A/N: Well, this is my first published fanfic; I hope everyone finds it enjoyable! It's a three part story, the sections may vary in length; the next part will be out in a few days. This was intended to be gen, heavy on the bromance, but can be read as preslash if you prefer. I tried to write all character's reactions to things as IC as possible considering the situations, but some OOCness may be present nevertheless. Also, there will be no interaction between Sasuke and Itachi, unfortunately.

There might be some continuity errors, but in this fic, the following is important:

- Sasuke is still with Orochimaru, hasn't formed Hebi yet, and has fought Naruto before this point in time after the Valley of the End battle.

- Shukaku has already been extracted from Gaara.

- Itachi's behaviour might be a little strange, but I'm assuming that wise and intelligent as he is, his heart is not made of stone, so the killing of his entire clan probably made him at least a little bit unhinged.

Warnings: Some blood and gore. Cheesiness abounds.

Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. I'm only borrowing and torturing them a little.

Itachi's Dubious Plan

By PandoraVII

Naruto had no idea how he ended up on the forest floor. All he knew was that a moment ago, he'd been that close to shoving his Rasengan into Itachi's face; then there was a red hot flash of pain that made his vision white out, and the rest of the world disappeared for a moment that felt to Naruto like an eternity.

Now, as his awareness returned, he felt damp, winter-sun warmed earth beneath him, along with the prickle of dried leaf stems and a twig or two pricking various areas of his skin through his clothes. That and the sharp stone digging into his shoulder was the least of his concern, though.

What really caught his attention was his chest feeling like it was being split open from whatever Itachi had done.

His sight was the last thing to come back to him, and he found himself staring up at the canopy of trees above him. The sun winked weakly though the gently moving leaves. From his peaceful point of view, none of the battle that had previously occurred could be suspected, but Naruto knew that more than a few trees were levelled in their clash. He felt bad about the trees, but they would be replaced soon enough.

Secretly, Naruto would've been more disappointed if he hadn't managed to level a few with all the power he'd been putting into it.

Movement in is peripheral vision alerted Naruto to Itachi's approach. Naruto didn't know where he had disappeared to, and could only assume that whatever Itachi had done had thrown his body a fair distance for Itachi to have to walk to him. The red-eyed Akatsuki member made no effort to hide his presence as he came closer, leaves crunching here and there under his sandals. Naruto tried to lift himself off the ground, to leap into a fighting stance in a blur of movement, but found that his muscles refused to listen to his commands.

Naruto tried moving anything at all, his breathing becoming faster, but none of his limbs cooperated. Did that Uchiha asshole break his spine? No, quite obviously he could still feel his limbs, and the pain in his chest indicated that the injury originated there.

This is it, he thought, I'm finished. He's going to rip Kyuubi from me and use it for Akatsuki's evil plans…everyone I know will die, and it'll be my fault.

His eyes—which thankfully still moved—turned towards Itachi as he crouched beside him, glaring up at him with ferocious anger because there was nothing else he could do. Yet beneath the glare, his blood was freezing in his veins as the faces of those he cared for flashed in his mind, along with images his mind conjured of how they would die; Sakura, Kakashi, Tsunade…Sas—everyone.

Itachi stared down at him, his eyes devoid of emotion.

Naruto glared back.

The pain in his chest was steadily increasing, spiking into new levels of agony with every beat of his heart, and Naruto knew that even if he could, he wouldn't have been able to move, save to dig his fingers into the ground below him, curl into a foetal position and grind his teeth until his jaw hurt. His breath was mutating into shallow, pained bursts, which didn't help the fire ripping through his chest—or his attempt to look indomitable in front of Itachi—at all.

Then Itachi's crimson eyes moved towards his chest, and Naruto found his own drawn in the same direction for the first time. His breath caught in shock.

Directly in the centre of his chest, so close to his heart that he had to wonder how it had missed, a knife's hilt protruded, along with about an inch of blade. Naruto could only guess from the size of the blade that it must've been seven or eight inches in length. It was made of a strange, black crystal which Naruto had never seen before.

The thick, cloying smell of his own hot blood drenching his jacket suddenly seemed to push itself into his awareness, and nausea swept though him. By now his face felt clammy and cold, and he knew it would be bone white if he were to look in a mirror. Kyuubi had thus far made no attempt to heal what damage it could, and on top of that, he wouldn't be able to get the knife out if he was unable to move. Naruto wondered how he wasn't already unconscious; from pain or blood loss.

"Naruto."

Naruto's eyes snapped back towards Itachi, his expression screaming what have you done! He tried to open his mouth and scream those thoughts out loud, but his lips only parted pathetically and a dry puff of air escaped his throat. He tried to swallow and found he couldn't even do that.

Is this how they do it? Tear it out of you and you can't even scream—not that I would give him the pleasure—or grit your teeth? I can understand why Gaara said it was the worst thing he had ever experienced.

"Naruto, I'm sorry."

That threw Naruto for a loop. What was he apologising for? If it was for the fact that he was about to kill Naruto and take Kyuubi, was he expecting Naruto to hug him and tell him everything was all right?

"I never planned for this to happen, and if there was any other way, I'd have taken it. It's the only…" Naruto started to zone out as Itachi continued talking. Was he actually supposed to believe that Itachi, the murderer of the entire Uchiha clan, save his brother, felt remorse over the killing of a stranger?

Itachi's voice was quiet. Naruto squished down thoughts of how it reminded him of another black haired boy, who was only marginally more pleasant than Itachi, but whom Naruto liked much more.

"…missed your heart and lungs, but it is still quite dangerous…" Naruto caught through his musing.

Yes, I know, keep the jinchuriki alive at least until you can get what you want from it, then leave it to die. The extraction is fatal after all, Naruto thought. He was puzzled by Kyuubi's silence in his head thus far; he would've thought it'd be frantically telling him how to escape the situation. Enslavement with death at the end isn't fun, even if it rids you of your annoying vessel.

"…I can only…"

A surge of hate towards the Uchiha filled him as he droned on; he was drawing this out deliberately, savouring his victory and leaving Naruto enough time to envision a future with Kyuubi in the hands of Akatsuki ten thousand different ways.

"…Sasuke will wake up and realise what he's doing with his life."

What?

Naruto's entire train of thought was derailed when he heard the name. What did he have to do with this? And what was this about waking up?

"The saying is true after all; you don't realise what you've got until it's gone, do you? He just needs a reminder. And from what I've gathered, you're the one he holds closest to his heart," Itachi finished saying, a bizarre approximation of a smile twitching on his lips. It scared Naruto more than a little.

Was this all some 'let's-destroy-even-more-people-Sasuke-knows-to-torture-him' thing, with the Kyuubi thrown in as a bonus? If so, it wouldn't work, Naruto thought with bitter amusement. Sasuke had long ago made it perfectly clear that he didn't give a damn about Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi anymore, and killing one of them would probably only warrant the passing thought that he was sorry he wasn't there to do it himself.

Naruto ruthlessly snuffed out the tiny voice in his head that reminded him of how he hadn't been killed at the Valley of the End after all, when Sas—Uchiha-teme had the chance to do it.

He hadn't given up on finding him and bringing him back, though; he'd made a promise. But it seemed he would never be able to keep it, now.

Itachi sighed, a gesture that somehow seemed uncharacteristic of him. "I just hope he makes the right choice. If he does and takes you back, likely someone will notice you're alive sooner or later. The alternative is just a risk that has to be taken."

Naruto's thoughts clouded with confusion. What on earth was the man talking about? He was going to live? And why would someone not notice Naruto was alive?

He actually sounded like he cared about the little brother he had tortured and left alone. Naruto couldn't make heads or tails of it. He ruefully reflected that maybe he should have been listening earlier.

Itachi gave Naruto a searching, penetrating stare. "If it doesn't work, I can only say that I'm sorry, but then it'll be better if everyone thinks the Kyuubi died along with its vessel. I'll come along and ensure it really does happen, then, so you won't have to be stuck like that for eternity."

Stuck like what?

Itachi's expression darkened. "And then I'll have to take care of my brother. With you apparently gone, any seed of doubt in his mind would be destroyed."

Naruto gave up on trying to understand the older man; now he was hinting that if 'something'—which Naruto assumed was some grand scheme of his—didn't work, he'd come along and kill Naruto anyway, and Sasuke as well.

If he didn't think it was impossible, he would've thought Itachi was staging some twisted sort of intervention.

Itachi's patterned robe rustled as the reached over Naruto for the hilt of the knife. Naruto held his breath, unsure what the man was planning, although he had earlier implied that he wasn't going to kill Naruto.

He gently closed his hand around the hilt, but Naruto still felt another spike of pain lance though him when it moved the tiniest bit. He wanted desperately to bite down on his lip, but he couldn't, and yet again frustration and panic welled up in him. For a ninja, a person who relied on not only mental, but also physical power to survive and defend against attack, as it would for anyone really, being incapacitated to the point of paralysis was horrific.

"I'm going to put some more chakra into the knife now," Itachi said. "I only gave it enough before to incapacitate you. Don't be frightened if it feels like you're not breathing or have no heartbeat—" Itachi chuckled humourlessly, "I should just say if it feels like you're dying, eh? You'll still be alive. I'm putting the Kyuubi under as well."

Naruto felt a hand squeeze his shoulder, and imagined what it would be like to break the arm it was attached to. 'Don't be frightened', Yeah, it's no biggie, I get my chest dissected by a psychopath on a daily basis.

"It really was the only thing I could think of. I hope this can bring Sasuke back from the edge…it's the only thing, I think, that can." Itachi said.

Naruto didn't have time to ponder what he meant; the moment Itachi channelled his chakra into the blade Naruto felt something happen.

Or rather, several somethings.

A burning sensation seeped throughout his body from the knife. He started feeling even heavier—which hadn't seemed possible—and his blinking slowed down until it stopped. His eyes lost focus and remained fixed on the forest canopy, where his gaze had turned as he tried to ignore the pain. Naruto felt his breath starting to drag in and out slower and slower, and the racing of his heartbeat died with it.

His panic rose like a wave in his stomach, but he forced it down, repeating the mantra I'llbeokayI'llbeokayI'llbeokay in his head. Whether he believed it was another matter entirely.

When Itachi finally stopped, Naruto couldn't feel himself breathing at all, nor could he discern a heartbeat in his chest. His chakra—and the Kyuubi's—felt completely drained, unresponsive, and did not seem to be recovering at all.

It felt like that of a dead Shinobi would.

Naruto didn't even feel the Kyuubi anywhere. The burning feeling had faded, leaving behind the raw pain of the knife wound by itself.

Naruto could deduce that, to all appearances and purposes, he looked quite dead. It weirded him out more than anything he had ever experienced, the sensation of not breathing—not perceptibly anyway—and feeling no discomfort from it.

"There." Itachi leaned over him, and Naruto was able to more or less make out the concentrated expression on his face through his unfocused gaze. He felt two fingers on his carotid. They lingered there, searching for any signs of life. "I don't know if you can still hear me, Naruto, but I have to go now."

Anxiety washed through Naruto's veins. As much as he disliked the man, he was the only protection he had at the time, and now he was going to be left on his own, unable to move, and unsure whether the condition was indefinite; Itachi had said something about being 'stuck like that'.

He removed his fingers from Naruto's neck. "Don't worry about enemies; the only people coming by here will be Sasuke, in a few hours' time. I took care of it."

Wait, what?

Sasuke was coming by?

Naruto felt like there would be steam—no, lava—coming out of his ears if his anger had a physical manifestation. And now he was even unable to glare the source of his ire to death, with his eyes fixed and staring at a point above the man's shoulder.

Sasuke, the legendary arrogant, self centred teme, was going to come close to the area of forest where Naruto laid helpless, beaten…weak, as he would say.

Naruto wished the earth would swallow him whole. He should probably have expected that Sasuke would become involved sometime, if this was about him, but not like this.

But maybe, just maybe, the teme would be able to help him out of this situation.

Itachi's Akatsuki cloak rustled again as he shifted downwards. "I have to take it out. If this gets into the wrong hands, it could be very dangerous," he said, his hand once again closing around the hilt of the crystal knife. "I hope you're not awake, but if so, I apologise."

He pulled.

Naruto tried to flinch away, his instincts screaming at him to move, but his body didn't even twitch. The knife slid out with a wet, solid sound, and Naruto's thoughts were obliterated by a pure, concentrated surge of pain that spread from the wound like the shockwave of a bomb and made his ears ring.

He didn't even notice the hand passing over his face until he felt fingers brushing his eyelids closed, pulling a black curtain over his vision.

No nonono no! Panic welled up in Naruto at having his sight taken away.

"Goodbye, Naruto Uzumaki. I sincerely hope this isn't the last thing Sasuke needs to break his ties with humanity, but the opposite instead. May we meet again."

No thanks weasel. If I could only get my hands around your neck…

Naruto felt the wind from Itachi's billowing cloak on his face, and then the sound of rapidly fading footsteps reached his ears.

He suddenly felt more alone than he ever had in his life.

He almost hoped for the red eyed weasel to grace him with his noxious presence again.

As he fumed, Naruto became aware of a wet feeling on his chest, and a trickle of salty, metallic tasting liquid from the corner of his mouth. He must've started bleeding more when Itachi removed the knife, and he could only hope he wouldn't bleed to death. Ha, if he could even be considered alive.

Unable to do anything, Naruto lay where he was, thinking of all the colourful ways he could describe Itachi and resolutely trying to not go insane because of the utterly helpless condition he was stuck in.

The stone digging into his shoulder was starting to feel more like a kunai after the sun moved halfway across the sky, from what he could gather out of the shifting shadows on his eyelids and the heat on his body; and his chest throbbed.

His fingers and toes became cold.

The heat loss slowly spread inward, across his arms and legs, and finally settled in his torso. His body didn't shiver for even one second, though it felt like a block of ice. The fact that the dappled morning sunlight which had warmed the earth was now behind a thick tree didn't help.

Where was Sasuke?

Something scuttled over an exposed bit of leg between his pants and his sandals; where his pants had lifted when he fell. Naruto had a panic filled moment where he fervently hoped it wasn't anything that could sting or bite. Thankfully nothing bit or stung him, and it crawled off again, rustling minutely under the leaves. After a while its sounds completely faded, but Naruto's sharp hearing still picked up the small noises of animals foraging around. Luckily none of them approached him.

Having had enough time to contemplate everything Itachi had said—everything he caught, in any case—and trying to distract himself from the mental images of what someone unfriendly happening upon him would do, he had come to the conclusion that Itachi wasn't who everybody thought he was. He seemed to think that what he had done to Naruto would somehow send Sasuke on a different path.

What path that was Naruto didn't know.

The only thing Naruto could think of was that it would remove the last person truly trying to redeem him. But that didn't explain what he'd said about Sasuke not realising what he had till it was gone…or Itachi not wanting him to 'break his ties with humanity'.

This could all be some sick game of Itachi's too, to torture Naruto, or his brother.

His thoughts kept turning in that same cycle, possibilities for what Itachi had meant popping up in his mind, but he refused to acknowledge them. The same way he refused to feed the tiny ember of hope that still glowed deep down inside him for the friend he considered a brother, or to acknowledge the spark of joy he felt at the prospect of seeing him again. The fear of how much he had changed since the last time Naruto had seen him far outweighed it.

Naruto was starting to feel like jumping out of his skin, only naturally he couldn't. Thinking about Itachi only occupied him for a while before all the possible scenarios were considered dozens of times. Reciting all his ninjustsu techniques and their respective processes in his head only kept him busy until the sun was starting to head west. He guessed that it was two, maybe three in the afternoon, and Itachi had left him there early; no later than ten in the morning.

Sasuke wasn't coming.

He wanted to scratch his cheek, where a fly had alighted and made it itch maddeningly before buzzing off again. Naruto tried to relax his mind, in hopes that he could fall asleep, but lying helpless in foreign woods were not conducive to sleeping; he found himself pricking his ears mentally very time he heard a new sound, panic sparking briefly within him until the noise was identified as an animal, or some other innocuous thing. Nor was he every comfortable; cold, in pain, with sharp things jabbing into his back and the ooze of blood turning sticky on his chest.

Naruto wondered if he could sleep, seeing as whatever the knife had done prevented him from falling unconscious even with a big hole in his chest.

The sun started peeking out from behind the tree which had thrown him in shade, washing the inside of his eyelids in scarlet light.

He was pondering the horrors of not being able to sleep when his fox-like hearing picked up a new sound.

It was a muffled thudding sound, solidifying into the sound of someone purposefully walking as it came closer. The sounds came from somewhere to his right; west.

If Naruto's heart was beating normally, it would be thudding heavily in his ears, to the rhythm of those footsteps.

Unlike Itachi, this person was being cautious, but not overly so; they weren't crunching over leaves and twigs, but neither were they walking so lightly that the settling of their weight with each step did not register any sound. As if they did not expect to encounter anyone but were being careful out of habit.

Naruto didn't know how, but he recognised that particular tread.

Sasuke-teme was walking in his general direction.

A swirl of mixed emotions so strong they made his head spin assailed him.

First he felt a surge of relief so intense he would have gotten teary eyes if he could. Finally, someone who hadn't put him in this condition in the first place was coming. He could only hope Sasuke would deign to help him.

Yet at the same time, he wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere, wished for the wind to cover him in a pile of leaves, a tree to fall on him; anything to prevent Sasuke from seeing him like this.

No matter how much he wanted him back, he didn't need the indignity of facing him this way. He imagined Sasuke's face twisted into a sneer, his disgusted tone as he mused on how weak Naruto was to be defeated in the backwoods—because Sasuke wouldn't know he'd been fighting Itachi, an S-class missing nin, and would immediately assume it was some stupid mistake that caused Naruto's injury.

But of course, if there was the possibility of humiliation, Naruto was never spared.

The chronically grumpy boy's pace faltered and slowed, no doubt as his path intersected the trail of broken, bruised and scorched trees Itachi and Naruto had left in their wake. The damage was a few hours old by now, and the Uchiha-teme's steps grew more cautious as he followed it, eventually becoming so quiet that Naruto had to strain to pick it up. Naruto could guess that he wouldn't stick to the trail, rather opting to keep his distance from it in case someone was still there and saw him walking in the cleared space left by the clash.

The footsteps came closer. Fifty yards…

Twenty five…

Ten…

It was almost inaudible, but Naruto still heard the sharp, surprised intake of breath after Sasuke first glimpsed him.

Sasuke Uchiha had sometimes wondered, with the feeling of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar (only these cookies contained glass filings and arsenic), what his next meeting with Naruto would be like.

Of course, the dobe would probably come along with his nauseating arguments about friendship, love and teamwork, and his sickening martyr complex.

The dobe never did realise that everyone wasn't the same as him; that those arguments would never work on Sasuke. Sasuke, whose brother haunted his nightmares every night, until he could find peace in the knowledge that the man was dead. In a fight like this, there was no room for tender feelings or friendship, just raw power and hate, and power was one thing he couldn't get from Konoha or its people.

Sasuke had always known that, but for a while, Naruto, Sakura and Kakashi, in their own ways, had distracted him from his mission. Plans for the future began to form in his mind, plans for ANBU membership and staying with his team, like a family. Kakashi would be there to advise him and teach him techniques, the dobe would advance with him—though a little slower, as befitted a dobe, of course, and even the pink haired fangirl would eventually accept that he wasn't secretly in love with her. The vengeance he had sworn became a vague afterthought, something he'd get around to doing after everything else, maybe. He'd enjoyed the sensation of feeling anything other than desolation and the overpowering need for vengeance when he'd been in the company of the hyperactive blonde.

Then, with a horrified surge of guilt, he'd realised what was going on. Sasuke had forgotten. Forgotten the way Itachi had killed his mother and father, throwing their love back in their faces as he took their lives, and made Sasuke relive it for hours on end. He'd forgotten how Itachi had dishonoured his entire clan in a single night and abandoned him; leaving him the task of redeeming it. Sasuke's grasp on his reasons for revenge had been slipping, the reasons for his planned path of life looking more feeble by the day. And the straw that broke the camel's back was the moment he'd realised that, despite all his effort, the dobe, the loser of the class, was surpassing him in technique and power.

What would his parents say if they saw how he was throwing the memory of their demise by the wayside?

The dobe had poisoned him with his happiness. It had seeped into him so silently, taking root despite all his efforts to push it away, clinging to his heart and digging in its claws, until only the realisation that he wasn't moving towards his goal snapped him out of it.

Knowing he had to gain more power, and stay as far away from that village and the debilitating feelings planted in him by his team—for how could he beat Itachi if even the village idiot was progressing faster than him?—he'd started thinking of looking elsewhere for power.

Orochimaru had only been the logical conclusion.

So, whenever he found himself wondering what the dobe was doing, and if he felt a smirk threaten to twitch on his lips when something reminded him of one of the myriad of stupid things the dobe always did, he only had to think of Itachi to make it go away. It was hard, and the thoughts were becoming more stubborn, but Itachi's burning eyes always won out.

But for all his Not-Thinking-About-The-Dobe moments, he'd still sometimes caught himself wondering what he'd have to do to get the dobe off his back next time…If he would have to shove a Chidori right through his heart, and if that would finally put an end to his thoughts of home and what it would be like to be back there, away from Orochimaru's suffocating hold.

Sasuke had never imagined that the next time he met Naruto would involve no saccharine comments or pleas at all.

He came upon the winding, serpentine trail of decimated trees as he was heading to one of the hideouts Orochimaru maintained for his travelling followers, spotted over many countries in isolated areas.

Immediately, he knew that this had been no small fight; the destroyed trees alone indicated that blows strong enough to kill lesser enemies had been exchanged. The air was laden with the crackling tension of used chakra, but it was so faded that it was no longer recognisable, save for the fact that a lot of it had been expended. The fight must've been only a few hours old for there to still be traces of chakra in the atmosphere.

A burnt green smell invaded his nose, clinging to the back of his throat.

Sasuke followed the trail cautiously, lest anyone was still there. Mild curiosity stirred within him. While he was supposed to rest before going on, he had nothing to do, and even though slightly tired, he knew if he slept he'd wake up in a cold sweat after only a while, the after image of Itachi's Mangekyou Sharingan flashing behind his eyelids every time he blinked. That or he'd dream about the dobe again…seeing his expression at the Valley—

In any case, the culprits might be hostile, and they could still be nearby, so Sasuke was obligated to do some reconnaissance for safety's sake.

The trail grew wider until it petered out into a wide, circular, cleared area, the earth jagged and torn, where the fight had obviously reached its climax. No bodies lay in sight, and Sasuke wondered if the winning party had taken away or disposed of the loser's.

Spending a minute to scan the area for people, he concluded that anyone who walked away from the fight was long gone. So Sasuke stepped into the clearing.

Footprints were scattered here and there, but they intersected each other, or were torn by rents in the ground. The only thing Sasuke could deduce was that a relatively small person had been fighting against a large one. A female Shinobi, perhaps?

He paced the perimeter of the clearing, looking for more signs. It wasn't until he reached the other side clearing that he found anything of interest.

A single, fat drop of blood lay on the ground, its lengthened form indicating that whatever had bled had been moving very fast as it did. Sasuke immediately began walking in the direction the feathered edge of the droplet pointed, out of the clearing.

He saw no signs of a body having been removed from the unblemished forest floor, and after walking no small distance, he came to the conclusion that the bleeding party had been thrown, and thrown far, with considerable force.

Sasuke was completely unprepared for the icy dread that splashed through his stomach when something orange between the trees caught his eye.

No, surely not, being ridiculous, baka, this far out—

Sasuke's gaze zeroed in on the blotch of colour. He felt the blood drain from his face and his breath die in his throat when he recognised it as clothes. Orange and black clothes, marred by a large red stain in the centre of the jacket, adorning a supine Uzumaki Naruto.

Shafts of sunlight lit his hair in a golden shade, strands falling over his bare forehead. The hitai-ate he always wore lay a few yards away, a new dent in its worn surface.

His eyes were closed, and if it weren't for the unnatural bone white shade of his skin and the crimson all over his chest Sasuke would've thought he was sleeping. The small trickle of blood from his mouth contrasted with his pale skin and drew his eyes like a magnet.

He wasn't aware of moving, but suddenly he was kneeling by his side, shaking his shoulder with a shell shocked "Uzumaki?" falling from stiff lips, and the only thing he could think was how utterly wrong it was for someone who was so constantly energetic, alive and active, to be so very still.

It was only when he reached for his hand to measure his pulse that he realised Naruto's wrist felt as cold as the ground beneath it.

To be continued.

Please review! Constructive criticism welcome :)