Sun Up, Sun Down

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Notes: This is not meant to be historically correct or anything of the sort. I'd suggest you to not read this for historical accuracy, but for the sheer fun of it. This was my first time writing action scenes, which -- for some reason or the other -- I find easier to write than smut (all these years of watching sword fights on TV have paid off). This will have two to three chapters. Not more. Bet'd by the lovely Calamus.

...

The bright, flickering torch illuminated the quaint and mannerly looking establishment very much to its advantage, emphasising its elegance and abundance of affluence: it was, after all, one of the best brothels this side of town. Not at all like one of those common shady ones, where drunken men staggered out, leaning against one another and roaring one folk song after the other. There wouldn't be any ugly hags smelling like fish in there either, but proper-looking women – women who washed themselves on a regular basis.

Naruto looked longingly at the building, knowing that it would present him with immediate relief from the pains he had undergone lately. He had nearly been run over by a horse cart, some asshole had wanted to pick up a fight with him and he had been forced to waste his precious sword on aforementioned brat. No, Naruto didn't mind fighting, but the man had been below par. He'd fought like a drunken money and the few minutes Naruto had spent avoiding his clumsy attempts at striking him had been quite a waste of his precious time. He'd been very frustrated.

Anyhow, to return to the present, this beautiful building would make him quite happy – very, very happy indeed. Of course, Naruto didn't care a whit about the building's noteworthy architecture; he wasn't a connoisseur of the arts, but a very simple-minded man (who solely wanted to get laid).

A well-meaning person – the sort who spends all his time in the pubs and wastes his money on women, while his children starve to death – had told him that this place had the best ladies, the sort who knew how to give a good head. Naturally, Naruto, like any wandering up-to-no-good scoundrel, hadn't wasted a minute on asking the older guy for directions and, his feet carrying him quickly, ended up right here. He'd been standing here for a few minutes, waiting and lingering for his chance to get lucky.

Breathing heavily and rubbing his hands like an enthusiastic kid, he was starting to lose patience. Hell, he needed the service, needed to rid himself of tension; he was dying from all the stress overload.

Those bitches there give a bleedin' good head job. That's what the man told me. I hope he's right.

Naruto hadn't been given that kind of service for ages and he felt that it was time to catch up on that. He had spent too much time running away from the police again, but now that his pursuers were all dead and rotting away in some ditch, he had all the time in the world to do what he wanted to do most – until he got into trouble again, of course.

However, Naruto was quite out of cash. His pockets didn't clink with the sound of coins, but were – well, the very reverse of full. He was as poor as could be; however, he didn't care. That problem could be quickly solved; he would just have to wait for the opportunity to arise. As said above, he needed to get lucky.

Meanwhile, he was content enough to scratch against the slight stubble on his chin and lick his lips. He would have fun tonight: life was supposed to be made up of fun and games. Games and fun; anything else was a bother.

Naruto wasn't the type of man who wasted his time on serious, philosophical issues. He wasn't hell-bent on searching for the meaning of life or anything of that sort. He lived for the moment and, right now, he only wanted one thing: to milk the cash he needed out of some unsuspecting victim. It wasn't fair that others got to have fun when he didn't.

The sound of laughter – hoarse and brutish – captured his attention; one rather bulky and middle-aged man had come out of the brothel. The signs of intoxication were more than evident: from his red nose to the zigzagging manner of the idiot's walking, it was obvious that the bloke was more than over the moon – over the moon from the highly pleasant taste of sweet sake. He had definitely been shown a good time. Now it was Naruto's turn. Hell, it was only fair. Besides, if the man's rich and fine clothing were anything to go by, it was likely that the git had some coins to spare.

He shouldn't be the only one to have a jolly time, Naruto thought impishly, grinning when he thought of the amusement he'd receive soon.

The man started to sing again, his voice horrendous but oddly charming –he sang of love, the moon and glittering diamonds.

What a wuss.

"Oh, I'll have some fun with that guy," Naruto said to himself, already reaching for the sword which he carried about with him on his back. He wouldn't kill that man: the coward would surrender before he even made as much as a move. Men like these were always like that – all bark, but no bite.

Naruto squared his shoulders and waited patiently, even though his insides were itching to get over with it already. Yet, once the fool had passed by the lights of the brothel, coming closer to the dark, shanty corner Naruto was standing in, his time had come. They were surrounded by darkness now, the narrow street wasn't bustling with activity and Naruto, swift as a mercenary cat, had the man cornered; escape was futile now.

Showtime, he thought and pressed the metallic blade of the sword against the man's throat.

"Who are you?" the poor soul asked, his voice squeaking like he'd been caught stealing candy.

"No need to know my name, man. Just give me what you've got," Naruto growled, knowing that he sounded intimidating.

"What-?" the man asked confused. He was trembling all over, like one of those old alarm clocks that had been turned on and were very hard to shut up again.

The darkness of the street, the disconcerting image of the starless night made Naruto feel peevish all of a sudden: he didn't like standing too long in the dark. Besides, this guy was an idiot.

"Your money, man. Come on. Or I'll make you better acquainted with this lovely blade here," Naruto answered viciously, pressing the aforementioned blade deeper against the man's throat. If the jerk didn't hand over the money immediately, he'd really slit his throat and just search the fool's pockets himself. Really.

"Please... Please don't kill me. I've got a wife and child. I'-" the man begged, his voice rising to a scream. He was probably crying and peeing in his pants. Naruto felt nauseous: he hated weakness more than anything.

"Interesting. If you're so devoted to them, how come you're here?" Naruto demanded curiously, scratching his head. Honestly, he couldn't understand the point of settling down, if a man couldn't remain loyal to his family.

"Here. Take it. But spare me-"

Naruto let the lamenting man go with an abruptness that made the other gasp out in shock. He let the coins jiggle in his hand and watched amusedly how the man trembled like a leaf; he was still too shocked to move. Naruto decided to have a last bit of fun with him.

"Hey, get movin' or I won't spare you. Your face annoys me."

Interestingly, human nature is quick and surprisingly perceptive when it comes to conflicts; humans can adapt themselves easily to new situations and know better than any other animal what to do in order to survive.

Such was also the case of this man. No sooner did he realise he was truly free, the man, not paying heed to anything, bolted off, running quicker than he had in the last ten years. Frantically, nearly maddeningly, he swore to himself that he would never spend a farthing at the brothel's, but be the good and virtuous husband that he had always wanted to be. Whether his resolutions came to be true, is not in my power to determine, I can only say that it was a life-altering experience for the poor, decrepit person. He would never take anything for granted anymore.

As for Naruto, he smirked and put his sword back into the sheath, deeming that he'd done well. Now, it was time for pay-up.

Naruto happily let the coins in his hand rustle again, creating a clinking noise. Oh, he was a rich man now and could do what he pleased. He approached the building which he had been observing so wistfully before, with a self-confident, satisfied manner. He'd show them who was boss. Indeed, he would.

The guard, who was leaning against the door, noted his appearance and arrogantly, with eyebrows raised and his lips pursed into a grim smile, rudely asked:

"What the hell do you want, boy? This isn't an almshouse. Shove off."

Naruto scowled. He wasn't a fucking boy anymore, having turned nineteen three months ago. He didn't respond, but pulled out the gold coin and flashed it before the elder man's face. His eyes widened considerably at the sight. Indeed, money does make the world go round. Although this was rather suspicious, considering that Naruto was filthy-looking, the guard didn't hesitate. It wasn't in his job description to question the happenings of life. Besides, he was tired and in no mood to confront issues. So, he simply said:

"Oh well, if it's the case, come in."

To say that the brothel was damned gorgeous would have been a lie: it was bewildering, amazing and other bunch of adjectives, associated with splendour and mind-numbing beauty. Naruto had never been to such an area before and was oddly out of place in it, although he wasn't aware of it himself. In contrast to that, however, the other folks in the room were.

On the one hand, you had the rich aroma of Indian match sticks filling up the room, sinfully beautiful damask-covered the floor and there was something intricately decadent about the whole establishment. You felt like a sultan, an emperor wrapped up in the ever comforting shade of never-ending, infinite luxury. Still, it wasn't the pompous, baroque-like type of luxury, but simple, down-to-earth; the owner, though evidently fond of the Middle East as it seemed, had maintained some of the traditional and simple elegance of Japanese furniture. There were futons and sliding doors, and the simple lantern illuminating the room conveyed a traditional feel

Naruto, on the other hand, was the very contrast of splendour. He had two whisker like scars on his face, his orange shirt was tattered and torn in places, the huge sword slung over his shoulder looked ominous and his trousers had holes in them. His hair – blond, thick and messy – looked like a withered mop. Indeed, in contrast to this place, Naruto was like a fish out of water, but he didn't feel so. As I said before, he was a simple-minded, hedonistic sort of man.

He was led by some exaggeratedly powdered and overly polite lady into a large hall, filled with women sitting demurely on the floor. Had he been a philosophical or moral man, this would have been disgusting to him – to see women exposing themselves in such a disgraceful manner. They looked like sardines in a supermarket, waiting for someone to grab hold of them. However, Naruto didn't care. He'd come here for the pleasure, not to moralise.

"Am I just supposed to pick one? Do they all cost the same?" Naruto asked curiously, his crotch twitching at the thought of finally getting some action again.

"The price varies, sir," the woman replied carefully, indicating that he shouldn't pick too hastily. She wasn't really sure what the ragged, rather dirty-looking young man was doing in their noble establishment: she'd have a good talk with her husband – ironically the owner of the brothel – later on. Thieves and riffraff like this shouldn't tarnish their good name. Of course, the young man didn't pay heed to her warning.

Naruto rolled his eyes and surveyed the women rather greedily, his gaze resting on each of the dames for a minute; he would take his time.

The women were gorgeous, of course – more than gorgeous. They were stunning and Naruto's hot-blooded nature couldn't avoid drooling like a kid in front of a candy store; the elder, graceful lady by his side was quite mortified, which was not odd. She was the supervisor of a brothel, after all. But she didn't like Naruto's crudeness.

Naruto was just about to pick some buxom red-head when his eyes were attracted by someone whom he hadn't noticed before: somehow that individual had totally escaped his notice.

Holy fuck, Naruto thought.

The colourful cursing was warranted; the woman was more than gorgeous. The powdered white face did nothing but highlight the person's natural paleness and beauty. She was kind of flat-chested, which was revealed by the tightness of her yukata, but this didn't matter at all. Naruto had never seen such a face before: the sinfully black eyes, the aristocratic features rendered the woman more attractive than he'd imagined it possible. From her fine, high cheekbones to the chiselled nose, she was perfect. And the ruby red mouth, small as it seemed, would look perfect around his...

Naruto's questionable chain of thoughts was interrupted by the lady of the house remarking:

"That's Sachiko... she's expensive and..."

"I'll take her," Naruto said firmly, eyeing the perfect creature with undisguised lust. He liked the look of disgust on her face. She looked like a vixen, a vixen with a temper. That was good: Naruto liked his women strong.

"Sir-"

"For fuck's sake, I'll take her," Naruto retorted angrily and his fists clenched: his patience and goodwill had ended. What the hell was it with that old wench? He'd paid, hadn't he? And he wasn't the sort who took no for an answer.

Ever.

Sachiko was irritated beyond belief. She thought that making herself as small and undesirable as possible would keep annoying customers out of her reach, but it hadn't worked. Some sort of pervert would still order her, just like now. Oh well, she'd have to deal with it. Sadly, she didn't know that she was dealing with Naruto, of all people.

They were in one of the brothel's rooms and Sachiko lay on one of the futons, waiting for her client to undress. She had wanted to pour some sweet-tasting sake into his cup, but he'd declined, claiming that the small talk had started to grate on his nerves. Strangely, Sachiko had never uttered a single word and it unnerved her; this man could get dangerous.

This is a bad, bad predicament. I'll have to do something. I can't let that bastard get too close. Shit.

Sachiko was nervously tapping her fingers against the wooden floor, thinking of a way to get out of this mess. Meanwhile, Naruto had gotten out of his smelly, helplessly tattered shirt and tossed it on the floor. He was only dressed in loose-fitting slacks, which he hoped to dispense off quickly. He approached the woman carelessly and once he was leaning over her, started to whistle. She was really something.

"You're hot. Come on, get goin'. I don't want to waste the night," he ordered impatiently, stooping down to take in the breath of the young woman. She smelled gorgeous.

Sachiko had no intention of doing anything, least of all "get goin'"; however, before, she could voice any protests, Naruto kissed her fiercely, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth. He'd never been one for foreplay and was very much eager to slide his calloused hand under the woman's yukata; he wasn't going to prolong this anymore. He needed some sort of release. He didn't even mind that woman wasn't kissing him back. He'd make her moan out in pleasure soon enough; he wouldn't allow his ego to suffer under the supposition of being lousy in bed.

Sadly, Naruto never got around to doing precisely that because there was loud crash and dull thud when his unconscious body hit the floor; the broken bits and pieces of the pot were scattered all over the floor and Sachiko sighed, rising from the futon. Her life was really a series of idiotic events, she thought.

"Fuck, this was close," Sachicko commented dryly and – this has to be said – her voice was anything but femininely sweet. Indeed, she had a suspiciously low and male-sounding voice and, upon further inspection, was also fairly taller than the average woman. In fact, she was quite tall and, apart from her facial features, there was nothing soft about her; even her face looked oddly male at the moment. There was nothing graceful or womanly in her determined, fierce and cool expression: she was gritting her teeth and impatiently scanned the room for something.

No, this wasn't strange at all. Sachiko, you see, wasn't a woman, but a man, who for some reason or the other, was working at a brothel. Sachiko, of course, wasn't his name: it was Sasuke and he wasn't pleased.

Sasuke wasn't pleased at all; he had escaped being nearly sexually molested by some perverted freak and now had to find a way to get out of here. The only option he had seemed to be the balcony; he'd tie a rope around the edge of its iron railing and then make haste. In spite of that, this was rather troublesome: he'd been so close and he couldn't help giving vent to his frustrations. Sasuke had always been something of a drama queen.

"This wasn't part of my plan at all. Had he only drunk the damned sake; it'd have put him to sleep, like the other jackasses," he muttered to himself, knowing that the other man in room was knocked out cold.

However, Sasuke didn't waste time pondering over the matter for too long, but let the silky material of the yukata fall down his shoulders. He wasn't naked underneath it, but wore a skin coloured shirt and tight black pants with a pouch-like belt framed around his narrow hips.

He let his middle-length hair out of the bun he'd been wearing and tied it into a ponytail. While he did so, Sasuke swore that he would get it cut as soon as he accomplished his mission. Long hair was a pain in the butt and not worth the fuss; he was contemplating all this with perfect coolness and, taking a rope from the pouch he carried, tied it to the assigned place. He'd escape this hellish, nightmarish situation soon enough.

All of sudden, the sound of someone talking – a rough voice – made him freeze on the spot. The man, the total moron he thought he'd got rid of was standing straight and looking amusedly in his direction.

"So, you're a guy. Interesting. Very, very interesting. I want my money back," he remarked contemptuously. Naruto didn't like being tricked and this was annoying.

"What – you're awake?" Sasuke nearly sputtered dumbly, but he concealed his shock well. It would have been very unbecoming of him to show any sign of weakness to a stranger.

Still, Sasuke was confused: the hit should have been strong enough to make that asshole sleep peacefully for quite a while. Instead, he was standing in front of Sasuke rather proudly, only occasionally rubbing his aching head.

"Hell yeah. I wish I were dreaming. I just stuck my tongue down a friggin' man's throat. Fuck, should have known you were a fraud. You were a bit too flat-chested for my tastes," Naruto ranted, sticking out his tongue and making references to vomiting. Sasuke's ego wasn't pleased and his already stern features become even sterner.

"Look, whoever you are, just ... forget this happened. And leave me alone," Sasuke said carefully, not wanting to spend a minute longer in this room. He didn't have time – he had to get out of here quick and this man was wasting his precious time. Dawn was already approaching.

"Fuck no."

Before he could react, Sasuke had been slammed against the wall and two strong hands had grasped him around the neck; the guy was strong, but Sasuke wasn't afraid. He'd dealt with worse: he wasn't made out of porcelain. With a speed that was nearly inhumane, he kicked the man in the shins and, pulling out the dagger from his little bag, got ready to strike. He'd kill, if it was necessary: his plans had been thwarted and escape was his objective. He'd do anything to get out of here, damnit.

Naruto, having recovered from the kick, looked up and smiled: he hadn't been entertained like this for ages. This was far, far better than a head job – much more stimulating.

"Why, this is getting even more interesting," he replied, tracing the blood that was spilling down his mouth with his finger and then licking it off. Sasuke could only stare at him, horrified.

"I'll kick your ass so hard you'll cry. Then I'll dance on top of your corpse," Naruto said again, flashing a self-satisfied grin towards Sasuke, who had moved away from the wall.

He didn't wait for Sasuke's reply, but lunged forwards again and, having pulled his sword out, was ready to cut through flesh and bone. He'd teach the guy a lesson.

Sasuke wasn't that easily defeated though and skilfully evaded Naruto's attack; he, then, tried to strike Naruto, but the other was equally good at ducking. They continued like this for a while: skilfully evading and then lunging forth again, dancing around each other like two buzzing insects. Naruto's kicks and attacks were hard, unpredictable and bustling with energy, but Sasuke could hold his own. He was fast, not faster than lighting, but fast enough.

He tried to kick Naruto in the stomach, but the other avoided the attack and, suddenly jumping into mid-air, aimed the sword at his head. Sasuke eyes widened; he avoided the hit and, grabbing hold of one of Naruto's ankles, sent him flying against the wall. There was a horrendous sound of something breaking and white plaster fell to the ground.

Sasuke swore and skidded backwards, his sandals created a screeching sound against the floor. He had realised that this wasn't your average Joe. No, this guy – whatever his name was – was fairly strong, stronger than the average scum the brothel threw in his path.

He felt like slapping himself against the head: he didn't have anything but a few shuriken hidden away in his pouch. Judging from how fast the other man was, it wouldn't be of much use to throw any at him. The dagger was pretty useless as well. Sasuke had to escape at once.

He'd only waste time if he didn't and every second counted. Unless Sasuke was stupid, he couldn't remain here. At least twenty minutes had passed since his little fight and soon, the owners of the brothel would come a-knocking at the door; he couldn't change into the disgusting yukata anymore. He didn't want to. In spite of having worked here only a month, Sasuke was already fed up with it.

"So what, you're gonna stand there?" Naruto asked, his chest heaving and body ready for action. He didn't believe in waiting, but this opponent was worth it. It had been a while since he had fought with someone who kept him on his toes.

"Look, as much as I hate to say it, why don't we just stop?" Sasuke asked, slowly moving towards the balcony. The man was tired now and wasn't observing his movements – which was good.

"Stop? We were barely getting started," Naruto complained, his voice gaining a childlike, boyish quality. For the first time, Sasuke looked at him – really looked at him; he was surprised at how messy the man looked, but there was something raw, energetic about his person that attracted Sasuke. He nearly felt sorry that he couldn't continue his fight.

"I don't have time for this. You've – forget it," Sasuke said and, without further ado, climbed down the balcony, holding on tightly to the rope. He hoped that the other man wouldn't follow him instantly: he really didn't want to shed blood, especially innocent one. However, his instincts told him that it wouldn't happen. After all, Sasuke Uchiha was used to not having Fortuna on his side.