As Above So Below

As Above So Below
Chapter 7

A tall, thin man, who’s aristocratic features belied the threadbare and mismatched clothes he was wearing, looked smug as another man, as thick as the first was thin, and as florid as the first was pale, cursed softly as he stared through the lens of a telescope trained on the apartment across the way.

“I told you he had some connection to that Madaran bastard, Tony,” the first said with practiced hauteur. “And I also told you that in time, Stefan would come to him.”

Tony, as meanly dressed as his companion, simply swore again, unable to tear his eyes from the two men in the room across the junk cluttered courtyard, riveted by the fact that the younger boy so greatly resembled the object of their hatred.

“Perhaps another bastard son, Frank?” Tony inquired, breathing heavily as always.

“Indubitably,” the first said, ignoring the fact that Tony had used that damned nickname despite his wishes while watching the fat man with something akin to awe. How did Tony still remain so obese? It had been four years of barely eking a living from the filthy streets of the city, since Stefan Madara had made fools of them all in the courtroom. Made fools of them and cost them the very profitable companies both had enjoyed. Tony, fatter than ever, had run the agency that supplied the nanny to Stefan Madara’s whore of a woman, as Francis had run the ivy league ranked private school that Stefan’s apparently youngest bastard son had attended back then.

After the ridiculous high profile media circus of Madara and Arashi’s trial, both men had lost everything. And Francis, who’d descended from kings and queens in England, had been drug down into the slums where he now lived and reigned. It was a horrifying, novel experience for the transplanted aristocrat. He never regretted his financial partnership with Tony more than he had that day, when the verdict came down that Stefan and his household of wicked sinners had won. It had brought undivided attention to Tony’s agency, which had been more than a supplier of nannies. If you knew the right names, you could get yourself a very high priced call girl. Once that little tidbit had come out at the trial, Francis’ long time business association had cost him his tenured position in the school, which had its roots in Cambridge and Eton.

For the last four years, Frances had been practically destitute, his family and social peers abroad having turned their backs on him because of the international scandal. Now he had nothing, and it was that dark haired bastard’s fault. That dark haired devil who courted immortal damnation by his chosen lifestyle and was right now, across the way.

Francis burned for revenge. He hated Stefan Madara and Nathan Arashi with all his might and main. Not only had they taken from him everything that mattered, but they were what his peers in England would term ‘new money’. Stefan’s grandfather had been an immigrant from the slums of Japan, and Nathan, as everyone knew, came from poor Swedish parents, fresh from the boat.

God, how he hated them both. But until now, he’d been unable to penetrate the cloak of security both men had surround their damned family with since the trial. Well, both Stefan and Nathan were here, in his neck of the woods now, and there were no body guards, no gates, between them now.

“We must strike now, Tony,” Francis said softly, eyes gleaming with vengeance. “Now, while they are here. And we can take out his other bastard son with both of them.”

Tony frowned, straightening slowly. “And what of their harlot and hell spawn?”

“Once Stefan is gone, the Madaran empire will crumble. He’s the last of his line, him and his sons. Once the patriarch is gone, who will protect that slut they call a wife? Who will keep his son safe then? Nathan will be gone too. The bitch will have no one to protect her. It’s time I say. Call your friends. We can get them all at once.”

And Tony chuckled darkly, belly bouncing, as he reached for the phone.

*******

Stefan wondered how he’d been pulled into this farce, and gave Nathan a dark look. Of course, the blonde man had insisted they allow ‘Sasuke’ to show them the proof he swore he had. Which had led them now to following his younger look alike down the twisting and winding labyrinthine canyons of downtown alleys. Stefan was glad he’d brought his gun. Not that he would need it, not after years of lessons by Naruto in her unique fighting style. But a little equalizer never hurt.

In due time, they came to the squalid and smelly alley that Sasuke had found himself in five weeks ago. And found a strange man standing leaning against the grimy brick walls.

Stefan’s face twisted. He’d seen this man before, smoking his smelly joints on the street corner whenever he could, smiling like a fool and begging money as he strummed a battered guitar. The plot was thickening.

“Holy shit!” Shikamaru said, stunned. “Naruto, is that you?” Sure, the whiskers were missing, but a good coat of make up could achieve that. God, he looked so old!

“No,” Sasuke snapped. “It’s his counterpart. Naruto’s not here. This is Nathan, and this here, is Stefan.”

“Wow,” Shikamaru said, looking Stefan up and down, nettling the older man. “Fuck, it really is weird how much they look like us.”

“I’m glad your still here, Shikamaru. I was afraid you’d already made the rendezvous. You haven’t, have you?” Sasuke asked, masking his anxiety. If the door had already opened, it would be another twelve days before it did so again, and he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to have the two men here to see his proof.

Stefan was getting more and more angry. This plot was developing quickly. What rendezvous? Was this some sort of evil conspiracy to bring them down? ‘Sasuke’ wasn’t the first to try and surely wouldn’t be the last. His hand found the gun in his pocket.

“Madara,” a voice at the mouth of the alley spoke up.

Sasuke turned sharply, and beheld the tall thin man standing just inside. “Who the hell are you?” He didn’t need any interruptions right now.

“Francis Middlewaithe. I should have known.” Stefan turned to Sasuke. “I see your plan now. In cahoots with this disenfranchised nobleman from England. Well, I won’t let you destroy my family.”

Francis walked closer, and the gun in his hand became apparent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Madara, and frankly, I don’t care. I will kill you now, and this little bastard son of yours will take the blame, after dying right along with you and your freak of a boyfriend. I will have my revenge. And who will protect your little blonde slut and spawn after that? Hmmm? I think Tony probably has arrived with his friends at your compound by now.”

“Bastard,” Nathan snarled, staring down the skinny man fearlessly. “It’s you who will die today. No one threatens our wife and children. No one!”

“Enough small talk,” Francis smirked, gesturing with his gun. “I will kill you all now, and your little friend, and then I will go and see what’s so wonderful about that little blonde woman that holds unredeemable faggots like you both in such thrall. She must be one hell of a fuck.”

Everything happened at once. Stefan was drawing his gun as Francis fired, and Nathan screamed in denial, lunging forward. A bright green light flashed over their shoulders, startling the slim man, who shot again, wildly.

Stefan, knocked aside by Nathan, who grunted when he took the bullet meant for his husband, fell backwards, and found himself sprawled on the ground, the gun flying from his hand. The next shot grazed his temple, stunning him, and they were suddenly surrounded by strangely dressed people. Strangely dressed people who caught him, and drug him farther backwards.

He fought them, his eyes only seeing Nathan, laying on his side, a crimson stain growing on his flank, unmoving, his blue eyes flickering with pain. “Nathan!” he screamed, struggling wildly, but there were simply too many hands on him, and he was so damnably dizzy from the glancing shot to his brow.

Finally, the green light vanished. Stefan found himself alone, in a very strange place, and there was no sign of Nathan, or Sasuke.

He shook off his daze, and glared up, seeing both Jason and Suzanne staring at him. They were both dressed as strangely as the others. He was crushed to find they were a part of this vile conspiracy. Nathan would be devastated. God, Nathan… he was hurt.

“I see you have crossed sides, Jason,” he said in a surly tone, slowly getting to his feet. “It will kill Nathan to know you are involved. If he’s not already dead, you bastard!”

“Calm down,” Shikamaru said placidly. “They are not who you think they are, Madara.”

“To hell with you all. I will not be a party to this. Take me back, damn you all. Nathan needs me. I don’t have time for this!” Stefan fell into a crouch, looking even more like an older Sasuke. But when he lunged forward to attack, he found himself frozen in place.

Eyes rolling in shock, he saw Shikamaru, holding a strange pose, fingers poised in a very odd arrangement. He noticed that the shadow between them was long and thick, but didn’t understand what that meant.

Shikamaru smirked. “I told you to calm down. Now you will have to listen to all you obviously haven’t before. Oh, and by the way… Welcome to Konoha.”