winced as a sudden gust of wind caused the umbrella to twist its way inside out, and try as he might to force it back into shape, it snapped in two and was torn out of his hands.


“Fuck!” he cursed in frustration, throwing his hands over his head (as if that would help) and darting into the nearest lit building, which luckily turned out to be an inn. He apologized profusely to the innkeeper – a wizened woman with too much makeup on her features – and reassured her he was simply staying until the rain stopped. Besides, he couldn’t afford to spend any more money today. He doubted that stingy bastard (Izuna) would spare anymore.


“You stay in here,” the hostess was saying as she ushered Naruto into a small room – probably the cheapest – with only a low table and a plain large pillow available. There wasn’t even a damn futon to lay down in, and he was quick to give her the middle finger once the screen door was slammed shut behind her.


Pouting, he slumped on his stomach and closed his eyes, the heavy yet steady pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof, nearly lulling him to sleep. He wasn’t sure, but he felt he might have been dreaming when he began to hear the rising voices in the room beside him. He lifted weary lashes and tried to change positions on the uncomfortable floor, wishing the bastards next door would shut up already.


However, just as he was about to drift back into fitful sleep, the familiar timbre of a voice he was sure ought to be miles away, had him lifting his lashes again quickly.


(huh? can’t be…just hearing things…)


And yet there was no mistaking it. Call it a lover’s intuition or just having heard that voice so many times in the past, it was almost like a subtle calling to his innermost carnal desires. He sat up and moved closer to the thin screen wall ; straining to catch what was going on.


“…cannot do this…”

“…tell me…how…not here…”


Shit. Don’t understand a damn thing, Naruto mused in frustration. He had no idea why he felt it necessary to listen in to their conversation, but he knew if he didn’t satisfy his curiosity on who the familiar voice belonged to, he was never going to sleep for the rest of the night. With a grunt of determination, he crawled on all fours toward the screen door leading to the verandah. He knew he was likely to incur the wrath of the inn hostess if the rain got indoors, but Naruto was too far gone in his quest to care. He stepped – with bare feet – unto the wet patio and closed the door quickly behind him.


“I must be insane,” he chattered as the cold seeped into his flesh, while tiptoeing toward the next room with his back pressed against the wall behind him. Luckily, the verandah connected both rooms and all he had to do was crouch and not garner their attention. The rain continued to pelt him mercilessly, but as he dared to crane his neck to look into the well lit room, his breath caught in his throat and he nearly fell off and into the garden at the sight before him.


(it’s…impossible! It can’t be! He’s supposed to be in Osaka!)


But how couldn’t it be? Who else in the world had that familiar long mane of black hair he had kissed and caressed and worshipped a million times over? Who else had indulged in his hair fetish and would sometimes wrap said hair around him like a cloth, both giggling like children at the ticklish sensation even as he found himself getting terribly aroused at the heavenly silkiness of those locks on his skin?


Naruto slapped his cheeks hard to gather himself, and squinted against the rain to see who else was in the room.


Madara, of course, with his back to him. Izuna on his left with his profile looking agitated, and two other strange men he had never seen before dressed in the finest of kimonos. One of them looked positively regal, with long straight black hair that fell to his waist and a frown on handsome features that were trained squarely on Madara. The other had shaggy white hair. His eyes seemed to glow a dull maroon, and his handsome features (almost similar to the dark-haired man at his side) was adorned with three red markings to give him a distinct look. His expression was just as annoyed, and with his arms folded across his chest, it appeared as if the two strangers were not too pleased with whatever Madara was telling them.


“…you know he belongs to us,” the dark-haired one was saying. “Keeping him as your personal plaything does not help anyone, Madara.”


“And giving him to you wolves is the best solution?” Madara sneered. “I don’t think so, Hashirama. Go back to your region and leave us be. It will be a cold day in Hell before I hand him over to you vultures.”


“The biju was created to help defeat the Malevolents,” Hashirama replied tightly. “It was a power created for good, not to feed your personal cravings. Do you think we have not noticed your increase in strength the past few battles?”


“I do not know what you speak of -”


“Do not think we are fools,” the white-haired one finally spoke in a tone that was anything but patient. “You have displayed skills you never possessed before and it all started the moment you realized how you could access his power.”


Izuna, who had been listening to all this with widening eyes glanced at his brother in dismay. He shook his head slowly as if trying not to believe what he was hearing. “It’s not true,” he began in a small voice. “My brother would never do something like that.”


“Then ask him why he’s so adamant on keeping the boy. You cannot tell me it’s because he has developed feelings for him.” The word ‘feelings’ was said in a way to make Naruto cringe with humiliation.


“My relationship with Naruto is of no concern to you,” Madara snapped, and for Naruto, who heard his name so suddenly, gave a low gasp which would have probably given him away if a sudden clap of thunder didn’t choose to interrupt at the same time. His heart was a throbbing ache in his throat, likely to fall right out of his mouth if he dared speak. They were talking about him. whatever was going on…it was all about him.


(a biju…what is that? Is that what I am?)


“You Senju,” Madara spat out coldly. “Using anyone available for your sickening experiments. If you hadn’t given Minato the ability to seal the beast within the child, none of this would have happened. You only had to give us the rights to control the biju from the beginning and such horrific disasters would have been prevented.”


Hashirama shrugged his shoulders lightly. “The reason the biju was sealed in the boy was because he was the offspring of incredibly powerful spirit world warriors. He was the chosen one, likely to become the greatest fighter we’ve ever had. With the biju within him, we would finally be able to deal with The Darkness. We would no longer have to fear its threat. We accept that we failed to foresee the tragedy the boy caused with the death of his entire village even his parents, but we lost sight of him after that. For years we searched for him to no avail…”


He stopped for Madara’s shoulders were shaking. It wasn’t until he threw his head back and laughed loud and long, did they all realize he was amused by whatever Hashirama had said.


“Searched for him?” Madara cackled. “Searched for him you say? Don’t make me laugh, you liars! You immortal freaks, with your fanciful powers, should have been able to find him easily. Let’s be honest here,” he said with a smirk as the laughter died suddenly. “The only reason you want him now is because you are getting weaker. Your armies are being destroyed by The Darkness and now you seek him to use for  your own bidding. Give me a break.”


He began to rise to his feet. “Let’s go, Izuna,” he commanded only to find himself suddenly slammed to the floor, for the white-haired man had moved so fast, even Naruto had seen nothing more than a blur.


“Let him go, Tobirama,” Hashirama said with a soft sigh. “It’s no use fighting with him. Remember that cursed ability of his to weaken  us.”


Tobirama growled with fury, perhaps wishing he could punch the smirk right off Madara’s face. He reluctantly released his fingers and sat back  with a scowl.


“You are a hypocrite, Madara,” he finally spat out venomously. “You say you despise us for what we are, and yet  you drink off his blood to gain his strength for you know it gives you more life and makes you stronger. How long do you think it’s going to go on before he realizes the truth? It’s only a matter of time, don’t you think?”


“Then I’ll take him away from here…or kill him before I let you put your filthy paws on him.”


Naruto froze; his heart thudding loudly in his ears.




“If it means having to extract the biju from him myself, then I will. He’s matured enough to be able to handle it, but if not…then I guess that’s one less body to worry about.”


Hashirama’s jaw tightened. “You kept him all these years just to make sure he was mature enough?”


“He was only sixteen when I plucked  him,” Madara replied with a cold smile. “His body was so delicate, and just taking an ounce of the biju from him was likely to kill him on the spot. I had to bide my time. He’s almost twenty-one now – a man by all accounts – and it’s likely his body should be able to deal with the extraction process, but if not…” He shrugged and rose to his feet albeit unsteadily while caressing his neck. There were already faint bruises forming from Tobirama’s attack.


“My advice is to stay away from me and my family during this time,” Madara warned; his expression dark and dangerous. “I have the ability to summon enough yōkai to send you all to your deaths, so do not revel in your immortality just yet.”


“I do not understand why you fight against us,” Hashirama cried out; the frustration evident in his words. “You are like us! Our ancestors have always worked together to defeat the evil darkness that threatens us and mere mortals. Why would you wish to go against that?!”


“Because I despise the very notion of it. Your existence is profane to the doctrines of our ancestors and I’ll stop at nothing to eliminate you all,” Madara roared back; his features contorting in an expression so ugly, Naruto almost cried out at the sight. This couldn’t be the Madara  he had lived with and loved all these years. This couldn’t possibly be the same man. Who was this stranger before him? What had happened to the kind, gentle, tender lover who showered him with gifts and praises?


(it was all a ruse, remember? Didn’t I warn you? Didn’t I tell you that he has always known who you were from the beginning? But you…you weak pathetic human so desperate to be loved and needed by anyone. You turned a blind eye to the truth, didn’t you? Now what are you going to do, eh? Run back to him and ask him to be honest with you? Try to convince him with your broken body that he cannot kill you? Give it up, kid. He has never really cared for you. Not once. All you ever were to him was a vessel he had to cultivate. It’s me he’s always wanted. You are simply no longer needed)


He felt it then; something hardening within him as he took a tentative step backwards. He did not feel the rain anymore; could not feel anything at all. It was an almost pleasurable cloak of numbness, a realization that all he had ever known and believed was nothing more than a lie. He had given his heart and soul to that man –




…in the room, and it had been stomped on over and over again only to be discarded as nothing more than worthless trash.


(you’ve always been trash anyway…what’s so new now?)


He spun on his heels and walked away, not bothering to use the front door he had come through. He began to walk faster…and faster…and faster…until it became a jog…feet pounding lightly on the muddy earth.


(run away…that’s right…run away)


…and he did. His feet became a blur as he sped toward his freedom. His lungs screamed for air. His eyes stung with unshed tears. He was drenched to the bone, and yet he ran and ran and ran, never stopping until he smelled it; the sweet tangy salt of the heaving sea beckoning.


He looked down at the bustling port below and then at the waiting ships eager to take him away from this Hell. Omoi was waiting for him. Edo was waiting for him. And with a grim smile of determination on his features, Naruto tore down the hill with no care for his safety.


(for what good is this body anymore? I’ve been stripped away of what little hope for humanity I had left)


So come find me if you dare, Uchiha Madara, he vowed silently. Search tirelessly until your thirst for me drives you insane. For the next time we meet, I’ll be much stronger in mind and spirit, and I vow to repay the favor a thousand fold.



Chapter 08

Naruto Home





















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