Sinclair: I wrote this one! Lone Crimson, too, but forgot to mention it. (sweatdrops) This might be a one-shot, but I think I'll try to continue it, have someone figure him out, etc. etc….
Kyo: You're stories are depressing….
Sinclair: Quiet!
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A small blonde boy stared out the window of the dingy little apartment with deadened blue eyes. There were people out there. Walking around in the sunlight which they so took for granted. The boy was only 7 and already he could feel something akin to hate and pain in his heart. Hate for the people that took their lives for granted. Pain for the life he would never live.
He sighed, turning from the window. Stepping lightly off of his hard cot in the corner, he treaded with soft, weak feet to the bathroom. It was the only room in his home beside the room that served as living room, dining room, closet, kitchen and playroom all at once. Not that the small boy ever played. He just practiced moving about to keep himself busy and from forgetting how.
With a bowed head he reached up, farther than most six year olds needed to, to the sink, turning the single handle with clumsy fingers. Searing hot water gushed out, but he gritted his teeth and scrubbed away at his hands until he could stand it no longer. He had to get rid of the filth. Get rid of the filth so that he could be touched! Mommy always made him scrub himself red before she would touch him. When she came to get him from this awful place and brought him home again, he had to be clean! Be clean for Mommy!
The boy drew away from the scalding water, sobbing into his red hands. If he had been clean in the first place, Mommy wouldn't have left him here. He would be back in his little room, where he could come and go almost as much as he pleased. He wouldn't be stuck.
The day Mommy brought him here, had started as the best in his life. Mommy had woken him herself, given him a bright orange jacket (which was practically a cloak for him, it was so big), and after he was thoroughly clean, brought him outside for the first time ever. With the giant hood pulled over his head they had traveled all the way across Konoha, and into a tall building where lots of people lived. The people were scary, but it hadn't mattered. Mommy brought him to a room, set him down on a cot with a bag bigger than he was, and taught him how to make Ramen. After, she smiled at him (Smiled! At him! For the first time ever!) and told him she's come back and would come get him soon, and not to leave no matter what, before walking out, closing and locking the door behind.
He was confused at first, and for a while afterwards. But by the time his supply of Ramen was gone, about a month later, he had understood.
Mommy had left him there. And it was a long time in coming before she would return.
He stared with wide eyes through his fingers at the cracked tile floor. Mommy once told him, when she thought he was asleep, that he was the most horrible thing that happened in her life. That she wished she had died when he was born, so she wouldn't have to see what he did to his father every day of her life. So she wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that she was the mother of a murderer and monster. He was the exact opposite of everything that she could ever have wanted, the exact opposite of a human being.
A shaky, weak smile touched his dry lips. He was quiet and withdrawn, this he knew. So if he were to be loud and social, Mommy would be happy when she came to get him, right? He was so sad and angry, but if he was happy and caring, Mommy might let him play with other kids, and leave the house sometimes and get hugs every day! He would be as good as all the other kids, and then people would care about him!
He grabbed the edge of the sink, pulling himself up and sitting on the rim as he took in his appearance in the mirror. The person that looked back at him was a waif, dull blonde hair hanging into his face, his whisker-like markings standing out in sharp contrast to his pure white skin. He wore only a large thin pare of pajama bottoms, so you could count his ribs only by looking, and easily see the swirl mark on his non-existent belly. He forced a shaky, slightly fanged smile to his face. "Hello…." he said in a weak voice, raspy with ill-use. "My name is Uzumaki Naruto."
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Hmm…. I could probably make this a one-shot, couldn't I? I don't think I will though. Who should I pair him with? A boy, definitely. I don't really like the girls in Naruto, their too aggravating. Maybe Neji? He'd see through the act. Sasuke?….. Someone smart…..Hmm. I dunno. We'll see soon.
Please review!