AN: Questions that have bugged me since the beginning of the series:
If Naruto's an orphan, why isn't he at an orphanage? What twelve-year-old gets his own apartment? Who paid for it during his genin years, before he could get missions?
Why does he love ramen so much?
How did a village that hated him let him into a profession that could make him even more dangerous?
When did he start admiring the Hokage (what event triggered it?)
He says his nightcap was the first gift he ever received (can't remember where I read/ heard that part). So who gave it to him?
Why was he so used to being alone (which he bonded with Sasuke over)? If he was at an orphanage, there'd be dozens of people all the time, mean or nice, and if someone took care of him, than he couldn't be alone, right?
All these questions I have tried to answer with my fun little unsung hero, Jihide. I chose her name very carefully, and I suppose you could say she is the sacrifice I wanted Naruto to have to make him special. Because being the Hokage's son doesn't mean you're automatically the shit.
Barely beta'd cause mine are both busy, but I wanted this out. I went on a writing frenzy and I want it off my chest, damnit!
Chapter 11 of YBTFTG will be out eventually, but there are one-shots to be written first. Besides, have you ever tried to wrestle Sai into a semi-normal outfit? Not easy, even in my head.
She didn't know who she was more ashamed of--the village who left him there or the people who hadn't been there to receive him.
Jihide looked down at the bundle of life in her arms, his hair wild and thick even so early and the marks on his face thin but prominent. They promised to become deeper with time.
He was so small--no bigger than her mother's newest set of triplets. Jihide sighed and considered how best to feed him. He'd be hungry soon, and Mother wasn't making enough milk to put into bottles yet--the babies wanted to be held close and suckled at all times. She would have to slip him in between naps, or else convince her mother to begin weening them early. Until then, maybe she could give him real milk?
Jihide was the fourth youngest of the first five children, the second to last before three sets of twins and triplets. She supposed that made her the fourth oldest of fourteen, but she was too busy to bother sorting out the exact numbers. Though she was always there to help out—to clean, cook, feed, help out in anyway—she was invisible until needed by her family, and though she didn't resent this, she wondered why her loved ones demanded so much of someone they never gave back to.
She'd found this child early in the morning when his cries woke her. She'd stumbled out of bed expecting one of her siblings to want milk or a change, but after searching the whole apartment, she realized that the cries were coming from outside.
The note in the bundle said his name was Naruto, and someone named Minato had asked that he be given to the person in the apartment next door.
She wondered what fool had lived there before and forgotten to tell the note-leaver his new address. That place had been empty since she was two.
Her parents wouldn't take him in--even at eight-and-a-half-years-old, she knew that well. He was the kyuubi child (at least, she was pretty sure he was) and her uncle had died at the Kyuubi's claws. She would have to be very careful that no one noticed the new addition. Best to keep a bit of make-up on those marks and have him sleep with her between changes and meals.
Thank god half her family was blond, but she'd have to pray they chalked his eyes up to the newborn blue.
"Welcome to the family, little one."
Naruto giggled and grabbed her finger.
A strange chick could only stay in a nest for so long before Mama noticed the extra babe.
Jihide'd shuffled him into the apartment he'd been intended to live in shortly after her mother asked what happened to her baby's face to give him such horrid scars.
She convinced her parents he was really Yotsuboro playing cat dress-up. Her mother had cast doubtful looks, but since neither wanted to waste time over the matter, they'd let it go.
Jihide presented Naruto with his first present the day she moved him back into the next-door apartment. It wasn't much—a hideous night cap shaped like a seal that ate your head, but it distracted the two-year-old from the bigger gift of his apartment, and that was the whole point.
"De-chan! De-chan!"
She stuffed her face into her pillow, disparaging at the unfairness. She had just gotten to sleep!
"De-chan!"
Sighing and rising, she shuffled to the spot in the back of her closet where the thinest of walls let the little boy's voice carry through. Pressing her face against the wall, she hissed "Naru, go to bed."
"I had a nightmare!" his tiny voice was shrill and she was grateful for the fact that her elder siblings and roommates slept hard.
She sighed. "Did you wet the bed?"
His silence was her answer and soon she had snuck into the next door apartment, baring a new set of sheets. He was only four, but he'd handled it fine.
Now he was living out of her minuscule pocket on ramen and milk and left over baby foods, getting stern instructions to stay in the house while she went to the Academy, hiding around her ankles and helping her with the others when both Naruto and her family needed her. She thought her younger brother Tsuru might have noticed, but he was just as enchanted with the child as Jihide.
She wanted to think that someday someone would notice that Minato-who-ever-he-was's baby was missing, but she guessed if no one had noticed her neighbors had moved, they weren't likely to check back up on whoever had lived there.
With a methodical patience that masked her exhaustion, Jihide stripped the mattress that made up Naru's bed, treating the stain and wiping his tears.
"What did you dream of, Naruto?" she asked and fought back a yawn. She'd probably spend the rest of the night here, and sneak back into the house in the chaos of breakfast.
The boy sniffled. "Big meanie fox growled at me. Had lots of tails and was really hot. I heard screaming."
Jihide nodded and began the steady process of rocking him to sleep. Naruto was never fussy about sleeping when she was there, but he refused to be in bed unless she took the time to read him a story. She grinned. He was such a handful.
She would enroll him in the Academy soon. He would be younger than the others, but she would be close at hand to help. With luck he could graduate early and begin making his way in the world. It wasn't what she wanted for him, but what else could she do? Her life was a juggling act, and this boy needed her. Her family needed her.
Jihide needed a balance, and the Academy looked like her only option, at least for now.
When he awoke the next morning, she readied him for the day, setting up a pile of books and toys for him to occupy himself with and microwaving his morning Ramen. Routine as always, until she asked, "Naru? What do you want to be when you grow up?"
He looked at her and shrugged. "Don' know."
"How about a Ninja? Would you like to join the Shinobi Corps. like me?"
He thought about it for a moment, then asked, "Would I be with De-chan?"
She nodded and watched him swell up with determination. "Then I wanna be a Ninja, just like De-chan!"
Again, she wondered how someone could forget about such a sweet child. Jihide smiled and took his hand "OK, Naruto. Tomorrow I'll take you to the Academy, and then we'll make you a Ninja."
On their way to the Academy, they were stopped by a man Jihide had never been properly introduced to, but knew instantly to bow to in respect. Naruto, too young to understand her strange motions, had grabbed the Hokage's robes in one chubby hand and pulled.
"Naruto!" she scolded, but the Hokage just looked at them with distant eyes and a sad face.
"Who are you?" he asked her.
She straitened and answered, "I'm Kioku Jihide. This is my boy, Uzumaki Naruto."
"Your boy?" The Hokage lifted a brow at that. "Doesn't this boy have his own family?"
"No sir," she said and untangled Naruto's hand from the older man's person, "He was left on the doorstep of an empty apartment next to mine. I found him and I've taken care of him since."
A shocked and slightly confused expression clouded the old face. "Really? An empty apartment?" He looked over Naruto, who was fussing with his shirt, board with this new person who De-chan wouldn't let him play with. "That must be a very large burden on such young shoulders."
"I manage."
"Why not take him to an orphanage?"
"I beg your pardon sir, but I've been raised to take care of those smaller than me, not abandon them to strangers who might not know how to treat a child. Besides, Naruto's not a burden; he's a very good boy who likes ramen and orange."
The village leader smirked. "I see. Well, you have a very good head on your shoulders Kioku-chan. This boy is in good hands."
She bowed a thank you (making Naruto copy her this time) and whisked them off to school.
"De-chan?" Naruto had asked, "Who was that man?"
"He's the Saidame Hokage, leader of the village."
"What's his job?"
"To protect us. He takes care of everyone in Konoha and makes sure everyone is happy and safe. That's what Kage's do."
"Oh. I guess I like him then."
Naruto's first day didn't go very well.
First she had to explain why a twelve-year-old girl was enrolling "An abomination" in the "Hallowed Halls of a Shinobi's Foundation." Jihide was grateful she'd left Naruto outside at that.
She'd argued with the board of teachers for hours, and would have been kicked out herself if not for the kindness of one of the newest teachers; A man with a deep tan and a scar across his nose had vouched for them when Jihide's tears and cries of, "You bastards! How can you call a child a monster? He's done no wrong!" had failed to move hearts. He'd forced them to recall that the Academy had to accept any citizen of Konoha as a potential student, never mind who or what they were.
Finally, they'd had to give in and watched as a female teacher with thick glasses and an upturned nose took Naruto roughly by the wrist and hauled him off to the youngest class. He'd cried for her all the way down the hall, and she'd been unable to do more than call out reassurances that they would both be fine, that she'd see him at lunch, and to behave himself.
At recess, she'd had to watch as other children, conditioned by their parents, had attacked him.
Were it not for the fact that two of Naruto's bullies' brothers had held her back, she would have likely done something to get them both expelled. She'd tried to bite the biggest one, but he was older and pinned her to the ground with an advanced move she didn't know yet and slapped her when she tried again.
But oh! How proud she'd felt when she watched her little boy struggle to stand, standing up despite the bruises. He'd looked at her, face dirty and cut up, and his eyes filled with an anger she'd never seen in him.
He'd yelled, "Let De-chan go or I'll make you sorry!"
The smaller thug had laughed and his brother punched her boy, and it went on like this for a while. Eventually they tired and left, leaving Jihide bruised and Naruto half unconscious.
Without looking in his eyes, she'd gathered him to her and taken him home.
On the way, he'd whispered, "They'll see. I'll make 'em sorry when I'm Hokage. Then no one'll ever hurt De-chan again."
She hadn't said anything as she tucked him in—too ashamed of herself and afraid for his tomorrow.
Jihide graduated quietly, passing her Gennin test with little notice from her family and a few praises from her teachers. She didn't mind. Naruto threw enough of a fuss for the both of them, saving every coin he could find until he could afford to take them out to a real ramen stand.
To save him the humiliation, she'd slipped a few extras into his stash and leading him to the cheapest stand in town.
She'd convinced him that the stall was in fact one of Konoha's hidden gems, that served the best ramen in town and don't let anyone tell him otherwise.
In reality, the place was well managed, but one of the worst tasting places she knew of—the price of cheep noodles, she suspected. Despite that, Naruto had declared it delicious, and she thanked all the Kami's she knew for the power of suggestion and children's ability to believe anything.
Her mind had been on the restaurant across town, where the noodles looked like gold and the broth filled one with drunken warmth and she'd prayed he'd never taste it, if only to save this little white lie.
After graduation, Jihide did what everyone in her family had always done and always expected of her: she worked for the family.
Not one paycheck went into her own pocket. Not one yen was saved away for herself. Always, there was the Kioku leach waiting for her—taking and taking and forgetting to give back to her, its willing host. She didn't mind, but it chafed when she recalled telling each one she loved them, and never hearing more than a flat reply—if that.
Her missions were divided into two groups—B-Classes went to her family's savings, and D-Class to C-Class for Naruto.
The one time she'd been placed on an A-Class mission, she'd placed the money in the shoe-box under Naruto's bed, where he kept his own stash of cash.
She told herself it wasn't stealing from her family, because what was Naruto if not her kin in all but blood?
By the time Jihide was fourteen, she had been in the village a total of three weeks in the entire year. Her missions were strictly C-Class aways now, and she almost never saw anyone but her teammates.
Naruto told her not to worry about him—that he was fine on his own. He was training to be the Hokage, after all, and really—when did she ever see Hokage-Sama with anyone?
The worst part was that he meant every word.
All she could do was smile and fill his cupboards with ramen, reminding herself that he was meant to grow up faster than her family, because his was always gone.
Once, she'd come home just in time for Christmas and wormed a solid three days of R&R out of the Missions Office. To celebrate, she'd taken Naruto out for a bowl of warm ramen, wrapping him up in a scarf and quizzing him on all she'd missed. He was usually quiet for the longest time, and it wasn't until she asked if he was upset that she understood.
"No, De-chan. I'm not upset."
"Then why won't you talk to me? I haven't seen you in ages! You always used to talk my ear off when I came home."
He scoffed and she wondered where he learned that. "Yeah, but that was when I was little. I'm alone all the time now, so I don't need to talk a lot."
"Your teacher say that you're quite the chatterbox in class," she teased.
He shrugged. "Yeah, but that's just so no one picks on me. It's always the quiet ones that get beat up. You should see Hinata-chan; she's always got bruises on her arms."
She decided not to mention that it probably wasn't Hinata's classmates that were giving her bruises.
"--And anyways, De-chan, half my stories are ones where you had to see it to get it, and you're never home so you never see all the cool stuff I do so I can't talk to you about it, you know?"
She bit back her hurt and nodded. He didn't mean it as a bad thing, she knew.
Still, it hurt to be hit with the truth.
Jihide never knew about the birthdays she missed, when no one was around to keep him inside. She never knew he'd learned the hard way—through the angry fists of drunken celebrators—that his birthday was the day when the villagers showed their true hatred for him, as they drank to the life of another blond soul.
She never knew how he'd learned that holidays were private events, marked only with the bruises of the public.
As time rolled on, Naruto seemed to forget about her.
He was enamored with the lovely Sakura, busy befriending and competing with the Uchiha heir, and spent his days practicing his jutsus as hard as he could.
She blamed it on her absences, but when she stayed in the village for any longer than a few days, the most she could do was get him to go with her for a bowl of Ichikiru's and tell her bits and pieces of his life. Then they'd walk back home in silence, him thinking about what adventures he'd have the next day, her mulling over all she'd missed.
They'd part at their separate doors and she'd give him a small gift—a jumpsuit of cheep orange material; some goggles so he could see when he explored the streams; a new set of sandals; a pile of hand-me-down clothes or blankets; just little things—and he'd peck her on the cheek and wish her an affectionate farewell, his eyes always distant.
It was all so...obligatory. Jihide's affection had never wavered for the child she'd taken as her own so long ago, but Naruto had grown up, grown bitter, and grown away from the woman who'd given him a lifetime of love that he could no longer remember.
The most he knew of her were faded memories of someone who smiled and hugged him good-bye, and for that, she could never blame him.
It eventually reached a point where there were no more ramen meetings and her smiles met his from afar.
He did not seek her out, and she respected that. Her responsibilities to him would never change though, and she nursed the hope that he would one day look back and remember who had loved him throughout his life, and if she was lucky, he would thank her.
On Jihide's sixteenth birthday, she bid Naruto a silent good-bye for the last time.
She didn't know it was good-bye, but she knew it would be a long time before they met again.
Her team was escorting a Rain ambassador to the village when they were bombarded with something very similar to flaming shurikin. Jihide never got a chance to find out what they really were; she went down with the dignitary in the first wave.
In her last moments on earth, Jihide reflected with a broken grin that if Konoha permitted Ninjas gravestones, hers would have read,
"In memory of Kioku Jihide—who gave and got nothing with a smile."
It was the one bitter thought she ever had towards those she loved.
Once, Jiriya asked Naruto who raised him and watched as the boy's face took on a crumpled frown.
"I don't know," he'd said, "But I guess they didn't care enough to stick around for very long."
Jihi deAt one's own expense
KiokuMemory
Sorry for the numerous page breaks.