Inheritance

The Crow's Eye

"So," Naruto called out over the rush of wind past his ears. "Who's the target?"

Jiraiya glanced back, eyes hard. "Akatsuki hit squad. Here to take out a Kiri arms dealer with a price on his head in a few other countries. Kiri can't publicly show support to a criminal with their own shinobi, no matter how much they buy from them, so they've hired us under the table to protect him."

Naruto frowned. "Akatsuki have hit squads?"

Outside of the most notorious figures, Jiraiya had been frustratingly tight-lipped about the inner workings of the organisation set on capturing him. He knew of the shinobi at the top—of those, Jiraiya had given him a frightening amount.

"The nine focal members have been doing what they can, but the scale of what the Akatsuki intend to do needs greater numbers. They've been employing a huge number of missing-nin to collect on lesser bounties and to serve as foot soldiers. But, the more they rely on these, the more weaknesses there are in their security. We aren't here to just stop the assassination, our own personal mission is to take the hit-squad captive and interrogate."

Naruto nodded, his own face hard, matching his sensei's. This was a part of Jiraiya's role as Konoha's spymaster—at least it had been. Information in the shinobi world was not easily given up, and was the most crucial weapon in their arsenal.

That didn't change how much his sensei hated what he had to do, no matter his experience in the matter. The man's short temper, even compared to usual since Konoha had fallen, suddenly made an awful lot of sense.

They came to a halt on the edges of a clearing nearly an hour later, just as dusk was beginning to take hold, obscuring vision even further than the thin curtain of ever present Mizu no Kuni mist had earlier on. In the murk, Naruto could make out the dancing flames of a campfire, and the coppery tang of blood in the air.

Too late.

They didn't need to get any closer to know that, but Jiraiya signaled for Naruto to follow him into the clearing regardless. Their real target, after all, could still be close—or even still there, if they were feeling especially overconfident. He supressed his own chakra—not an easy feat given how much of it he could bring to bear now—and followed Jiraiya into the clearing following their usual procedure.

Immediately his eyes widened, as their target stopped suppressing their own chakra—or, in fact, chakras—and a dense wave of power and killing intent washed over the clearing that two years ago would have buckled his knees.

Instead, he was able to dodge the chakra laced spear that lanced at him out of the mist, neatly sidestepping the attack as it shot into the ground beside him.

"Eh, Itachi-san, are you sure we can't kill this one?" The voice seemed to come from every direction, ringing out around the trees surrounding them, though it seemed to come from a male on the younger side.

"I would advise against it, Deidara. That is the jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi no Kitsune—Uzumaki Naruto."

Itachi emerged from the mist before them without warning, swathed in the distinctive black and red cloak of the Akatsuki, crimson eyes spinning. Unlike the last time they'd met, the cloak was already unbuttoned, ready to allow Itachi full freedom of movement, as though fully prepared for full scale battle against Jiraiya and his apprentice.

Naruto, though, knew better, and the bubble of anxiety at potentially facing a pair of S-ranked shinobi lessened. Itachi was, and had always been, loyal to Konoha, and was Jiraiya's main contact within Akatsuki.

"Ahh for shame—that gormless expression would have made for a spectacular central element within my next glorious artwork. No matter. His legs will do instead—he doesn't need those, does he, Itachi?"