When in Doubt

A Naruto one-shot by SerenePhenix

Disclaimer: Naruto by Masashi Kishimoto

The apartment was left in utter and complete silence. Well, that was not true entirely. Of course you could hear the people down on the streets through the windows, making their way along it, sand and small stones grinding on pavement. One of the faucets was leaky and every few seconds a drop would fall loudly onto the metal.

A small alarm clock was ticking away dispassionately as its digits showed that it was close to midnight. The figure of a small child silhouetted against the bright lights from the street lamps and neon advertising below his window.

It was way past the time any child should be up and about but the blond boy couldn't help himself. He was trying to win a game which was hopelessly lost before he had even begun it.

His sad baby-blue eyes roamed the road below, looking for a face that might match his. Then once he would spot it he would hide behind the door leading into the shabby little apartment he lived in and hide in a corner, giggling like the five year old he was and wait until a noise could be heard in the hallway with the staircase leading up here.

And he would sit and crouch for hours, telling himself that his father was just testing his patience. He did that everyday he told himself and if he just waited hard enough he surely would give up soon and then come in, because he would be too excited to see his only child.

And he would come in and look for his boy and once he found him he would take him in his arms and tell him again and again what a fine ninja he was going to be once he was old enough to enroll. And the boy would smile his brightest smile at the stranger with no face but with hair as blond as his.

Then his mother would follow, a bag with his favorite food in hand, apologizing for being late.

That was what Naruto Uzumaki usually imagined every single evening to keep himself busy and help him sleep better through another long night in a cold, silent apartment.

Yet today the little boy found it increasingly difficult to look outside the window with the same vigor and dedication as the night prior.

He stared hard, his brow furrowing more with every ticking of the clock, feeling a growing pain welling up in his chest and growing stronger and stronger as he desperately tried to tell himself that the man on that left corner seemed to have hair as spiky as his. But the thought was dismissed as soon as the man turned around, revealing the face of the very same ninja that had kicked sand his way when he had tried to approach his little son.

His shoulders sagged but then he spotted some guy near a shop with blue eyes but brown hair. It was lying flat against his skull and when he went down the road never even sparing a glance towards the run-down building, Naruto felt his chest constrict.

Confused he brought a hand away from the smooth glass and put it on the area where it hurt. There were no cuts and bruises from when he had fallen during his play or when those boys had ambushed him on the playground.

Tears welled up in his eyes as their words still echoed around his head and the empty space that was his home.

"No one wants you!", they had shouted, one of the older boys grabbing the ball he had played with a moment prior and aiming at his face with more force than necessary. He had hit and Naruto had stumbled back, landing on his rear.

His eyes were watering as he hiccupped, looking at the by-standing adults pleadingly but they just averted their gaze as though none of them had seen or even worse sneered at him. They always did that and Naruto felt shattered and angry every time they did so.

Because he didn't know why.

But the older kids hadn't had enough and the biggest of them, a pudgy boy with slanted eyes, had towered over him while prodding him hard in his chest with one of his fingers.

"Even your parents did not want you! That's why you're all alone. They left you because you're so stupid."

The boy's friends behind him had broken out into cackling laughter.

In that moment something had been ignited inside his heart but it was different from the times when the old grandpa would come by and visit him. That always felt good but in that very moment it had felt not right. It made him feel like crying even more, like shouting out loud, like kicking this mean kid that was making fun of him and telling things that weren't true.

"You are lying!", he had screeched while throwing himself onto the boy, pounding his little fists on the soft and flabby stomach beneath him, "My daddy and mommy will come back soon, they just went away but they will be back."

He had always told himself that; That his daddy and mommy were just away and very busy with dangerous ninja stuff and that they had been on a mission ever since he could remember. It had to be this way. Parents liked their kids so the only reason why no one was home had to be that they had to work.

Why else would they not be here, when he was feeling so sad? Thick tears fell from his eyes as he remembered how that boy's mother had roughly shoved him away from her boy, telling him to get away from him.

She had dusted the meany off, taken him and his friends by the hands and gone away, fussing over him like he had been badly hurt. Naruto had sat on the sandy ground for a moment longer, searching the wire-fence for someone he hoped would be there to greet him and tell him that everything was alright and that he would later punish that boy ninja-style.

But as he kept looking and finding nothing but hard eyes scrutinizing him, he felt his lower lip tremble. Slowly he got up on his own, dusted himself down and looked for his green ball. But it was gone – one of the kids had already taken it. No one had protested or told him not to take someone else's property away.

He had not wanted to cry in front of these people, so he had turned around and sprinted away from the playground and back to his apartment.

Ever since he had curled up in the blankets of his bed and sat by the window.

He had waited for so long he couldn't even remember when he had even started this habit. His eyes caught sight of a woman with her child, both holding hands and sharing what looked like sweets.

He felt his throat clenching, the hateful words repeating inside his head and shattering the already very little hope he had.

The kid was right. Where were his mommy and daddy? Why hadn't they come back? Grandpa never told him anything so he had always thought that it had to do with cool ninja secrets. Since everyone needed a mommy and a daddy he had thought that he had them too and mommies and daddies liked their children. That's why he never even bothered to think that maybe his parents did not like him and did not want to spend time with him on purpose.

He sniffed loudly. If that was true… but… no, that could not be true! Parents loved their children. He saw it every day on the streets, in the park, on the playground, by the swings, near the river. He saw everywhere that daddies and mommies would greet the older children when they exited the academy or school or the kindergarten. When those other children fell and scraped their knees they would come and pat them on the head and tell them it was okay.

His sniffles grew into tiny sobs.

But where were his mommy and daddy? Why did they not come home in all the time he had been waiting? He had been a good boy and had been patient. He had never complained. He had even tried to put away all his stuff because that's what other kids were supposed to do at home. Parents liked that.

So, why did they not come home?

Was it really his fault? Did his parents really hate him like the other villagers did?

His sobs became loud wails that could be heard throughout the whole building with its paper-thin walls. None of the neighbors bothered to go and look if something was wrong.

It was a common occurrence after all.

An elderly man was on his way to an old looking apartment complex a bit further away from the center of the town. No one recognized him as the leader of their hidden village, the Third Hokage, since he was in more civil attire plus hat and dark glasses.

He did not want people to stop him and engage into what would undoubtedly become a longer conversation. There was a more pressing matter that needed his attention.

He had gotten word from the Anbus who were watching over the rascal of the village that said boy had locked himself into his apartment for the last week and a half. Sarutobi had not been concerned for the first three days.

It would not be the first time that Naruto had not left his apartment. He did it frequently on the 10th of October, not by own choice but because it was for his own safety. Sarutobi had always made sure that he could come on that day for at least a few minutes.

But since it was the end of August, he could bar that possibility.

The villagers might not see that child behind their veil of fear but he did and what he saw made his heart heavier than any burden he could have imagined. No one should feel unwanted on the day of their birth but some villagers often made it one of their greatest pleasures to remind the child of it.

Sarutobi had made sure he never would have to find a bruised and crying Naruto in that apartment ever again – with the help of the Anbus and the specific order to prevent any sort of physical harm the villagers might have in mind.

Sarutobi sighed. As brave as Minato and Kushina had been, they had left their child and him with burdens they could not have measured at the time. Not fully at least.

But that was not the problem at hand. What truly had him worried was the fact that the boy had not left for groceries or even bothered to take the two bags of food that had been deposited in front of his door (an arrangement made to avoid unnecessary confrontation between the boy and the villagers until he was old enough).

Considering the habits of the boy when it came to storing food, Sarutobi was ready to bet that Naruto had not eaten anything in the last few days and he did not the expertise of a medic-nin to tell that that was not good for the boy's or anybody's health.

When he ascended the staircase he involuntarily wrinkled his nose at the stench that assaulted him from above. It smelled like milk having gone sour which it probably had.

And indeed, once he was in front of the apartment door he could see the two bags still standing on the porch. Flies and a few other bugs had claimed them as their own. It probably had gone bad the second day it had been left there. The last summer heat must have done what it could best. No one had bothered to remove them despite the smell.

Sarutobi, though disgusted, concentrated on the more troubling aspect of that revelation. He approached the door and knocked lightly on it. He waited patiently but there was no answer from the other side.

He tried turning the door-knob but found it locked. Sarutobi felt his stomach drop through the timber and floor beneath his feet. The door was never locked; the boy was far too careless to do so.

"Naruto?", he shouted but again, was only greeted by silence.

He rattled the door one last time before going to the edge of the open hallway. There was a balcony the boy rarely used and with a bit of luck it would be unlocked. Concentrating on his small target Sarutobi leapt onto the unsteady construction, the boards creaking under his weight. There still came no sound from the other side of the heavy wooden door.

Determinedly the Third Hokage pushed the door aside to his great relief.

It was short-lived, once he stepped inside. The air was stale, as if no window had been opened for weeks. The curtains were drawn together, letting no light inside. What came as a sudden surprise was the chaos that had erupted since the last time since he had visited.

Clothes, toys and papers were strewn on the floor. The plants the boy so liked to take care of were showing signs of welting, their once fresh green leaves slowly turning yellow and drooping.

Sarutobi looked around confounded. He had never seen the place so untidy. Usually Naruto would keep the place cleaner than most single adults in Konoha – something Sarutobi had found quite astonishing and remarkable. It had been proof whose son the boy was.

Right now he was reminded of a younger Kushina.

Although he probably would have further inspected the room, he soon was transfixed by the covers of the bed that were moving slightly. He did not waste another moment and strode towards it, pulling back the covers briskly.

A feeble squeal came from them and once they were gone revealed the form of a child.

Sarutobi's breath hitched as he got a good look at his charge (or more precisely Jiraya's. He had tried to contact the Sannin and make Naruto's godfather return here to assume his responsibility but his student never even bothered to reply. It left Sarutobi with a bad after-taste in his mouth.)

The Fourth Hokage's son was lying on the mattress, cuddling himself while shivering uncontrollably. What worried the old man most though were the glazed, lifeless eyes staring at nothing in particular.

Endless minutes dragged on in which Sarutobi was too shocked to move and the boy too out of it to notice that he wasn't alone anymore, despite having had the covers ripped away from him.

"Naruto?", Sarutobi asked, his voice gentle and bending forward. He quickly put his hand on the boy's forehead and found it to be not as warm as he had expected. It was a sliver of hope but it did not answer any of the other questions swirling around his head in an incomprehensible mess.

It took that physical contact to make the child snap out of his lightheaded state. Weakly Naruto slapped his hand away, before burying his face back in the mattress, grumbling tiredly.

Weren't he such a patient man, Sarutobi would have hauled the boy out of bed and taken him to the hospital this instant. But he knew that this was nothing pills and a trip to the medical facility could cure: He knew no one starved themselves for any good reason and he was determined to get to the bottom of this.

He and the village owed it to Minato ad Kushina and to the child before him as well.

"What is wrong?"

It was a simple question and Sarutobi was not sure if Naruto even had the presence of mind to give him a sensible answer but to his great surprise the child began sniveling miserably.

"My mommy and daddy won't… won't come back home.", the boy whimpered, his grip on the cloth beneath him tightening to the point it turned his knuckles white.

Sarutobi's heart skipped a beat at those words.

Big, fat tears escaped between the lashes of Naruto's closed eyes as he went on, his voice sounding like an old man's from lack of moisture in his mouth.

"I waited for them every night but…", a loud hiccup interrupted the boy's speech and it took him a moment to gather himself again. All the while Sarutobi, who had seated himself on the bed, gently stroked the boy's back, although it was not clear if the latter was fully aware of it, "My daddy and mommy are never here."

The Third became more and more distraught. He had never given this issue much thought. There had been no apparent reason to. Naruto had always seemed mildly interested at best and had not asked further questions whenever he got vague answers when his parents were mentioned.

Sarutobi had always assumed that given time, the boy would come to him when he wanted to find out more about his origins. It was a fatal mistake on his part. The boy had kept those thoughts to himself, harming himself in the process.

What truly threw Sarutobi off, were the next words coming out of the boy's mouth, the young face twisted by an agony no person his age should ever experience:

"They hate me. My mommy and daddy hate me! That's why they won't come home!"

On a whim or by parental instinct Sarutobi scooped the harshly sobbing child into his arms. Naruto grasped the fabric of the simple jacket he was wearing, hiding his face in the older man's chest.

Picking up where he had left off with the soothing circles, Sarutobi rocked the boy in an effort to quench some of the loneliness and hopelessness the young one was experiencing.

"That's not true, I assure you. Your parents loved you with all their heart.", he whispered gently as he combed through the mop of blond, spiky hair. The child in his arms did not stop crying but did at least try look up at him. The puffy red eyes stared at him, daring him to betray the trust that was put into him and imploring him to make everything right again.

"What's it then?", Naruto asked, as he got no further explanation, making him irritable or more than he already was, "Some boys told me my mommy and daddy did not come home because of me."

The childish voice was so desperate it tore at the man's soul.

"It is not your fault they won't come home.", Sarutobi replied, dreading what he was going to say next, upon catching a spark of hope lightning those blue eyes. He did not want to be the one to smother it.

"Naruto, your parents will not come home, because,", his own throat tightened as he willed himself to finish the sentence, "because your parents are dead."

The boy's face became blank as he stared disbelievingly at the man holding him tight. Naruto knew what dead meant. People had shouted similar words his way and when he had asked grandpa to explain them to him.

'Dead' meant that somebody was gone and would never come back. He had been right. He was at fault.

Sarutobi became frantic as the boy's wailing grew in intensity and he could tell it was not from what he expected it to be. He did not have to ask any questions to clarify what was wrong because Naruto gave him the answers unknowingly.

"So… so I'm... I'm really", another hiccup, "My parents left because of me."

The last word was dragged out as a cry. Sarutobi despite the years of tragedy, the many battles and wounded he had seen, felt his eyes water. This was born not solely from the boy's constant solitude but from the resentment and fear of the people in Konoha. His village. The thought that it was the people of this very village that praised itself on so many occassions for its acceptance of others, had made a child doubt their own place in this world, was terrifying and repulsive.

"No. Oh god, Naruto. No. It never was your fault.", Sarutobi assured, a slight quiver in his voice, "Your parents left because they loved you."

Naruto was not comforted by those words and Sarutobi knew he had to approach this devastating issue from another angle entirely.

"Naruto, do you remember what I told you about the ninja's of our village?"

He felt the bundle in his arms nod, the wet spot on his chest growing in size still but at least he had the boy's attention again. His love for ninjas was unequaled which the Third Hokage found to be very ironic – it was those very same ninjas that treated the boy the worst.

"The ninjas protect our village by doing missions. Some of those missions are very dangerous and some people even die.", he went on, patting the boy on the head. He noticed how slowly the crying subsided and only hiccups remained.

"Your parents died protecting the village and by doing so protected you.", the old man revealed and in his arms he could feel the child growing limp from exhaustion – physical and mental, enhanced further because of the starvation he had made himself suffer.

"You were loved by both of them. I know that if they could, they would spend every day by your side."

He felt pleased with himself when Naruto finally managed to calm down though he would never know whether it was because he had understood that Sarutobi had meant what he had said or because his body was too spent to continue any strenuous activity. The man would never know.

As he got up with the sickly boy in a firm hold, he swore he heard a small 'thank you' emanating from the wrinkles in his jacket. He had only told the boy to go to sleep until they would arrive at the hospital.

That day was the first and last time Sarutobi witnessed Minato's and Kushina's child doubting their love for him.

He also never ever saw the apartment tidy again.

I do not know what this is but I do know it is sad. Strange… on Halloween people usually write something scary but instead I write something sad and depressing.

Yeah, it does have a good ending, but the theme remains a sad one.

What actually inspired me to write this was the song "Papaoutai" by the Belgian singer Stromae. It is such a great song… I burst into tears the first time I heard it.

Anyway, I hope you still could enjoy this. Happy Halloween!

-SP (31.10.2013)