קгєץ 🕷 [ⲛⲁⲅⳙⲏⳕⲛⲁ]

Beneath A Street Light

Chapter Five

Beneath A Street Light

༒༻𝕹𝖆𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖔༺༒

Twelve Years Later

March 12, 2012

Iwa was one of the few places that could put him to sleep the moment he stepped foot in it.

Boring city, boring people, boring weather.

Naruto would have more fun watching paint dry than anything this city had to offer.

Every house and building looked carved out of stone; no color, no personality, no life.

Down trodden and dead, Iwa's destitution was a feature unlike Konoha, where sporadic pockets of crime infested hellholes were hidden away from those on the right side of the poverty line. Being amongst such a cesspool like Iwa should appeal to his lawless self, however, Naruto preferred lively, unsuspecting communities, places where folks felt safe, where the hunt was difficult but when successful, resulted in spectacular chaos and catastrophic panic.

In Iwa, bad news was just another day in the city.

He glared at the water stained ceiling.

Fucking. Boring.

He hated doing business here.

Sooner he got out of here, the better. This assignment itself was boring enough as it was.

He turned his head on the pancake flat pillow beneath it and read the crimson numbers on the digital clock placed on his bedside table.

12:47 a.m.

He clicked his teeth, rolled out of bed and grabbed his duffel bag at his feet.

Pulling out his 'uniform', he laid his clothes on the bed and stripped down. He slipped a skin tight, black, long sleeved shirt over his head, tugging the stretchy fabric firmly over his muscled torso, stepped into a matching pair of form fitting pants, buttoned and zipped then reached for his tools.

Dressed, he scooped his dual Glocks from their case and loaded the magazines, each bullet clinking pleasantly, drawing a small grin to his lips despite his boredom. He moved slow, savoring the moment, sliding a reverent thumb over every cartridge, as though fusing his very essence into each deadly projectile. Sasuke didn't understand Naruto's obsession with loading his guns 'like a meticulous creep' before a mission, why he didn't just use a clip and save himself time.

Work smarter not harder.

Fuck efficiency, this part of his prep had nothing to do with it.

This was about pleasure, creating a slight buzz ahead of time.

There was just something about manually loading cartridge's into that first magazine that Naruto absolutely relished.

Like some kinda religious ritual at this point.

Once the mag was filled, he slammed it inside both pistols with a satisfying click, checked the safety and set them aside.

He hooked his favorite hunting knife at his hip, looped his arms through his gun holster and filled the empty slots with the heavy weight of steel. He stuffed the pockets lining his pants with his mini lock pick kit, a burner phone, a small flashlight, garrote, zip-cuffs and other necessities ranging from deadly to benign. Satisfied he had what he needed for work, Naruto grabbed his fitted balaclava half mask, pulled it over his head then covered his hard chin, chiseled jaw, and scarred cheeks.