A Boy and A Demon
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Summary: Kurama is a demon, a monster. Naruto is a boy, an orphan. Yet Konoha sees no distinction. 'Good,' Kurama thinks, 'let them call him a monster, a demon. Let him break. Let him break and drown in his own loneliness and the hollowness of his heart', ignoring the voice in his head that says 'then that will make the two of us'.
Genre: frrrrieenddshipp
An: Kyuubi's POV, No warnings other than the usual Konoha citizens being intolerant and delusional, oh, Kurama swears. Deleted my old account and decided to tinkle with the stories that I still liked. This one was my favourite then and still is, regardless of how many errors there were when I reread it OTL.
A Demon.
Nine, to be exact. However his master never called him, or them, that. They were his and he was theirs. Their master completed them, and vice versa.
He was the largest part of the nine however they were small, so small - too small.
Looking at the leader in yearning, Kyuubi, Kurama to be exact, let out a pitiful whine. The rest of the pack were no better off. Their master, creator, father was leaving them. Sage of the six paths, creator of all, found love within the monster who Kurama and his siblings continuously call themselves.
.
.
The parting wasn't teary.
But with all the emotions they never knew they had, they held it back into their blackened voids, the mountain that their father calls hearts.
As they were pulled into the wilderness of a world they never knew, each of the nine split up by the orders of the Sage.
.
.
.
Over time, they adjusted. They adjusted, their memories never forgotten.
Unfortunately, hearts burned aflame, and feelings and emotions turned to ashes. Scattered by the wind. Slowly and slowly, they faded, because fading with the cold on the outside is greatly more merciful than the cold on the inside, even though their chakra-charged bodies remained.
They were alone, scattered and so hollow.
.
.
.
He feels the cold return to him once more, blossoming inside his chest.
This time it was cold rage. Over the years, he lost himself, yes, but definitely not his pride nor power.
So who was a human, the 'Yondaime' to not only stand a chance against him – Kurama, the strongest of the nine, but to also bind him, control him, cage him? He, Kurama, had already accepted to be bent once, by one who calls himself Madara Uchiha.
Yet to be defeated twice, by worthless, pitiful fools who go by the name of his Master's creations?
Lies.
He growled, deep in his throat, and struggled against the restraints with renewed vigour.
Lies.
His tails smashed and destroyed everything they touched; the village almost in shambles. He took great pleasure in seeing the blond human's worry and strife.
LIES.
They do not deserve to be associated, not then, not now, not in light years, to the Sage of the Six paths.
And suddenly, Yondaime didn't seem so sure of the sealing, especially with the slight widening of the Shinigami's eyes in recognition of the Kyuubi's power.
But in the end the Death God's power rose within the chains. In the end, the Shinigami prevailed, and Kurama finds himself once again trapped in a cold limbo.
A hideous, pitiful prison.
.
.
.
He likes to watch the villagers handle his blasted vessel. Enjoyment swells within him as he sees them softly break the little blond child, which such uncanny resemblance to the Yondaime. He wonders if it has become a hobby, seeing the little boy being bruised little by little, cut down by harsh words, treatment and prejudice.
It serves him right, Kurama thinks.
And yet, after taking in so much, he still sees the kid rebound, with persistence - the child continuing to be himself. Happy, cheerful and carefree, as if the twisted treatment from Konoha as a whole cannot stop him nor his will.
Kurama sneers at that, except with no real emotion. He grows restless within this shell, and the pain of his host will not serve to entertain him forever. He feels restless and frustrated, however he knows that he will be free - one way or the other.
Sooner or later, he thinks to himself, before drifting off once again into hibernated slumber.
.
.
.
It is an accident. The day Naruto meets Kurama, or rather, feels him.
Naruto hurts, cuts and bruises painted the limbs of his small, lanky frame. Not that that was unusual, as it happens regularly, Kurama notes. However, instead of finding pleasure in his host's pain, it fades to a dull throb in his chest.
After discovering his presence, Naruto begins to talk to himself and it takes weeks for Kurama to realise that Naruto is talking to him, the Kyuubi. The Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, the King of Flames. The brat is only five, yet he looks upon a demon such as Kurama without so much as a bat of an eyelash.
.
.
.
It must have been one of the worse cases of injury, or 'accidents' Kyuubi pondered to himself as he stares at the wide-eyed, blue-iris, blond child standing, trembling in front of his prison. The kid's body is bruised, with deep gashes and Kyuubi vaguely wonders why he isn't healed yet, and then remembers his retraction of his chakra around the kid's body. He had wanted the brat to suffer, hadn't he? And yet.
Why is he suddenly so unsure? A small seed of guilt is planted within his being.
At first, they just stare at each other. Seconds passes, then onto minutes before the child runs straight up to his prison, a hair's breadth away from his claws, the poles and the seal.
He could have lifted a paw, or both, and injure the boy - a small payback for what the brat's father has reduced him to. Except he doesn't, and they continue to stare, however the brat's breathing faster and honestly, Kurama doesn't like the wild, hopeful smile pasted onto the blonde's face. The possibility that maybe he wasn't so alone after all fuelling the pounding of his little heart.
It makes him feel uneasy inside although he doesn't know why. It was just a feeling of many that a demon like him couldn't discern.
The kid talks to him, but Kurama doesn't reply, just stares, willing the kid to be gone, but the kid doesn't get the message and just stays. Talking.
First Naruto introduces himself, his name and what he likes.
Ramen ramen ramen.
And oh god, the kid looked so pathetic, so sad, so desperate to finally have a friend - with the bruises around his face, arms, and legs – the whole of his body and a black eye. Yet the kid, the stupid, dumbass kid, Naruto, is smiling.
Brat's missing a tooth, whether due to natural loss or because of the villagers, Kurama did not know. He has a feeling he doesn't want to know, and not just because he doesn't care.
Kyuubi knows that he would be fucking lying to himself if he says the scene in front of him isn't fucking heartbreaking at all.
He feels the uncharacteristic guilt bloom within himself, and his throat goes dry. The emotions swirling inside him like an uncontrollable maelstrom, almost feeling alien within him. And he feels scared, so scared - for all the wrong reasons.
His voice doesn't seem to be functioning. For the moment, he feels as if he was coudn't talk even if he tried, so he settles for staying silent, again. Naruto is silent as well now, however he is still there, clumsy fingers clutching a large pole, as he stares up intently at the Nine-Tailed Demon with his sharp claws, scary face, sharp fangs and glowing eyes.
Kurama half cringes in remembrance of his own past but at least he wasn't alone; he had his master and the others.
He wasn't alone.
But now he is , he notes. And so is Naruto.
Immediately dispelling his thoughts and where they traitorously led him, Kyuubi growls to himself.
Lending his Chakra to Naruto, Kyuubi sees the boy gasp in surprise as the crimson energy flowed around the brat, healing all his wounds with twisted, miasmic taint.
Kyuubi dispels the brat from his prison before awkward gratitude rears its head however later that night, Kurama hears Naruto thanking him, laughing about being friends and him being his first one.
Dear god, Kyuubi thinks to himself, what have I done?
.
.
.
The first mistake he makes, as generic as it sounds, was to let Naruto get close to him, as in his mind and heart of hearts, Kurama knows that he cannot handle any positive emotions for humans.
Sometimes he talks to Naruto, sometimes he just remains silent. As they were unknowingly warm within their company, Kyuubi still reminds himself daily to not to get close to the child. Do not get close to the child. Do not get close to the child. He repeats it and repeats it, hoping and hoping.
Like a mantra.
He doesn't grow close enough to Naruto for comfort, regardless with the brat's relentless attempts. Still, he doesn't correct Naruto when he calls them friends.
The emotions slowly weaselling inside him by the blonde's effort – the familiarity and peculiarity grow scaringly close and as the gap between them slowly disappear, Kurama knows, he just knows, that somehow, in some way, in some time, his impulsiveness would ruin everything.
And for once, he was praying for the mercy of fate, praying for Naruto, rather than the sake of himself.
'Dear whatever miserable, pitiful excuses of deity civillians have...'
Because he knew that ninjas had none, that they didn't believe in heaven.
Only hell.
.
.
.
His foreshadowing wasn't for naught, as he feels the foundations of the fickle friendship he had built with Naruto shatter within mere moments of truth. Although they were both at fault, it was mainly his.
He lashes out in fear of Naruto's rejection and possible hatred at the discovery of Kurama being a demon. The catalyst of what made Naruto the most hated being in Konoha.
For what everything was worth, Kurama, the fucking idiot, he calls himself now, only realises this after he lashes out at naruto, that there was no way Naruto would do such a thing. None the less, he had lashed out with claws and words, harsh, condescending tones ringing, echoing in the sewers.
It is only after what he has done that he sees the betrayal and sadness build up into Naruto's eyes and descend as tears. Kurama feels his own eyes widen and before he gets his pride out of its way to apologise, the kid leaves.
God. Kurama croaks.
The boy was only fucking six.
.
.
.
Kurama feels his heart hurt, as if sharp spikes of a thousand mountain-length spears has pierced through his chest. He barks a canine, humourless laugh, full of loathing and self-deprecation. How fate hates our two souls, Kurama curses, when realization only comes after the mortal blow.
Loneliness, the cold, the hollowness. What Naruto has cured of them both.
The talking, everything. Was it for him? The answer is obvious, Kurama murmurs to himself.
His eyes feels hot and stuffy.
He looks at the crumpled form once more.
And everything washes to him as if the mist was washed away with clear, salted water.
Everything hurts and everything burns.
And with a sudden realization, he remembers that;
The enjoyment - It wasn't watching Naruto break because of the villagers, it was Naruto's resilience. He always marvelled at such a thing, and in a way, he respects the child as he respect his Master. It seems, Kurama thinks with a htaeful snarl, that his denial has blinded him once and possibly forever more.
Naruto, he isn't broken, he never was. He couldn't be broken because he was incomplete in the first place, and as Kurama entered the fray that was the brat's life, together they complete each other.
Sleep, Kurama, he tells himself. Sleep, or you might actually cry this time.
His body chooses the latter.
.
.
.
Through the ages, the thousands of years, He, Kurama, has never hated himself as much as he did now.
.
.
.
Naruto stops talking to him and does not allow Kurama to contact him either. He feels the guilt return, and wallows in a cycle of self loathing and self pity. They return to their daily routines, with Kyuubi's restless sleep within the prisons, and Naruto with his academy to attend.
However, the differences were noticeable. With Naruto's eyes an empty, dull blue and Kurama's distinct lack of aura of superiority.
Although they attempt to go their separate ways, things are never the same.
Kurama clenches his eyes and deadly jaws, as he feels the cold consume him again.
The brat doesn't even let him heal him anymore. No matter in the heightened life and death situations, the brat doesn't let him. His actions just adds the salt to the wounds, although Kyuubi can't say that he does not deserve it.
It hurts, the fact that Naruto, pure, forgiving, tragic Naruto, would not allow him, a Demon, to even ease the boy of his wounds.
He breaks down, head bowed, tails up, shoulders shaking. He calls for Naruto, pride be damned, and is monentarily immobilized in shock when he sees the blonde appear,stone faced and hollow again, in front of his cage.
Wasting no time, Kurama apologizes with words - or what he can form, as for the emotions, he tries to convey through facials, sounds and gestures although his body is of a fox, he only hopes for Naruto to understand. He looks up to see Naruto smiling a small, small but beautiful, sweet, sweet smile. Sweet but still so bitter.
Kurama's thoughts swim with horrible thought of rejection once again.
Naruto looks up to him, eyes brimming with barely restrained emotions. Kurama sees the boy smile more, and hears the boy say that he should get up, as it isn't becoming of the strongest of the nine demons to be in such a position.
And fuck, he feels so relieved, he rushes forward, nose pressing as far through the seal as he can, Demon Superiority complexes fucking off. He laughs, a throaty chuckle of relief that reverberrates through the cage and shifts the waters as he feels the kid's arms attempt to wrap around his too-large, animalistic nose.
They stay in the same position, warming up to each other all over again. Kyuubi feels as his heart melts, the coldness finally fades away and the hollowness is filled. Gathering his chakra around Naruto softly, he heals the scars of the wounds Naruto-Hadn't-Let-Him-Heal, and Naruto lets him.
.
.
.
He feels the coldness fade and together, their hollowness fade.
Being alone didn't mean you were lonely, but for both of them it had always been the other way around.
He stands beside Naruto, supporting him from his cage. They were alone, but now it's fine, it's dandy. Because they were alone together.
A little boy and the king of demons.
.
.
.
End