Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Sacrifice ❯ Chapter 6 ( Chapter 6 )

SUMMARY: Duty, honour and love clash with a thirst for vengeance when a decade old lie is finally revealed. How far would YOU go for love? NaruIta, one-sided SasuNaru, YAOI!

Naruto Fanfiction

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CHAPTER SUMMARY: which Itachi enjoys a home-cooked meal.

~Sacrifice~
By: Sandlewood996

Chapter 6

It was around midnight when he finally stopped for a much needed break. Not daring to take the chance of a fire being spotted by any possible pursuers, he crouched in the lee of a sheltering out-cropping of rock. Reaching into one of his pouches with his right hand, he withdrew another container of the odorless powder infused with a clotting agent and a small amount of healing chakra. His arm had started bleeding again sometime after sunset, but he'd been unwilling to risk stopping at that time, feeling a pressing need to put more distance between himself and the site of his battle with Kisame. Now, he was almost regretting his decision as he felt a wash of chilling dizziness flow over him. He'd lost a lot of blood, he knew, but without access to a competent medic he could only rely on the few items he carried in his emergency medical kit for the time being. Carefully unwrapping the blood-soaked bandages covering the wound on his arm, he gently prodded the injury and silently cursed his bad luck. At the rate he was going, infection was about to become his next biggest concern.

Once he'd seen to his arm, he dug out a small, sealed bag of rations. He carefully scanned the area dimly illuminated by the waning moon while chewing the tasteless energy bar mechanically, choosing not to dwell on either the lingering throbbing pain encompassing his left side or the bland texture sticking to the roof of his mouth. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the yipping call of a coyote. Taking slow, careful sips of water from his half-empty canteen, he studied the placement of the stars glittering against the velvety backdrop of the night sky. His back-tracking and doubling over his own trail had wasted several hours, but had been a necessary precaution. Now, however, he felt it was time to return to the previous course he'd set with his former Akatsuki partner.

It had been three days since he'd received the latest update of information on Akatsuki's last remaining jinchuuriki target, Uzumaki Naruto. Eight of the nine bijuu's in existence were already in their possession and Leader, he had known, was becoming impatient with the delay in the capture of the last remaining tailed-demon, the Kyuubi. He should have known that it would be impossible to delay any further, but he'd been far too optimistic for his own good. It would have been nice, though, if he'd been given a little more warning that he'd finally come under suspicion. It really was unfortunate that he hadn't been able to gather more information from Zetsu before he'd been forced to kill Kisame. Now, however, he had to rely on out-dated and possibly unreliable information. It was now a race against time to reach Naruto first before Akatsuki found either of them.

The last he'd been told, the Kyuubi vessel had been sent as an envoy to a small town near the border of Earth Country. According to Zetsu's sources, Naruto had in his possession a certain scroll containing vital information detailing a possible alliance between Konoha and three unnamed border towns, a merger that would place tremendous economic strain on Iwa, Earth Country's powerful shinobi village. He found it mildly disturbing that Tsunade-hime, the Godaime Hokage of Konoha, had entrusted such a critical mission to Uzumaki Naruto. He didn't believe the brash younger shinobi was suited at all to the task set out for him. Naruto wasn't called Konoha's Loudest and Most Unpredictable Ninja for nothing, after all. Diplomacy was anything but his forte. From what he remembered of the younger man, he was quite tactless, possessing a rather alarming tendency to blurt out whatever happened to be on his mind regardless of the possible consequences. "What was Hokage-sama thinking?" He muttered under his breath as he removed all traces of his presence and stood carefully, stretching out the uncomfortable kinks in his stiff and sore body.

He had two days to find a town with a suitable inn and, hopefully, a competent medic before the effects of the Soldier Pill wore off. He couldn't risk taking another lest he cause irreparable damage to his body. He felt a moment of regret for resorting to using exploding clones to finish off his former partner. The blast had destroyed any chance of recovering the extra provisions the other man had been carrying. He would have to restock his own supplies when he reached the nearest town, most importantly replace his torn and blood-stained clothing as he knew from experience his current appearance would draw far too much unwanted attention to himself. He couldn't afford to leave an obvious trail for the other members of Akatsuki to follow.

The sky was just beginning to become streaked with pale, pre-dawn light when he halted again. Before him, sitting on the edge of a brown and withered field of stunted crops, was a small weather-beaten rough-hewn shack. A thin trickle of smoke rose from a thin, crooked chimney set atop a roof in bad need of reshingling. A saggy porch jutted out towards him from the front of the house, the grey boards cracked and in serious need of repair. No windows were visible on the side of the humble home facing him, but a door filled with wide cracks drew his immediate attention. To the side of the house a small chicken coop rested, thick patches of scraggly weeds growing in tufts along the perimeter of the thin wire enclosure. Movement near the house drew his attention as a thin dog drew its gangly body from beneath the uneven planks of the grey steps leading to the single door. The animal eyed him warily as he slowly approached, dull fur ruffling in the slight breeze.

Pausing, he reached up and removed his scored hitai-ate, tucking it within one of his equipment pouches safely out of sight. It wouldn't do to draw attention to the fact that he was a missing-nin with past ties to Konoha. This close to the border of Earth Country anyone was subject to suspicion, even more so if there were signs of affiliation with one of their greatest enemies. It wouldn't matter that he'd left his village and severed all ties to his former home; these people wouldn't look passed the Konoha hitai-ate.

The dog barked, keeping a careful distance separating them and he could feel watchful, wary eyes following his slow and steady approach. The dog whined, tail tucked between its legs as it slinked in retreat, intimidated by the perceived threat he offered as he stared at it with narrowed crimson and black eyes. Returning his gaze to the crude entrance in much need of repairs and his hidden observer, he waited patiently as the house's occupant slowly opened the door to a wider crack. "Who are you and what do you want?" A gruff voice demanded from the shadowed interior of the dwelling.

"A traveler." He answered quietly with calm deliberation, soft voice carrying over the short distance surprisingly well. "The nearest town." He continued without pause. "Where is it?"

The door creaked as it was pushed open completely, revealing the grizzled countenance of a stooped form with the appearance of a man well passed his prime. "That'd be Gorge." The old man raised his hand, pointing a gnarled finger to the North-West. "Half day's hard travel if you walk fast. Two and a half if you dawdle." He nodded by way of thanks and turned to leave only to be stopped by the old man's voice addressing him again. "Got grilled cakes and eggs made. You're welcome to some, if you're so inclined." He glanced back over his shoulder, black tomoe spinning as he stared at the old farmer assessing his weathered and wrinkled features intently with the Sharingan, searching for signs of ulterior motives behind the offer. "Heh. Even a young man in top form needs sustenance." Watery eyes settled on his bandaged arm hanging limply at his left side before returning his regard with a raised, bushy eyebrow. "You look about half-dead on your feet, Traveler. A couple hours to eat and rest won't make no difference." A wide grin revealed uneven, yellowed teeth, a few gaps showing where some had already fallen out. "Gorge ain't goin' nowhere."

He carefully weighed his options as he returned the old man's steady, unwavering stare suspiciously, the light breeze ruffling through his dark hair. He hadn't stayed alive as long as he had by trusting readily. He never knew when a friendly stranger was in reality an assassin sent to eliminate him and the threat he posed, a bounty hunter hungry for the price on his head, or a fool looking to make a name for himself by attempting to take down Konoha's notorious Uchiha Butcher, the man responsible for massacring his entire clan save for one small boy in the span of one night. The man before him didn't have the aura of greed a bounty hunter usually possessed. Nor did he appear to be a glory seeking fool. Though appearances could be deceiving, the old man didn't have the eyes of a coldly efficient killer, either.

Coming to a decision, he slowly turned and inclined his head towards the old man in respectful acknowledgment. "Thank you for the generosity." He crossed the dry, dusty yard with swift, graceful steps, his fluid movements giving no indication of the fatigue weighing heavily on his body. Though he was eager to reach the town and begin his search for additional information in regards to Naruto's current location and recent activities, it could only serve to be beneficial to learn more about the inhabitants of Gorge first. It was also an added incentive to his decision that he'd be able to put a warm meal in his stomach for the first time in far longer than he cared to dwell on before continuing on his way. Dried trail rations, though designed for high proteins and carbohydrates for maximum efficiency in delivering necessary energy and nutrition, weren't really all that satisfying. In any case, however reluctant he may be to admit it...even to himself...he was tired of forcing the bland bars with the texture of pasty sawdust down his throat and it would be a pleasant change to partake of real food.

"The name's Goro, by the way." The old man led the way into the dimly lit interior of his home, the scent of fried eggs and corn bread heavy in the air. Limping over to the black wood stove nestled against the back wall on the other side of the one-room shack, he gestured to the scarred wooden table one-handed as he reached for the plates on a cluttered shelf above him. "Don't by shy. Take a seat. No formal ceremonies here, boy."

He twitched slightly at the way Goro addressed him but moved to comply all the same. It had been many years since anyone called him a 'boy' and he wasn't certain if he should feel insulted or not. He decided that it wasn't worth the effort to take umbrage, considering how much older the other man probably was. Allowances and concessions could be made for the elderly, after all. "Do you live alone, Goro-san?" He inquired politely while surreptitiously wiping a thick layer of dust off the seat of the chair he'd been directed to.

"Eh?" Bushy eyebrows lowered as the farmer squinted at him. "Oh, yeah. Alone. The wife kicked off close to fifteen years back and that ungrateful cur of a son ran off six years before." He nodded slowly, having already guessed at least part of it just by observing the state of the inside of the house. The old man set a plate before him and sat in the only other chair. "Didn't catch your name, boy." He mumbled gruffly around a mouthful of eggs.

He debated the wisdom of revealing personal information to the old man and shrugged mentally. If he didn't mention his family name there shouldn't be too much danger. "Itachi." He murmured as he took a cautious bite of the grilled corn bread. Flavour burst within his mouth bringing tastebuds alive with excitement. He had to force himself to eat slowly and not wolf it down as he was sorely tempted to do. Proper table manners instilled in him as a child won over his eagerness to taste more of the first real meal he'd been able to enjoy in far too long due, in large part, to the constant necessity of hard travel. Though he was much more inclined towards the more traditional foods of his country of origin, his tastebuds were telling him he'd managed the impossible and finally entered Nirvana.

"Well, Itachi..." The old man squinted at him across the table. "Looks like you found yourself a bit of trouble." Goro gestured towards his left arm with his fork before resuming eating.

The fork paused half way from his plate to his mouth before continueing its journey. He chewed slowly, Sharingan staring intently at the old man seated across from him. Of course, he had known his obvious wounds would draw attention to himself, but he had yet to formulate a plausible excuse to explain the state he was in. Carefully setting the fork beside his plate he watched the other man as he watched him in turn. "The roads can be dangerous for an unwary traveler, Goro-san." He murmured cautiously.

The old man snorted and dropped his own fork to clatter against his plate as he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "No doubt even more so for a lone ninja so far from home, hmm?"

His senses that had been warning him of the possibility of danger from the moment Goro made reference to his injuries awakened to full alert. His instinct told him to take immediate action and his sense of self-preservation nearly won. The old man would probably never know how close he'd come to dying in those first few moments. "I am certain you are correct, Goro-san." He watched the other man intently as he answered, carefully choosing his next words. "If such an individual existed, it would be most perilous for him to stray so far without careful consideration for the consequences."

The old man grinned widely and reached for the pot of coffee resting near his plate. "Too true, too true." Holding the pot up, he quirked an eyebrow in silent question before pouring two steaming mugs of the strongly brewed beverage when he received a slight nod in reply. "Could almost think he was looking for something, eh?" Before he could form a suitable response, Goro continued. "Not that such things interest an old timer like me." A somewhat wheezy laugh accompanied the mirthful twinkle in the old man's watery eyes. "I'm too old to worry about intrigues and the ol' ticker can't take too much excitement these days." The older man held out a plate towards him. "Toast?"

He murmured a thanks as he took a slice of the crisp, slightly blackened bread and slowly resumed eating. The message had been clear; though Goro suspected there was more to his claim of being a simple, lone traveler, he wasn't about to pursue it. It was a relief, he decided. He really didn't want to have to kill the old man, not after his kind, if somewhat gruff, hospitality. "What can you tell me of Gorge, Goro-san?"

"Gorge, huh?" Goro leaned back in his chair with his gnarled hands folded over his stomach, a thoughtful frown tugging his bushy eyebrows down over his eyes. "Well...it's..." There was a fairly long pause as the old man chewed his lip pensively. Finally, he nodded and leaned forward again. "It's tidy."

One dark eyebrow quirked up in bewildered inquiry. "Tidy?" He repeated slowly, uncertain if there was hidden meaning behind the oddly brief description of the near-by town.

"Yeah. Bunch o' uptight bastards with poles shoved so far up their collective asses they stick out their noses." A second dark eyebrow rose to join the first as the old man snorted with a look of disgust pulling his lips back into a contemptuous sneer. "Prancin' 'round with their shiny shoes and pretty little hats..." He cupped his hands over his head in a crude depiction of the mentioned head coverings. "Noses stuck so blasted high in the air they'd drown if it rained." Something that sounded suspiciously like a cross between a snort and a growl followed the heated description of the residents of Gorge.

"I...see..." He murmured carefully as he set his empty cup aside. "Is there a medic?" He asked somewhat hesitantly. The town was obviously as sore spot for his host. However, as reluctant as he was to provoke another diatribe, he was also in dire need of information. He needed to find someone capable of seeing to his injuries and hopefully repairing the damage Kisame had done to his arm. He wouldn't get far, he knew, in his current state and he definitely had no desire to risk worsening his condition unnecessarily by attempting to continue his search without first finding medical aid.

"Medic?" The old man squinted at him and slowly shook his head. "Nope. 'Fraid not." Goro's gaze settled on his wounded arm with an assessing scowl. "But..." Another lengthy pause settled between them as the grizzled aging farmer pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I could probably help you out with that."

A/N: for the delay in updating...been having issues in R/L. **shrugs**

RaiMidori: **blushies** Thank you for the kind words and encouragement. I hope that the future chapters don't disappoint. =^_^=