"Stop! Stop! I don't want it to be this way!" She screamed as she ran at him. He saw her, registered her, recognized her. But even so, he was lost in the throes of hatred. His body would not respond. He tried to tell her to run, to stay away, but the most he managed was a terrifying roar that knocked her down. His body hurt and he was burning. His face was peeling away, and his heart felt like it was torn in pieces. Every breath caused him pain, and all of this was making him lose himself more. If he lost himself the pain would leave, if even for just a few minutes he could have reprieve. He saw his hand reach out towards her, terrifying orange claws outstretched, ready to kill. The claws were bloodthirsty and didn't care who it was.


He cried out in pain and horror at what he was about to do, and blackness ate at his vision. He couldn't fight it off, not the pain or the darkness enclosing his sight. With a hiss, the claws made contact, and he lost himself into the darkness completely.

He awoke from his nightmare, breathing hard and sweating. His hands were covered in blood, and for a moment his heart stopped in fear. He felt a trickle coming down his lips and he licked at the drops of blood coming down his nose. So it was a bloody nose, fortunately. At least it was his blood, and not someone else's this time.

He rubbed at his sleepy eyes and went to the restroom. After staunching the bloody flow, he warmed up a cup of milk in his kitchen. The kitchen was surprisingly less messy than normal. With nothing to do he would stay at home and clean. It took his mind off of things. Thunder bellowed in the distance, loud and deep. He took his cup of milk into his room and climbed into his bed where he sat looking outside.

The rain pittered down outside the window. His withered plant's leaves caught the drops, drooping forwards and allowing the much needed water to fall into the pot towards the parched roots. He sighed and leaned his whiskered cheeks on his palm. This was so unlike him, to sit still long enough to watch drops fall from the sky. Normally, he wouldn't care about the descending water. It's not like he goes out often, and even if he did rain wouldn't cause him any dismay. But things had changed. Normally to him rainy days would seem as bright as any other. But now, sunny days and rainy days fell into the same foggy darkness that everything had fallen into.

Why was it that he could never be happy? He could never even feel anything but anger. Sure he laughed and fooled around like he didn't have a care in the world, but deep down he was hurting. Behind the smiles were tears. But the problem was that he didn't know why he was crying. Salty water flowed across his palm, following his veins down his arms. Sadness flowed in his veins as much as blood did. It was such a huge part of him that he couldn't imagine what it was like to even experience happiness. When was it that he realized how miserable he was? When was the exact moment he realized that he hated his life? He couldn't remember a time before it. Was he born full of hatred?

He looked up at the darkened clouds above his village.

" Do you know why you're crying?" He pondered. A flash of lightning split the sky, leaving a crackling feeling in the atmosphere.

"I didn't think so."

Even though it was raining, he decided to go for a walk. This was the best time to go because no one would be out. He wouldn't have to wear the face of a clown and could be himself. Putting on his bright orange and black clothes, he looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were covered in dark circles that resulted in his lack of sleep. He tried to smile, but it seemed like even his reflection knew it was a fake. His smile didn't reach his eyes, which still looked dead as they had since that day. He put his hand up and placed it on the mirror. His reflection did the same, and when he removed his hand there was a palm print left behind.

"You're the only one who understands me." He whispered, "But no one but I know that you are there."


Stepping outside he breathed deeply and sighed. The rain began its job of drenching him through his clothes. It was raining so hard that by the time he got downstairs he was feeling the chill inside his sweatshirt. He began to walk towards his favorite spot; the swing outside the Academy.

He had been correct in thinking that no one else would be out in this weather. With the exception of the village guards everyone was at home, all warm and toasty with their families. He swung himself forward a bit on the swing, remembering how often he had been left alone in this very same manner. He used to be a bit of an idiot in those days. Always clamoring for attention, pretending he was an idiot so that others would laugh at him. Anything to be recognized, even if the recognition was for being a knucklehead. No one had seen the real him. The him that loved and wanted to be loved, the him that actually tried his best. Even though he was worst in class he never gave up on his dream. No one knew about that side of him, no matter how blatantly obvious he made it. Everyone saw the loudness in him but after every applause is a quiet that everyone conveniently ignores. No one acknowledged his hard work or never give up attitude. Even when he had thought he'd made friends, they hadn't seen the true him. They thought they knew him but they had never looked deep enough to see the tender side of him, the side that needed to be cared for. The sadness and tears he kept locked away. He wasn't sure if that had even been their fault though. He was the one who kept the emotions semi hidden, and lured others eyes away from the scars on his heart with his foolish antics.

His feet dragged on the ground, digging little troughs that quickly filled with mud. Water trickled down his face. He couldn't even tell if it was tears or rain at this point. He didn't even know if he cared. He got off the swing set and began walking again. He wasn't sure of his destination, he just began to follow the roads until he came to the building he usually sat on top of when he wanted to look at the five Hokage.

He climbed up and sat down on the slick rooftop. The Hokage looked the same as ever, all wearing grim, serious faces. He looked at the fourth Hokage.

"Did you ever doubt yourself?" He asked of his long-dead idol. "Did you ever hate your own life? Ever wonder about your existence?" The Fourth gave no answer. He sighed.

He leaned back and stared up at the sky.

"I wonder where he is right now. Sasuke. I wonder if this is how he's felt: trapped and helpless and lost in his own emotions. Feeling himself torn between how he wishes things could be and how they actually are. I wish he'd come back with me. We could get through this together."

Only he knew the darkness that ate at Naruto, other than his own reflection. He had known and understood and for that Naruto was grateful. He was also the only person Naruto had ever kissed. Even if it was an accident, a bond had been created between the two of them that neither could deny. It was more than friendship that made Naruto so desperate to bring Sasuke back, and more than friendship that had made Sasuke spare Naruto's life when he tried.

He stood up and began to walk towards his home on top of the rooftops. Dawn would be coming shortly and he wanted to get back to his home to clean up and prepare his mask for the following day. It wouldn't do for others to see the tender side of Naruto, would it?

He was almost home when he slipped. One of the roof tiles had been loose and Naruto had been so close to the edge that he began to fall off the building. He grabbed the edge of the roof but it was too slick with water and he fell off and into the alleyway behind the building. He hit his head with a loud crack and his mouth filled with blood. Whiteness filled his vision like a spreading fissure and his ears rang. Before he lost consciousness he managed to slightly turn his head to keep from choking on the blood, but that was all he could manage before everything went black.


He heard the whispers before he had fully woken up.

"It's that kid…"

"Is he ok? He looks injured."

"Who cares? I don't care what some people say about him being a good Ninja. I don't trust a fox child."

"Yeah, me either. If he dies, it's for the good of the village. I say leave him and pretend we didn't see anything."

"But he's behind my shop…"

"Well that's your problem. Maybe you should wait for him to die and then report it."

"Hmmm…Perhaps. Either way, if we continue to gather here someone will get suspicious. Come inside."

The voices got distant and Naruto heard the sound of a door closing. He was awake then, barely. He didn't have the energy to cry out and when he tried to move the whiteness filled his head again, threatening to throw him back into unconsciousness. His tongue was swollen from where he had bitten it in the fall and he was pretty sure that his arm was broken. There was a puddle of water right next to his face that he managed to get a few laps of water from. It tasted dirty but at least it was soothing his tongue a little. His clothes were still soaked from the rains of the night before and he had no way to dry off, so he was sure that he would get a cold at some point if something wasn't done soon. He moaned loudly, hoping to grab someone's attention. Unfortunately for him it was a Monday in the entertainment district. No one went to the theater or bars at this time. There was no one to hear his moans and whimpers, and the shopkeeper whose building he was behind had made it clear that he didn't much care about the injured boy outside by his garbage cans.

As if he knew Naruto was thinking about him the shopkeeper came outside with a bag of garbage. He glared at Naruto who looked at him with his eyes half closed in semi consciousness. The man squinted and walked over to him. He got down onto his knees and lifted Naruto's head a little to look into his eyes. He frowned and dropped Naruto's head.

"I don't care if you have innocent looking blue eyes. I know that there is something wrong with you. You're the demon fox that killed my daughter, and here I have the chance to finish you off for good. Out of respect for the Third Hokage's wishes regarding your treatment, I won't kill you myself. But that's all the kindness I can afford. I'm not going to help or harm you. I'll let fate decide your sentence. Will it be death or life, Demon?"

Naruto moaned again and coughed up some blood. The shopkeeper tsked in disgust and dropped the garbage bag practically on top of Naruto, who lost consciousness as the shop keeper reentered his store.

When Naruto came to again he felt a little stronger. He still couldn't move his head too much but his tongue was no longer swollen. He drank some more water before trying to move a little. He slid about an inch but his head and arm hurt so much that he was threatened with unconsciousness and darkness began to cover his vision. He managed to fight it off but didn't attempt moving again.

"Why do I bother?" He wondered. He carried inside of him a will of fire. He refused to give up, ever. But what had that done for himself, other than get him injured unnecessarily? He hadn't even been able to keep the one person who understood him by his side. One by one he lost everyone, and never gained anything by it. He fought so hard to become Hokage, just so that people would notice him for something good. He remembered one thing that Iruka had told him about becoming Hokage.

"You don't become Hokage to get people to recognize you, you get people to recognize you and then you can become Hokage." He had said.

But no matter what Naruto did, he wasn't recognized for anything but the stupid fox trapped inside of himself. He grabbed his stomach and squeezed, tears at the corner of his eyes.

"It's not my fault." He told the door leading into the shop. "I'm not the fox. I'm Naruto…Uzumaki…"

That's not true though, is it? Whenever you get mad you turn into me and hurt everyone near you. If you were truly your own person, wouldn't you be able to control your anger better? Why do you turn into me whenever you feel something real? I know you, Naruto. I see everything, know everything you are feeling. I know that you feel nothing but emptiness almost all the time, but when you feel real emotions: intense anger, sadness, or longing it is I you turn into. Does that not make me your true form?

"No you aren't the same as me. I'm a different person. That's like saying that me being asleep is my normal form of consciousness, and that being awake is an altered state. When I'm feeling angry and upset on a scale that calls for your possession I'm not being myself. I lose control to your anger."

You don't lose control. The real you takes control of your body, and your fake consciousness watches as your subconscious takes over. You wouldn't hurt people that you truly cared about, that you held no grudge against. It just so happens that you have a grudge against everyone, even those you think you care about. And how do you know that being asleep isn't your normal form of consciousness? When you look into that mirror in your room, do you see yourself happy? Do you see yourself empty like you are normally? No. You see yourself full of hurt and anger that no one understands. That is your true form. I am part of that true form. That makes me part of you. You and I are one, Uzumaki Naruto.

"I don't agree with you. I know that I am unhappy, but that doesn't make me hatred incarnate, like you are."

Perhaps not. But you would be surprised at how thin the line is between sadness and hatred. I wouldn't start disagreeing with me when you have no way of proving me wrong.

"Shut up, Kyuubi."

The fox stopped talking and Naruto sighed. He couldn't prove that he and the fox weren't the same thing. The villagers seemed to think so, and he knew that none of the people his age or younger knew about the Kyuubi trapped in his body, with the exception of Sakura, who had seen him turn into the second state of possession once. He was sure that was the only reason they weren't as hostile towards him as the previous generations. No matter what he did to prove himself though, many people wouldn't see him for his actions, but as the troublesome jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi, or as the class clown. They were so used to his tomfoolery of his childhood that they couldn't acknowledge his strength.

Naruto pushed himself forward again, slowly dragging himself to the entrance of the alley. Although he hurt and was on the verge of losing consciousness once more, he didn't stop until he passed out. It took him most of the day to make it to the other end of the alley. By that time, more people were visiting the bars to get a drink after work. Because of the darkness none saw Naruto in the alley, who was unconscious. As soon as Naruto regained consciousness once more he whined in pain. He began to moan more and more until someone heard him. Fortunately for himself it was someone who wasn't keen on the idea of pretending they hadn't seen him. It was a young woman who found him and went to get help. As she ran off to find a medical ninja, Naruto was able to fall asleep. He hoped she actually came with help and wasn't just running off like the men earlier. Not that he could do anything if she did. Like the shopkeeper said, he was in Fate's hands now. Naruto could no longer keep himself awake and so succumbed to his sheer exhaustion.

The medical ninja ran up to the alleyway where Naruto was. There were three of them, two to carry a stretcher and one to apply emergency treatment, if necessary. They carefully examined Naruto to check to see if it was safe to move him. He had a broken arm, two broken ribs, a cracked skull, and a bitten tongue. On top of that he was suffering from slight dehydration and fever, and odd injuries along his lower arm. Though they poked and prodded at his injuries to get the full extent of the damage, the boy wouldn't wake up.

They carefully lifted him onto the stretcher and began to run towards the Konoha Hospital.