Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. There, I said it. I'm not saying it again though…
Prologue: One Year Prior
Deep in the inner boughs of the forest surrounding the Hidden Leaf village, a solitary figure sat, shoulders bent forward in a defeated shrug, his face tearstained in streaks that shone as the moon reflected through their thinly layered sogginess. The child, now noted to be a boy, ran his hand over his eyes, clearing his vision of any residual tears.
Staring at the sky, gazing at the starry night, he held a fascination with the dark light, the quiet reminder that in all of the blank cold of space, there remains to be small stars that keep it bright and cheerful in the absence of the Sun. As the boy gazed at the full moon, he found himself silently wishing that he could be like the Sun, depended upon, loved and impossible to ignore.
The child was small, his head covered in brilliant gold wild hair, unrestrained in almost a sad fashion. He wasn't clothed in much, a simple cheap orange shirt and tattered shorts, anything the people at the village would let him have. Or not, the shirt he had pinched, stolen, from an unwary shopkeeper before he had been thrown out. The old Hokage would have been disappointed in him, but there was little else he could do…
"I wish I could be a dog," the boy thought sullenly. "Everybody loves dogs, hell, even cats more than me…"
Thoughts began to ebb, receding to the previous day; he had witnessed the full love the village could give. He had seen the way the village fondled and awed at another boy, whose family had been lost in some tragic accident. They treated the boy like a hero, because his family…his family…
"Dammit, what about my family? I never had one either…maybe, you have to have at least had a family to loose them," he whispered the words, his eyes beginning to draw tears again. He quickly shook his head, after all, hadn't he sworn he would never cry again? He may have stolen a shirt, but he sure as hell wouldn't be called a liar.
Never.
"Damned villagers," was all he thought. "They can keep their pity." He for one wouldn't need it; he didn't need anything, or anyone. At least he got attention in his pranks. Nobody dared do what he did. He taunted shinobi. He may get caught every time, but he was getting better. Maybe one day he could get away with anything he wanted. Nobody could stop him…
Hopping down from his perch, the boy placed his hands behind his head and relaxed into a smile. Something big was going down tomorrow. He was going to pull a great prank on someone. It takes less muscle to smile than frown, and he needed all the muscle he could reserve.
Humming to himself, the boy made his way out of the forest and into the Village of the Leaf. There was very little of the spring in step or the sparkle of his eyes that would be expected of someone who looked so happy. In a way, the boy wasn't happy. He was frustrated and depressed, but to show it would be the weakness that the village was waiting for. A smile from him was more like a taunt; the villagers hated seeing him happy.
A taunt to the villagers, an act of defiance. He was completely defiant. He refused to die at the hands of the villagers, he would become stronger, and, one day, he would be liked and respected. Now he mentally added never to cry again to his list. He would be stronger, but he was in no hurry. What would he do with a little extra strength? He wasn't allowed into the ninja academy.
No, getting strong could wait. First he needed a friend. But finding one was proving to be difficult. Only time will tell at this point, but he was getting desperate. The boy watched children giggling, talking, telling secrets to one another. Confiding, crying, comforting; things the boy wished he could do, or share with another.
Time came for him to hide, to sweep to the heart of the city unseen. He leapt onto a roof and copied the way he had seen other shinobi move through the city quickly. Bouncing on overhangs because he wasn't quite good enough to make it all the way on long jumps, he moved quickly and silently to his small home, his apartment. The boy sighed in relief at how he avoided all of the village people.
But it wasn't over yet. Slowly leaning back into the door of the complex, he moved into the inner hallway. Moving quickly, pressing himself against the whitewashed wall to remain as unseen as possible, he began to move towards the stairs.
The manager's room was situated directly across from the entrance of the stairs, the boy had to be extra careful here. The only door ajar was the manager's; it was always open to make it easy for the other tenets to visit. Or that was his excuse.
The child reached the edge of the wall; he stood just out of view of the dimly lighted room. Light, from what seemed to be a quietly running TV, spilled out onto the scrappy carpet. Heart thudding against his chest, the boy paused momentarily, wanting to see if he had been awaited.
One second.
A full minute.
Taking a deep breath, the boy took a step out onto the steps. Soon afterward came the sound of a clattering chair, a small cry of resentment and a torrent of flurried steps. The boy wasted no more time.
He rushed up the stairs, and down the second floor's hallway. He heard the manager's thudding footsteps following up, and fished out the key for his apartment. Jamming it in the lock, stepping inside and closing the door with a slam, the child reached up on tiptoe to bolt the door and keep the manager from entering. After all, the man had that bloody master key…
A thud and a few choice curses later, the manager left the boy alone in his room.
Grimacing at the violent display and huffing slightly, the boy glanced around his apartment while he awaited the return of his breath. There wasn't much to distract him from his pounding heart, however. Plain unpainted walls were beginning to crack, each crack beginning to branch out, in such a way that water would dribble down, almost giving the impression that they were weeping.
There were two rooms, and his living room made up his bedroom while it connected with a kitchen. The other room remained to be a bathroom, poorly furnished and lacking most of the needed sanitation equipment, such as soap. The kitchen too was badly lacking in appliances. About the only thing that he could accomplish in there was to boil water, which he used in oatmeal and the occasional cup of ramen.
Finally, with a heave, the blond child entered the kitchen for dinner.
Crying your eyes out in a forest will often give you an appetite.
School was an important part of the boy's day, although he had no real desire to become a shinobi. The risks that would be taken just didn't seem worth it, to be protecting the village that hated him so…
Getting to school wasn't really that difficult, but waking up from the previous night's rather troubled sleep was hell. Since he had fallen asleep at the small kitchen table, his back cracked in refusal at any limber movements, while his head continued to ache from the uncomfortable position.
He arrived at the academy to find that he was just in time, and wouldn't be punished in the usual fashion for being late. He entered the large room just as the morning chat died down in response to the teacher's roll call.
The tables were lined throughout the room, three seats to a table. At the front of the room, down a small flight of steps stood the ninja instructor, an old looking man past his prime. Apparently the only thing left the man could do was to pass on what he had learned to the younger generation, and even with that, he was soon to retire.
Despite the obvious look of disapproval that came from the instructor, the boy took a lone seat at the back of the classroom. He didn't care that the teacher disapproved; he had nobody else to sit with anyways. He was alone, especially since he had failed yesterday's exam, and had to spend a whole year relearning the basics.
Not that it really mattered anyways; the people here had been a year older than him. Now he was among his own age.
Soon the teacher began to ramble off names, one after another, calling to be sure that the children that were supposed to be learning in his class were there.
"Aida, Kuruno…?"
"Present"
"Akaito, Tsuita…?"
"Good Morning Professor!"
"Ah, good morning Tsu-chan. Amasu, Touji…?"
"…he's skipping."
"Thank you Tsu-chan, I'll be sure to punish him later. Azu-"
The doors leading into the classroom were suddenly flung open. A young man, hunched over with his hands outstretched, stumbled into the classroom and flung himself into the seat closest to him. With a huge breath and an even bigger smile, the recently arrived boy apologized for being late.
"Sorry professor," the kid heaved, "but there was this thing at the place and I had to help out."
"Of course, Seiji-kun. You were only doing what you thought was right. I think I can overlook your tardiness…"
Seiji's face was overjoyed. With a shout, a huge grin and a loud, "Thank you Sensei!" he dropped down in the seat next to the other almost late arrival, who gave him a stare of bewilderment.
"What just happened?"
"Hmm?" Seiji glanced over at the boy. He looked a little young, and the disarray state of his hair to him that the boy had almost just gotten up. "What do you mean?"
The boy snorted. "You were obviously spouting shit. Why'd he let you off? You special or something?"
Seiji's eyes narrowed slightly, but his demeanors remained unchanged. "Funny. You got a name, twit?"
The boy mumbled into his desk.
"Speak up stupid, I can't hear you!"
The boy immediately turned towards Seiji, giving him a cold stare. "Shut up. The teacher has excellent hearing. He is a shinobi after all. And I'm not stupid just because I failed the exam-"
Seiji quickly interrupted. "You failed the gennin exam?"
"What's it to you?"
Seiji smiled brightly again. "So did I! We're in the same boat. What did you screw up in?"
Another mumble.
"What?"
"The bunshin…"
"Really? I screwed up at that too! And the transformation…and the kunai…"
But that's like the entire exam! "So are you retarded or something? At least I passed the others."
Seiji paused. "No," he said quietly, "I'm not retarded…" The light in his eyes had gone out for a second. Flickered in intensity, but came back again at full force. "And I'll prove it too! I'm going to pass this year, maybe even become Hokage someday!"
"Hokage…?" To become the Hokage. The respect of the village, and the other shinobi… That was what he wanted, but Seiji seemed to want it even more. It was like his only hope, the thing that kept him going.
"So, are you going to tell me your name?"
The boy was jerked out of his thoughts once again. Seiji wanted his name again. He couldn't give it away without the other boy flinching and moving to take another seat… But what did it matter? He was used to it, and Seiji did ask… "Naruto Uzumaki."
Seiji paused for a moment. He then deftly snatched something out of his pocket. He held a small notebook in his hands. Whipping it open, he read a few lines and asked, "THE Naruto Uzumaki?"
Naruto slowly nodded his head, wondering what Seiji happened to be reading.
"That's funny, you're on my 'People to Avoid' list. Maybe because of your temper…"
Naruto started. 'People to Avoid' list? Why would he have one of those…unless… "Are you new to Konoha?"
Seiji scratched his nose. "Might be. Why are you on my list?"
"I dunno anything about any stupid list! Where'd you get it?"
Seiji held up his hands at the outburst. "Hey, I got it at the gate when I came here. Look, it's even got a picture." Seiji held the small booklet out. Sure enough, a small drawing of him showed, although it was grossly inaccurate and showed heavily elongated fangs and a demon-like smirk. "It doesn't look much like you, does it? Konoha's profiler should be fired."
Naruto sighed, turning away from the booklet. "No, that's just how the villagers see me…"
"Don't your folks do anything about it?"
Naruto winced. "They're dead."
Shinji lowered his gaze. "Sorry, didn't mean to bring up any bad memories…I know how that feels."
"How could you know how this feels! My emptiness? How could you know what its like to have no friends and to be hated and ignored by EVERYONE!" Why was he telling this to him? He had only known Seiji for a few minutes. He took on an apologetic look and was about to apologize for his outburst.
As if reading his mind, Shinji beat him to the punch. "Don't worry about it, everyone needs to vent once in a while. And as for how I understand you…" Seiji smiled sadly, "my parents are dead too. I've had to wander through most of the villages, few of which I've been accepted in, so I've had little time for friends. I used to go to the academy in hidden sand, but they kicked me out because of my abysmal exam scores, so I decided to come here…"
Naruto stared at the kid next to him. Here was somebody that understood him, who felt some of the things that he did. Maybe it would be worth risking a relationship in this case… Seiji, however, beat him to the punch again.
"So…wanna be friends?"
Naruto smiled, truly smiled, for the first time in almost five years. "Sure."
From the Desk of Tyr'll
First things first…NOT A SELF INSERT!
I'm really hoping this will be an original plot. Since this is only the prologue, however, don't make any assumptions…
As for when I will update, if you care, I dunno. When I feel like it. I often have problems when I write with writers block. I will, however, refuse to abandon a story if it is at all possible for me to finish, so don't worry about another story that only consists of a prologue.
To all of you who might be reading this and wondering why I'm not working on What Are Friends For?, I am working on it, and am trying to update, but my writer's bock is acting up.
Any Questions? No? Oh well…
