AN/ So this was written years ago, I pulled it from a dusty folder and decided I might like to share it with you
He was a damaged good. He knew it, they knew it; heck it had been thrown in his face every miserable day of his existence. But if there was one thing he knew, it was that just because anything was damaged did not mean it was necessarily broken. (Just how many times had he found salvageable goods that had just needed a little love, thrown away into the trash that served him well?) But the repair had always been tough, with the physical object al least. The mental and emotional stuff was especially arduous.
'Dark' Naruto, though it seemed so long ago since he had faced him under the waterfall in Kumo, what with the war, training and the fight for lives, had struck him in a profound way. 'Dark' Naruto had been a mirror image of the old Gaara, no, he was worse. Gaara had been influenced by the Ichibi, had been betrayed and feared. He was able to find respite in his insanity, in his killings for vindication of his existence. Dark Naruto had none of that. That was the part of him that hated. It hated everything; any good that came his way was always under suspicion and subjected to aggressive behavior. It was vengeful and cunning, shaped by years of scorn and hatred, of purposeful price risings, and exacerbated tests by spiteful teachers.
He reflected, if he hadn't had oji-san, or Iruka's intervention, it was quite likely he would have spiraled down in that direction. What he made his personality would have as much a mask as those the ANBU wear, and at first it even had been. He had been so eager to please; he had tried everything to achieve even an iota of respect, affection, anything really, from the village commons. The perfect student had been awarded with fear and scorn, not to mention it had been hard when everyone had done their best to hamper his efforts. The spoiled brat act had been given pure disdain and didn't work out so well with his 'audience'. He might have tried bookish if he had been able to sit still for so long or had been allowed into the public library. Pranking had been a last resort, the pranks themselves genuine, and the maliciousness with them true. He had been shocked when he had given them his broadest grin and puppy eyes they had been too annoyed to hate, and attention too occupied to ignore him. That was the start of his collective mask. The idiot persona, with experience, lowered their guards, and though he was spited and scorned, they forgot to hate him. That was exactly what the pranks had become, after that. Oh, sure he had wanted attention, what child didn't? But his goal in making every one of those pranks had been revenge, a part of his now flawless mask. Petty however it may have been. The painting of the Hokage monuments? That was to get back at the entire village when there were too many to specifically target.
If Iruka hadn't come along that year, Konoha would have been one protector short, training with its Sannin or no. Of course, he likely would have stayed a Konoha shinobi if only for baa-chan. Though admittedly if had not been influenced as he had, he would have been more likely to join her then try to drag her back and convince her to be Hokage.
That was another thing; dark Naruto had no desire to be hokage. It was rather of a one track mind like Sasuke, which had been a deciding factor in its decimation. All of those feelings of resentment and hatred were too much work to hold onto. With each smile of a civilian, and looks of awe and praise wherever they came from, he was vindicated that much more with each and every one he recieved. He was, in fact, almost there; Hokage was not such a long shot. The Kyu- no, Kurama and the rest had just been misunderstood just like he had been, and as he faced down the masked man, he felt so light, so fresh and at ease as he fought for his home knowing he was wanted, he could not help but know that whatever happened, this victory was his.