The Devil's Price

A/N: This idea struck me a few days ago and I thought that I would write it down but I'm NOT sure how it will go. It's sort of badly written and I'm sure I'll have to go back and edit this chapter a good deal but I just felt I had to get it out of my system. Reviews are well appreciated!


Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me!



The sun shone benignly through the branches of the seasoned oaks and maples that day, catching and amplifying itself upon the droplets of dew that hung lazily from the mess of ivy and wild shrubbery that clung to the trunks below. Birds chatted animatedly from the twigs, hiding from the wild rays of light behind freshly-grown leaves. It was a bright June day in the secluded town of Konoha, a small settlement hidden beneath the untamed brush of Virginia and the gurgling of the sterile muddy river that ran beside it. The people there were quiet and withdrawn, addicted to their own mishmash of antique antisociality and fizz of MTV streaming through the speakers of their dated television sets. Children, mostly odd-named and yellow-skinned, wadded through streams catching tadpoles babbling with an uncharacteristic southern drawl. It was an odd sight to behold for a Virginian county that had a higher count of cows than humans, because in Konoha, there were more Japanese children to be seen kicking rocks with their sneakers down the deserted main street than freckled American ones.

Konoha was an oddity, the result of a freak migration of Japanese-American businessmen after making their fortunes and living their lives as extravagantly as one could expect them to live during the World War II era. They were tired souls; tired of scavenging for money through the Great Depression, tired of being persecuted and discriminated against, tired of the golden western shore through which they first set foot upon America, but mostly just tired of being part of the world. So they holed themselves up somewhere far away from the burdens of their past, in the desolate and semi-barren mountains of Virginia. They were proud and intelligent and strong men, some having suffered the traumas of the War while others the fitful nightmare of the internment camps. But they were safe in Konoha, in their small patch of land overlooking the smoky-blue mountains and giggling brooks, and they tied themselves and their children to the land.

It was in such a place that Uzumaki Naruto walked, feet clad in leather sandals. He was a dynamic character, eyes a rare sparkling blue and hair a bizarre golden blonde made wild in a way that only a lack of parental guidance could. His mouth, expressive and sensual from years of laughing, pouting, and shouting, was now set on whistling a merry tune as he made his way through the weeds. The boy’s face was full of soft and friendly angles save for his jaw which was sharp and defined. He was slight and sexily androgynous with his lack of muscle, but he was strong from the way his weathered and tanned skin radiated health. Naruto was short for sixteen, or so he supposed, though he was still taller than a good number of his peers.

It was not important, however, how much taller he was than the lazy Nara who dozed in the back of the classroom during the sultry May afternoons or the plump Akimachi who snuck morsels of food into his mouth throughout the day. The only thing that was important to him was how much shorter he was than Uchiha Sasuke (and he was a good five inches shorter) who would sit very straight and stiff through instruction, gym, lunch, and being fawned over by the girls. Uchiha Sasuke was the golden standard of Konoha, the one that all the adults praised and compared the rest of the children to.

‘Oh, he’s so tall,’ they would say, and that would only be the start, ‘and handsome. Why I daresay he will be more handsome than his father when he gets older.’ It made Naruto’s stomach churn with restlessness as he bent his body to catch his own reflection in the nearest doorknob or television screen. No one ever called him handsome or tall, just stupid or ugly.

“Hey!” called a drowsy voice from across the street. Turning his head, Naruto caught sight of one of his only friends, Nara Shikamaru. “What are you doing up so early?”

Naruto stuck his tongue out at his friend and replied, “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

The brunette merely shrugged his shoulders sheepishly and turned his head up toward the skies again, tracing the tufts of clouds with his eyes. “What are you up to, Naruto?” he said wearily.

“I’m going to see if I can buy a bus ticket to Roanoke,” called back the other as he hastily looked both ways before he crossed the street. “I want to buy a camcorder so I can record myself acting.”

No one knew Naruto better than Shikamaru, and yet, even the brunette had to admit that he didn’t know the boy very well at all. He had always been too torn to get too close to the blonde, to go over to his house, to sleep over. It had always been one or the other; being a good friend to Naruto or losing all of his other friends. Shikamaru had never been one for public opinions, but he was simply too afraid or lazy, whichever it was, to go out on a limb and fully befriend Naruto. However, one thing that he did know about the blonde was that he wanted to act more than anything else. He wanted to be written up in the stars and gazed upon with eyes full of admiration and desire.

Shikamaru felt no doubt that Naruto could achieve it. Naruto had always been good with masks.

“What’s wrong with just using the mirror like you’ve always done?” asked Shikamaru in a bored tone.

“It’s different,” said Naruto as he too turned his eyes up toward the sky, “it’s different to be recorded, and, you know, it’ll be as if I were a real actor now, being able to see myself in the television. And I’ll need one sooner or later, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” sighed the brunette as he tucked his hands into his pocket. They jingled from the loose change he kept from his routine afternoon sodas. Shikamaru was a smart boy, the kind of smart that people got when they hang around with their grandfathers too long playing games of shougi and listening to old war stories. He also had many secrets up his sleeves, not earth-shattering, scandalous ones, but quirky ones that could probably serve as good party tricks. Naruto’s favorite trick was when he would stick both his hands into his pockets and count the loose change there just by feeling his way around the coins. He’d count both pockets simultaneously and then add them up in his head at the end. Today Shikamaru had two dollars and seventy-nine cents. “Just be careful,” added the boy sluggishly, “there are some dangerous people up there.”

Naruto chuckled and waved as he jogged off toward the bus station. Shikamaru simply sighed again and mumbled something about idiots as he stuffed his hands back into his pockets again, feeling over the bumpy edges of quarters and pennies, nickels and dimes. He counted the money again.

This time he counted two dollars and eighty-four cents.

Shikamaru swallowed long and hard, as his eyes traveled up the path that Naruto had disappeared on just seconds ago.

He had never made a mistake before.

Naruto cheerfully hopped of off the bus and faced the busy intersection before him with a smile. He had started visiting the city on his own since he was twelve-years-old, or, ever since he had gotten his own place to stay. The city was a symbol of his freedom and independence; freedom from the beatings and the abuse, independence from the muted whispers and glares. One day, he was going to live in a city, one on the west coast under palm trees and sunshine. For now, though, he was going to buy himself a camcorder, the first step to fulfilling his dream.

He made his way around the corner, making sure to avoid the garbage that littered the sidewalk. Roanoke was not a glamourous city with its outdated architecture and old fashioned residents. The people were all either lowly government employees or salespeople. It was a necessary city, the convenient convergence point of a dozen or so underpopulated towns in need of a place to shop. It was a bustling commercial center, but there were no rich or famous, only the poor and the working.

Squinting his eyes against the glare of the sun, Naruto made out the shape of the familiar electronics outlet. He had purchased his television and stereo there before when he had been fourteen and in dire need for something to drown out the silence of his empty house. So one day, he went to the bank and took out a bundle of cash that he had been saving for something important and spent it all on an entertainment system complete with a collection of CDs. It didn’t kill the loneliness completely, but it quieted it down a little, and, for Naruto, even a little was a lot.

However, just as the walk light was about to turn green, the lone boy felt a malicious tug on the back of his shirt, sending him flying into the cement of the alleyway. He slowly sat up, groaning loudly at the ring in his head until he was sent reeling back from another blow. They were clumsy shots, he noticed, as he struggled to his feet, uneven and wavering. Opening his eyes, he saw the figure of a very deranged-looking man before him holding the end of a medium-sized piece of plywood. His eyes were wide and hazel, looking crazed and animalistic. His attacker was breathing heavily, though the rasping of his throat sounded like the growling of a carnivorous beast.

“Gimme your moneh, boy,” shouted the man, poking Naruto’s chest with an end of the plywood. “Else I’m gonna give it ta ya quick.” He spoke with a deep southern accent in a voice that was slightly chipped around the edges.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir,” lied Naruto calmly upon seeing how shaken the other man was. “I don’t have any.”

Naruto figured that if he couldn’t even fool a jittery, drug-crazed madman, then he didn’t deserve to live to be an actor.

“You’s lyin,’” roared the man as he raised his arm to strike. The blonde anticipated the hit and lifted his arms up to shield his face from the brunt of the attack.

The blow never came.

After a few seconds of waiting, the blonde lowered his arms to find the stranger rolling on the floor, clutching his arm, and howling in pain. The piece of plywood was now splintered and uselessly broken in half. Looking up, he caught himself face to face with a familiar classmate.

“Idiot.”

Uchiha Sasuke.

“What are you doing here, dobe?” asked the brunette, waiting for the light to turn as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of his convertible. “Didn’t know a loser like you could afford to shop in the city.” He paused when he was given the green and made a left turn. “Not that this is much of a city.”

“I don’t see why that concerns you,” drawled Naruto bitterly, crossing his arms and making a point to look out the window. “I didn’t ask you to come parading in and saving me.” He was about to stop there when he caught the beginning of a smirk in the corner of his eye. “Not that I needed to be saved,” he added quickly.

“Whatever,” retorted the Uchiha as he rolled his eyes behind a pair of designer sunglasses. Out of all of the families in Konoha, the Uchiha household was by far the wealthiest. They were a family of agents, talent agents, modeling agents, publishing agents who traveled the world with their clients. With their eye for talent, they were easily one of the most respected families in America, coming to introduce some of the most important entertainers in the country. Konoha was merely a quiet getaway where they could sit down to have a sip of genuine southern lemonade and deposit their youngest son for a bit of third-class schooling.

“Where were you going,” asked Sasuke impatiently as he turned another curve, this time a little bit too quickly and tilting Naruto a bit out of his seat. The blonde squeaked at the sudden pull of motion but huffed quickly back into place.

“What does it matter? You passed it anyway,” muttered Naruto as he readjusted his seatbelt with a vindictive tug.

“Well where were you going,” ground out the brunette, obviously annoyed by the blonde’s stubbornness.

“I was going to the electronics shop across the street from where...” Naruto trailed off as he blushed in embarrassment from the incident. He hated being weak.

“Oh, that old place? It closed down a year ago,” informed the Uchiha. “What did you want to buy?”

Naruto mumbled something incoherently. Sasuke stepped on the brakes in annoyance.

“What did you say?”

“A camcorder!” shouted the blonde as he recovered from the sudden inertia. He was getting more annoyed with the boy by the second.

“What the hell did you need a camcorder for?” sniggered the brunette as he once more put the car back into motion. “Not like you have anyone worth remembering anyway.”

“That is it!” shouted Naruto as he undid his seatbelt and struggled with the locked door. “I am sick of you and your bastard attitude!”

“Open the door now and you’ll be run over by a dozen cars before you even hit the pavement,” warned Sasuke as he glared at the boy. The blonde had no other choice than to pout childishly and give his classmate the cold shoulder.

“Besides,” added the Uchiha, “we’re here.” Naruto attention shifted to his surroundings and found himself looking at a the entrance of an interestingly-shaped mall. He had never been there before since he rarely wandered away from the bus stop, fearful that he wouldn’t be able to find his way back in time for the last bus. “There’s an electronics shop inside.”

Naruto blushed when he realized that he should thank the Uchiha, but couldn’t find it inside himself to do so. It had always been like that between the two, glares and fights, but never apologies, not even when threatened with all sorts of punishments. There was a kind of deep resentment running within him toward Sasuke that he couldn’t deny, nor justify.

He heard the car door slam behind him, and found the brunette standing beside him with his keys dangling from his fingers.

“What are you doing?” he demanded as he realized that the Uchiha was going to follow him inside the mall.

“Charity work,” replied Sasuke as he continued to walk calmly across the parking lot. He noticed the confused expression on Naruto’s face and sighed. “You said you didn’t have any money right?”

“Why the hell would you help me?”

“Bored I guess,” answered the brunette with a yawn as he made his way through the automatic doors.

Naruto stopped in his tracks as he was greeted by a million lights dancing before him in colorful patterns and shapes. There was a carousel in the center of the mall, fitted between huge fountains. A small roller coaster was situated in further away from the entrance, sending screaming children through the sharp turns. Beautiful salesgirls stood before stores, handing out perfume samples or coupons or simply flirting with potential customers. All of this shocked Naruto, who had rarely been allowed to leave the town which consisted of a mere grocery store. Even his visits to the city had been glum and unglamourous, filled with rundown shops and ugly salesmen.

“You really are a country bumpkin,” admonished Sasuke as he scowled at his companion. He was already hurrying up the escalator toward the shop. “Don’t just stand there like the idiot you are, come on.”

Naruto wrinkled his nose at the brunette’s direction as he grudgingly followed him up the moving stairs. From above he saw a full view of the ritz and glamour. Surprisingly, there were very few people in the mall, only a few very well-dressed women and finely-suited men. He found no teenage girls giggling through the shops and poking at accessories or boys loitering about on the benches. It was all eerily empty save for a couple of suave-looking and well-to-do customers. Looking at Sasuke, he only then noticed the fine-fitting day suit that he was sporting, complete with jacket and tie. Suddenly he felt out of place and uncomfortable like the country bumpkin that Sasuke had previously accused him of being.

They were quickly swamped by over-friendly salespeople as soon as they entered the shop, most of them fawning over Sasuke and his sharp looks. Naruto rolled his eyes at the praise his classmate was receiving and silently slipped away to look over their selection of camcorders in peace.

“Ah, young Mr. Uchiha, is it?” asked one salesman. He was a short and stocky fellow with a patch of hair missing off of the crown of his head. “What can we help you with today?”

“I’m here with an,” Sasuke paused there, “acquaintance.” He breathed out as if a large weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. “And we’re looking for camcorders.”

“Ah, I see,” replied the salesman eagerly. “Is there a budget? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“No,” replied the brunette easily, “no budget.”

The salesman caught Naruto poking at a particular camcorder cautiously, almost as if it would bite him. Automatically turning a slight shade of green, which Sasuke found to be most amusing, the balding man quickly ran to the blonde and the merchandise and shooed him away.

“No, no, young sir,” laughed the salesman nervously, “that’s...that’s not a good choice.”

“But it’s the only one that fits my budget,” retorted Naruto angry at being chased away from the object like some sort of unwanted fly. The salesman looked at Sasuke questioningly.

“I thought you didn’t have any money, dobe,” hissed Sasuke to his classmate.

“Yeah, well that’s just so the guy by the bus station wouldn’t take it,” growled Naruto back.

“Or so he’ll go needy heroin addict going through withdrawal on you and bash your face in with a piece of plywood.”

“Fine, so I was testing myself!” shouted the blonde, startling a few of the salespeople. “I’m buying a camcorder so I can tape myself acting, and so I can make audition tapes, okay?”

Sasuke simply stood there and stared at Naruto for a long moment, his dark eyes looking up and down the other boy’s body, studying and judging. Then, he pointed to a small camcorder on the top of the shelf.

“We’ll take that one.”

“No offense, sir, but...” the salesman began.

“Put it on my card.”

The salesman, always greedy for money, quickly acted on those words and nearly pounced upon the card in the Uchiha’s outstretched hand.

“I’ll have it ready for you in just a moment, sir.”

Naruto was flabbergasted. He stood looking from the happily skipping salesman to the stoic Uchiha and back again.

“I don’t need your charity,” he said as he took a tentative step back, still confused with the situation but sure that his classmate was trying to insult him in some way or another.

“I’m not giving any to you,” replied the brunette as he grabbed hold of the blonde’s forearm and pulled him close. “I’m making a deal with you, Uzumaki.”

“I,” began Sasuke, his face so close to Naruto’s that his words seemed almost breathless from the sheer proximity of his mouth to his, “am going to make you famous, and,” at this point Naruto was trying to squirm away from the Uchiha, “I, will be acknowledged by my parents.”

He gave the blonde’s arm a hard tug.

“Sounds like a pretty good deal for you, right? And we both get what we want. You will get stardom and I will get...my parents.”

“Why are you telling me this?” demanded Naruto, uncomfortable with their positions.

“Because,” hissed Sasuke, keeping him still, “this is my only chance out of this hell hole.”

The two boys heard a cough behind them and quickly pulled away from each other.

“I have your camcorder and all you need to do is sign here,” said the mousy salesman with a greedy grin. He watched with sparkling eyes as the Uchiha signed his name with a graceful flourish of his wrist. “And thank you for your business.”

“Do we have a deal?” whispered Sasuke as he accepted the bag from the salesman.

“...Yeah,” replied Naruto.

“Good.”

With that, the blonde found himself being dragged out of the store by a forceful hand and toward a clothing shop.

“Where are you taking me?” bellowed Naruto as he tried to keep up with the brunette’s maddening pace.

“Well, you can’t be a star looking like that.”