Endless frowns, surrounded by the treches of ignorance. They panged with disgust. Beyond, in their eyes, was an unbridled ferocity. Wise to keep away from but hard to ignore.

He tried, though.

He was to wise to let get to him. He knew better than to give in, it would only give to their satisfaction. Rather fruitlessly, he quickly swept through the crowds. As it was not in his best interest to cause any problems, he quickly left their disgraceful glares.

Slipped inside of an alleyway, he calmed his breath, suddenly noticing that he had been breathing raggedly. He sat onto the side, covered by shadows, of a wall. It was presumed to be an abandoned and hallowed place, so he doubted anyone would care to search within' it.

Looking down at his small frame, and seeing the small rags that he called clothes, he sighed with contempt. He knew the way he lived wasn't right. Having to fight for even the bare scrapings of a plate, he knew he had it bad. But he was content, for now.

Looking up at the lowering sun, he decided to wait out in the alleyway until the dawn of night came. It was only a hour before the shadows began to take reign, with the sun seeping down the horizon; becoming a new day to the other side of the world.

Getting up from his crossed position, he didn't bother to dust off the dirt that welcomed its way on its 'clothes'.

Like it would do him any good, anyway.

Slowly slipping out of the alleyway, he peeked to see that the civilians were beginning to close up shop and go home. Seeing it as the perfect opportunity to leave, he darted in the nights watch. Alike to a mist, the darkness would leave most blind in its path but the young boy favored its presence.

It's when no one noticed him, something he enjoyed.

As everyone quickly went inside, only him and the night were left out. He relished in the isolation before getting back on track.

'Let's begin.'

He darted to the side of another building, though, his intents had a different story today. Climbing up to an open window, he peeked into it and, seeing no one, moved in. Looking around, it was obvious to him that he was in a bedroom, but a big one at that. To his information, though obviously limited, it supported a king sized bed that lofted a luscious, fluffy crimson sheet.

'That's looks so soft..' Shivering at the though of sleeping on the it.

Despite his fascination at the bed, he decided to see what else there was. Looking off to the side, he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. Moving close to the reflective glass, he examined himself. Running a handle through his blond locks, he would notice that they'd get lighter, almost pale. The same were for his eyes, once a beautiful cerulean blue only to shift into that of a pale reminder.

It was not only those features that became to became pale and grey, it was his entire being but he had no qualms on trying to fix it, it not being a major problem. His malnourishment being one. Though, he actually, sort of, welcomed the coming features; anything so people won't recognize him.

Shrugging, he was about to search elsewhere in the room until he heard menacing sound of footsteps.

'Shit!'

Quickly looking around, in his rush, he slipped underneath the giant bed. Hearing the familiar sound of a door creaking, he saw a pair of feet. Presumed to be the house's owners feet, he resisted a gulp.

'Why didn't I just go out the window?'

Deciding not to ravage himself over his poor decision making, he decided to wait until the 'person' fell asleep. Watching the 'person's' feet, he quickly inferred that it was a man. The man seemed to be checking himself in the mirror as his feet were over there, and longer than usual.

Beginning the break some beads of sweat, the boy was relieved to find the man turning away from the mirror with a hum before walking over to the opposite of the room. Hearing a 'flick' sound, the entire room was introduced with the abliss of darkness. Holding back a sigh, the boy felt the bed shift with the added weight of the man.

Hearing him shifting, the boy truly, for the first time, was stunted.

'I hope he snores.'

Beginning to grow irritated by the cold, wooden floor, impatience flooded him like a storm. Deciding that since he heard no motion, the man would be sleep. He slowly, and as silently as he could, slipped from under the kind-sized bed. Once from under, he relished in it, taking in a gulp of fresh air.

Oh, how quick that would last.

Slash!

Looking down at his shoulder, the small boy's eyes widened.

"Ahh!" He screamed as his shoulder. Wincing at the sting that came along with touching it, he saw a large vertical cut that went down his shoulder. Looking at who caused it, he felt a mix of emotions blood ran down his arm.

The man, with his bloodied knife branded, looked at what at his actions; shocked. His body shook, violently. Looking at the boy, regret became to take form upon his roughish feature. He was stuck. By pure instinct, he had attacked this little boy. Seeing the position he was in, his eyes widened greatly as he gripped the blade harder.

In his eyes formed a look, a look that held within its sights, disgust.

"Demon!"

Charging at the small boy, he extended his arms, brandished with the blade, towards the boy. In a jugular fashion, the blade pierced itself into the child shoulder, digging deep. The boy howled in pain as the sharp metal made its way through him. Feeling the soft feeling of blood run down his arm, he couldn't help but allow the hot, salty tears do the same.

Seeing the boy cry caused the man to, even in his enraged state, grow darker.

"You dare cry, Demon! You didn't cry as you killed my wife, my children. I DID!" The man, once again - with his weapon brandish - striked at the boy again. Instead of feeling his blade seep into the boy's flesh, he was introduced to a feeling alike to stabbing an indestructible wall.

Looking down at the boy, his eyes widened at what he saw. Seeing the balled up figure of the 'demon', that's not what had his attention. Surrounding 'it' - as he put it - was a sphere of glowing white energy. Mesmerized by the sight, the fact that he dropped his knife was left unnoticed. Lifting his other hand, he attempted to touch the sphere with amazement, laying his idle hand on its surface.

A lot of mistakes were made that day.

"AHH!"

I shot up from my fetal position - for once, not introduced to the dirt that I usually slept with. Deep inside, I knew something was wrong. Alike to a gut feeling but just, more potent. Feeling the rather cold ground - though, not harsh it nature - my curiosity was quirked. Brushing a hand over the surface, I gave a feel out feel out for its texture. Wooden; I deduced.

I allowed my hand to wander around for sometime, letting my curiosity take ago. Spreading the meaty appendage outward - to the side, at my left - I was stumped. Until I felt something. It was cold, a cold alike to having all heat leave. And it squishy.

Wood wasn't squishy.

I darted my head to left, so fast I could've swore my neck almost snapped. Snanning what I saw, I squinted my eyes to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

I was not, hallucinating.

Infront of me - in my sights - and deduced in haste, was a body. A cold, soft body. Thoughts began to form in my head, from the deepest depths in mind, and I could do nothing to escape them. He's dead, I'm alive; I killed him.

Despite the towering shock that rose upon me, I could only accept those words as truth. Despite how much I didn't want to accept it, how I wanted to believe this was a nightmare - a very dark dream.

I couldn't.

The pinching didn't work, neither did the biting. This was real. I began to slowly crawl backwards, unaware of my surroundings. Then I remember..

I was attacked!

It came flowing in like a broken damn. The memories - of being attacked - of being stabbed. But, for some strange reason, point of views were switched. Instead of seeing the man - from my eyes - attack me, I saw myself get stabbed, from the eyes of assailant himself. At first, I was confused before I saw more.

I saw everything from this point of view. I heard, felt, tasted, smelled everything from this point of view. I experienced his troubles, failures while I also seeing him succeed. It was like a memory, weird for my young minds comprehension. In hindsight, though, it felt as if though I lived the life of someone else.

Likewise, it felt like everything that was once him, found its way into me. From his first breaths to his last scream, his experience and being, his intelligence and prowess were now mines..

It was weird.

Standing up onto my feet, I slowly walked over to the body, though, there was a new consciousness to me as I did so. I stopped infront of the body before kicking it - kind of forcefully, as he did try to kill me - allowing me to see its features.

Just like how memory said, those rough features of his only added to his suspections.

Damn. I thought to myself.

Despite the fact that my knowledge and intelligence had skyrocket beyond what it normally was, it still was surprised at something that came with a dawn..

And, surprisingly, it only involved myself.

The Kyūbi.. is not dead.

It all made sense now. The way the villagers would treat him. As if he was unwanted trash. I shook my head. I knew better than to go completely by what the man believed. Technically - and by this, I mean mentally - I wasn't a child any more. I had experience beyond my years and, to be said, my naive days were over.

I am nothing more then it's Holder. Nothing more, nothing less.

The logic behind it made sense. If he were to actually be 'the great demon' he doubted he would be contemplating if he was the monster or not. No, If I was actually the demon, revenge would most likely be my first quotient. Not meaningless thoughts centering around if I am actually, me.

That's just plain, idiotic.

I chuckled at that, life was like a game of poker. There always seemed to be a gamble.

Hm, thinking about it, it seems as though, I was good at poker. Or, at least, 'Ibika Amina', was.

Humming to myself in thought, I finally recognized something. Looking down at the dead body, I began to think about the situation.

This.. is bad. Despite the fact that he attacked me, my favor would be ignored as I was in his place of residence. He didn't really have any friends, and the people who actually knew him were only minor business partners. Nothing special..

Walking over to a nearby dresser, I opened it before flipping out some clothes. Finding what I was looking for, I pulled it out in fascination. It was a half- foot dagger with a black hilt. On its knob was the Konoha leaf symbol.

What an expensive piece of weaponry.. it'll do.

With a hint of caution, I placed to blade onto the man's cold hand before positioning it onto his forehead; ready to pierce into the man's skull.

I would say sorry but.. that's pointless now.

With a jolt of force, I let the blade seep into the man's head. Walking backward, I examined the scene before nodding in agreement.

Looks like someone just couldn't take it anymore.

Seeing that it looked real enough to be considered an act of Seppuku, we'll if your abdomen was in your head but close enough. Turning around, I set my sights to the window that started all of this. That caused the death of Ibika Amina.

It was the start of different, but better..

Uzumaki Naruto!