Disclaimer: All rights belong to Masashi Kishimoto
Summary: Do you know? When a person hates and doesn't acknowledge someone's existence… Their eyes when they look at him… Are, frighteningly cold.
Edited 24/6/2011. See the edit author note for edited section. Just a slight change but important for later.
"Speech, human, Summon"
'Thought, human, Summon'
"Jutsu" (followed by English translation)
"Speech, Demon, possessed jinchuuriki"
(number) corresponding authors note
Finally I would love to say a big thank you to my beta Syroc. It's thanks to his efforts that this story is of the quality it is and why I'm determined to finish this story. Thanks a ton Syroc.
Also thank you to all the other beta offers I received.
Frighteningly Cold
Arc 1: Descent
Chapter 1: Misery
"Sacrifice still exists everywhere, and everywhere the elect of each generation suffers for the salvation of the rest."
Henri Frederic Amiel
"And thus it was done. One became nine, and ten was no more. But then to hold back their power, their rage and their hate one became nine… and from that, the misery of a thousand souls was born."
Senju Heiwa (Founder of the Senju Clan)
A parent loves their child. A child loves their parent. It is bond without question. A thing of beauty. But beauty is so easily marred and that bond as easily broken. But one man refused to give up that bond. He wouldn't let his son live without letting him see his parent's love at least once. He wanted his son to be strong, to do all that he could that his son may survive in a world without peace. This man was the Fourth Hokage. He died that his son might know love. His son gave his life that others would be safe. And thus the misery of another soul was born.
(6 Years Later)
Cold. Inside and out. Shiver.
Crunch. Snow beneath heavy boots. A few people walked by in the evening dark, shadows flickering beneath the dim lighting.
A boy stumbled. Skin upon ice. He fell to a knee, hand braced against the ground. Struggle. Back on his feet. The bare skin ashen, wading through the snow.
He was cold. So very cold. Up. He looked up. Saw the cold looks. Watched them turn away. He looked back down. The snow was cold too. But at least… at least it wasn't scared.
The street emptied. The few stragglers out in the dark fled as misery approached. Fear. Written upon their eyes. Written in ice. A look so cold, mortal fear. A quick glance, a shuffled retreat. A long stare, a brief flight. They all left. And in that quiet, snow-coated road the boy trekked on, looking for warmth.
'Please come back. I'm so cold.' Sniff. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't. Because crying made everyone run away even faster.
Like silk. Smooth and flowing. Like acid. Corrosive and sour. It crawled forth. A voice. Whispering poison to steal your soul. "Doesn't it hurt? The fear, the hate, all held in that look? It chills your blood. You don't need them. You don't want them. Learn to hate and we can make them… disappear!" Then it was gone. Vanishing as quickly as it came.
He glanced up. Looked round. Shrug. There was no one there. He marched on.
'Please. I want to go home. I feel so cold.' Sniff. Again he refused to cry. He wouldn't. Not again so soon…
(Flashback )
Flakes of white. Cold. Drifting down from who knows where. But we know they landed in the open yard connected to an orphanage. And in that place, amidst the falling snow, misery was renewed.
Grey clouds. Swirling overhead. Grey as the world. Soft light all that reached the earth, a place once green, now white with snow.
Shrieks of laughter. Shouts of surprise. Yelled curses . The snowballs flew and the children played.
He watched the other kids run about in the snow. Playing, laughing, wiping the snow out of their eyes… Happy. Friends. Love. He craved it. He wanted it all. He glanced round at the dark, the dark surrounding him, hidden amongst the trees. The orphanage backed onto a training area. And from its ground he watched.
Gulp. He willed up his courage, leapt, landed on the low wall surrounding the yard, then down. Down amongst children. A scrap of orange fluttering in his hand, clutched beneath his burden.
He stopped. Lifted his prize. "I… I got the ball back. You lost it yesterday right?"
"Na… Naruto…"
"It's Naruto the demon! RUN!"
"Run for it!"
"AAAHH!"
"Wait! Don't leave me alone!" Naruto darted forward, faster than a child should be able to. His small hand grabbed a wrist. A girl's. He squeezed. He didn't want them to leave.
CRACK!
He felt her wrist give. Bones break, unable to take the strain.
"AAAAAHHHHHH!" A scream. Her scream. The one in his grasp.
Naruto sobbed. "I don't want to be alone anymore! It's too cold."
"Let me go! Please let me GO!" Shrieks. She screamed in protest, squirming in his grip. The pain. Her wrist was broken. Fear clawing at her throat.
"But I just want to play! Please? I brought the ball back!" He sounded odd. Pleading, fear, both layered over a string of pain, a string plucked to make his voice.
"Let me go! Get away from me!" Purple hair thrashed. Her struggles are in vain. His grip was iron and refused to release her.
"But I just want…" he tried.
"Let her go, monster!"
"Yeah, go away. We don't want you!"
"Monster! You hurt her!"
"Let go of Ami!"
The boy let go. He staggered back. Stumble. He fell as if struck. No punch had been thrown. Their eyes did the damage.
"Please. Play?" He mumbled. Wide eyes staring at the group of children. Cold eyes. All looking through him. Fear. He could even taste it. Acid on his tongue.
"Ami! Are you ok?"
She stumbled forward, caught by the small group. "My arm, it hurts!" Ami sobbed, clutching the offending limb. The children closed ranks around her. 10, maybe 12 orphans faced the boy down.
He recoiled. "Don't look like that! Please?" He seemed to choke. A dry sob. Hiccup. It wrenched his throat.
They all looked with fear and hate at the quivering wretch. Hiccuping on the ground. They backed away.
"You hurt Ami monster!"
"Mr. Kishimoto said we were to stay away from you because you're a Demon!"
"Leave us alone!"
"Please don't leave!" He lurched to his feet. Blond hair swaying. He sobbed. "Don't leave, I'm so cold." A single tear rolled down his cheek. Then another.
The children scattered.
He stood their sniffing and sobbing as tears left tracks upon his face and crimson snow beneath his feet.
(Flashback End)
He staggered down the road. Seeking things he did not have.
'I'm so cold. I wish… I wish I had a friend… and... and a Mommy.' He stopped, shivered. Blue eyes pierced the dark of the alley off the main road.
'Maybe there's warmth down there?' He started forward. Into the dark.
'I want a Mommy. Mommies don't let their children be cold. Mommies love them. If I had a mommy I wouldn't be cold anymore.'
The light at the other end beckoned. He continued on through the deserted alley, past empty boxes stacked beside trash cans over flowing with garbage. Gloom strangled all else.
CRASH! A door thrown open. THUD. A body tossed into the muck.
"And stay out you useless drunk!" A voice. It sounded harsh and hot.
The door snapped shut once more. Slowly the man sat himself up. He leant back against a crate, clutching at his aching head. "Ashh Fucsh you! Errhhm, pullah!" He spat. "Nowsh wesh can I gosh to get mesh some morsh drink?" the man slurred.
The boy froze. Blue eyes locked onto the man sitting in front of him.
The man's head lolled. He blinked. "Eh? A kid? Whatsh you ding oush sosh late shonny? Espeshally in the snowsh. Ha ha, ha..." The laughter died on his lips. He squinted. Eyeing the child of around 7 before him. Snap. His eyes widened, filled with fear, turned cold. "Hey I knowsh you. You'sh demon brash. Yoush, yoush stays awash from me! Away you hear! Away!" He staggered back. Tripping in his haste, crawling amidst the filth. Fear serving better than 10 cups of coffee.
"Please. Don't go." The boy whispered but the man was already gone. A single tear, black without light, rolled down his check. Drip. It landed in the slush. The man had fled, no need to turn back. He continued on.
"I want a mommy! I want to go home!" He sniffed. 'I will not cry!' he wiped the red rivulet from his face and walked on.
(Flash back)
The children had fled.
"Don't… Don't leave me!" He cried out desperately.
He stumbled after them. They rounded the corner and he followed. Up the steps and to the door. Pause. Voices, crying. They were talking to Mrs Kishimoto. They ran the place, she and her husband.
He waited, unsure what to do. The tears had stop but their tracks remained.
Hic. He hiccupped. A dry sob. He moved forward, fear curling in his gut .
Push. He open the door and stepped through.
"AAAHHHH!" Screams. Children. Clustered around a kneeling woman. She panicked. Stood up and turned. Pick up the first thing to hand.
Thump. Thud. Thunk. Clothes. The ironing just finished. Fresh washing soiled by anger.
"Out! Get out!" The woman shrieked. She pelted the small boy. He just stood in the door way, snow swirling about his feet. Cold. The other children watched. Frightened.
"But Mrs. Kishimoto…" His lips trembled. His eyes welled. He began to cry once more. His tears, thick ruby drops. Blood. They coursed down his cheeks. Tears of blood. Stark against the black surrounding his eyes.
"I said get out monster! You only bring pain and misery to those around you! Get out, get out, GET OUT!" Her cries were panicked. Her husband wasn't here. She was afraid. Afraid he would attack her next. Without her husband there to protect her… she felt fear. Fear of that thing, the hurt look and those tears. Inhuman misery.
The boy took a step back. Then another. He clutched his ever present blanket. Trying to draw comfort. Comfort from its warm colour and soft texture. It wouldn't come. Not beneath her stare. So cold, empty. She looked through him. As if he wasn't there. Just fear and disgust coursing it that gaze. He turned, fled. Fled into the grey light beneath the winter clouds. Into the cold.
"And don't ever come back!" Mrs. Kishimoto screamed after the retreating child.
(Flashback End)
He felt so tired. But he couldn't sleep. His eyes were black. Rings of night surrounding his icy orbs.
"Somewhere. There's got to be somewhere I can rest. Somewhere it's not cold." Mumbled musings. He staggered on.
He wouldn't sleep. He couldn't, because when he did… the screams, the blood, bodies and gore. All splattered across his eyelids. Destruction, burning. His home burning. And he was left all alone amidst piles of the dead.
His eyes snapped back open. Catching his fall upon a pipe gliding down the wall.
'Somewhere that's not cold…' his brain seemed sluggish. Feet hard to move. Staggering he moved. Down another alley. This one was lit though. A single bulb flickering in the night.
A box! A big one too. He slumped to his knees and crawled inside. 'Good thing it was knocked over, it kept the snow out.' He scratched his face. Fingers grazing the marks there. He yawned. Slumped back, resting against the wood. 'I'm still cold though.' He clutched his blanket tighter. Pulling it against the white of his shirt, orange meeting red in the swirl upon the white. He pulled his knees up, laying his head upon them. 'So cold.'
Time ticked on and evening became night. The boy sat in the box while his skin turned from pink, to white, to ash. He lingered in the twilight neither awake nor asleep. So tired yet refusing to let the darkness claim him for fear of what he'd see. While he sat, his temperature continued to drop.
(Edited 24/6/2011)
"GRHHHMMMM" A growl. Like a thousand beast snarling. Ringing out across the water. "This will not do. Of all things I will not freeze to death! I am rage incarnate! So… Hmmm, heat is only energy. Chakra is the basis of all energy…"
In the dark of the cage, beneath a cold grey sky, , a grin shone with malicious light.
"I will not die!" the thing spoke, terrible in its joy. Red liquid pooled from the darkness beyond the gate, seeping around pillars set in its way. Mixing with the lake water beyond, then sinking beneath the surface.
Bloodlust. Hate. Rage.
A man stopped dead. His body freezing. He looked to be no older than 18.
'The hell? That feeling… That chakra… It couldn't be…' Forcing himself to move he turned. Crept forward, towards that malevolent power. Grey hair caught the light. A slight shimmer. He peeked around the side of the building, staring at where the evil flowed from.
'Phew it hasn't escaped. Stupid demon.' He crept forward. Heavy boots soundless upon the snow. He didn't want to wake the sleeping thing. He knelt before the open crate, staring at the steaming boy.
'Steaming? The hell?' his hand crept towards the pocket of his flak jacket. He stopped, frozen as a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned slowly, glacial in his motion.
"So, what you up to?" the dog faced ANBU inquired. He sounded like he was smiling. But the kneeling man couldn't tell, not with the ANBU's face covered behind that white screen. He also noted the silent cat-man and hawk-woman standing behind the dog.
Gulp.
"I, err, felt the, the chakra and came to investigate. I found the boy and I was… then you showed up." He finished.
"And if we hadn't showed up you would have...?" Dog inquired, standing in front of the still kneeling man.
Click. Whirr… The gears of his mind flicked into overdrive. "I was going to work out why he was steaming then take him to Lord Hokage!"
Dog nodded. His silence bespoke his pondering.
Hawk answered instead. "You may return to your duties then, we shall deliver the boy instead." Her voice was clear and sharp.
Cat nodded.
Dog sighed. "Fine, fine."
The kneeling man stumbled out of the way as Dog motioned him aside. He stepped forward, crouched and scooped up the boy. He stood. Nod. Nod. Nod. All three ANBU acknowledged their readiness. They disappeared in a swirl of leaves.
"So you located the child?" A man in white robes asked.
The three ANBU stood at attention in the office centre.
Dog removed his mask. His left eye was closed, a long scar crossing it. Apparently the eye had been lost. His open eye revealed a dark brown. A crop of silver spikes for hair adorned his head. But the rest of his face remained hidden behind a half-mask.
Dog spoke. "Yes Lord Hokage. We located the boy in an alley near the market district. He was located inside a box and in the presence of a young chunin. He was warm despite the frigid temperatures and not wearing appropriate clothing. In fact, he was steaming with the amount of heat he was releasing. We believe this warmth resulted from the release of demonic chakra we felt. It also probably saved his life."
"I see." The Hokage murmured. Tobacco, in pipe. Katon jutsu (fire release technique). Smoke. The Hokage, leader of konohagakure no Sato, the Village Hidden in the Leaves, puffed on his pipe. "This chunin, who was he and what was he doing?"
"I believe he's a shinobi called Mizuki Lord Hokage. As for what he was doing, when we arrived he was crouched in front of the boy. He reported that he too sensed the disturbance, probably due to his closer proximity rather than skill, and went to investigate. He also reported that he then planned to bring the boy to you sir."
'Hmm. A loyal and honest chunin it would seem. At least one not blinded by fear at any rate. I shall have to keep an eye on him. Anyone not ardently afraid of Naruto deserves both my respect and gratitude. Well, we shall see.'
Cough.
The Hokage was cut from his musings. He glanced up, noting the cough had come from Cat. He also noted Dog was reading a small orange book and was buried nose deep.
"Team Dog, you are dismissed. And Kakashi, please read that book only in private."
Kakashi, or Dog, did not respond. His eye crinkled. A smile. Then he vanished followed by his teammates. Three puffs of smoke, the only evidence they had ever been.
Sarutobi Hiruzen Stood up and stretched. Being Hokage meant he kept long hours.
Creak. The door to his office opened. He glanced over at the child who wondered in.
A small smile crept upon the ancient face. "Awake at last Naruto?" Hiruzen inquired kindly.
"I don't sleep." Was the mumbled reply. A yawn followed.
"No. You don't, do you?" Sarutobi grimaced. 'What a fate. To never know the joys of sleep or feeling refreshed after a good rest.' He re-schooled his features. "My apologies. Please take a seat." He gestured. Three chairs sat before his desk. The blond boy slumped into the closest.
Yawn.
'Such a shame.' Another lament. Hiruzen re-took his own, more comfortable, seat. "So tell me Naruto, how did you end up in the streets so late at night and why do you have such inappropriate gear for this time of year?" His tone was kind. So was the smile. A gentle warmth called love.
The blond smiled and nodded. Finally someone looked at him. He began to feel warm at last. And so the child re-told his misery to the kindly old man.
