Of Heaven and Hell

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing.

AN: Okay, uhm, first off, this is a kind of bizarre twist on an AU sasuxnaru story—bizarre even for me. I swear, there will be sex in the next one, so just try and get through it. I hope you’ll like this fic. A lot of it was based off Christian/Catholic beliefs and such, and I’ll explain what everything is.

There’s a bit of terminology about the different types of feathers on wings.
Primaries are the long feathers at the bottom ridge of wings.
Coverlets are the tiny little patches of feathers at the top of a wing, kind of at the shoulder.
Secondaries are closer to the body than the primaries.

Seraphims are the angels in heaven that serve beneath God and oversee everything. Such as Gabriel, Michael, etc. They belong to the first hierarchy of angels.

The second Hierarchy includes the Powers, Dominions, etc. I kind of shooed them away in this fic for the sake of everything flowing together nice.

Finally, the Principalities—or the Protectors, as I called them—oversee earth and monitor activity there. They’re in the Third Hierarchy, but personally, I think they have a very important job.

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Naruto shuddered slightly as a gust of cool air brushed along his spine, tickling the nape his neck, muscles in his spine tingling and bunching together, tensing. His eyes darted from face to face, staring at the myriad of city dwellers below, longing to be one of them, knowing that such was not possible to one of his kind. He was different, had always been different, would always be different. But he had grown to embrace his nature, now, and smiled faintly to himself.

His hand wafted to his forehead, shielding his azure eyes from the blazing sunlight. Licking his slightly chapped lips, he smirked to himself, knowing that things had changed. His old life was a memory, really—more like a story he had read about someone else's. He couldn't remember much from before he died.

Letting his hand fall, he grinned widely as he jumped from the ledge and spread his wings.

This had to be one of the benefits to death, he admitted to himself silently as he moved, muscles in his shoulder blades contracting and releasing, wings batting up and down. His death—though he could barely recall its certain circumstances—had been painful, and he could still vaguely remember being uncomfortable. But flying pushed everything else away, made him a new person, made everything seem alright.

He had to admit he was a little lonely. It wasn’t that he was particularly void of other angels or simple souls he could have spent his time with—it was simply that he chose not to. True, there were some he could call “friends,” if those mortal labels could be applied in the afterlife. But even those were just acquaintances. He never could understand them. They always spoke of feeling complete, feeling whole—that death had cleansed them of all the sufferings and pains of humanity.

Naruto could not understand them because he could not relate.

He could not relate because of the gaping, agonizing, suffocating pain where his heart would have been if he had been alive.

A gust of hot wind sliced through his secondary set of feathers, ruffling them as the air wriggled between their barbs, spreading them apart as he sailed upwards. The tips of his wings arched downwards daintily as he soared lazily, not beating his wings save the occasional bat that carried him faster. Stifling a yawn with the back of his wrist, Naruto wondered if this was to be his eternity—day after day of aimless flying, wondering if there was something else, unsure why he felt as though he had lost himself when he had died.

Sometimes he wondered how, why he had died—the angels at the Desks would not tell him what had caused it. The only information they would give him was useless, pointless, and vague. “You died young, lost, but not alone.”

Young? Lost? Not alone?

If Naruto had ever been any of those three, it surely must have been alone. He couldn’t remember his life—angels were supposed to spend their time until the end of the world piecing information, hints, memories they could gather from themselves together. It was like a jigsaw puzzle, really—a puzzle of one’s identity. The other angels found it to be great fun. Every day they could remember something else—a childhood injury, the name of their first pet, something. But Naruto, broken, empty Naruto, could recall nothing.

That would have been considered a lie, if angels could lie. It was more of an omission of the truth, really. Naruto could recall a faint memory, but he did not consider it a break through, due to its content. His mind showed him nothing, gave him no hint.

Icy sweat, burning, fire, everywhere. Sulfur, smoke, flame. Why was he cold? He was cold. It was cold. What was that touching him? Iron? Why was he chained down? Why was he so cold? Why? Hand touching his chest, lips kissing his face, body pressing against him. Hot. Why couldn’t he see? Why was he safe? Why was he warm? Who? Why? Where?

“I love you.”

Shaking his head, the blonde angel folded his right wing against his chest, tucking the tenth primary close to him as he corkscrewed, spiraling towards the ground. Daggering through the air, he could feel the oxygen peel around him, enveloping him like a second skin, caressing his face. He guessed it was the closest feeling to being loved he could ever experience. His eyelids slipped shut as he strained his ears, listening to the flip-flapping noise of his white robes as they fluttered in the wind.

The earrings that dangled from his ears tinkled softly, myriad of black hoops brushing against one another, making music only he could hear. Naruto tucked his other wing against his chest, stretching the broad muscles across his back, body gracefully straightening as he slid through the sky. He was a fish, swimming and diving through his airy ocean, cocooned, enveloped in the cool womb, entire body quivering with the pure excitement of flying, of falling. Of being free.

Here, in the sky, he could forget everything, even that which he wanted to remember. Nothing else existed—nothing but him, his wings, and the air as it tickled against the intricate pattern of feathers. A glance towards his abdomen showed him the tiny downy tufts of his coverts, overlapping and resting one atop the other. They were a piece of art, wings. He could still recall the years he spent curled up beneath a shady tree in Heaven, resting beside a trickling creek, fingers running through, exploring his angelic additions.

Naruto sneezed quietly as the misty tendril of a nearby cloud teased his nostrils faintly, delicately brushing against his nose. Arching his back, he bent himself in the middle, curving his line of movement as he barreled downwards. He shook his head, earrings jangling faintly once more, and he flung his wings out, bracing himself for the halt-stop. The impromptu parachutes surrounded pockets of air, buoying him, slowing his speed as he wafted downwards like a leaf on the wind.

Only when he was near the ground did he look where he was.

He was in the middle of a busy city—not by choice, however. The urban jungle had been the meeting place the other angels agreed upon. While he would have preferred a removed, secluded forest area, away from the living, Ino and the others wished to share the latest assignments from the Desks here. Naruto sighed, expecting the girls wanted to shop. Girls would be girls regardless of their state of existence.

The streets were greasy and grimy, he noted mutely as he hovered above the buildings, level with the highest spires of the city. He could see the people passing below him, mindlessly carrying on, oblivious to the angel right above them. Running a hand through his blonde hair, Naruto shrugged, dropping himself the rest of the way, till he reached the pavement. Folding his wings neatly, tucking them against his back, Naruto headed towards the scheduled place, eyes scanning the mortals around him.

No one saw him. Not the boy that passed him, not the man with the briefcase that walked beside him. Not even the woman carrying the red purse who bumped into him. No one saw him. Not only because he was invisible, but because they did not expect to see a blonde angel beside them with white robes and wings, black earrings dangling from his ears to his shoulders. People—mortals—cannot see what they don’t believe in. But if they only looked for it, they would have known he was right there.

Folding his arms across his chest, Naruto slipped his hands into the adjacent sleeves, wingtips fluttering irritably. He hated being in the city, especially at rush hour during lunchtime. Everyone was so busy, so absorbed in their own little lives. They carried on as though they would live forever, never establishing relationships with those around them, never pausing to help someone in need. It pained Naruto to see humans, many of whom were longing for companionship, seeking it in empty sex. Humans.

Naruto’s leather strapped sandals kicked away a littered, empty soda cup, splashing its contents along the sidewalk. He jumped over it out of old habits, though if he had stepped in the murky puddle, he would not have been wet. Angels had a sort of holy stain guard that always worked perfectly. He had to admit it came in handy, as did his etherealness. None of the hundreds of people he passed were able to bump into him—if they had been, they surely would have, the way the scuttled along the sidewalk like a school of fish.

Horns blared, stereos thumped, people spoke, shouted, screamed, yelled. All in all, earth was a very noisy field of existence, and Naruto much preferred Heaven. However, he had no choice—any news from the Desks was of ultimate importance, and all Protectors had to attend a meeting in order to hear their assignments.

As he waited impatiently for the crosswalk hand to turn to a little walking figurine, Naruto glanced upwards, staring at the street sign. Sanctuary. Sanctuary Street. What a horribly ridiculous name for a street, he mused once it was safe to walk—yes, he was aware of the fact that he wouldn’t die were he to be hit, but he preferred to pretend he was alive, even if it was just this way. Sanctuary could not be found on a street. It was his job as a Protector to offer Sanctuary—how dare a road take credit for his work? He wasn’t angry—he didn’t get angry. He was more amused than naught else.

Spying the correct locale for the angelic rendezvous, Naruto swam his way through the sea of bodies, trying to avoid hitting the people who could not have felt him if they tried. Not until he entered the coffee shop, scents of java, mocha, and other types of bean flooding his nostrils did he realize that it had been cold outside. Extreme temperatures did not affect him—if he was cold, he only noticed it as an afterthought. But it was obviously warm in here. A roaring fire blazed on the hearth, lapping at the grill as it crackled cheerfully, casting a slightly ominous sheen around the room. He stared at it suspiciously for a moment before wandering towards the bathrooms. Angels hated to be around fire—they were the telephones, so to speak, of the demons.

He hadn’t looked for the other Protectors, though he could feel their presences, knew they were there. They, too, had probably not yet transformed, and would not appear before the humans. Transformation usually took a lot out of an angel, but it was a requirement at meetings about the Desks, one that had been upheld since the fall of Lucifer. There has always been a rumor that angels may not lie. For true Seraphims, Cherbims, and other angels in the Second and Third Hierarchies such was the case—no mistruth may have ever left their lips. However, Lucifer—the first human to ever became an angel—could, indeed, lie. And so God decreed the angels had to be in human form when discussing matters pertaining to the Desks. A sort of insurance policy.

Naruto padded noiselessly towards the restrooms, slipping through the door, stepping into an open stall. He shut his eyes, raising his palms above his head, pointing them towards the sky, as though holding something flat overhead. He prayed quietly, lips moving frantically as they formed a prayer in Latin.

There was no big, fancy explosion, thickly layered on with special effects and gaudy sparkles. No lights flashed as angel became flesh and blood. His wings simply melded into his spine, disappearing beneath the shimmering opalescence of his white robes. His fingers twitched, curling towards the ceiling slightly. He hated this part, this moment when his wings disappeared, when he was left vulnerable, without them.

Several seconds later, less than half a minute after he had stepped into the restroom, he strode out, visible to human eyes. Instead of the emptiness they would have seen, now stood a blonde male. He wasn’t extremely tall, but he had grown into his own. Blue eyes glinted with liveliness—ironic, really—sparkled with mischievousness. Naruto tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind his ears, idly fingering the obsidian hoops of his bangle earrings. Tugging on the collar of his turtleneck irritably, Naruto wished he could have been wearing something slightly less warm, especially since the flames of the fire heated the coffee shop to an almost unbearable temperature.

He plucked at woolen threads on his sleeves, staring out at the room, watching it closely for one of the other Protectors. It was a simple, common coffee shop—the kind that sells its merchandise on everything. Coffee in bags, little cookies, cakes—even shirts and mugs. It was one of Shikamaru’s favorite places, and it had been his turn to decide the meeting place. It was a bit too hot for Naruto’s taste, as he always materialized in the same jeans and turtleneck. He knew he looked like he was fresh from a vintage clothing commercial—but he didn’t really have a hand in deciding what he wore. The Desks decided, and apparently they liked white turtlenecks and pants.

Naruto knew where the other Protectors were—several were transforming as he searched for the rest. Ino and Hinata were sitting at a table near the window, hunched over a newspaper, heatedly discussing the headlines. He sighed, ruffling his hair. He had never quite understood the whole appeal about girls. They were loud, obnoxious, annoying, and they liked to laugh at anything. Shrugging his shoulders, he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, wandering over towards them.

Hinata noticed him first. “Naruto,” she said quietly, as though simply observing his presence. As though she hadn’t known he was there. But she could feel him, just as he could feel her. He noticed with satisfaction that the girls had chosen a table as far away from the fireplace as possible. Good. They weren’t dumb, after all—just girls.

Nodding to Hinata in acknowledgment, Naruto plopped down into a seat next to her, pulling his knees up against his chest. He didn’t feel like himself today—word from the Desks always put him on edge. It could have been a meeting about the most mundane of tasks, but he figured it was something a bit more serious than that. For Ino and Hinata to have been called in, something must have been serious.

Rumor had it the two females were the closest to becoming Powers—the angels who oversaw the affairs of the entire universe, not just one planet. Protectors, like Naruto, maintained order on earth. However, at the turn of the new millennium, Ino and Hinata would move up in the ranks, as they had been Protectors far longer than any of the other angels in their sector.

Naruto sensed Chouji and Shikamaru behind him. Tilting his head back, he grinned widely at the pair, waving at them. Chouji trailed behind his thinner, taller counterpart like a puppy. Chouji was the youngest Protector out of them all—he had only been dead for four centuries. He and Shikamaru often went on missions together, Shikamaru being a natural…dead…leader. The angel wore his hair in a ponytail, each hair perfectly in place, clothes neatly kempt. He was tall and lanky—the exact opposite of Chouji. But the pair were inseparable.

Ino glanced up from her paper at Shikamaru, noticing him solely, and grinned steadily, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear daintily. She battered her blue eyes at him like a doe, neatly stacking the piles of parchment one on top of the other. For a female, Naruto had to admit, she was very organized. He suspected it had to do with her many years—God Himself forbid Naruto if he ever brought the subject of her age into discussion, however. She was slightly sensitive about being the oldest angel still a Protector.

Shikamaru muttered a bored, dry greeting, taking a seat next to Chouji and crossing his legs, propping his arm against the backing. He sighed quietly, as though he had somewhere to be and was in a great rush. Chouji raised a hand and hastily summoned a shapely looking hipster waitress, requesting a scone and coffee. Shikamaru’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, much to the disdain of Ino, who sat across the circular table shooting daggers at the female.

Naruto, on the other hand, wasn’t looking at the woman, or at Ino, or Hinata, or any of the other males at his table, however. He couldn’t see the man’s face, but someone had just passed by the thick window which put them on display like merchandise in a commercial store. The human scurried away from him, fading into the surging mass of bodies, but Naruto followed his figure the back of his head, the nape of his neck, the length of his arms, the shape of his torso like a hawk. Something about the man’s black hair, dark as coal, flayed out in the back stirred an aching, longing within his stomach, and he yearned to clasp his hand around the stranger’s wrist, demanding why he felt as though he knew this boy.

“N…Naruto?” The voice lanced through his thoughts like a blade, and Naruto swiveled his attention towards Hinata, gaze darting to her face before trying to locate the faceless body that enraptured him. But it was to no avail, and he refocused his gaze on the woman, peering at her intently.

“Yeah?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, flicking his head as his unruly hair flung itself in his line of vision.

“We’re about to start…” she murmured demurely, casting her gaze downward, looking steadily at the table, as though reading the message from the Desks in the wooden grains.

Grinning from ear to ear, the blonde turned his back to the window, casting a surreptitious glance towards the fireplace, detecting nothing from there but heat. Ino, he noticed, was gripping the table tightly, fingernails digging into its surface as she stared at the dirty-blonde waitress. He had to admit she was pretty, with her green eyes. He even liked the four pig-tail sort of things tied on either side of her neck and at the top of her scalp. Shikamaru seemed to like them, as well.

“Excuse me,” Ino drawled through clenched teeth, as though she considered herself much higher than the other woman. Which, when considering the differences between mortal and angel was rather true. “Excuse me,” she said, more firmly this time, pointedly glaring at the woman. “We’re about to have a private discussion. Just us. Thank you for the coffee.” She nodded her head, not towards Chouji’s coffee or scone, but the free cup the waitress had given to Shikamaru for being “just too cute.”

The woman shrugged her shoulders casually, winking at Shikamaru as she wandered away. Naruto thought there was something strange about her, but he couldn’t quite figure out what…What was it…?

Just then, a gust of cold air blew down his spine, tickling the small gap between his chin and his collar. Glancing towards the newly opened door, his heart suddenly leapt into his throat. It was the man! Only now, Naruto could see his face. And he couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Naruto?” Hinata asked, tugging on his sleeves.

“I’m paying attention…” he said, voice trailing off slightly. The man with jet black eyes and ivory skin was brushing off his shoulders—apparently, it had begun snowing since they had stepped inside the coffee shop. He glanced around the room, as though looking for something, but seemed unable to locate it, whatever it was.

“Hey, if Naruto’s not paying attention, can I go out and eat until he decides to join us?” Chouji’s words—and the truth behind them—made Naruto blush a faint scarlet, and he tore his eyes away from the stranger almost painfully, directing his gaze onto the papers in Ino’s hands. Shikamaru, who looked as though he was falling asleep suddenly perked up as she began to shuffle through them, finally selecting one, seizing it, and setting it in the middle of the table.

Ten eyes latched onto the paper, a wave of almost perceptible dread sweeping over them. For a moment, no one dared breathe, until their lungs began to burn and they gulped down refreshing mouthfuls of air. However, they held their breaths, more or less.

“Is this for real?” Shikamaru asked incredulously, a foreign, different tone in his voice. It was fear.

Naruto leaned back against the seat, staring at the man once more, eyes gazing at him as those willing him to come over and make it all better. The human grabbed a cup of coffee over the counter and stood inspecting the merchandise scattered around the cash register. Naruto was thankful for the respite, as pathetic as it was.

So. Lucifer had chosen a second in command.

That was bad. Very bad. The badness was immeasurable.

Naruto ran a hand through his hair frantically, nervous habit seizing him as he fingered the silken strands of golden hair. The simple action alone caused his thumping, hammering heart make it so he could breathe once more. The tips of his fingers brushed against his earrings as he looked at the others at the table. Instead of reading their shocked expressions, he stared at their earrings. It was something that had always bothered him, made him feel as though he didn’t really belong with the other angels.

Their earrings were all light colors, like blue or pink or green. His were black. Black like the night, black like the emptiness he knew writhed in hell, black like the captivating man’s hair. Forcing his mind to stay on subject, his fingers slipped to toy with the ornament dangling from the ends of his earrings. He winced as it punctured his skin, forgetting that in human form he could feel pain. That was another thing that made his earrings so different. While the others earrings were simple hoops interlocking, his ended with long, sharp, hooked claws.

Sighing quietly, he stilled his mind, closing his eyes, reaching inside his heart, grasping for stillness. “Ino?” he asked softly, afraid his voice would waver if he were any louder. “What have the Desks said?”

The Desks, referred to as a whole unit, were a set of the elite Seraphims who watched over everything—not only earth, not only heaven, not only the universe. Everything. They were the Right Hands of God, instruments of His Greatness, and through them He worked. The Desks gave out instructions to each sector of angels every so often. Now was one of those times, Naruto guessed.

The blonde female sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “The Desks only told me that I should instruct everyone to carry on as they normally do. I’ll assign you all with your missions today, and we’ll meet against next week. In fact, I wasn’t supposed to even mention this to the rest of you.” She folded his hands on her lap delicately, as though she were discussing the weather over a cup of tea. “However, using my judgment, I opted to reveal this information to you. Be on your guard gentlemen—and ladies,” she added with a polite nod to Hinata.

“Don’t be alarmed,” she continued, lowering her voice to a faint whisper. Chouji and Shikamaru, sitting across from her, had to lean forward in order to hear her. “We’ve known Lucifer was planning something, had been planning something for a long time now. This shouldn’t come as a shock to any of you. Just keep your eyes open. If you notice anything suspicious, tell me right away. Anyone have anything to report?’ she asked breezily, finished with the seriousness of everything, moving on as though existence itself wasn’t in danger.

Though it was probably paranoia, Naruto figured he should at least mention something about the waitress had felt…funny. Usually, Naruto’s instincts were right, and it would be one hell of a time for them to be correct and for him not to follow them. He scooted upwards in his chair, glancing at Hinata whose mouth was opened as she looked at him, as though to tell him something. He winked at her, and parted his lips to speak. “Hey, Ino…about that waitress…”

And that was when he fell onto Naruto. The blonde didn’t even realize the black haired man had moved, and yet there he was, face inches from Naruto’s, jet eyes gazing up at him.

“Sorry,” he whispered softly, making no move to rise. Somehow, he had looped his arm around Naruto’s neck and had pulled the angel down towards him, instantly alleviating any distance between the two of them. The blonde could have counted each individual hair on the man’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows, had he wanted to. And yet, he found himself unable to break his line of sight, unable to turn away from those deep, dark eyes that burned into him.

“It’s alright…” Naruto murmured, half-shutting his own eyes as his head spun dizzily, entire world swaying back and forth as though he was on a boat.

“Naruto?” Hinata whispered. Had Naruto been paying attention, he would have detected the hint of possessive irritation tingeing her words.

He was beautiful, Naruto realized. He moved slowly, as though stuck in tar, untangling himself from the man’s limbs, helping him stand. He couldn’t quite place it—maybe it was the way his black trench coat clung to his body like another skin, outlining and defining his form perfectly. Maybe it was the way his hair was perfectly in place, flicking out in the back seductively, as though taunting him to see if it would stay down when mussed. Or maybe it was the way he barely blinked, gazing straight into Naruto’s eyes, as though there was no shop with overpriced coffee, no one else at the table around them, no one else in the world.

“Are you two done, or are we going to have to get you a room?” Chouji muttered. It was obvious he wanted to get up and go. Meetings were always boring, but this one was particularly troubling. His irritation was understandable, but Naruto hated him for making the world move again.

Bowing his head apologetically, the young man stepped backwards, away from their table. “Sorry about that, again. I slipped on my coat. Excuse me.”

And with that, he darted out the door, into the snow, into the crowd, and was gone.

Naruto stared after him dazedly, hand moving to caress his cheek. He could still feel that hot breath against his face, could still feel that soft hand beneath his collar, dipping beneath the fabric to touch his bare flesh. Naruto suddenly felt hotter than he had before, and realized he was blushing. That was another bad thing about having human reactions—desire, lust, want, need could be physically manifested in the form of a blush.

“This is so troublesome,” Shikamaru groaned, stifling a yawn. “Can we just get our missions and get out of here? Please?”

“Not yet,” Ino hissed, snapping her fingers to gain Naruto’s attention. “Naruto. Angel. What were you saying about the waitress?”

“Oh lay off, it, Ino—”

“What were you saying, Naruto?” she asked once more, a bit more urgently.

He blinked at her, focusing on her face once more. What had be been saying? He seemed to have forgotten. “Oh, it was nothing, Ino,” he said reassuringly, smiling at Hinata. The quieter of the females seemed to have a calming effect on her loudmouth counterpart. As long as she was pacified, Naruto would be in the clear. However, she seemed a bit distant, simply nodding at him, instead of shyly smiling back.

“See? Nothing. Can we get our missions and go eat?” Chouji growled, placing a hand on his stomach. Ino glanced at him, annoyance creasing her forehead. Yet she simply shrugged, nodding stoically.

The woman grabbed her pile of papers once more, sorting through them with a practiced ease. “Well, it seems that we in Sector F-9 don’t have too many missions this time. I suppose the Desks are more concerned with…other things…than the affairs of the Protectors.”

Naruto grabbed his paper when she offered it to him, and he jumped to his feet, excusing himself. He knew it was rude to leave before the meeting had been dismissed, but he wanted to see if he could still catch up to the stranger before the man was gone forever.

Once on the streets, he was brushed against and battered, having forgotten that he was made of flesh, now, material to human beings. Dodging the bodies, Naruto weaved through the fabric that moved and breathed and thought and spoke, unsure where he was going, really. He hadn’t expected to find the man again. He had mostly wanted to just get out of there.

Before he could allow himself to think about what he had just learned, he forced himself to slip into an alley, straining to read his paper. Being an angel, he knew quite a few things, such as the time and temperature, no matter where he was. A shiver crept up his spine—and it wasn’t from the snow, which still wafted downwards lazily from overhead. The first mission on his paper was to take place in less than half an hour.

He didn’t have time to worry or think about whether or not he was being watched by the people passing him. He didn’t have enough time to think. But he knew that humans tended to concern themselves with only the affairs directly affect their own lives. It was highly unlikely that anyone would look into the dark shadows of an alleyway simply because.

Raising his hands, palms up, once more, Naruto muttered the customary, sacred prayer, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply, calming his mind. Slight pain lanced through his shoulders before disappearing as his wings shot out from behind him, propelling him into the air before his clothes changed into the shimmering white of robes.

His wings beat the sky violently, thrusting himself through the air, the night air wrapping around him, snowflakes tickling the tip of his nose. He flew low, right above the heads of pedestrians, not wanting to waste any time searching for currents or eddies that would carry him higher. Protectors needed to be near the ground, near mortals, at times.

And this was one of those times.


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Sorry about the sort of abrupt cut off. Hope you enjoyed it so far. Everything—everything I say!—will be explained in detail as the story progresses. And yes, that man was Sasuke. =p