Chapter 1
He took there, on his tip toes, trying to keep still as the chair wobbled dangerously. With skilled precision, the little boy managed to keep from toppling onto the hard cement floor. Small chubby hands perched on the window sill, keeping a tight grip just in case the chair decided to spill. At least he would be hanging onto the window, cushioning his fall even by a little.
Blond spiky hair barely peeped out of the window as the child attempted to peek out yet stay hidden. From where he stood, he could see his breath mist up the dirty window pane. Wiping it childishly, he only to managed to leave smudgy prints instead. But he did not care as he took in the view that he never grew tired of.
The small window of the flats just across his own gave him a view of the kitchen. A woman was smiling and the child could see her mouth moving as she twisted towards someone unseen, smiling. He imagined her voice would be soft and her laughter would ring like the wind chimes he sometimes heard when the wind was blowing softly. She laid out the plates she had been carrying and soon, the lonely child knew that a man would come towards the small table that they had followed by two children around his age.
He knew the small children from the playground where he would goof around, making them laugh as he pretended to be clumsy and goofed around. He knew when sunset was nearly upon them, the time he dreaded most, their father would come to take home. He knew the man's voice was deep and stern and he would always pretend not to see the cold look thrown towards his direction.
True enough, the children were now sitting on the chairs around the table and the man came into view, his hands on the woman's shoulder and his mouth moving in a silent speech. His head turned towards the window as he made his way around to the sink located just in front of their window and the small peeping child panicked. Quickly, he ducked down, forgetting that he was standing on the wobbly chair and he fell with a great crash.
The small child lay on the cold floor, the only source of light in his apartment coming from the window he had been peeping from, disoriented. The pain of landing on his side blurred his vision and his head throbbed.
His chin wobbled as his vision blurred and he felt the tears in his eyes. The pain from his fall was negligible. The pain in his heart hurt more. Clutching his chest, he curled up, the tears squeezing past his closed lids. Hot tears streamed down his chubby cheeks, stubborn and burning as his lips wobbled.
He wanted all of that! It was not fair! He wanted someone to love him. He wanted a father who would pick him up when he was tired. He wanted a mother who would cook warm meals for their family and sing songs for him on nights when he had nightmares. He wanted a father's stern approval when he did good and scold him when he did wrong. He wanted to come home to a warmly lit home. He wanted to hear the welcoming greeting when he came back home. He just wanted people who loved him and people who would never let him go.
All he knew was this cold apartment and this loneliness.
The lonely little child curled up into a smaller ball under the dim light coming from the window and he let himself cry because he was always alone and he didn't know why.
Naruto woke up, tasting the ashes of his past in his mouth, lingering bitterly. The view of white ceiling of his apartment which had greeted him ever since he could recall hit him like a wall. The corner of his eyes felt crusty as he blinked. Rubbing at his eyes, he felt the lingering wetness from his dream. Cursing softly, he rolled out of the bed, eyes straying towards the window where he had once peeped from, the memory mocking him.
Tearing his eyes from the window, the dream of the memory lingering (aching, tearing, bleeding) his eyes instead fell to the little inconspicuous notebook at his chipped bedside table. Opening it, he let his eyes fall onto the words, sighing as he read through it. Done, he shut it softly, hands clenching a bit too tightly for a moment on the little pieces of paper bound together.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the dream (memory, his mind whispered softly) away, locking the little boy who longed so painfully for a family in the deep recess of his heart.
Jumping up suddenly, he grinned widely, ready to tackle on the day. If the edges of his smile wobbled for a moment, he pretended not to feel it. If his hands trembled softly over the little window sill (it had always been so tall when he was younger, an insurmountable distance to his eyes), he pretended he was brushing off the dust.
He was here, another new day and he could no longer afford to look back to the sad and lonely boy he had been. Right now, he had another day to conquer and for the moment, for today, it was enough. It was enough.