Divided Loyalty

A/N: Satterb: Yes, I managed to retell the whole of Questionable Loyalty in only several paragraphs. I felt very pathetic afterwards. T_T Anyway, I am now adding Sasuke and Kisame, as I promised I would, though I admit that my muse changed a little regarding circumstances and details. I hope you still like it!



PS to everyone: Danzo's Sharingan is not mentioned, because, frankly, I don't know what to make of it. We don't know yet how he got it, who he is, or if he's not actually Madara - which is a theory that I have had for a loooooooooong time, but I cannot prove it at the moment.



CHAPTER 2





The wave caressed Sasuke’s feet as it slowly withdrew from the beach, only to have the next rush past him and cover his legs up to the ankles, then recede again. It stirred the golden sand and it tickled his bare toes. The sun shined brightly in his eyes and he lifted a hand to shield them, the cool ocean breeze rustling in his hair. He was shirtless, his previously pale torso showing the beginnings of a golden tan, courtesy of all the time he spent on the beach. The white pants his wore reached to his calves, but their hem was already quite damp from the water sprays.



Sasuke could see Kisame in the distance, standing in a small boat and expertly casting a net in the calm sea, his large figure surprisingly graceful as he moved. Once the net was cast, Kisame sat back down in the boat and waited.



Sighing, Sasuke lifted his foot and stepped on the water as if it was solid matter, then headed for the seated man. When he finally reached him, the large man turned to look at him:



“You’ll scare away our dinner. Get in the boat.”



Sasuke rolled his eyes but followed the command, climbing in.



“You could just use your jutsu to catch fish.” He said.



“You don’t use your fire techniques to light the fire every night.” Kisame retorted, voice tinged with amusement. “Besides, I like working with my hands. It’s entertaining.”



Sasuke leaned overboard and looked down. The seawater was blue and crystal clear, despite being several meters deep in this spot, he could clearly see the bottom and the various fish that swam into Kisame’s net, most of them too small to get caught in it, rather than slide through its holes.



“Are you sure we’ll be having dinner tonight?” he inquired as he watched the net become empty again.



“Quite. You just need to be patient.”



“Patience has never been my strong point.”



“So Itachi said once.”



The mention of his brother immediately soured the mood in the boat and Sasuke quieted down for a while.



“I didn’t realize that he talked to you about me.”



“It was all he could talk about, sometimes.” Kisame admitted. “You should’ve seen how angry he was when he learned that you went to Orochimaru.”



Sasuke frowned at the wide back before him.



“Well, it’s not like I had any other choice at the time.”



“Yes. As you said, patience is not your strong point.”



Sasuke muttered something vulgar under his breath. Kisame chuckled.



“What?”



“Nothing. It’s just funny how you two are so similar, despite all your efforts to prove otherwise.”



“What is that supposed to mean?” Sasuke griped.



“You both look very aristocratic and most of the time you act more than a little snobbish… but your mouths are so dirty that you’d make a sailor blush. And I’ve met a lot of sailors in my life.”



Sasuke couldn’t help but smile.



“It’s hard to imagine my brother cussing.”



“It’s the quiet ones that surprise you.” Kisame said with exaggerated authority.



It had been almost six months since Kisame had pulled him out of death’s clutches, interfering just as that bastard Danzo was about to deliver a killing blow to him. Sasuke had attacked in a last ditch attempt to avenge his family, and his brother, but in his hastiness, he had underestimated the old man – an unforgivable mistake, considering that he had already failed to kill him in a previous attempt an year earlier.



Kisame had appeared out of nowhere and had pulled him out, then fled with the struggling young man in his arms, covering his escape with one of his fog techniques – seemingly a specialty of all the Mist Nins that Sasuke had met in his life.



It had taken them quite a while to actually begin to be civil to each other since there were so many things to cause friction between them – Kisame being quite vocal when it came to his opinion about Sasuke, namely that the younger man was an immature brat, Sasuke’s own prejudice towards his brother’s former partner, and then there was the fact that the Mist Nin always found him when he tried to escape and dragged him back to wherever they were staying at the moment. Sasuke had resented him for a long time because he considered him an obstacle on the path of his revenge against Danzo. He had gone as far as to actually challenge him to a fight, only to lose miserably, courtesy to Kisame’s huge chakra reserves, his vast experience and the fact that he had spent years training with a man who was an expert in the same kind of techniques that Sasuke used. His defeat had been more than a little humiliating and Sasuke didn’t attempt to do it again.



Eventually he had realized though, that living with someone and being constantly in conflict with them was a very energy-consuming business, so he attempted to become more civil towards the older man, finally appreciating his patience with him – after all, despite defeating him, Kisame had never actually caused him any lasting physical harm – Sasuke’s severely bruised ego didn’t count.



Kisame had brought them to this small tropical island two months ago. It was far from most of the commercial routes, but it had a small and thriving village that consisted mostly of fishermen. The Mist Nin, with his fishing abilities, knowledge of the ocean and the weather and the marine slang, had naturally fit in that community. He had bought a tiny house in the outskirts of the village from an elderly woman who was moving in with her son’s family and they had settled there. Sasuke was introduced as Kisame’s wayward nephew. If anyone wondered why the ‘nephew’ didn’t resemble the ‘uncle’ at all, they didn’t ask – after all, Kisame’s sheer height and muscles were enough of a deterrent even for the nosiest of the gossipy busybodies that always seemed to thrive in such small communities. So they were mostly left alone.



“There was a ship today, in the port.” Sasuke said to Kisame’s back.



“Oh?”



“It carried news from the continent. Danzo was defeated two weeks ago. Naruto is the new Hokage.”



A long silence followed.



“Are you angry again?” Kisame asked finally.



Sasuke looked overboard again and noticed that several larger fish had been caught in the net.



“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I wanted to be the one to kill him, but…”



“But what?”



“But I also want to leave the path that my brother set for me. I cannot be his creation anymore, Kisame.”



“The path your brother set for you?”



“Revenge. It seems to be an endless cycle, doesn’t it?”



Kisame nodded.



“I don’t know what brought on this change, but I congratulate you for it.” There was another lengthly pause and then Kisame added. “Your brother loved you very much, Sasuke. More than you could possibly imagine, or believe. But he was also a very damaged individual. He sacrificed so much, for you, for his village, and in the end his one selfish act was to want you to bring justice to him, in the way he understood justice. Perhaps if he wasn’t so damaged, he would’ve seen the folly of it.” The large man’s voice caught in the end of sentence and he cleared his throat. “I think it’s time to pull out the net. Do you want to do it?”



“You want to teach me to fish?” Sasuke asked incredulously.



“Why not? You have to be useful for something, after all.”



“Jerk.” Sasuke grumbled but moved forward and grasped the rope at the end of the net.





Minato smiled placatingly down at the elderly doctor who was sitting behind his desk, glowering back at the blonde.



“I told you already. I have seen no such people. What more do you want me to tell you?” he was blinking rapidly while he was talking and Minato could practically smell him lying.



He had spent the past month visiting all the semi-legal civilian doctors in a radius of a 100 km outside of Fire Country’s borders – knowing full well that Nagato, as Naruto had called him, would never take the risk to go to a medical nin, freelancing or not. That left those doctors who operated on the fringes of legality, and who kept their mouths shut if you paid them enough. Then again, they started talking if you paid them more, or, as a last resort, started cracking their heads.



For the past several weeks Minato had been doing a lot of both, and frankly, he was getting tired and frustrated. There was no way for Kakashi and his lover to have fled very far away – not with Kakashi’s injuries as Naruto had described them to him.



Just when he was getting desperate, he found this guy and he could tell that he was lying. The blonde took out a wad of money and began to count notes.



“Look.” He said and placed some of the money on the desk before the doctor. “You either start talking, and in return, pocket these, or I start cracking your bones and you start talking anyway.” He glared down at the man and allowed the blue glow of Chakra to begin crackling at his fingertips menacingly. The doctor licked his lips nervously when he noticed that then stared down at the money, then back at Minato’s face. Suddenly, his features hardened.



“The boy was hurt enough as he was. Why don’t you people leave him alone?” he said sharply.



Ah, a black market doctor with a consciousness. What a discovery. Minato allowed the glow to recede and gave the elderly man his most friendly smile.



“I have no intention to hurt him. I want to help him. But I need to find him first.” He added a few more notes to the money on the desk. The doctor eyed them greedily and swallowed.



“Do you really intend to help them?” he asked quietly.



Minato sighed and left the rest of the wad on the desk.



“Really.”



Finally, the doctor caved.



“I don’t know where they went.” He said sharply. Minato reached to take the money away. “But I can make a guess. Considering the boy’s injuries, they needed to move to a place where doctors can take care of him, as much as they can. I recommended some specialists.”



“Ah.” Minato left the money where they were. “Their names and locations?” the doctor reached and grabbed the money, pocketing them in his coat.



“I’ll give you a list.” He took out a sheet of paper and a pen and began writing.



“You’ll also give me a list of his injuries.” Minato said and the doctor paused.



“Why? You are Konoha Nin, yes? Don’t you people have reports detailing the torture of prisoners?” the old man accused.



“All such reports were destroyed in the attack against Konoha, and what wasn’t destroyed then was lost during the war.” Minato explained exasperatedly.



The elderly man gave him the sheet of paper, now filled with names and addresses, written in the typical unintelligible scribble that all doctors seemed to use. Minato gave a long-suffering sigh.



The doctor got up and moved to the cabinets by the wall, unlocking one of the drawers and rummaging through it.



“I wrote down his injuries and his responses to treatment, for the time that he spent here.” He said without turning back to look at Minato. Finally, he found his notes and thrust them under the blonde’s nose “Here. Take them and get the hell out of my office.”



The younger man took the notes and skimmed through them as he got up from the chair. Colour slowly drained from his face and his lips pressed into a thin white line.



“I didn’t realize it was that bad.” He said softly.



“That bad?!” the doctor suddenly erupted. “Your friends left him a physical and emotional cripple for the rest of his life!”



Minato winced.



“I have NOTHING to do with people like that, Sensei!” he said sharply. The doctor seemed to deflate.



“Do you really want to help him?” he asked. Minato nodded. “Then help the other too. The red-head.”



The former Hokage frowned at the notion. As pretty as his words had been when he spoke to Naruto about forgiveness during their little tete-a-tete while trying to stop him from releasing Kyuubi completely, they didn’t change the fact that Pein, or Nagato, or whatever he wished to call himself, had killed Jiraiya-sensei in cold blood. He had believed what he had said to Naruto about revenge, but justice was an entirely different thing. And murderers, as far as he was concerned, had to face justice.



Apparently his feelings had been written on his face because the doctor was frowning at him.



“Pein is a good man. Better than most that I have met. I don’t know what connects the three of you, but I can tell that you have no warm feelings for him.” Minato turned to look at him, but said nothing. “Whatever your sentiments are” the doctor continued “if you truly want to help the boy, you won’t hurt those he loves. So I suggest that you think hard what is more important to you – your desire deal with Pein-sama, or your desire to help your friend. Now, as I already said, get the hell out of my office.”