Chapter 4
“Listen, we didn’t agree to do business with you just because everyone knows your name,” the man says, and every line of him is indiscriminate bluff. Naruto let’s him continue to speak anyways, because he’s honestly a little curious – what brought this man and his underlings all the way to their warehouse, where everything is shadows laced in gold, razor shavings sharp enough to cut.
He’s also curious about the burn mark on the man’s cheek, and how it’s shaped so familiarly, a trademark of sorts, of a rival organization. He grins, razorblade sharp, and thinks of thunder, and of lightning.
“We expect to get paid more than our competitors, the same garbage you’ve apparently employed.”
“That’s true,” Naruto nods, pensive. “I have employed a large amount of garbage. It’s so easy to find, though, and so easy to get rid of. You have to appreciate the easy power of it, at least.”
The man’s eye twitches, and Naruto knows the only reason he doesn’t say something acerbic and cutting is because Naruto could kill him single-handedly. He almost wants to acknowledge it, out loud, just to see the man’s reaction. It would be too dangerous for him to laugh, and rude of him to ignore the obvious, but Naruto almost wants to watch his eyes leap to the space where Naruto’s right arm had once been.
Almost.
But this is business and he doesn’t have the time for games right now, especially petty ones for his own amusement. He’ll have time for that later.
“We want our cut,” the man says through gritted teeth, and the men and women behind him encroach closer, a protective shell closing in. Naruto stands alone in front of them, one-armed and smiling, and it’s the man with the burn mark on his cheek that flinches at the movement.
“And we want it today.”
“Yeah?” Naruto asks, tone pitched in wonder. He strokes his chin, glances up idly into the overhead rafters, streamed through with sunlight. He replies, “Wanna know what I want?”
And he waits, because he’s learned a little something about manipulation over the years. It’s easy to be a good student when the teacher holds your heart.
He’s rewarded when the man forces an answer out, through gritted teeth, a single pointed, what?
“I want to know why I found paperwork with your signature on it, in the very same cavern i was taken to when I was beaten and abducted,” Naruto says, with an easy smile. “I want to know quite a bit about that, actually, ya know?”
This time, the man does step back, an obvious and cowardly but expected retreat. Naruto’s eyes, cat-like pinpricks, leap to the movement and hold him down in place, a bug pinned to a board, open for inspection and desecration.
“I,” the man stalls, and he doesn’t quite turn to look at his second-in-command but the woman moves forward regardless, stands at his side even while she quakes. She doesn’t meet Naruto’s eyes, she’s not a high enough rank to deserve it, and she knows it.
“There’s no proof,” she starts, voice steadier than Naruto expected. He tilts his head at her, and the image of predator and prey resurfaces almost palpably. “We would never–”
“No proof?” He reflects “I threaten you with treason against our family and your first thought is to be defensive, and deny?”
Naruto turns his gaze back to the man with the burn and he laughs, he laughs. “This isn’t fair, man!” Naruto says, and he groans, utterly put-upon. “This isn’t even a challenge for me.”
“We’re your people,” the man hurries to say, “we’re branded with your names.”
“A mark is just a mark,” Naruto says, and he brings up his nails and scratches down the skin of his cheek, five red trails beading over the scars on his face. He watches them watch him, for only a moment, and then he leaps forward so suddenly no one has a chance to react, not even to gasp.
He straightens, so close to the man he can smell the sweat of him, and brings the sharpened point of his nail to press so very delicately to his cheek, right over the burn. Low as a whisper, he sings, “And you have a history of complications, where marks are concerned!”
The man doesn’t move an inch, barely even to breathe. A spark of something like confidence alights in his eyes, and he says, “If you hurt me, you’re going to lose business. You’re going to lose money and land and province.”
Naruto pulls back in affront, expression openly confused.
“Hurt you?” he says, blinking slowly. He backs up until his back is against a crate, taller than he is, and then he leaps easily upon it. He sits there for what feels like ages and thinks it over, purposely makes them wait in the tensed silence around them, palpable and heavy, like smoke.
“Oh,” Naruto says at last, with realization. His eyebrows jump in genuine surprise, and he says, “Oh, no, you have it wrong, man!”
And this makes the man falter, an apparent shift in his just-moments-before confident demeanor, a cascade of tension threading through his calm, from nape to heel. He doesn’t take a step back, not even when Naruto lifts himself up and slides off of the five foot crate he’d leap onto. Naruto would have given him points for courage, had he not seen the trembling of his hands.
The crate creaks beneath the removal of his weight – solid and muscled and threatening – a predator unfolding from his perch, and he bounces forward until he’s only a breath away, one arm falling heavily around the man’s shoulders. It’s not the comfort it’s masked behind, and the man inhales under the weight of Naruto’s shoulder.
Naruto drags his head closer, until his lips are at the man’s ear, and his voice moves through, as smooth and heated as absinthe.
“I don’t hurt people,” he whispers conspiratorially, laughing a little. “I kill them.”
Naruto can see it all happening like a movie behind his eyes: the man pushing out of his grip the next moment, until there’s enough room between them for him to feel only monumentally threatened, rather than already standing in his grave. Naruto laughing, clutching at his stomach, lifting a finger to wipe away at amused tears.
It’s what could have happened, had he not held the man in place with sheer strength, in his one arm, his one arm.
“Shh,” he chides, head still touching the man’s temple. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“But–”
Naruto uses the hand slung around the man’s neck to lift his chin, until his eyes refocus ahead of him and he can see the way she slides away from the shadows, the first sign of her presence the cavernous gleam of her pale eyes.
The man wheezes as though punched, and Naruto realizes again that this man actually has a pretty high standing in their organization, considering. He is the only one of his legion that recognizes her, and what her presence means. He gasps, “No,” and the people behind him draw their weapons out of confusion, out of concern, out of fear.
Naruto turns over his shoulder with a toothy grin and says, “uh, uh, uh,” and they desist immediately, startled and fearful. He turns back and rests his head against the man’s, watching fondly as Hinata moves into view, the daughter of darkness bathed in light.
“Hello, Ken-san,” she greets, and her smile promises the spill of secrets and confessions, and a trail of lives scattered like leaves in Fall – and how fitting, Naruto thinks, considering that’s her specialty.
The fall of men.