I don't own Naruto.
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The wind blew through the trees, and the leaves whispered to each other.
"Look!"
"What is that?"
"It's a human!"
"No, it's not. It's a fox."
"No way! It's a demon"
"You're all wrong!"
"Yeah, it's a hanyou."
And the wise old tree creaked just a little bit, under the strain of the swing below.
"No, it's a jinchuuriki."
And the wise old tree knew this, for three now, have sat under his branches, ever since he was but 10 years old.
However, the boy sitting sadly under the swing heard none of this, being a human, and unable to understand the whispering of the trees. The only thing he was aware of were the fellow students of the Academy being picked up by their parents.
For this young man had no parents, he was alone in the world and hated by all, though he is unknowing of the reason. But the trees knew. And the adults knew. Or thought they knew, but they don't really know, do they? Prejudiced as they are, hateful, scornful, blind, as they are.
But the trees knew. And the winds knew. The earth knew, too. They knew that a jinchuuriki walked among them. And the trees, the wind, and the earth spread their knowledge. The trees told their leaves. The wind told the clouds, and the rain, the seas, and oceans, the animals who bothered to listen. The earth told the creature down deep in it's soil, and the pebbles kicked around the ground.
The pebbles swerved around the boy, if ever thrown at him, the rain hid his tears when he needed to let them go.
If nobody else would care for the boy, nature would, and nature would do it proudly.