Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Protect Me From What I Want ❯ Weapon ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Protect Me from What I Want

Author: Sintari

Rating & Warnings (all chapters): NC-17; Uchihacest, dark, angst, yaoi, lemon, slight BDSM, blood

Pairings: ItaSasu, references to past OroSasu, any others t.b.a

Spoilers: Up to Issue #238 - the rest is the speculation of my warped imagination. I've also given Orochimaru the use of his arms.

Disclaimer: Is Itachi in every chapter and episode? No? Then I don't own Naruto.

Chapter 1 - Weapon

He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster.

And if you gaze for long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

- Friedrich Nietzsche

Six small torches provided the only illumination in the room. Even though Sasuke knew in his head that they were merely in the Sound Village's temple, six smoky points of flame wreathed the seal drawn on the floor and created the illusion of a vast space beyond the circles of firelight. For a brief moment he was transported back to genin missions. He remembered the howling of wolves and huddling with Naruto and Sakura and Kakashi-sensei around a campfire where the circle of the light was the only thing keeping the monsters at bay. Now, because of his decision, Sasuke knew that no matter how many lit torches surrounded him, he would always be in the heart of darkness. From his position, spread-eagle on the floor, eyes as black as sin watched the tendrils of smoke as they escaped up toward the ornamented ceiling. The smell of incense in the room was already intoxicating but an especially strong whiff of cinnamon caused him to involuntarily twitch against his bonds. The shackles at his wrists and ankles held tight, as he had known they would, allowing him only millimeters of leeway. It was less painful than other times he had been similarly shackled, though. Orochimaru had thoughtfully provided padding on the inside of the metal cuffs. A tendril of smoke drew his attention. Maybe it was the mind-numbing drugs that he had allowed Orochimaru to administer, but Sasuke fancied the smoke had taken the shape of the pointed nose and curved tail of a fox before spiraling toward the ceiling.

A door scraped open somewhere near his feet and Sasuke felt a fluttering in his chest as his heart quickened. With an unfamiliar pang of nervousness, he lifted his head a fraction to catch a glimpse of the new arrival.

"Sasuke-kun…" The sinuous voice of his Master floated to him from beyond the flames. Sasuke thought he heard a new element, a breathlessness that he had never noticed in Orochimaru's voice before. Pallid, sandaled feet, which normally never made a sound even on the driest leaves, scuffed the wood floor slightly. A dark figure materialized on the edge of the seal, one of the torches illuminating his partially open mouth and flushed face.

"Sasuke-kun…" Orochimaru said again. And this time, the hitch in his breath was audible. Sasuke was suddenly painfully aware of his nakedness, of the ridged tatami beneath his bare back, of his flaccid cock. He shivered and goosebumps blossomed all over his pale body.

Sasuke felt his own breath catch in his throat when Orochimaru stepped more fully into the firelight. A few more steps had his Master looking straight down at him, and then kneeling over him in a sick parody of a father leaning to give his son a good night kiss. There was nothing fatherly, though, in his appraising gaze and Sasuke's dulled eyes widened when Orochimaru's snake-like tongue flicked out and swiped over his top lip. Something appeared in the corner of Sasuke's eyes and then a long, sharp fingernail was scraping down his cheek. He tried to sink further into the tatami mat, shying away from the too-familiar touch. The Uchiha knew that his Master would not hurt him - why would he hurt his vessel? His most precious person? But he still flinched minutely when one of Orochimaru's cold hands palmed his exposed abdomen and then began a slow creep downward.

His Master's odd, slithering laughter effected Sasuke like a sandpaper rubbing up his spine, but to his relief Orochimaru removed the icy palm from his stomach and used it to fish a black vial from the pocket of his robe. Blissfully untouched for the moment, Sasuke exhaled in a rush.

"Now I just have to complete the seal, Sasuke-kun," Orochimaru crooned. He was still kneeling so that Sasuke had to turn his head a bit to look at the youthful face and spiky blonde hair of his Master's newest shell. And, from his position on the ground, regarding the deceptively youthful body in the dim torchlight, the resemblance to Naruto tugged at him like a hook in his bellybutton. Sasuke swallowed and closed his eyes, even going so far as to turn his head away from the sight, as if that could erase the painful memory of the confused look in his best friend's eyes when…

Cold!!

Black eyes that had been half-lidded flew open to find Orochimaru hovering over him, a calligraphy brush in his hand. He could feel but not see where the Sannin had drawn something over his heart with black ink.

"Hold still, Sasuke-kun," came the gleeful voice. This time the paintbrush drew a long straight line from his sternum, across his shoulder and then, Sasuke imagined, connected to a corresponding line on the floor. The next line grazed one nipple and Sasuke felt both hardening in response to the stimulation. Squeezing his eyes shut Sasuke tried to will himself to calmness, to stop his treacherous pulse from racing. Smiling to himself, Orochimaru then circled the uncolored nipple with a long fingernail, causing Sasuke to swallow and stiffen beneath him. Sharp blue eyes regarded him for a long moment, as if drinking him in, but then, after a small disappointed shake of his head, Orochimaru's long-fingered hands continued their work. Soon black lines decorated Sasuke's individual ribs, spiraled around his navel and came together at triangular points over his hip bones. To paint his arms, Orochimaru swung one leg over Sasuke's body, straddling him. The loose fabric of his Master's robe brushed Sasuke's cock with every short thick line that he drew and Sasuke soon found that that was embarrassingly hard, as well.

It was a testament to the gravity of the situation that Orochimaru did not take more notice of his development. For most of Sasuke's life, the bit that dangled between his legs was just another distraction to be ignored. As an avenger he had no need - and no right - to appease his body's baser needs. The thought had never even crossed his mind. Except sometimes deep in the night…

…crawling into Itachi's bed and laying his head on the flat plane of his brother's narrow chest. Sleeping with the sound of heart's blood pounding in his ears like the rhythmic thrusts of a lover…

But after that day, the only dreams Sasuke ever had involved thrusting a kunai into that hollow between Itachi's throat and sternum and slashing downward. Some nights, he'd never come more in his life.

Sasuke's face reddened. The mere memory of his dreams had his exposed cock rigid. Biting his lip, he looked away, attempting to avoid Orochimaru's gaze. He wasn't expecting the cool touch when the tip of the paintbrush glided over the underside of his aching shaft. Gasping, he felt something inside him loosen and it was all he could to refrain from pressing himself against Orochimaru's retreating hand. Even then, his hips rolled a time or two before he could still them.

"Sasuke-kun…" his Master breathed. Yes, it was true that the Uchiha avenger had no interest in satisfying the needs of the flesh, but that had never stopped Orochimaru's seemingly endless fascination with making Sasuke squirm.

He knew that Kabuto and the others called him Orochimaru's "pet" and that they gossiped about how Orochimaru's room adjoined his. They suspected foul things. Vile things. And they were absolutely correct. Orochimaru took his pleasure with him, it was true. But Sasuke took something from those long, long nights too. Uchiha Sasuke had learned the unexpected lesson that there were other weapons aside from jutsus.

His body was a weapon.

A weapon he would never hesitate to use once his power was joined with Orochimaru's and he was finally free to pursue his ultimate goal - Uchiha Itachi.

Uchiha Itachi, whom he had last met when his brother had tried to kill him in the hallway of a rundown inn. Uchiha Itachi, who had defended against his chidori without blinking one dead scarlet eye. Uchiha Itachi, who had had the nerve to say "I have absolutely no interest in you right now." Uchiha Itachi, whose cock had been rock hard against his younger brother's hipbone as he held Sasuke in a one-handed grip against that hallway wall.

Steeling himself, Sasuke stared hard at the ceiling as Orochimaru teasingly caressed the inside of his thighs with the tip of the paintbrush. He even managed to control his flinch when the last inky lines curved along the delicate arches of his feet.

"Its time to begin, Sasuke-kun," his master's voice was farther away now, back at the edge of the seal without Sasuke noticing his retreat. His lack of awareness may have been due to the drugs, or it might have been the fact that he had long ago perfected the ability to retreat into his own head while Orochimaru's hands were upon him.

"Close your eyes and hold very still…" came his Master's voice from somewhere beyond the smoke. "It will all be over in an instant."

Then, his Master began to chant. At first the sound was even and melodic; composed of lilting words that Sasuke did not understand and did not want to. There was no need. In a matter of moments, Sasuke would be joined with Orochimaru. Then vengeance would be his.

And it would be sweet.

Try as he might to focus on the invisible point where the torch smoke disappeared beyond the glow of firelight, Sasuke felt his eyelids growing heavy. The fires all around him were burning with abandon now, making him feel warm, disjointed, and sleepy. It did not help that the Sound-founder's chanting was insidious, infiltrating his mind before he knew it, like a squadron of extremely stealthy ANBU. Finally succumbing, Sasuke saw his dark eyelashes meet. When he opened them next it would all be over.

Then all sound abruptly ceased and every painted line on Sasuke's body began to burn like a thousand brands simultaneously pressed into his skin. He was sure all of Orochimaru's intricate artwork would be blazing a bright, searing red if only he could lift his eyelids to see.

His head thrown back, Sasuke strained against the bonds until he felt every corded muscle in his neck, arms and legs. The ghostly after effects of the chanting swirled in his ears, so loud that he did not hear the tell-tale scrape of the Sound Temple's door opening a second time.

The ringing in his ears combined with the drugs he had taken prohibited him from reading the newcomer's chakra, but what did it matter, really? The pain had died down to a dull ache, like a days old fever, and he could feel the imminent transformation, a distant rumble of thunder on the edge of his senses. They had been over this thousands of times. He would open his body, his vessel, for his Master and then…

And then calloused hands encircled his throat.

At once, the burning in his body ceased, the chanting in his head subsided. A wave of disappointment washed through him, as if he had just awakened from an impossibly realistic dream. Momentarily forgetting his bonds, he tried to reach for his assailant but only succeeded in wrenching his shoulder. Finally opening his eyes, he was greeted with a retreating swish of black silk.

"He's sealed," a gruff but unmistakably feminine voice declared. A new sensation, a throbbing in his neck, accompanied her words.

It was only with considerable effort that Sasuke was able to turn his head and follow the voice. What he saw had him straining against the bonds again, this time his body involuntarily trying to curl into a fetal position. It wasn't the drugs that made red clouds in a sea of black swim before his eyes. Suddenly, Sasuke couldn't have been more sober. He swallowed as two sets of eyes regarded him. The one nearest to him was a flame-haired woman. Further back, outside the dwindling barrier of smoke, stood what could only be termed a monster.

"Hoshigaki Kisame." Sasuke had a split second to wonder at the evenness of his voice as he looked up at the two Akatsuki from a position of utter helplessness, bound, naked and ostensibly, seconds from dying. To his surprise, the woman looked away, almost as if embarrassed. The shark's dull eyes regarded him for another long moment then he mumbled something to the woman and they disappeared from Sasuke's view.

Sasuke inhaled and exhaled raggedly once, before a wave of anger overcame him. Why hadn't they tried to kill him? And if Kisame was here, was Itachi? Alone again, all the panic that he had suppressed resurfaced and he looked around the room wildly, only to find that he was completely alone.

()()()()()

Shimoda was a fishing village where time was measured in seasons rather than years, and generations were defined by storms rather than decades. Formerly a port town, Shimoda had fallen into a state of perpetual disrepair when the Wave Country cut off contact with their closest trading partner. Signs of the decline showed everywhere, from the dilapidated buildings framing Shimoda's main street, to the threadbare linens in their rooms at the town's only inn.

Uchiha Itachi was above such petty concerns.

Idly running one fingertip around the rim of his sake cup, Itachi watched another family - the sum of their meager possessions packed on their backs - trudge down the main road out of town. They were cutting it close. The Sound delegation was set to arrive any moment now, and, once they arrived, the town would be sealed off until negotiations between the Akatsuki and Orochimaru and his Sound Nins were completed.

Beside him, Kisame refilled his own cup yet again. "Sunetra said the negotiations could take up to a month. What's your opinion, Itachi-san?"

The more senior Akatsuki member did not know, so he did not answer. He knew Kisame would come up with another way to coax him into conversation soon enough. Aside from the proprietor, they were the only two in the tea shop and Kisame was ever one to talk.

"I'm not even sure this Porcelain Mask exists, are you?" Kisame continued, after making sure that the red-faced proprietor was out of earshot. "It all sounds like an opium dream. I mean, if there's a way to resurrect someone perfectly, it seems like every rich guy's dead girlfriend would be up and running around." Kisame seemed to ponder this for a minute. "Though I guess Honori isn't your average rich bastard. But still."

"Only Orochimaru knows the proper jutsus to activate the Porcelain Mask," Itachi said, voice his usual monotone. "It is said that he created the artifact."

Kisame reflected into his sake cup. "I guess that makes sense. I hear that he is obsessed with immortality. What with all this body switching."

For the first time in the conversation Itachi's eye cut sideways and he regarded Kisame for a fraction of a second. "You hear correctly."

Sensing that he finally had Itachi's attention, Kisame leaned in a little. "You can't like that, eh? Orochimaru acquiring the Sharingan?"

Itachi was silent.

"Craziest thing I've ever seen," Kisame continued. "Your brother staked down to the floor. All that black paint on all that pretty white skin. Did I tell you he was naked? I'm inclined to believe that that was Orochimaru's own personal touch in the ritual. I don't really think…"

"Kisame." It was a simple word, something Itachi said all the time, and still in that familiar monotone, but the slight change in inflection was enough to leave him gaping at his partner.

"You talk too much."

()()()()()

Despite that he was entering into these negotiations under extreme duress, Orochimaru descended upon the town like a king attending his own coronation. Akatsuki had given him three days after their attack on his village. Three days to produce the Porcelain Mask. Three days to try all of his considerable number of jutsus in order to reverse Sunetra's seal on Sasuke. Their shadowy leader, and Honori, their patron, had been so certain of her considerable skills that they had left Sasuke in Orochimaru's hands, a useless vessel until the seal superceding the Sound leader's own seal was removed. And apparently their faith had not been misplaced, because Orochimaru was indeed here at their demand.

Sasuke walked alongside him, one of Orochimaru's long-fingered hands resting possessively on the nape of his neck.

Itachi and Kisame watched their arrival from the shadows of a tea shop. Behind them, the old proprietor twisted a dishtowel between his hands over and over again, probably dreading the impending seal that would have them all trapped in Shimoda until negotiations were completed. The higher ups had made it perfectly clear that nothing would be allowed to go wrong in obtaining and activating the Porcelain Mask.

A coffin holding the body of Honori's most favored mistress rested in the walk-in freezer of one of the town's larger restaurants. It amused Itachi to no end that they were going to all this trouble for, of all things, love.

When Orochimaru's delegation reached a predetermined point, the four present Akatsuki members and Honori, their client, stepped out to greet them. As agreed upon, Sunetra, and Orochimaru's lackey, Kabuto, would use an old treaty jutsu and jointly seal the town, leaving themselves on the outside with instructions to break the seal when signaled. The rest of them would apparently be stuck in Shimoda until Honori's mistress proved she was once again fully functioning. What that entailed, Itachi neither needed nor wanted to know.

Itachi could feel hard eyes boring into him as soon as he left the shadow of the tea house, but he paid Sasuke no mind. Among the many mundane rules of the negotiations, was one that might interest Sasuke greatly. No killing under penalty of death. This applied to all of them, no matter if you were one of the items on the table - like Sasuke - or if you were merely a hired hand doing his job. Still, Itachi hadn't cultivated ten years worth of hatred in his younger brother for nothing. He expected the odd assassination attempt here and there. In fact, he looked forward to it. Meanwhile, he would stand here in the hot sun beside Kisame and ignore the black eyes glaring at him from about ten feet in front of him and thirty degrees to the left.

He doesn't think about how he could have gotten out of this tedious detail but chose not to. Because Uchiha Itachi does not doubt or second guess himself. Even when he probably should.

Out of the corner of his eye, ten feet in front of him and thirty degrees to the left, there is movement. Honori is talking to Orochimaru. They have turned to the side and the Sound-leader's hand is still on Sasuke's neck. His little brother - because that's the way he still thinks of him and always will - is standing in profile to him now. Out of the corner of eyes that see so much, Itachi watches the pallid hand of Orochimaru's newest body skitter down Sasuke's back then easily slip beneath the hem of the boy's black shirt. Long fingers trace small circles on bare skin.

A long moment passes before, beneath his cloak, Itachi's own fingers slowly uncurl.

Sasuke has never stopped staring; he's half looking over his shoulder now. Identical sets of eyes, Uchiha black, meet for the first time in over two thousand days.

Does Sasuke finally have enough hatred? Itachi supposes he will find out soon enough.

Their staring contest is broken when they begin to walk toward the inn, Orochimaru exerting a firm pressure on Sasuke's neck. Itachi surmises that - the way the Sound leader is leading him around - his brother might as well be wearing a collar. Has Sasuke gone through all of this humiliation just to gain the power to kill him? Behind his cloak, the older Uchiha allows a small smile.