There was something inside of him that often wracked his peace of mind, his "single-state of man" as Macbeth would have put it. He had always been considered different by his classmates throughout high school, and consistently considered different even now. He was 18 and had no intention of pursuing college, which had left him in an awkward, impoverished place. His tiny apartment was nuzzled between two other dirty looking complexes in a slum that just nicked the outside of the general hub of the city. His calling had been places with lots of people, where he could blend in and live and sometimes work in order to survive. He had reached a dead end, and was in dire need of an old friend, all of which he had lost contact with when they moved on to college and had become success stories. That was just like Naruto...Always falling behind. He had spirit, guts, and plenty of anguish to give an actual adult a run for their money. He would do great things some day...But as of now, he was hungry, tired, and dirty, and didn't much look like a person who would ever do anything particularly great. Uzumaki Naruto sat heavily on a curb with a grumble in his stomach, and not enough money to pay for a meager portion of instant cup ramen.

His thoughts often drifted back to a person who had long since disappeared on gray days like these. Uchiha Sasuke, a smug, raven-haired prodigy, whose name tag came with the strained hate/love relationship the two had developed at about 12. Sasuke embodied rainy, mediocre, hungry days. Naruto had even gone so far as to call them "Sasuke Days," which just ended up making him more miserable because he everything happened to remind him of Uchiha, and had started to avoid even emerging from his house for fear of remembering..well../him/.
Naruto had one fair-weather friend named Gaara, who moped around on street-corners with a ring in his nose and a guitar that blended perfectly with the blood-orange of his unnatural hair. They got together when they could, on the days when the electricity went out, if they were bored, if it was a nice day and Naruto needed a frisbee partner. Naruto obviously called those days "Gaara Days," and they were significantly better than the rest.

And some days Naruto was a different person. He had a complex, obviously, some sort of bi-polar mania that he'd never really been able to sort out for lack of parents. Naruto called those days "Kyuubi days," and they stretched on in long and painful bursts. No one wanted to be near, even in the general vicinity of Naruto on a Kyuubi day, called such because Naruto reportedly 'felt strange...almost like an animal. A fox, even.'

The convenient store that Naruto was currently loitering at was owned by a large, white-haired old man named Jiraya. Other than Gaara, the man was the closest thing Naruto had to a friend. It was as if the boy had spent a lifetime of building bridges and bonds only to have them destroyed because he made the decision not to go to college like everyone else. The old pervert was behind the counter all day reading dirty magazines and offering advice. He had even treated Naruto to ramen once, and always gave him free cigarettes.

A droplet of rain wet the tip of Naruto's nose, slightly doused with freckles. His cheeks were each marred by three thin scars on each side. Apparently he had inflicted them on himself when he was very young, probably on a Kyuubi day before he had a name for it. Naruto had eyes that could melt even the hardest of hearts. They were big and blue, akin to the ocean and permanently doleful like a widow constantly in mourning. His shirt was oversized and white, and his pants were so tight they could have been spray-painted on in a garish, visceral shade of orange. His canvas shoes were white (stained brown with dirt) and laceless, and there was a neat little hole in each where his big toe had rubbed through, revealing worn orange socks. There was a strange design on the back of his shirt, as well as most of his clothing, a simple spiral and that was it. Around his strong, tanned neck he had tied an orange bandanna, and his ears were heavy with piercings, along with a small ring in the center of his lower lip.

He could feel his cancer sticks getting wet and soggy in his pocket, but he didn't move. The rain was warm, and he got his early demise free from Jiraya anyway.