Unseen Guardians
Look at me.
I don't care if you hate me, loathe me.
Just look at me.
Don't pretend I don't exit, that I am nothing.
Just look at me.
Shadows moved back and forth in front of a swing, indifferent to the small figure slouched in its seat.
I am lonely.
Why do they ignore me?
What have I done wrong?
Why did my parents abandon me?
I do not understand.
Other children spared the blonde child curious looks, before being pulled away by their parents.
Go home, your eyes said. You don't belong here.
What home? I want to say. No one is waiting for me back home.
Scram, you seemed to say. Why do you exist?
That is a good question. Why do I exist?
Unable to stand the feeling of hopelessness, the five-year-old Naruto dashed out of the Academy grounds and slipped past the houses into a heavily wooded area, south of the main Konoha district. People stepped out of his way, as if he was a monster.
He did not see where he was going.
He did not stop.
Even so, no tears came. He remained smiling.
He was lost.
Ancient trees surrounded him on all sides. Occasional streams of light pierced through the thick canopy and glanced off the leaves.
Naruto did not panic. On the contrary, he felt calm. The trees offer a strange sense of comfort, shielding him with their great branches. A gentle wind explored his face, as if greeting a familiar friend. Birds cocked their heads to one side curiously, appraising him with their dark beady eyes.
He was not alone.
There was a presence within the forest. It was steeped within the ancient pines, within the stream that made whirlpools as it danced along its way. It was with the wind as it swirled around him, bringing to him a faint fragrance he could not realize.
"Hello?" Naruto asked, bewildered.
There was no answer, yet the streams continued to murmur lovingly as the wind curled around him comfortingly.
Naruto found a sunny patch of grass near the stream and lied down. He imagined that the voice of the stream was a lullaby and that the warmth of the sun was the smile of the parents he never knew.
"Don't go," he muttered, half asleep.
His mind did not comprehend what he heard next, for he was already asleep.
We will stay. The wind, the stream, the sun, whispered.
"I thought I told you to watch him,"
Although the third Hokage's voice was even-tempered, the men before him flinched.
"I apologize, Hokage-sama," one man ventured to speak first. "I have not anticipated that he would escape the notice of the Academy teachers and relaxed our vigilance."
The Sandaime waved his hand dismissively. "
"Apologies solve nothing," the Hokage's voice was icy.
"Find him."
After the men had bowed and left, Sarutobi sighed and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his temples.
He has had no success in convincing the villagers that Naruto is a hero. They disregarded the wishes of the Fourth Hokage, who had sacrificed his life to save them, as well as his own command that Naruto be treated with respect.
His order was futile.
He glanced regretfully at the picture of the Yondaime. Unlike the frame hung near the entrance of the Hokage building, the Yondaime in this picture was smiling.
"I am sorry, Minato," the old man said sadly. "I have failed you."
Tapping his fingers against his desk, the Hokage thought quickly. It was clear that the men he had assigned to watch over Naruto neglected their charge on purpose. He would not risk having them watch Naruto again.
But who could he replace them with?
Younger ninja, who have not felt the full brunt of the Kyuubi attack and hopefully harbour less hatred, do not have the potential to protect Naruto in case of an attack.
Neither do chunin.
Jounin are ideal, yet they poise a more serious problem. With their skill, they could easily kill Naruto and orchestrate the deed as an accident, as child mortality during wartime is common. Iwagakure has taken advantage of the Yondaime's death and constantly assaults the Fire Country's borders.
Now doubt they want revenge, the Third Hokage thought drily. Likely they wanted to assasinate the Fourth, yet was outraged that he died before they could carry out their vengeance.
Worse, they are now after Naruto, a demon vessel who could be an assessment to their return to power after a savage defeat during the Third Ninja War.
Sarutobi sighed again. It is a shame that Minato's teammates died soon after the Kyuubi attack, during the renewed conflict with Iwagakure. Otherwise, he would have entrusted Naruto to them and never have to worry about their trustworthiness. Their bonds with Minato were enough to prove their loyalty.
Had they been alive, Naruto would be able to have a more decent upbringing.
Sarutobi shook his head. There is no use wishing for the impossible.
He had hoped that Jiraiya would be able to help, yet Sandaime could not deny his student's request to leave after the deaths of all three of his students.
There is only once choice left then. It would be a sacrifice, especially in a time of conflict, and the Konoha Council would hound his decision for months.
Sandaime slammed his hand on the table. A masked shinobi was instantly before him. He knelt on one knee, awaiting directions from the Hokage, the only one he will take orders from.
Anbu.
It was when night fell that the realization of his situation sank in.
Panic was rising in him. The last of twilight was already sinking below the horizon, and the shadows of trees, so amiable a moment ago, seemed grotesque and frightening. He fought back tears. Even here, when no one is near, he refused to cry.
Soon, the moon rose, and temperature dropped. Naruto shivered and hugged himself.
Naruto was strolling aimlessly when something brough his heart to his throat.
The familiar presence was back, in the form of a breeze that warmed his body. It circled around him like a blanket.
The stream chortled merrily.
Follow me, it seemed to say.
Absently, Naruto began trekking alongside the little stream, while the wind continued to circle around him and whistling tunes of encouragement, pushing him from behind when he hesitated.
No cloud obscured the bright moon, which seemed to want to pour all its energy into lighting the way for the blonde child.
About half an hour later, Naruto could see, through the thin row of trees ahead, the deserted streets of Konoha.
Relieved, he ran, with the wind tailing him.
As he fumbled with the doorknob, Naruto suddenly realized how cold it was. He did not notice when the wind had left him, and when it did, the temperature seemed to have dropped several degrees. Shivering, he threw open the door and hurriedly went in, shutting out the cold.
"Thank you," he said to no one.
In the middle of the night, Naruto stirred as an invisible form adjusted his blankets. A substantial hand stroked his hair.
Despite the lethargy, Naruto could hear two distinct voices, one male, deep and sonorous, and one female, gentle and mild.
You are loved.
A/N: Yes, a random idea that came to me when I was supposed to be doing homework. XD
My logic is that people who had been close to Minato would have known that Naruto is his son. What I don't understand is that how can they ignore him during his childhood, so I innovated upon the idea that they are dead. It seemed more humane. Otherwise, this is too cruel a world.
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