Chapter 1
“So it’s settled then,” Hiruzen says, smiling ear to ear. Can’t fault him for once. “We’ll depart tomorrow morning. Be ready, Itachi.”
In the doorway, a proper little Itachi bows. His cheeks are flushed and the winter sun gives his choppy fringe an orange glow. How is everything that boy does impeccable, except for the boy himself? One doesn’t have to be vain to be groomed.
Fugaku appears beside Itachi and gives us his trademark scowl. “I’m honoured you’d choose my Itachi as a security escort on this business trip.”
Itachi must think we didn’t catch him raising an eyebrow at his father’s tone.
Halfway up a lone mountain, the private onsen retreat has a magnificent view of the surrounding landscape of forests, ravines, and rivers. Snow has fallen so thick, only some trees remain visible in the vicinity. No signs of civilization for miles and miles. Ever the slob, Hiruzen leaves his luggage right behind the door of the cabin.
“I did offer to carry that for you, Lord Third,” Itachi says and hangs his messenger bag on the coat rack, then takes it back. Professionalism entails the retention of privacy. He’s not a guest, after all, he’s a bodyguard. Who’s going to tell him?
“Don’t bother,” Hiruzen says. “You’re still young. Any luck, you’ll still be needing that back of yours for decades. Don’t ruin it for an old fart like me.”
Hiruzen’s smile is Itachi’s cue to return the gesture. He’s still practising to respond adequately to social cues ever since he overheard classmates talking about his “resting bitch face” perpetually looking down on them.
“Please don’t worry about me,” Itachi says, gaze downcast. “I’ll get set up in my… where do I sleep, anyway?”
“Over here.” I gesture at Itachi to join me at the far end of the cosy living room. Behind the sliding screen, there are three futons rolled up to face a veranda behind more sliders. “This is the common bedroom. Next to it, you have the bathroom where you wash yourself before entering the hot spring.”
“I… which…”
“Take the middle one,” I say and nod at the futon. “If either of us gets attacked, you’ll be equally close to both.”
He doesn’t get the joke, not that he could have expected one from me. Instead, Itachi surveys the room. We’ll be up here for a month. A month of sleeping between two old men he probably assumes snore and fart. His large ears rise and fall with a suppressed yawn.
“Your legs are still short,” I say. “The strain of our journey must be hitting you. Lie down while we explore the place, will you.”
Itachi bows and as soon as I left the room, I hear him slipping out of his Anbu uniform. Warmth fills the living room; Hiruzen must have lit the fireplace. Itachi peeks through the door and when he sees the fire, slips out of his winter clothes. Clad in only flappy running shorts, he crawls under the duvet and wraps himself in the scent of freshly washed linen. I make myself comfortable on the sofa to let the heat seep into my old bones. The crackling fire and Hiruzen’s rambling are all I hear; the place is as silent as winter itself.
When I get up to check on Itachi, he’s drifted off, his breath blowing a lock of hair off his nose.
“Oh, my!”
Itachi spins around to look at me. “Lord Danzo! Please don’t sneak up on me like this. Did you need something?”
I can’t help but chuckle at his huge eyes, but I’m not withdrawing my hand from his bare shoulder. “Amazing instincts. And to think you were sleeping so soundly.”
As wakefulness takes over, Itachi looks down his side to find my arm disappearing under his blanket.
“Uh…”
“It’s a hand, not a blade, Itachi,” I say and slide my other hand up his neck. “We’ve come here to unwind, and nobody ever said that didn’t include you. Lie back down, boy, nobody is going to eat you with us around.”
If only to stop this situation from getting any more embarrassing, Itachi does as told, and I sit up to get a better look at him.
“You’re a pretty little thing, you know. You have no reason to be awkward around people who desire you.”
“Who’s that?”
“Goodness, speaking of awkward!”
“Who’s awkward? You’re not gossiping about me behind my back, are you, Danzo?”
I turn to the doorway. “Yes, Hiruzen, that’s exactly what I was doing.”
Brow furrowed, Hiruzen studies us, then sighs. “Anyway, who’s joining me on a hunt? The pantry is so unexciting.”
After much peer pressure thinly veiled in encouragement, Itachi had finally struck that stag down with a single arrow to the heart. On a porch overlooking the glorious mountain range dyed by orange, pink, and purple, the creature is spinning over a fire. Hiruzen cuts himself a piece and offers another to Itachi who holds his hand up.
“I’ve been wondering about this before, Itachi, do you not eat meat at all?”
“Not unless I have to,” Itachi says between nibbles on a potato. “But please don’t hold back on my account. It’s a personal choice.”
“Never be afraid to say no,” Hiruzen says. “You may be here on a mission, but not everything is orders, boy.”
Itachi blushes. I suppose the moment he was requested to join this trip, his head had entered work mode. “Thank you, Lord Third.”
Hiruzen laughs. “You know what? Here’s an order for you. Call me Master Sarutobi. I’m nobody’s Lord up here.”
A huff escapes me. “Careful now, once you offer these kids a finger, they bite off the whole hand. Next thing you know, he’ll be calling you Hiruzen, Hiruzen.”
More laughter answers me while Itachi discreetly downs his vegetables.
“Itachi, get in, that is an order!”
Itachi sighs. If Hiruzen is ordering people to join him in the hot spring, he’s definitely drunk. Or high on what he blends into his tobacco, though we agreed there’d be no drugs in front of a child of questionable loyalties.
“Yes, Master Sarutobi.” Bracing for an onslaught of glacial air, Itachi removes his clothes to cleanse himself at the wash place instead of going back inside to use the bathroom.
Stark naked, the boy joins us, ensuring a respectful distance. The heat of the water isn’t the only thing turning his skin lobster red. I’m doing it on purpose, but I don’t think Hiruzen has any control over his face as his gaze lingers on Itachi. Pronounced collar bones and shoulders, defined biceps and abs, sharp wrists and hip bones, and the legs of a dancer, all on a petite body with a girl’s face – a dichotomy to marvel at for hours if one were whimsically inclined.
Sharp as ever even drunk, Hiruzen catches the slightest twitch of my hand and pulls Itachi through the water and into his lap before I can.
“You thought I didn’t see it written all over you,” Hiruzen says and throws me a knowing smirk. “Itachi, don’t let this man fool you: I’m still your main client. So, protect me from that fiend and any fiends lurking in the shadows of these mountains.”
“I… I don’t think anyone…”
Flustered, Itachi tries to squirm off Hiruzen’s crotch as discreetly as possible so as to not make it irredeemably embarrassing for his commander in chief. I bet Hiruzen is hard as a rock down there. I’ve willed down the beginnings of my own erection the moment I felt the blood pulsing. Itachi’s shoulders are quivering and he rubs his upper arms; he’s submerged from the waist down. Hiruzen wraps his own arms around the boy and gently, but firmly pushes him down along his body to get him underwater, nice and warm and snug against his cock. Itachi is frozen stiff, no idea how to get out of this in a casual manner. I watch heat and embarrassment colour Itachi’s head in real time, and Hiruzen hauls the fainting boy out to carry him inside.