Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ My, How Convenient ❯ The Mess ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

By: spare

Disclaimer: Naruto is copyright to Masashi Kishimoto-sensei.

Author's Introductions: English isn't my native language. Bitch about my grammar with that in mind, ok? If I messed up any Japanese terms, tell me nicely. If you enjoyed the fic, tell me that, too. Feedback! Feedback!

My, How Convenient

by spare

Chapter 1: The Mess

"Just make sure you don't screw up this time, dobe."

"I won't! And you're the one who messed up the last mission!"

"Hn."

"Yes, you did! Anyway, why do I have to be the girl?"

"You're the one who begged for this mission, remember? The Hokage just threw it my way."

"Why didn't you refuse, then?"

"Hn."

"Temee, Sasuke!"

x x x

Discreet, Naruto reminded himself for the umpteenth time that evening. I have to be discreet.

Keeping a low profile and blending in with his surroundings were never abilities one would associate with the blond-haired shinobi, but Naruto, in volunteering for this A-rank mission, wanted to prove to a certain well-endowed old lady that he was capable of such. Capable enough, in fact, for the lady to consider promoting him to ANBU.

'Volunteer' was perhaps too mild a word to use. Naruto had not volunteered so much as begged to be assigned this mission, that time he'd accidentally overheard the Fifth Hokage discuss with Asuma-sensei how Ino and Shikamaru needed to take a rest from their previous assignment even though they were perfect for the job. The only other shinobi who was currently unoccupied at the moment was Naruto, and Naruto was, well... you know. They had exchanged looks (Naruto couldn't see them at the time, of course, but his imagination had supplied that little tidbit just fine). The anti-thesis of what the job asked for.

And, of course, Naruto's ears had pricked up at that comment. And of course he came barging into Tsunade-baba's office from his eavesdropping spot behind the door. And of course he demanded that he be given the mission, whatever it was.

But the Fifth Hokage could be one stubborn old hag when she wanted to be one, so Naruto-kun's demands soon became half-courteous requests (he was careful to drop the -baba dishonorific he'd come to automatically associate with her name). Then pleas. Then outright groveling.

"PLEASE, HOKAGE-SAMA!!!" This, spoken from where he had sat himself on the floor of the Hokage's office, upper body bent forward in a full bow, the hitaiate tied to his forehead practically touching the floor. "Let me prove myself! I'm your man!"

"No, you aren't," Tsunade-baba had replied. Her next speech was a variation of the core message she had conveyed in the five days Naruto had come to pester her about the issue at hand. "Not for this job. I appreciate your abilities, Naruto-- you are a strong ninja in your own right, and far stronger now than most other shinobi I have met in my lifetime. Surely your becoming a jounin two years ago should have dispelled any self-doubts about your abilities. However--" Again there was that hated word, 'however' -- "the mission requires a certain amount of... discretion... on the part of those tasked to complete it. Nobody else must know about it, or more importantly, who did it. Certainly not the target, nor any other person from his home country.

And then she had shot a meaningful look at the blond's shock of yellow-gold hair, bangs feathering the sides of his ears at eighteen, and the loud orange-and-blue jumpsuit he still favored, as if all the childhood pranks and shadow clones and plain old charge-the-enemy-dead-on-and-devil-take-the-hindmost strategy had been distilled in his outward appearance. Then Tsunade would sigh, and that would be the end of their discussion.

Except it wasn't, not by a long shot. Naruto could be just as stubborn when he put his mind to it. Add that to his other well-known trait-- annoying (interrupting the Hokage over sake breaks, delivering Jiraiya's latest soon-to-be-published novel, with a special dedication at the first page, of course, and generally making her life less-than-peaceful), and it was only a matter of time before somebody's steely yet much-grated nerves snapped. It took two more days of Naruto's pestering before Tsunade-baba finally relented.

"But," the Hokage bargained, holding up one hand, "On one condition."

"What now?!" the blond shinobi inquired, interrupted from where he was literally bouncing happily all around the room.

Tsunade gave a smile that chilled Naruto's blood. "You get Sasuke as your partner for this mission."

x x x

And so here he was. Or, if we are to stick to semantics, here she was. Nope, that was no typo, folks. Naruto-kun was, at the moment, Naruko-chan, that voluptuous blonde, whiskered, blue-eyed bombshell the shinobi had mastered transforming himself into during his post-academy years. He'd even refined the sexy technique so that his female form could appear wearing any type of clothes. For this occasion, the blonde had opted for a Naruko-chan in a peach-blossom-patterned orange kimono that bared rather than covered the better part of her slender neck and shoulders, in the process exposing enough cleavage to keep a certain bald, dirty old man's eyes occupied. This bald, dirty old man was, incidentally, the target. And yes, he has a name.

"Oh, Nasu-sama!" Naruto squealed in his sweetest, girliest voice, even as he playfully swatted the old pervert's roving hands away from his chest for, well, the umpteenth time this evening. Discreet, dammit, he told himself. I have to be discreet. "Nasu-sama is such a player!" he continued, feeling his face muscles creak from the strain of smiling like a stereotypical dumb blonde happy to be pawed by the lecher all evening.

"Sorry about that, my dear," Nasu replied, looking anything but repentant. The thin line of drool trickling down the side of his thin, leering lips making the sentiment even less convincing.

Naruto fought the urge to gag, and smiled on. He moved to tie the blue obi holding his robe together more firmly about his waist, even though it served no real purpose other than to distract his hands from wanting to latch around the old man's neck, and squeeze. Slowly. Sasuke better show up at the rendezvous point pronto, the blond thought angrily.

It was, simply put, a retrieval mission. Nasu was a visiting dignitary from Thunder country, a close friend of one of the more influential feudal lords of that nation. He was here to attend the wedding ceremony of this feudal lord's nephew to a daughter of one of Fire country's noble houses. That was just a front, however. Nasu' true purpose, it turned out, was to mastermind the theft of the noble house's most treasured family heirloom: an antique silver watch.

The watch, incidentally, was part of the bride's dowry. As Tsunade explained it, the feudal lords of Thunder country wanted to incite a war through its theft. If the noble house declared the watch stolen or missing, Thunder country would brand it a contemptuous lie to cheat a member of their aristocracy, and war will break out. If the noble house accused Thunder country of stealing the heirloom, that would sever any good relations between the two nations, and war will break out.

It was a lose-lose situation, unless, of course, the watch was retrieved -- in secret, and with no hint of any shinobi involvement in the matter -- and restored to the noble house before the marriage ceremony could take place.

The mission called for utmost secrecy. They were to make sure that no one from Nasu's entourage would know that the watch was retrieved until it was back in the noble house's treasure vaults. More importantly, no one must know that two jounin-level shinobi from Konohagakure did the retrieving. Otherwise, Tsunade-baba had relayed further, Thunder country could quickly label their discovery as a willful act of aggression against them, and--

"War will break out," Naruto had finished for her. "I get the point."

Devising a strategy fulfilling these conditions proved to be no easy task, however. Nasu kept the watch on his person at all times (even while bathing), and Nasu, it turned out, was an extremely paranoid old geezer. Guards surrounded him wherever he went. Their job consisted mostly of sampling whatever food or drink Nasu took to make sure it contained no drug or poison, and keeping away all other persons within a five-meter radius. The mansion he was staying in was custom-built to his specifications into a virtual fortress, with all the latest varieties of traps and alarm systems wired and cross-wired atop each other.

The only time Nasu ever let his guard down, in fact, or so the research team had concluded, was only once a month: when he was visiting Shibahime's Teahouse, a girly bar in one of Fire Country's snobbier red-light districts.

Nasu may be one paranoid old geezer, but he was, on top of that, one perverted old geezer. And whenever he chose to be a perverted old geezer, that was, when he decided it was time take the evening off at the teahouse, he sent his guards away to wait outside the building. And the teahouse, other than the sprinklers and a fire alarm installed at each floor, did not have anything close to the security devices Nasu's mansion had to offer.

And so the plan was hatched. It was simple enough: Naruto, posing as Nasu's teahouse girlie for the night, would accompany the lecher to his usual suite (second floor, third door to the right, the researchers supplied). Sasuke would be waiting for them there. Naruto would distract Nasu, and Sasuke will sneak up from behind and strike the lecher unconscious. Just to be sure, Naruto will immediately cast a sleep-jutsu that would last a good twenty-four hours on Nasu. Then they'll get the watch. Than they'll get their asses out of there.

A simple enough plan, really. No way they could fail that. Just as long as Naruto could do his job and stay in character as Nasu's fair-haired, coy little playmate for the evening. Demure. Discreet. Then the mission will be a smashing success, Tsunade-baba would owe him two weeks' worth of ramen, and the fact that Sasuke would be there to share part of the victory -- or hog the spotlight, as the Uchiha usually did -- wouldn't bother him as much as when the Hokage announced their pairing up for this job. Sasuke and him. Childhood rivals. Best friends.

"No!"

"Did I hear it right? Are you dropping this mission?"

"No-- I mean yes-- I mean-- ARGH!" he had run a hand through his hair in frustration. "Why Sasuke?!" he'd finally spat out.

"But you work so great together as a team," Tsunade pressed on, obviously getting some sick satisfaction from watching him writhe after acceding to Naruto's pester-no-jutsu's.

She was being sarcastic, of course. Sure, Sasuke and Naruto teaming up for simple ass-kicking were practically undefeatable, but Sasuke and Naruto stuck together in a delicate, hush-hush mission, one that required detailed planning and coordination, guaranteed disaster. They always fought. They always bickered. They have never failed such missions (yet), but they've accomplished them with far more chakra expended, bodies whooped, and property destroyed than was necessary to do so.

"Think of it as your test, Naruto," the old hag had continued. "If you manage to succeed in this job without a hitch, that is, without blowing something up, there's a good chance that I'd consider you for ANBU promotion." She looked at him meaningfully.

It was an obvious bait, of course. But it was a bait that Naruto, being the naive and oblivious shinobi that he was, took.

Thus, the team-up. Thus, the sexy-technique. Thus Sasuke, probably waiting in Nasu's room right now, having snuck his way in. And thus Nasu, currently wiggling gnarly fingers at him as the old man held up a cup of sake in the other hand and offered a toast.

Naruto raised his own cup, batted his eyelashes at him flirtatiously, giggled, and drank down the contents in a single gulp. Doing so caused the kimono he wore to slide a fraction of an inch lower past his shoulders, making the perverted old man's mouth hang open in delight.

Naruto wondered whether he could make the pervert suffer a nosebleed or a coronary and pass out. That would save a lot of trouble. Naruto shook his head. No, it was best to stick to the original plan. It was his previous attempts to improvise during missions that caused Sasuke and him to fight, in the first place.

With a nod, Naruto smiled as Nasu handed him another sake cup, the lecher's piggy eyes never leaving his chest, and drank it all up. It was his seventh cup of sake for the evening. Nasu apparently wanted to make him as drunk as the old pervert himself was getting. Too bad that wouldn't work. Being the Kyuubi's vessel had its advantages, one of them a super-fast metabolism immune to the effects of alcohol. Naruto could drink the entire supply of sake in this teahouse and suffer no worse than an overbloated bladder.

Anyway, it took another fifteen minutes before the old pervert decided that he was done drinking, and signaled the teahouse attendants that he was retiring to his chambers. Naruto, of course, was to accompany him.

For the rest of the night.

Naruto fought another wave of nausea at the idea and stood up, regarding Nasu with what he hoped was an adoring, empty-headed, and certainly not-murderous look. And he wondered why he bothered, because the pervert's eyes weren't looking at his face, anyway.

"Walk ahead, my dear, I'll be close by," the old man entreated, patting Naruto's rump.

Naruto smiled through gritted teeth. "Sure, Nasu-sama," he cooed.

They exited the room, Naruto feeling Nasu's eyes gazing in rapt fascination at his behind. The blond shinobi walked faster. There! The old pervert's bedroom! Salvation! Sasuke!

Naruto did not enter the chamber so much as he was pushed into it. The shinobi fought to steady himself, careful not to 'bamph' back to his natural form this far into the mission, and looked back to the doorway he went through and into the tipsy, salivating face of Nasu.

"And now, let us begin the festivities," the lecher declared, snickering in what appeared to be the dirty old man's attempt to chuckle seductively, and shut the door behind him with an audible 'click'.

Naruto gulped, and took a tentative step backwards.

Nasu advanced.

Where the fuck are you, Sasuke?"

As if in answer to his mental outburst, a black blur suddenly dropped down from above. Naruto blinked, and in the split second it took to do so, Sasuke had done his part of the job, knocking Nasu to the floor without incident, bald head meeting carpet with a muffled 'thump'.

"Quick! The nemuri-no-jutsu!"

Naruto nodded, already performing the hand seals for the sleeping spell. When it was finished, the shinobi turned over the old man's unconscious, snoring form, searching through his clothes.

"Found it!" Naruto exclaimed moments later, the silver watch clutched in one hand triumphantly. "Mission accomplished!" Piece of cake, the blond shinobi thought smugly. Easy as pie. Looks like it's one more bet you're going to lose again, Tsunade-baba--

CLICK. Latch. Latch. Whrrrrr... Click.

All thoughts of pastry allegories and showing the Fifth Hokage what's what vanished as reinforced glass and steel appeared in a deafening series of clicks and latches, covering the entire room with locks and steel bars.

The time it took for the room to effect the transformation from a dirty old man's bedchamber into a dirty old man's bedchamber-slash-virtual-prison was a mere three seconds. It took about twice as long for the two shinobi to process the fact.

Naruto's next words aptly summarized their predicament.

"Oh, shit."

x x x