Their story - or rather, a part of their story - begins with a question.
âDo you know a guy named Ishi?â
It was a question carefully intoned with nonchalance, spoken the same way one would ask about the date or the weather. And had it been someone other than Uchiha Sasuke asking, Naruto would have thought nothing of it. He would have just admitted that the name did not sound familiar at all and he would have just went on his merry way and enjoyed a relatively uneventful day.
But it was Uchiha Sasuke who was asking; so Naruto, masking his ignorance with an air of mystery, decided to counter the question with another question of his own:
It would have been imperceptible to anyone else - the small twitch of annoyance that crossed the raven-haired boyâs countenance - but not to Naruto.
âNothing, forget I askedâ, the Uchiha snapped, turning on his heel to leave.
Oh, was that a trace of frustration he heard? The kyuubi-vessel couldnât help but grin. It was never ânothingâ for Uchiha Sasuke. His best friend was a man of few words who simply didnât âdoâ casual conversation - so this, this question, meant something. This âIshiâ fellow was important - in what way, he didnât know, couldnât even begin to guess, but by the sage of the six paths, he would damn well find out.
It was lucky, then, that Naruto knew exactly how to deal with the last remaining Uchiha.
Carefully schooling his expression into a serious one, Naruto decided that it was time for an answer. Give a little to receive a lot, so to speak.
âI donât know who Ishi is, Sasuke, but I can help you find out.â
When Sasuke wavered, and finally paused, Naruto suppressed a grin. Hook. Line. And sinker.
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