Game of Chess

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Naruto traced where the lines were on his cheeks, "What the hell?" He whispered in a hushed voice and put the book away. It all clicked in place for him, He was the hokage's son ... what the hell is going on here?

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Haru Doki followed a young woman through the trees as she snapped pictures of the casino before snapping a picture of her and leaving. Soon he found a spot deep in the forest and waited on the ground. After a couple minutes six anbu dropped down from the trees. Five wore black cloaks, but the last was wearing a regular anbu uniform with a boar mask ...

"Here is the target." Haru handed them the picture he just took, "Her name is Sara Watch and she has been snooping around. It seems she managed to get some evidence of illegal activities. Boar, you will stop at the casino to show you're on the scene and will be ready. Then you respond to a fire alert at three in the middle of the night and say you did everything you could and you make the reports say accident, understood?" Haru noticed the anbu in question clench his fist slightly.

"Yes ... it will be done." Boar said.

"Good." Haru leaned towards the anbu, "and do keep in mind what will happen if you don't. Would be a shame if anything happened to your childhood friend. Civilians are fragile." He smirked as he noticed the anbu flinch. "Now, for the rest of you it will be a simple matter of extracting all the information she has and getting the usual backup in case plan A hits a roadblock. We must be done by midnight because we need to be at the ports by one." He glanced at Boar and scoffed before leaving. All the other ninjas left with only Boar being left behind. Boar clenched his fists until his nails dug into his skin drawing blood.

*crack* He slammed his fist into the closest tree making a deep scar in the trunk, "Bastard." In his anger he didn't see a bat and a lizard quickly scurry away.

XXXXXXXXXX

Buzzing of a tattoo needle was the only comforting to Naruto at the moment. It was the best way to drown out the sounds of his current client who would not stop trying to gossip in between yelps of pain.

"And, of course, I come home to find a mess and bloody clothes." She yelped as the tattoo needle brushed across the skin on her arm. "My husband, the lazy fool, just said that he got back from some stupid mission at midnight and was too tired to clean up." She whimpers again as the needle dug in a little harder than before, though, deliberately this time, not that she would've guessed. "He never does anything right. I don't know why I bother. I don't even have good sex as an excuse. The only good thing that came of it was my two sons. I love both of them even if my oldest is as passionless as his father- ... Oh, it's gorgeous!" The raven haired woman gazed at her new tattoo with a satisfied grin.

"I'm glad to her you like it, Mrs. Uchiha, and you are just in time to join your friends." Naruto said with a hint of relief in her voice. Not just because she liked it, but also because she would be leaving soon.

"Like it? I love it! Thank you so much, Naruto." She purred and ran her fingers along Naruto's hawk tattoo on his left bicep. "I bet you're not a passionless man. Come visit the Uchiha compound sometime. Oh and call me Mikoto." She gave a flirty wink.

Naruto mentally sweat dropped, but simply smiled as she paid before happily strutting out of the shop with Yoshino Nara and Yuki Yamanaka. "Passionless? ... not the word I'd use ... not at all." He glanced at his clones and shuddered. All three women got tattoos and propositioned him. "Not completely sure if I should tell Inoichi, Fugaku and Itachi about this or not." He shrugged and went to clean his station.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the drawing room right across the hall and his thoughts went right back to the hundreds of sketches he made of tadpoles. It didn't feel right at all. Every time he started he couldn't find the right idea and it would end up in the trash. It was always too cartoony or not enough color or too little detail or it was the wrong angle and so on ...

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