Ok, so the original plan was to write the whole thing first and then upload it, but clearly I have negative amounts of self-control so here we are. Anyways, this is a bit of a labour of love, I've had the idea floating around for a few years now and have been really excited to actually start writing it, I've mostly been doing research on various aspects of Arabic/desert-nomad culture which I'm going to be working into this story (more in the next few chapters than this one), things like pre-Islamic Arabia for the religions and culture and Bedouin tribes for the daily life and general 'living in the desert' stuff, hopefully I've done a good job but if anyone wants to call me out on inaccuracies or anything then please do! I like learning and don't claim to be an expert on any of this stuff.
I don't expect this to be that long - if things go to plan expect maybe 3-4 more chapters around this length - however the next few weeks look like they're gonna be job interviews and crying about how woefully unprepared I am for adult life, so updates might be slow, just keep shouting at me and I will get around to it once my life's stabilised a little bit. Gotta stop rambling so much, hope you enjoy!
He couldn't move, he could barely breathe, the air was so heavy with the desert's burning heat it felt as though every part of his body was being pushed down by the invisible hands of the sun itself.
Mizuki wasn't coming back.
He'd left almost a day ago now, claiming to be searching for the desert tribe who would be escorting them across the sands, but Naruto was beginning to suspect that he'd never really intended to take him away from Konoha to start a new life among people who wouldn't ignore and despise him.
The man had told him to stay put, sheltered by a small, rocky overhang at the very edge of where stone and clay turned to sand, with only a single water canteen and a bag with some dried fruit and a change of clothes in it.
In less than half a day the water was down to the stubborn few drops that clung to the inside of the flask no matter how hard he shook. The fruit was still there, but in this heat and with the water gone it only turned into a sticky mush in his parched mouth, unpleasant in texture and almost painful to swallow. He'd tried to do what Mizuki had told him, tried to conserve his water for as long as he could, tried to keep to the shade even as the creeping sun had slowly stolen it away, inch by inch, until he was practically hugging the rock and could still feel his back starting to burn even through the thin fabric covering it.
But he was only nine years old, there was only so much self-control he had.
After the sun had started to sink some – the temperature didn't drop much, but it was enough for him to feel able to move again – he'd started to worry about what was taking his guardian so long, maybe he'd gotten lost, or what if he was hurt? Naruto was at heart a kind and brave soul, so he resolutely tied the spare shirt from his bag around his head for what little protection it could offer and set off into the sands.
Perhaps that wasn't the best path he could have chosen, but for a young boy lost and alone in a strange, inhospitable land there weren't many options open to him.
Now, he lay there, panting upon the desert floor. He had gotten dizzy upon reaching the top of a particularly high dune and collapsed, unable to find the energy to stand back up. Lying on his back on the burning hot sands, he was starting to wonder if this hadn't been the plan all along, to simply ditch him here and let the desert do what none of Konoha's villagers had ever seem willing to.
He had never in his life felt so hot, his lips cracked painfully any time he tried to move them. So he stopped trying. There was no one to call for help anyway and he had nothing left to drink apart from his own saliva, which was thick like glue and slid painfully down his throat.
His skin was already red and peeling and sweat beaded along his forehead, he hoped that maybe if it dripped further down it might give him some respite from his thirst, however the salty drops evaporated long before they reached his lips.
Would anyone even miss him? Mizuki certainly wouldn't, most of the people he knew probably wouldn't, who would care about the orphan street rat? Perhaps the old man might be saddened by his disappearance, he'd always made time to see him at least once a week, even when he was busy doing whatever needed to be done to keep the village running. Maybe even Iruka…
His eyes started stinging, like they would when he cried, but as much as he wanted to, this time no tears fell, there was probably no water left in him. Crying wouldn't solve anything anyway.
He was going to die here wasn't he? Alone and in pain and no one would ever even know about it.
A sudden breeze blew past him, blessedly cool, though the smattering of tiny grains that felt like needles against his sunburnt skin was less welcome. Naruto slowly blinked his stuck-together eyelids open, another gust of wind rustled his blond hair, damp from sweat, and it sent a shiver down his spine.
The sun was lower in the sky now, not quite sunset but it wouldn't be long. He turned his head away from the sight. It was beautiful, he'd always loved this time of day – watching the sky turn from blue to orange to red to purple from the highest places he could climb – but right now it only aggravated the stinging in his eyes.
At least in this direction there was only the darkening blue of the sky and the sand stretching out for miles around… it almost looked like water now, turning a greyish-blue in the distance, the rippling dunes as waves, he'd never seen the ocean, but this must be what it looked like, a vast expanse where the horizon looked a world away, just empty nothingness uninterrupted by-
Wait.
With great difficulty Naruto managed to sit himself up, squinting as he scanned the distance more carefully… There! On one of the dunes a few ridges over there was a dark shape, a speck of deep red, he watched it as it slowly made its way up to the very top of the dune, then it stopped.
The sun was nearly set now, but its light fell at just the right angle to light the shape – the person he realised – far away, but still close enough for him to make out fabric fluttering in the wind. He was hit by the sudden feeling of being watched, like this figure was staring right at him.
They weren't moving anymore, just stood on the crest of the dune, as if waiting, maybe… for me? the blond boy thought. He wasn't sure who the mysterious person was, if they were really waiting for him, if they were even really there, but perhaps they were and perhaps he could reach them; he didn't care who they were, he just didn't want to die alone.
Naruto rose to his feet unsteadily, took only a moment to gather his bearings, then set off.
It must've been hours, he was tired and every part of his body ached, but every time he glanced up and saw that dark shape – a little closer with every dune crossed – he found some stubborn energy deep within himself to carry on.
He was sure now that the person was waiting for him, they never let him get close, at least not close enough to see anything other than the billowing red cloak silhouetted against the midnight-blue sky, but every time it felt like he was falling behind they would stop, simply standing in place until he was sure that this time he would reach them, then they would turn back around and disappear down the other side of a sandbank.
Even so, by the time Naruto reached the top and looked to see where they'd gone they were already waiting at the top of the next dune.
It was difficult to keep going sometimes, but whenever his pace slowed and he came to a stop to catch his breath a strong gust would push him forwards, as if it were urging him on, telling him keep going, you're almost there!
The cold was starting to get to him though; he'd never expected the desert to be like this at night and the wind, helpful as it was, sent a chill down the boy's spine and a twinge of pain from his sunburnt skin with every gust.
Naruto didn't know how much longer he could last.
Panting he looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious person leading him deeper into the sands. He was shocked at how close they were this time, only a few yards ahead of him now, in the dark, and with his sight blurring horribly, he couldn't make out much more than when they were separated by great distance, but he did see a flash of two hard, pale eyes, before the figure once again turned around and dipped out of sight.
This time he was not discouraged, I'm going to reach them! He took a deep breath and charged up the hill as fast as his weak legs would carry him, he couldn't explain it but he felt that he was close to wherever the stranger was leading him, that if he just scaled the one last dune he would-
They weren't there.
He desperately turned left and right, even looking back the way he came, but there was no one in sight, just the endless sand and glittering stars. He wished now more than ever that he could cry, he was alone, even this stranger wanted him to die here, lost in the desert. Even if he had no tears to shed he still let out a dry sob, then another. Like a dam had been opened they kept coming, his voice was rough and barely audible, but it hardly mattered anymore.
I'm alone.
There was a sudden blast of wind, so powerful it scooped up a hail of sand with it. Caught completely off-guard he tumbled backwards, rolling all the way down the slope. Every time part of him hit the ground, pain shot through him and sand clawed at his skin, until finally his descent slowed and he tumbled to a halt, curled on his side.
It took him a long time to open his eyes, everything hurt, but once he did what he saw made all pain seem to fade away.
Right in front of him was… a bush. He warily reached out his hand. The leaves were long, spindly things and coarse in texture, but it was undoubtedly the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Naruto sat up, his exhaustion forgotten as he stared in wonder at the sight before him, plants of all kinds, tall trees disappearing into the night sky, a wall of delicate looking reeds and spiky bushes, all packed together tightly, like they were shielding each other from the harsh desert. The leaves rustled in the, now gentle, wind and over that he could hear… Water!
In his rush to push through the dense scrub he earned himself more than a few scratches, but as soon as his foot suddenly plunged into the cold, beautiful, blessed oasis, he no longer cared. The water enveloped him in its grip as he fell to his knees – like the occasional embrace he received from the old man – and he ducked his head into the frigid water, his discomfort overtaken by his thirst suddenly rushing back full force.
He didn't care how cold it was or whether the water was dirty, all that mattered was soothing his parched throat.
As soon as the water hit his stomach, it immediately cramped; he groaned in pain, but kept drinking anyway, at least until he started to retch.
Wiping at his mouth and stifling agonising coughs, he dragged himself away from the water's edge, his thirst had been abated, the bone-chilling cold and lingering nausea were now more important. The boy struggled back through the scrub until he found a clearing, it was tiny, an adult wouldn't fit there, but he could. Curling into a tight ball he huddled against a tree, his clothes were soaking and stealing the warmth from his body even faster than the freezing air around him, but the nook he'd found was at least sheltered from the bitter wind and the sky was starting to lighten in the distance, it'd be morning soon.
He didn't know what he'd do then. He'd spent his whole life on the streets, scavenging in trash for leftovers, stealing what few possessions he owned, but out here there were no dumps to sift through, no wealthy merchants to steal from, no small alleys to hide in… Nothing but himself and the wind and the sand.
He didn't know what he'd do when the sun rose, but he'd made it this far hadn't he? Perhaps this was fate, perhaps he was meant to be here, the dark stranger who'd disappeared like smoke into the sands must have led him here for a reason, even the wind itself had encouraged him.
He didn't know what he'd do, but he wasn't about to give up yet. The cold and exhaustion finally forced him into a long, dark sleep.
Light flickered against his closed eyelids. Distorted sounds filtered into his mind. He was vaguely aware of something – a hand? – against his forehead, when he tried to open his eyes all he could see was a shadowy indistinct mass. Dizziness struck him all at once and everything was dark again.
The first thing he became aware of was the pain. Or rather, the lack of it.
His body still ached, but the pain was dull, as if far away, or smothered by a thick blanket. That was the second thing he became aware of; the heavy cloth draped over him.
As his mind slowly crawled out of the deep, murky waters it had retreated to, he started to notice other things too. There was a low murmur of conversation going on around him, though he couldn't make out any words. The light against his eyelids suggested it was day, but trying to confirm it only resulted in his vision blurring and his eyes watering heavily, he let out a groan of discomfort.
There was a pause in the voices, before they started up again, faster and louder than before, the noise only served to irritate his aching head more. One voice cut through the others, before he felt a presence settle beside him. A hand gently pulled his head up slightly and the rim of a cup was pressed against his lips, he didn't stop to question it, just eagerly drank the trickle of sickly sweet liquid offered.
After far too short a time the cup was pulled away, he tried to crane his head to follow after it, but was only met with air and a twinge in his cramped neck. The hand of the person beside him pushed him back down, then gently pried his eyes open. It took a while for his vision to clear completely, but after a minute he was able to finally take in his saviour.
She was old – at least as far as he was concerned – her dark skin was rather wrinkled around the eyes and mouth, her features were strong, homely, but friendly and her gentle smile made him feel… safe.
"Wh-" he tried to speak, his voice cracking horribly.
The woman tilted her head before calling to someone else with rapid, indecipherable words and impatient hand gestures. He couldn't move his head properly to look around, but soon another person quickly appeared in his line of sight, a man with a serious face.
"You want to know who we are?" he said, his tone low but dull.
Naruto didn't want to try speaking again, so he simply nodded his head.
"My name is Mujin, this-" he pointed to the woman who had now started dabbing a soothing cream over the sunburn on his arms, "-is Ameno, we are of the Sabaku tribe. We found you unconscious by the oasis and have spent the last two days tending your injuries."
The blond boy slowly nodded again, then cleared his throat, this was something he absolutely had to say.
"Thank you." His voice was still rough, but clear enough that Mujin seemed to understand.
"It is simply the way of the desert," he droned.
The woman muttered something – in what Naruto was beginning to realise was probably the tribes own language – the dark-haired man nodded and both started to gently manoeuvre him into a sitting position, with a stack of hard pillows behind his back keeping him up.
Now that he was in a better position, he really looked around this new environment. He was in a large, square tent of some kind, intricate embroidered rugs scattered across the floor and hanging along the walls. Beyond the wide, open end opposite him he could see the expanse of the desert, the bright blue sky and almost blindingly white sand suggested it was afternoon, but somehow it was much cooler here, more like the warm summer days he remembered in Konoha than the burning, suffocating heat he'd experienced last time he was awake.
Inside the tent there were a surprising number of people milling about, all dark skinned and wearing loose, voluminous robes. In the far corner were a few tall, strong-looking individuals, swords strapped to their belts; in the opposite corner older men and woman were gathered around some kind of stove, young children nearby casting furtive glances at the young blond boy, one caught his eye and flashed him a gap-toothed grin.
Ameno pulled on Mujin's sleeve to grab his attention, speaking and jerking her head towards Naruto.
"She needs to know what happened to you and if you still feel sick." The man sighed, resigned to his fate as translator.
The boy shook his head quickly, regretting it when a short dizzy spell hit him, "'m fine."
His words were relayed, but nothing else was said, Mujin just gave him a long hard stare, eventually giving up and prompting him again. "And what happened." Naruto knew that was technically a question, but the man's bland tone certainly didn't make it sound like one.
He looked down at his hands, twisting together in his lap. He really didn't want to tell them, this was the most kindness he had been shown in weeks, possibly months. What if when they found out they would hate him too? Leave him alone again just like Mizuki…
Mizuki! He'd said he was looking for a desert tribe that had agreed to lead them through the sands, could this be that tribe? Maybe the man hadn't abandoned him, perhaps he really had gotten lost or hurt, he had to find out.
"I was with a man, Mizuki, have you seen him? He was looking for a tribe who was gonna lead us… somewhere, I don't remember. He has white hair but isn't an old man, not really old anyway."
"You're the first outsider we've seen in over a month, no requests for passage have been made to us and we are the only tribe in this territory." The blunt statement brought tears to his eyes.
"Are you sure? Maybe I just went in the wrong direction, can't you ask the other tribes if they've seen him?" He was getting desperate, he knew.
"No we can't. There won't be another tribe for miles anyway."
This time he really couldn't stop himself from genuinely crying, hiccupping and trying to wipe the tears from his face in vain.
A dull thud and rapid, aggravated scolding – a tone recognisable in any language – made him lift his head. Ameno had apparently thrown a cushion at the insensitive man opposite her and was now waving him off, whilst simultaneously snapping at his quickly retreating figure.
Once he had disappeared behind a hanging curtain she finally stopped, turning back to her patient with a kind smile. She gently patted his cheek and handed him a tiny ceramic cup, it fit almost perfectly in his small hands, and gestured for him to drink.
Naruto sniffled one last time before tasting the amber liquid, it was the same sickly-sweet tea he'd been given upon first waking, but it felt soothing to his throat and calmed him somewhat, even if his eyes were still a little damp.
By now the woman had called over someone else, this time a boy who could only be a few years older than himself.
"Hello, I'm Ittetsu! Sorry, Mujin's not very nice, but he's the best at speaking Hi no Kuni's language, I'm learning though." The boy grinned widely as he introduced himself, the blond already liked him more than his previous translator. "What's your name anyway?"
"Oh, it's Naruto." He tried to match the older boy's smile but his still burned cheeks protested the movement.
"How d'ya feel? Khaalati spent hours healing you, you were half-dead when we found you."
"I'm fine."
Ittetsu didn't look convinced. "Are you sure about that?" he said, reaching out to poke a bright red patch of sunburn on his arm.
"Ow! Quit it," Naruto said, leaning as far away as possible. Maybe he didn't like him so much anymore.
The boy with short, dark hair strangely started to tear up. "No, no, no, sorry, I'm sorry, please don't cry!" A swift pillow to the head by Ameno cut his rambling off. "I'm sorry, but, we just can't do anything to help you if you don't let us know something is wrong. Are you really sure you feel fine?"
The blond stared at him warily, he supposed that made sense, but how many times had he asked for help in the past and been refused. He turned to the kindly woman beside him, she was giving him an encouraging smile, one that made him think of the mothers he'd seen comforting their fallen children in the park he used to frequent.
"I… I'm achy, kinda dizzy," he muttered, picking idly at a loose thread on his blanket.
"Makes sense, so can you tell us what happened, how long you were out there, how much you drank, stuff like that?" Ittetsu asked.
Naruto's face scrunched up while he tried to recall everything that had happened. "A day, I think, maybe a bit longer. I had a full thing of water, but that ran out by the afternoon, didn't eat anything. I found that lake at night, drank a lot of water but it made me sick, then I fell asleep by the tree, and now I'm here."
His words were relayed to the woman, she nodded and made understanding noises, then patted his head and spoke some words of her own.
"Well she thinks you're past the worst of it at least, as long as you rest and keep drinking the tea she's giving you, you should be fine," Ittetsu said, "you can stay with us till you're better, are there gonna be people looking for you, or somewhere you were supposed to be?"
He kept his face down while he forced back the stinging in his eyes, once he was sure he wasn't going to cry, he shook his head, grinning as widely as he possibly could, "Nope, I don't have anywhere to go."
The older boy frowned at him, but nodded and pushed himself back to his feet. "If you say so, I've gotta go do my chores now, but Ameno will be looking after you. You should probably get some sleep, if you need anything just shout, there's a few people here who can speak your language." He grinned one last time, then jogged out of the tent, Naruto watched him until he completely disappeared.
The dizziness was starting to get to him a little; he decided that sleeping sounded like a good idea right now, he gingerly shuffled his body into a more comfortable position – his carer helping remove the extraneous pillows – and closed his eyes, the warm feeling overwhelming him coming from more than just a thick blanket.
It was three days before he was declared fit to travel, some of the more impatient tribe members seemed annoyed by this but – as Naruto quickly learned – Ameno knew what was best and Gods help you if you disagreed.
After the first day of resting he was allowed to explore a little, he found that they had camped a short way from the oasis, letting their herd of goats graze on the abundant plant life gathered there, three large tents that each held an extended family, as well as a single small tent. When he'd asked Ittetsu about it he'd only gotten a vague answer.
"That's the tent of the Honoured Siblings, but you shouldn't go near it, they don't like people."
He hadn't seen either of these siblings, however all the other tribe members seemed to step around it with some kind of reverence, always staying quiet if they ever did need to draw close to it, so he followed their example. Besides, any curiosity he had towards it was distracted by playing with some of the young children. He'd never had a friend in Konoha – let alone one his age – so, even with the language barrier and a hovering Ameno making sure he didn't overexert himself, he found himself having more fun with them than he'd had in years.
Ittetsu, like all the older kids, had a lot of chores and responsibilities, thus couldn't play as much, but he would always sit next to the blond boy at dinner and ask him about his day, how he was feeling, if anyone had been giving him a hard time.
Surprisingly they hadn't. Sure, some of the old men and women gave him odd looks and Mujin possessed a truly astounding lack of tact, but he at least apologised when he said something upsetting. Most of the time.
And Ameno… She was special to him. He couldn't remember anything of his own parents and his only experiences with maternal affection was watching from afar as a mother was walking her child down the street, but he was sure that this must be what it felt like. The warm feeling he got whenever she patted his head, how her amused but genuine smile at his clumsy attempts to speak her unfamiliar language seemed make everything shine brighter.
Everything about the last few days had been so unbelievable, like a dream he hoped he'd never wake from. Sometimes he feared he would, late at night when he was kept awake by the whispers of the adults huddled around the small stove, by the bleating of the goats roaming outside, by the winds scraping against the camel-hair tent walls. Then Ameno would settle down near him and hum a soothing lullaby, gentle hand stroking though his locks and he'd suddenly find himself unable to keep his eyes open.
He didn't want to leave.
He was sure it'd been talked about; he'd seen the adults having their serious conversations in the evening, they were subtle in their glancing at him, but he'd grown a talent for telling when people were discussing him. He was fully recovered now, there wasn't any reason for them to stick around any longer, he would just be another mouth to feed, a child who wouldn't even be able to pull his weight, not in the ways that the other children already did – even the younger ones were expected to do their chores and were much hardier against the extremes of the desert.
He was just a skinny street rat whose only skills were petty theft and pulling pranks, there was no way these people would want him to stay with them.
That was how he'd found himself here now.
It was around dawn; the sun wasn't risen yet but the sky was light. Most of the tribe were already up and preparing breakfast, rounding up the few goats that had wandered in the night, some were starting to pack away the numerous cushions and rugs from inside the tents. No one had talked to him yet in all the commotion, but he didn't really want to stick around to watch them leave him.
So he left first.
He'd packed up the few belongings he'd already had and some that he hadn't, the shabby but protective clothes he'd been given to wear, an extra water canteen and some dried fruit and meat he'd stolen from the tribe's stores. He wasn't proud of it, he knew how disappointed they'd be – especially Ameno – but he had no choice.
He didn't know where he was going to go, didn't even know where he was, but at least by vanishing in the early morning when everyone was too busy to notice his absence, he'd be able to get away, maybe he'd try and go back to Konoha, or maybe he'd just wander into the desert, never to be seen again.
Suddenly shouts rose behind him, they were muted by the distance he'd put between himself and the camp but in the eerie stillness of the desert they reached his ears well enough. Well enough to pick up a few of the new words he'd been learning.
"Missing."
"Urgent."
Had they already noticed what he'd stolen from them? He quickly turned away and started walking faster, his sand-coloured cloak helped hide him but he didn't want to wait for the sun to rise, he'd be easier to spot then.
"Goat."
Naruto stopped. He stretched his hearing some more, but the words were no longer ones he could recognise. It didn't really matter anyway, he'd heard enough. One of the goats had gotten lost. Was that really what all the uproar was about?
He felt unexpectedly irritated by this, he'd run away from them, even taking some of their supplies, but they were just worried about some stupid goat?
Huffing he started to stomp away even faster than he was going before. Clearly he'd made the right choice in leaving if they wouldn't even notice that he'd disappeared.
It had been too good to be true, he should know better by now. People just didn't like him, didn't care about him unless he was making a nuisance of himself, just wanted to go about their lives without having to talk to him or even look at him, even those few people who had given him positive attention in the past had never gone out of their way to help him. The old man would give him some money or food when he was marched into his office by an angry villager who'd been the victim of a theft or prank, Iruka would sometimes sit with him after his day of teaching was finished, he even took him out to eat when he had some extra money, but neither of them had ever offered him a home, a real friend, a family.
Why did he think things would be different this time? He didn't know these people – not really – and they certainly didn't know him, they'd just helped a lost child on the brink of death, like they would for anyone, as Mujin had said when he'd woken on that first day, "It is simply the way of the desert."
Once he'd recovered some he'd learned more about it, the desert was a harsh place and it was easy for people unfamiliar with it to get lost and die, even those who'd grown up there would be at risk if they became separated from their tribe, so in the desert weary and lonely strangers were welcomed for as long as it took to get them back on their feet, because to die alone in the harsh sands was a terrible fate that no one deserved.
Naruto slowed his march to a crawl.
The shouts had long since faded into the distance now, he hadn't even realised how far he'd gone. The only thing that stopped him now was the new sound.
A bleat, quiet but calm, just off to his left. He turned to face it, he was in a rockier area of the desert right now – the sand beneath his feet coarse, with lots of loose pebbles – and right now he was looking at a rock formation, large and square, rising up out of the ground like the bow of a ship.
Another bleat.
Slowly he started wandering towards it, it was definitely coming from behind this rock and it sounded awfully like-
He stared at the sight before him. As he'd expected it was indeed a goat making those small noises, the three notches in its right ear identifying it as a member of the Sabaku tribe's herd. But more surprisingly...
Sitting against the rock was a person, a man, draped in bloody red robes trimmed with gold, his face and hair was hidden behind a black scarf wrapped around his head, covering all but his eyes, which were in turn obscured by auburn locks.
The man – or perhaps boy, he didn't look that old – was reaching out towards the goat, which was meh-ing contentedly as it butted its head into the outstretched hand, he didn't appear to have noticed the blond boy creeping around the rock.
Naruto definitely didn't recognise the man from the tribe, he would've remembered him for sure, maybe he was one of those Honoured Siblings he'd been told about but not seen? But then again they were apparently really old, the oldest people in the entire tribe, so probably not. From another tribe perhaps? But the Sabaku had been adamant that there were no other tribes for miles around and he couldn't have gone that far.
He took another step forwards; the goat turned to look at him, but quickly returned to pestering the strange man for attention instead. There was something about him, he seemed familiar somehow…
The boy cleared his throat. The man still didn't turn.
"Uhm, hello?" Naruto said, inching closer, but he got no response.
I guess he doesn't understand me, he thought to himself, he tried to recall the word for hello he'd learned a few days ago. "Umm, m-maha… maharb- marhabaan?"
By now he was only a few feet away and the man still hadn't given any indication that he even knew he was there. The goat, apparently bored of its uncooperative playmate bounded over to him instead, head-butting his leg once it reached him. Instead of watching it, the man just let his hand fall to his lap and kept starting out into the vast, empty landscape.
Patting the goat's back gently the boy inched a little closer, maybe the man was deaf?
Just as he was about to reach him the stranger suddenly rose in a mass of billowing red, with his back turned to the boy he strode away, cloak and scarves flowing around him gracefully, which was especially weird since Naruto couldn't feel any strong wind. The familiarity of the image hit him then, all-at-once, a rush of deja vu that almost took him off his feet.
It was him! The one who he had seen when he was lost in the desert, when he'd been on the verge to giving up this was who had led him to the water and, indirectly, the tribe who had saved his life.
"Hey wait!"
The figure stopped abruptly, fabric still trailing behind him slightly, but didn't turn or speak.
"I… You helped me didn't you? You lead me to that oasis," the blond said, desperately wishing for some recognition, some sign that the man had even heard him.
But none came.
After only a few seconds he was walking away again, seeming to glide over the sand, not once stumbling or sinking like Naruto always did, he looked slightly down and his eyes widened, no footprints?
He glanced to his own feet, lifting one enough to see that, yes, it definitely left a dip in the sand, even if there was no clearly defined impression. But by the time he'd lifted his head again to check he wasn't imagining things, the mysterious stranger was gone, no trace left behind that he'd ever been there, just a scattering of sand lifted with the wind, glittering in the late morning light.
He'd had a hard time coercing the goat but he'd made it back to the camp just as the true burning heat of the midday sun was bearing its full weight upon the desert.
The second they spotted him nearing the tents he was surrounded, there was an uproar of rapid, foreign words he couldn't grasp and rough hands grasping at him, pulling and pushing and shaking and so much commotion he couldn't do anything but wail, tears spilling from his eyes.
More confusion and panic spread through the gathered throng and he was quickly ushered into the tent and set down on a rug in the cool shade, his blurred vision made it hard to tell what was happening but he recognised Ameno's normally warm voice snapping something too fast to catch. A ceramic cup was pushed into his hands, he took a shaky sip on force of habit alone, but the – now comfortingly familiar – hot liquid seemed to calm him some, he managed to even out his breathing with only a few residual sniffles.
His vision was still a little unclear, but he recognised Mujin being shoved down in front of him, though with how many people were barking at him, he didn't seem to know who he was supposed to be translating for.
Finally, a single voice cut over the din, instantly everyone stilled and turned to the opening of the tent where the voice had come from.
It was the oldest woman Naruto had ever seen, she was short and had a heavily wrinkled face, which only served to highlight the scowl she wore. She hobbled slowly closer, hushed words spoken by those still huddled around him, tone a mixture of shock, respect and just a tinge of fear.
She spoke again, this time quieter, but there was a power to her voice; Naruto found himself listening intently, even if he couldn't understand what was being said.
After a moment of silence Ameno rose to her feet, bowing slightly, but never backing down in her stubborn gaze. She started to speak, in her kindly but firm manner, the one she used on the blond when he'd tried to push his luck with her clearly set out rules during his recovery.
The next few minutes were a strange power play that he couldn't keep up with, both of the elderly women seemed to be testing each other's resolve, eventually the other adults started speaking themselves – apparently inputting their own versions of what had happened from the few words he could catch – but the tension still lingered, even more suffocating than the sun kept away by the camel-hair walls protecting them.
After what felt like hours he'd finally had enough of people talking about him like he wasn't there.
"Hey!"
Again silence reigned. "What's going on? If you want me to leave then you should just say it and I'll go."
There were some low murmurs as those who spoke his language translated, but, before anyone could decide who would answer him, the old woman stepped forwards again, the crowd parting before her.
Naruto fell back to the ground as she came to a halt before him, leaning down ever so slightly, almost looming over him. Though her face was old and tired, her eyes were sharp and they cut straight through him.
"So you are the cause of all this fuss," she said, her harsh voice held a note of bitterness, "well I don't see why. These fools don't seem to know what they want to do with you, what have you done, boy, to ingratiate yourself to them so strongly?"
"I-I don't know what that word means and I haven't done anything!" The blond quickly realised that that wouldn't work here, back home the old man would let him get away with theft with only a slap on the wrist, he only stole food or clothes and mostly from the richer merchants, but to steal from these people who had so little already… He gulped. "I mean, I did steal some food and water and, uhm," he plucked at the cloth around his neck, "this too I guess, but it wasn't much! Just enough to last me a few days so I could go…"
Go where? Home? Back to Konoha where everyone hated him, where probably no one had even noticed he'd disappeared over two weeks ago now? No, they probably had noticed, he was so despised that he wouldn't be surprised if a festival was being held in his absence. The only other place for him to go was out into the wilderness, though he knew deep down that he'd never survive, not alone.
"So I could run away from you, before you ran away from me," he finally said, voice cracking painfully, "but then I found the goat and I never wanted to hurt you and you all sounded so worried about it, so I brought her back 'cause she was lost like I was before you found me and I… I don't know," he trailed off, unsure what point he was trying to make in his ramblings.
The elder kept her long, hard stare fixed on him; he couldn't escape the feeling that he was being judged, that whatever she was about to say would decide his entire fate, he gulped and rubbed his clammy hands against his knees.
"Well now, that's quite the feat. To find a single goat in this desert, when every other hopeless wretch in this tribe could not, to even find you way back here, in an ever-changing landscape you have no knowledge of. Even when we found you, most children would be dead from what the old woman says you've been through, you must have an incredible force protecting you-" her eyes narrowed even further, as though daring him to reveal what had kept him alive all this time "-that or sheer dumb luck," she spat.
An incredible force… did she mean that mysterious stranger? How could she even know about him though, when Naruto wasn't entirely sure he hadn't imagined the whole thing? He wasn't sure whether he should tell or not, but didn't get a chance to worry too much before she let out an exasperated huff.
"Well, with how things have been going for us, I dare say we could use some dumb luck on our side for a change. Stay, you're more use here than dying of thirst out in the desert." With that, she spun on her heels and slowly marched back out into the afternoon sun. No one dared speak other than Mujin muttering a translation for those who didn't know what she'd said and once the ancient had disappeared from view everyone seemed to let out a held breath in unison.
Ameno quickly shooed the crowd away and started her usual examination, Ittetsu staying by his side to translate her questions, which the blond answered as best he could while so bewildered by everything that had just happened.
Once his carer was happy that he wasn't injured or dehydrated – he'd at least learned some restraint from his last time alone in the desert – he finally found the words he'd subconsciously wanted to ask since he'd first woken up with these people.
"So I… I'm staying with you?" he asked, still not quite believing it.
Ittetsu grinned widely at him and threw a skinny arm over his shoulders. "Of course you are! Welcome to the family."