Naruto was weak. Not just from hunger, but from the pain from his wounds, and from the wounds themselves.
It was his birthday. Oct 10. The one day where a child should be happy, and pampered with gifts and the love from his/her friends and family. Instead, Naruto was beaten. Again.
He never understood why. Perhaps it was his pranks? But then again, all he wanted was attention.
Looks like I received it, He thought, still crawling weakly. The ANBU had come to save him, but he knew that they didn't like him either. Why didn't he know before? Well, even he lacked an answer for that. Let's just say that he suddenly felt...awake. As if he was in a semi-coma, and he was forced out of it.
Then the memories came. Oh, the bitter, painful memories. Of more hatred, pain, and suffering that he went through. He was even crucified! Pins shoved into his head!
He soon came to realize that even "Gramps," the Third Hokage, couldn't be trusted. After all, he basically let this happen. He knew that he had to bring justice to him. But not yet.
And maybe never, He thought miserably. Oh, what can I do?
He decided to hide behind a trashcan, taking care to cover his blonde hair with a trash bag in some sort of attempt to camouflage in the dark. He also took care to lose his orange jumpsuit, and in the end, he was almost naked, clothed with only torn trashbags.
He winced as his hand brushed over a still healing wound.
This healing ability is turning out to be more of a curse than a blessing. He thought. After a minute of trying to stop the bleeding, he had to lean on the wall to balance himself.
And the next thing he knew, he fell through the wall.
When he finally came to, he was in a dimly lit room.
"Where am I?" He wondered out loud. Gingerly standing up, he slowly walked around. He passed many rooms, with nothing but strange tools, benches, machinery, etc. But no people.
Perhaps that's for the best. He thought. No one to hurt me.
Eventually, he found a room with a bed. It was dusty, but at least it was safe. Before he decided to sleep, he wished to explore the room for a bit. His eyes came upon a desk, with a strange looking brass lamp lighting the desk up.
Almost as if inviting me, Naruto thought, noticing how like a spotlight, the light shone directly on a book. Limping towards it, he read the title: The Autobiography of the Toymaker.