Chronos no Justitia

Chronos no Justitia

{{A/N; Welcome. And to those the read Fiat Justitia, welcome back. The title (bear with me, eh?) is supposed to translate to Time of Justice. From three languages. Right... well, this is supposed to pick up in the winter after Fiat Justitia left off. And I know the heads up warnings are pretty odd already, this is a work in progress and those are the ones I expect to use. But for the sake of safety, I will include the warning appropriate to each chapter up here in the author's note. Like the prologue; we have mild violence and language, voyeurism (Jiriaya, hehe), and brief nudity and oral.
Enjoy at yor leisure and feel free to call me any plotholes that are too massive. CD}}

Prologue

The forest around Konoha was frozen.
Winter had come to the Village Hidden in the Leaves and the season had brought with it the weight of frost and freeze.
The afternoon sun was bright and distant, unable to even draw the lace of ice from the trees.
And for some time, the only movement was the slow trudge of a dejected sun across the sky. The air was sluggish and still, as it too were frozen this day.
And if any had been present to listen, the near deafening thrash of a heavy cloak as it fell from a tree disturbed the silence. The whumph as it hit the ground sent up a soft cloud of frost.
The material was jet black and fairly worn, the cloak had seen thousands of miles and dozens of battles. A wide bamboo shade fell next, dropping over the bright red cloud stitched onto the cloak.
The grate of steel across hair ripped through the still air, echoing off the trees.
Long bundles of coal black hair fell from the tree, scattering as the fell about the shade and cloak.
A strip of cloth fell next, a thin metal plate riveted to the headband. The plate was even more worn than the cloak, the stylized leaf still visible despite several scratches and scrapes.
And one bold strike that scored the plate clear across; the classic mark of a rogue soldier.
A hail of knives, throwing stars, random supplies and small scrolls toppled into the growing pile of belongings. Leaflets drifted down, bold patterns drawn upon them with strange runes and swirling lines.
The wind sighed as a body fell to the snow.
A man as lean as an alley cat, only a hair taller than the average man. A dark smoky blue gray bodysuit was wrapped around him, tucked into the thin boots bearing a lone plate and large buckles and bracers of similar construction, the black leather still fresh and dark.
A black bandanna was tied down over his hair and a mask hugged his jaw, caressing the bridge of his nose and swooping down to the neck of the bodysuit.
Snowgoggles covered his eyes, the mirrored finish almost obscuring the dark irises completely.
Leather pouches wrapped around his thighs like short chaps, a score of small rings betraying the presence of the kunai stored there. His belt seemed to have been constructed out of pouches and the flak vest he wore was much the same.
The only decoration he wore was a red disc on the back of his flak vest, a thin black line making a swirl through it.
He tucked the spring tensioned blades of his scissors into a pocket and withdrew a small scroll from another.
A thin cord binding the rolled parchment came away and the man cast the paper behind him as he began to walk away.
Snow began to fall as a thin streamer of smoke raised into the sky.
He was far enough away not to hear the rush of fire as the scroll burst into flame.
He never looked back at the inky black plume of smoke as the tree he’d been in was consumed.
But he moved quickly and quietly for the village below, the bright red gates and high walls calling to him in a voice he hadn’t heard in two decades…

“Focus, Teme!” A sharp cuff to the back of the head rattled the young man by the bells.
Ebony eyes glared darkly as he smoothed out inky black hair.
His skin was slightly pale and his body was naked, baring the well defined muscles and the superior tilt of his chin.
“Is it really appropriate to address me in such a way, Lady Hokage?” His voice wouldn’t have echoed for the flat tone he spoke in.
The tall blonde woman he glared at returned his gaze with equal malice, “I can understand if your heart isn’t in the task, but you can at least try!”
The young man looked down his front at the woman who knelt before him. He met dark lavender eyes with a mild frown. Her pale black hair was braided back into two pigtails and full lips painted a brilliant red pouted up at him. The flaccid penis glistened from her futile efforts to breath life, or at least lust, into his lions.
All told, she was probably in her late twenties, only a little older than himself.
“Hn.” He stepped out of her frail hold, picking up his robe and slipping it on, “I don’t have time for this.” The door slammed behind him as both women watched him leave.
The blonde helped the girl to her feet, “I’m terribly sorry, Tsuneko…”
The girl gingerly wiped her lips, “It’s not your fault, lady Tsunade.” She tied the sash tight around her slender waist, “If Lord Uchiha doesn’t feel the mood to revive his clan, there is little to be done…”
The two appeared similar in age, though the blonde woman’s pale golden eyes flared with a rage that belonged to a much older woman, “The bastard could at least humor your efforts by keeping it up.”
“Performance anxiety?”
Tsunade smirked, “Making excuses for him, are we?” she pointed to the other room, “After that?”
The girl shrugged and played with the stray ends of her sash, “I’m not the first he’s walked out on, Lady Tsunade… Perhaps if he had choice in the matter…”
The Hokage’s bark of laughter cut Tsuneko short, “We tried it his way. Four times. He never got so far as taking off his shirt save for once.”
“Ahem.” Sasuke stood in the doorway, his usual scowl cemented into place, “Lady Hokage… I take my leave. There are matters I must tend to.” And he vanished into the steamy mist.
“Really?” Tsunade called after him, “So sorry to keep you waiting! No, please. By all means, go take care of business! Should you happen to masturbate later, make sure to Bring Me The CUP!!”
Tsuneko edged toward the door. “…I should be going as well… Ms. Yamanaka wasn’t exactly fond of this appointment really…And I have the afternoon’s work to catch up on…”
Tsunade nodded, holding her brow with one hand. She shooed the younger woman, listening to her retreating footsteps.
“If I had my way…” She sat on one of the benches, “Twist two tenketsu, one glove and tie his ass down. He’d be painfully erect for hours and with one finger up his ass, his broken libido wouldn’t be much of a concern anymore… Just line them up…”
The air sighed as a jutsu was released. A older man perched in the corner had become visible. The long white hair and horned headband as much signature as the notepad and pen.
His pen, however, was unusually still.
“That’s a bit ruthless…” He frowned, tucking away the notepad.
“Can it Jiriaya…”
“Whoa… easy.” He stalled her with his tattooed palm, “Not that it isn’t one hell of an idea… but considering the reason I’m here, it’s sad that it’s the most interesting thing I’ve seen this afternoon.”
The woman sighed and pulled a small bag of coins from his waist band, “That teme is costing me big.”
Jiriaya accepted the bag, “You and me both! This place isn’t exactly cheap to rent.”
They held for a moment.
“Do we really want him at the head of the clan anyway?” Jiriaya pulled out his notepad, sketching absentmindedly. “He has pretty much become the reason his brother mucked out the rest of the clan…”
Tsunade scoffed, “Right… So why don’t you just wheel on out and invite Itachi to lunch and a screw! Offer him Tuesdays and Fridays! He may give up the birth rite, but, hey! He gets lunch!”
“You think Tsuneko’s still rubbing one out?”
The sannin wilted under his teammate’s glare.
“What? I’m just saying, she looked pretty worked up when she left…” Jiriaya returned to his sketch. ‘Pretty girl like her, rejected… all hot and bothered…”
“Enough already!” Tsunade barked, “If I was that worried, I’d get Yamanaka in here and we’d crush him and abuse his worthless hide until the whole harem was satisfied! And considering the number of fan girls that applied to revive the clan, he’d set a record!”
Jiriaya cleared his throat, “Actually… I tried…” He met Tsunade’s shocked glare evenly, “None of them wanted to be part of the project. Something about being too much like rape or the knowledge that he would kill them or some other lame excuse… That blonde girl actually told me there wasn’t enough money in Konoha to get her to screw herself…” Jiriaya grinned, then shuddered, “The ultimate in cold fish… She just… slips into another body and comes back later…”
Tsunade turned away from the toad sannin, standing. “There’s only one other living Uchiha, and he’s as likely to attack as listen to the offer.”
Jiriaya tucked the pad away again, “I suppose I’ll try to chase Itachi down then.”
“Would you please…” Tsunade sighed.
Jiriaya nodded. “I think between us, we might be able to bribe him into it… And if he wants Sasuke?”
Tsunade paused at the door, steam rolling out into the larger room beyond, “The teme is grinding on my last nerve. If Itachi doesn’t kill him soon enough, I may do it for him.”

Sasuke glared his way through the crowded street, forcing people and carts to veer out of his path.
*For Haruno to have defeated me…And if she could, then so can Itachi!* He carefully went over the fight again. The short memory still clear after all the months.
Something grazed his shoulder. He threw it aside blindly.
*But when, and how…? How did she get out of my sight? And to have used Kakashi’s stupid technique against me! But what other jutsu might she know…? What other secrets of my…*
“OI!” The voice that called out touched Sasuke like a cold nail. “You, punk!” He had frozen mid-stride and slowly turned.
In his own wake, the jonin was helping an old woman to her feet. His headband was tried to the shoulder of his vest and tucked into his long bracers. The style was out of date… standard issue when he was still a boy.
“Yes, you!” The jonin’s voice burned Sasuke in a way that he couldn’t place, “Are you going to apologize? You nearly threw this woman out of your way!”
“Hn.” Sasuke turned. *Another Kakashi trying to…*
“I was speaking to you, Uke!”
The jonin behind the face mask and goggles didn’t flinch as Sasuke ripped the windmill shuriken through the air. The blades shrieked and the other man swatted the oversized weapon away, deflecting it into the air.
Sasuke could feel the man’s eyes through the shine of the goggles.
He could feel the chakra that was so alien and frighteningly familiar as it grated against his own. And he flet it recede.
*He’s fast… he’s elite…or ex-anbu…* Sasuke glared, reached for his blade. He felt his sharingan rise. And he blinked as the flash of light from the polished headband echoed through the future sight.
The anbu was gone. Sasuke flicked his glance back and forth.
An iron fist closed over his sword hand and an elbow caught the crook of his other arm.
“That’s the problem with you Uchiha.” The jonin’s voice was still even, “You rely on a single trick so strongly…” The crowd around them winced as bones crunched.
Sasuke winced. Tried to twist. The pop of his shoulder dislocating caused the crowd to back away further.
Someone retched.
“Kick out. I dare you.” The jonin whispered, “Give me a reason to kill you, Uchiha.”
“Enough!” Sasuke looked up. Two squads of anbu stood in the street. “Release him!”
The jonin slowly relaxed his hold, keeping one hand under Sasuke’s arm, steadying him as he stumbled.
Sasuke ripped himself free, turning on the man and glaring at the reflection of himself in the goggles. “Who the hell are you?”
“Yuyu Maru.” The jonin stepped back, “Your cologne reeks.”
Sasuke could feel the tone of the man’s voice stirring his blood. Not what he had said, or how. Just that he had said something.
The he couldn’t recall the feeling only enraged him.
“There will not be a third encounter, Yuyu. Mark my words…” Sasuke turned, leaping to the rooftops and bounding away.
“Hn. All that… just because I expected him to apologize to a little old lady…” Yuyu shrugged, “Hn…”
He looked back to the gathered anbu and smiled, “Can one of you direct me to the mission office? I’ve been out of town for too long and they seem to have moved it.”