Kurama—001

I do not own Naruto, nor Kurama, not whoever else appears in the story who is not an OC of sorts.

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A big, orange, furry snout twitched.

A black nose inched sideways, just a little, taking in the all-too-familiar smell of sewage water, a scent that he was sure he had abandoned a long time ago. It burnt his nose, filed his senses, like a wrathful fog of sorts, bringing back unpleasant memories of days filled with unadulterated abhorrence for the boy who would become his only ally later on.

There was the sound of rhythmically dripping water, an eternal torture he had only been too glad to rid himself of, and yet here it was again, right beside his ears—and it was in that moment that Kurama knew he couldn't deny it any more.

Slowly, ever so slowly, an eye opened, reluctantly scanning its surroundings. Crimson irises contracted in response to the darkness, flashing brilliant vermillion against the backdrop of unidentifiable colours, painted by a man who somehow decided that 'trash' was a good motif to use.

Then the eyelids snapped back in shock, almost bloodshot in undiluted horror as it took in its surroundings—the old scene of pooling, polluted water, the multitude of rusty bars that kept him caged in for sixteen years before he was let out, and the broken seal that locked him up until he had freed him...

'Wait, broken?' Kurama stood up, all of his nine tails flailing in uncharacteristic panic and unbridled confusion.

"Shit."

"U-um…" A meek voice quivered, and Kurama froze, stiff with apprehension, at how damn familiar it sounded.

Don'tlookdon'tlookdon'tyoudarefuckinglook—

Kurama looked.

Dammit.

In front of him, stood a boy. Kurama stared—stared at the blonde hair, the short stature, the wide blue eyes, and the haunting whisker marks that made up his favourite container of all time—but it was wrong, because his container, because Naruto, was not, by any means, midget sized (not after that growth spurt of his), and because this child in front of him didn't have a shred of orange on him, and because—because—

A six year old boy stared up at him. Kurama grimaced, sending a forced smile at the kid.

Instead of the warm smile he most certainly did not expect back, the boy began crying his eyes out.

Well, fuck.

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Well, there's the first chapter. Super short. Hurrah. I SWEAR THE NEXT CHAPTERS WILL BE LONGER. Pinky promise.