Naruto 1. The Beginning of the End

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto or any of the characters, so no suing and blah blah. And of course, Kishimoto owns all the characters of Naruto and everything else.

Allo, am not dead but my writing is at an all time low. So low I'm not sure I even have a muse anymore. I do so hope this is an okay looking fic because well... not to repeat myself... but I suck at the moment.

So sit back and try to enjoy.

**Author's note:** This was supposed to be a one off thing but because I just keep repeatedly smacking myself into the writer's block wall I'm going to hack this thing into tiny bits and put them up so you guys at least get to see some of it while I try to wrangle something that looks like a story together.

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**The Beginning of the End**

Yanking self-consciously at the very very skimpy outfit he had on, he glared death at Sai. Just because the other teen was used to dressing in nothing but skin-tight clothes didn't mean _he_ was anywhere near comfortable in his own skin. And really, whoever egged him on in that bet was going to die a painful death. Not only had he lost spectacularly, he had to pay up and dress in this get up. He scowled down at the poured on leather and wondered how they managed to talk him _into_ this.

When they – they being Sai and a burbling Sakura dragged him bodily into the shop – had piled him with a heap of clothes and shoved him into a changing room, he had wanted to cry. Amidst the sequined things that he could not possibly describe were a pair of black pants that he had thought were safe enough. That had been a bad bad assumption on his part. He had nearly castrated himself squeezing into the bloody pants and looked on in horror when he stared at himself in the full length mirror hanging off one of the walls. Not only did it leave little to the imagination, the side seams – where threads were supposed to be holding the piece of garment together – were replaced with a delicate teasing strip of leather lacing covering a long _long _strip of his tanned flesh. The criss-cross pattern marched its way from hem to waistband, and there wasn't enough waistband for his liking. His hip bones were showing and the black swirling pattern of his tattoo stood out prominently on his taut belly. He wouldn't be surprised if his butt crack was showing either.

He had refused to step out of the booth with nothing but the pants on, he might as well be parading around in the nude, but was coaxed out by the promise of ramen – damn him for being so weak – and came face to face with his smirking 'ex'-friends and the employees of the store. There were catcalls and whistling and he had wanted to turn around and hide. At one point he was ready to just run, dignity be damned, when Sai and Sakura were staring blatantly at his crotch. He hadn't noticed because he was still trying to get over when one of the shop attendants had kissed him teasingly on the cheek while buckling a slave collar around his neck. A husky 'call me' was whispered into his ear and a slip of paper was slipped into non-existent back pockets. But when he had noticed, he at least got some enjoyment of seeing Sakura turn bright pink and rushing to a random rack while Sai coughed and turned to look at anyone but him. It wasn't his fault underwear didn't fit in this thing!

So while the rest of them demanded he purchase the pants on pain of death he had quickly locked himself back into the changing room and pealed the said leather contraption off. He wasn't buying it even if they were going to stuff socks down his pants. But because he had such _wonderful _friends both Sai and Sakura chipped into paying for it, the clerks were even nice enough to give them a twenty-five percent off, and a form-fitting blue shirt was added to the bundle – as if he _hadn't_ had enough form-fitting things for the night. The collar he got to keep, not that he wanted to but the girl insisted he keep it, a bottle of 'blood cherry' nail polish was thrown in and he was dragged away once more.

Much to his relief the tattoo parlour had whizzed by and he was glad he wasn't strapped down to a chair and had his nipples, belly button and other places he didn't even want to think about pierced. At the local pharmacy a large bottle of spray on silver glitter, hair studs and stuff that Sakura needed were bought and they high-tailed back to Sai's place.

He had once more been forced into the deathtrap they call pants and the shirt. The collar was slapped back on, a liberal amount of glitter was sprayed onto his spikes/face, and a pair of killer boots were shoved onto his feet. Thinking that that would be that, he had risked a glance into the mirror and wasn't too horrified by his appearance, but when an eyeliner-armed Sakura stalked towards him he had screamed bloody murder and made a run for it. And he would've made it out too if not for the fact that Sai had tackled him onto the bed and held him down while his so called 'best friend' sat on his stomach and did unquestionable things to his face.

"Sakura," he'd murmured nervously as he went cross-eyed staring at the pointy end of the eyeliner. Never before had a pencil seemed so threatening. "As much as this turns me on and fulfills every fantasy I've ever had of you, can you please stop trying to poke my eyeball out?"

"As much as I love you, you and I both know you're only interested in cocks."

There was a delicate roll of green eyes and he found himself once more faced with the pointy end of the pencil. And while he was trying to hold very still so that his left eyeball wouldn't be gouged out of its socket, he felt soft, cool, numbing brushes against his fingers. He tried to pucker his brows but when Sakura scowled deeply at him, he froze.

"Sai?" he asked nervously, wondering whether he truly wanted to know or not. "What the fuck are you doing to my hand?"

"Stop moving or I'll really poke an eye out!"

"S-sorry!" A pause as he held his breath while the rough edge of the pencil glided by his right eyelid. "Sai?"

"I'm painting your nails."

And with that, he had been turned from an ordinary not-so-straight guy to a goth-punk not-so-straight guy. The transformation was amazing and if he knew who his mother had been he was sure she would be shocked out of her mind. Not only was he sparkling, he was eyelined – he wasn't sure whether he should start running when he noticed just how blue his eyes were against the black – nail-polished, lip-glossed and even hairstyled, he was surprised he still had hair on his legs. His transformation had brought tears to his friends' eyes, well Sakura was crying proudly while Sai looked like he wanted to jump him, which would lead to all sorts of no nos because they have already been through that stage and had come away more hurt than anything else. And he himself was joining in the bawling because his masculinity had officially been maimed, beheaded and its entrails burnt to charcoal.


	2. Funny

Disclaimer: same as previous.

Here is the next chapter... well extremely short chapter... but as all writer's block goes this is the best I can do without having you all wait for a decade or so.

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**Funny**

Tugging the collar of his black shirt closer around his neck and wiping he remains of his meal from the corner of his mouth, he stepped back on noiseless feet away from the sleeping girl who had been dancing and not long ago had been talking his ears off. He was glad for the peace and, of course, the hot hot blood now running through his system. That wasn't to say he didn't like these particular outings into the world, he just hated wasting time feeding. After several hundred years of doing the same thing it got rather tedious and boring. And if he could have his way, he would hook himself up permanently to a blood transfusion machine and let the stuff be pumped into his vein instead; it would most definitely free up a few hours – he had to feed on at least two victims to satisfy his hunger, being old had its downsides – and when one did the maths, he would save _so_ much time over the centuries.

However, even if he did find this a hassle he had to ask himself why he was here in the first place. Usually he just went out and fed and then went back to the confines of his lair, but tonight he had actually dressed nicely – he was always dressed immaculately, but tonight he actually went through the effort of picking out something other than his usual black cotton slacks and shirt – in silk he might add, and came to a club. A club of all places. He was definitely in a funny mood tonight. Maybe it had something to do with the full moon that was looming over the city and it was getting to his blood.

He shook his head to dislodge the thought and made his way through the matt black curtains that separated the Core of the place from the main dance floor that attracted all sorts. Memento Mori. A rather morbid name for a dance club, but it was still highly popular amongst the weird, the freakish and the Dracula-wannabes. Aside from this, Memento Mori provided a secluded place for the Otherworldly folk and hence why the Core was a much more tasteful place.

He grimaced as he moved noiselessly over the tacky floor. The lovely understated furnishings were replaced with cheesy imitation dungeon paraphernalia. If he didn't know any better he'd have thought it was the set for a B-grade horror film or a cheap porno flick. But now that he thought about it, he wasn't surprised at all.

The music pounded desperately against the thin plaster walls, thumping and pulsing. A rabbit's heartbeat racing towards a bloody end as the fox closed in.

The corners of his lips tugged upwards into an amused smirk – he was most definitely in a funny mood tonight – and he purposefully walked towards the bar, ignoring the intrigued glances he received as he passed by the few stray booths and tables lining the walls.

A few more steps took him passed the undulating dance floor packed full of sweaty writhing bodies, and towards the barstools. He picked the seat closest to the dance floor and signalled to the barkeep. When the man moved away to get his drink, he glanced once more to the moving mass of people and allowed his eyes to wander.

What was it about tonight that drew him out?


	3. Momento Mori

Disclaimer: same as previous.

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**Momento Mori**

It was both a blessing and curse when Sakura decided it would be a good idea to take the bus instead of grabbing a taxi. The blessing was that it saved them all money; the curse, well let's just say public transport wasn't such a good idea when one looked like they were trying to sell their body. Well sell his ass in this case. The shirt, which he was glad for, was at least covering the upper part of his body. He wasn't sure what'd happen if his nipples were showing because it was bad enough the women on the bus was looking at his bottom half like they've been starved for a better part of two weeks. He had wedged himself into the window seat and pulled Sakura into the seat next to him. Sai would have to find himself another seat because he didn't trust him at the moment either. Not when the teen kept licking his lips like there was no tomorrow.

He shuddered and his hand unconsciously touched the scar that marred the left side of his neck. The almost intricate weave of the ridged tissue ran from midway down his neck until it reached his collar bone. He'd had these scars along with the six whisker marks on his face ever since he was ten but he could never for the life of him remember how he had gotten it. It was almost like one of those horror movies, wherein he woke up one day in the hospital with a large pad of gauze stuck to the side of his neck and tiny little bandages on his face, and the wooziness that came with large amounts of blood loss. He'd tried asking Iruka, his guardian at the time, but the man simply clammed up and gave him a comforting pat on the back. The words 'It's better that you don't remember' were whispered into the silence and that had been the end of that.

The nurses had been nice enough when they removed the bandages but Iruka hadn't been able to afford plastic surgery, so he had been left with the scars. He'd felt numb when he stared at them and he was sure Iruka had cried when he wasn't looking. At first it was hard to get used to and the tingling – not unpleasant, but it was enough to unsettle him – did little to help; however, as time wore on he hardly paid it any mind and it was always covered. Very few have seen his scars and he was sure when he had gotten out of the changing room today no one noticed. Everyone was too busy staring at the rest of him to care and he was glad.

He absently fingered the slave collar and he could almost say he was glad that it was wrapped around his neck. At least then no one would be able to see much of the scar. Sighing a little, he snuggled further against the side of the bus and pouted.

"How the hell did you convince me to do this?"

"Oh come on, Naruto," Sakura chided, eyes reflecting the glowing and glistening lights of the street. "Live a little."

He scoffed. "_You_ try living a little when everyone's treating you like a piece of meat."

"Stop sulking." Sai's bedroom voice wafted by his left ear and a skitter of shock down his spine. Had he mentioned that his scars were highly sensitive even though they didn't tingle twenty-four seven anymore?

"Don't _do _that!"

"Do what?"

"You _know_ what, you ass!"

"Do I?"

"_Sai_!" he growled in warning and would've throttled his ex if not for the fact that Sakura had pressed the 'Stop' button and was forcibly pulling him to the door. "Sakura!"

"Will you two quit it! We're here!"

And he found himself met with the blazing red letters of Momento Mori.


End file.
