Ok. So a long time ago I read a fic where Naruto is very young and finds a like, ghetto type area of Konoha that is sort of its own thing, with its own leader and such. I don't think there was anything beyond like one, maybe two, chapters, and it not much happened. The last update date on it was like years ago so I'm pretty sure it's safe to say it's been abandoned. I can't for the life of me seem to find it again no matter how hard I search.

But it left an impression on me.

Weird as I am, I can read countless many-chaptered fics and still remember the basics of this one little thing. It's been eating at me for a little bit here now for some reason so I'm taking a shot in the dark here and guessing that that's my muse's way of telling me to write something.

That fic, whoever wrote it, and wherever it may be, inspired me to write this.

Hope ya'll like it.

iamthealmightylinefearmypower

The Kumori district was like the dirty little secret of Konoha.

It wasn't so much that no one knew it existed, as it was than no one spoke of it. Many of the larger hidden villages had such places. Even Suna. But none were quite the same as the Kumori district of Konoha.

The 'dark districts' as they were called, were usually still part of their home villages. Their people were still citizens of whatever place the district was located, and they were still held to village law. When it came down to it though, these districts existed for a single purpose.

To handle the nastier side of Shinobi dealings.

There were some things villages would get clients for that they didn't like to think about. The kind of missions that meant leaving children torn and bloody alongside their innocent mothers and their fathers who had made the wrong mistakes. The kind of missions that meant taking orders from men of, questionable, morals.

The kind of missions the 'better' ninja, and civilians would rather not know about.

But the Kumori district was different.

It served its purpose for the great Konohagakure true enough. But unlike its brethren districts, it was not part of Konoha. It was held separate from her. Most of it was beneath her. Huge caverns and tunnels that crisscrossed everywhere beneath the great Leaf Village. Buildings that were made of the earth itself. Its people were quite amused at the thought of all those people treading ignorantly, naively, above their heads.

There were several tunnels that came up and made themselves known. Places to enter the underground district. People knew where they were, they knew what was beneath them; but they felt it was better, safer, not to think about it.

Kumori had her own Kage. It was a title-less one, called simply 'Kage' and nothing more, but a Kage nonetheless. She had her own ninja. Her own citizens. Her own rules. Rules far more lax than those of her sister above ground, and still far stricter in others. She had separated from her sister long ago, and while she continued to serve her sibling's purpose, they would never be one again.

Sometimes those above would come down to make dealings with those below. Sometimes those below would come to handle business up above. The would mingle, but never combine, never lose sight of the fact that while they could co-exist, there was a fine line between them that could never be crossed.

At least… Until a little blond boy came down the East tunnel.

iamthealmightylinefearmypower

The East tunnel was located just a ways outside of Konoha's main gate. It was not the only gate that opened in the East side, but it was called The East Gate, because it was the most trafficked. Since it opened outside of the walls it was used by Kumori ninja to leave for missions and by clients to enter directly into Kumori if they didn't want to go into Konoha. Basically the seedier customers.

It was not guarded. It didn't need to be. District Shinobi were known for being particularly vicious, and they didn't keep anything worth stealing like the forbidden jutsu scrolls Konohagakure possessed. They had no need to guard their entrances against invaders. Even those trying to take over Konoha had no reason to enter. Taking over Kumori would not help them very much in taking over her brighter, purer, sister. Not enough to make much of a difference anyways.

Today, a cold night in October, it was empty. Even if it was not guarded, there were often still people nearby. But tonight was one of those nights during which it was empty of life. At least it was, until a small, bloodied form appeared at the entrance.

He had been running. It was something he was very good at now. After years of running away from the mobs and the people who would seek to see him hurt badly or killed, running was the one thing the child was better at than most. He was only seven. He had been so excited to start at the Ninja Academy. Only for the common attacks to become more brutal and less merciful.

The villagers didn't like a demon attending school with their children.

It was only a few days after his birthday now. He knew those days would probably be particularly bad, but 'Old Man Hokage' spared him from it. He always spent those days with the man who was something like a grandfather to him. He would feed him good ramen and give him some kind of small present. He would even let him wear his hat those days. Often his presents were destroyed by the villagers not long after. But he relished in the time he had them and deemed them precious; his little heart breaking when his presents were ruined and burned.

He had managed to protect this year's gift though.

It was a small, red plush fox. He had told he old man once that he liked the animals. He had seemed very surprised and his smile then had seemed kinda sad, like the boy's smiles sometimes were. The villagers had appeared particularly outraged at the sight of though, and the Shinobi who usually brought him his food money for the week had kept it instead.

It was a cruel act, but the boy almost felt like thanking him.

Because he had no food, he had been forced to dig through the dumpsters on this night. So he had not been in his ragged little apartment building, of which he was the sole occupant, when his usual attackers burned it down. He had run then, before they spotted him.

It was a couple of drunkards that had caught him in the end.

They had beaten him badly. He had curled his tiny, malnourished frame around the little stuffed fox to protect it, and when the alcohol had finally made one of the men faint, he had bit the other one's foot savagely and ran.

The larger crowd caught sight of him not long after. But he kept on running. He ran until he caught sight of the village gates. Old man had told him never to go beyond the gates, but they were his only chance at escape. And so he ran through them. He was right about being able to escape. No one followed him beyond the village walls, though they stood there and yelled and jeered at him.

He wandered through the trees, eventually discovering a tunnel. There was a little sign near it, but he could not read the Kanji. It was a long, dark winding tunnel, steps leading from the top, down into darkness. He could just catch the flickering fire of a lantern a ways down; casting minimal light upon the steps so as one could see where they stepped and not trip.

He swallowed nervously and sniffed the entrance. He had long since learned he could smell very good. His ears were sharp too. He had discovered this when he had commented to the old man about things he could hear in the big red building and the old man had not been able to hear anything until whatever it was was much closer.

He could smell people in the tunnel, not there now, but the lingering smell of them. Perfume, grease, metal like weapons, liquor, wood, and food. Many people traveled through here. He looked to the sign again. He could not read it, but he recognized the characters. He had seen a couple of places with that sign before. Once another tunnel, the other times old, broken, run-down buildings. Old man had told him those were bad places with monsters in them, and not to go anywhere he saw that sign.

Monsters.

Monsters dwelled here.

He was a monster too though, wasn't he?

Isn't that what they always called him, Bakemono?

He was a Bakemono. A monster. Like those who dwelled here. A demon in human form.

He pulled his little plush fox closer and began to descend the steps.

Perhaps, since he was a monster too, he would be welcome here.

iamthealmightylinefearmypower

The tunnel was very long. Made longer still by the steepness of the steps when compared to his tiny form. He could barely step down them without tripping and so was forced to move along on from step to step on his bottom; leaving an ugly trail of blood in his wake.

He hoped the other monsters wouldn't mind the mess.

The air here was stale, and the air was tainted with swirls of dust and dirt. The tunnel of stairs kept twisting and turning everywhere. He would think maybe he was getting close only to move around a bend in the long path and there would be so many more stairs.

His arms shook. He had been moving for awhile. He knew it was slow going, but he was tired as it was from running. And his shoulder had been injured. He wasn't too worried about it. His wounds always healed up very quickly. It had confused him at first why other children would get hurt and still have marks days later. He supposed it was just another part of being a monster. Still, the healing left him feeling weakened and sometimes stiff when the injury was really bad. And he could only move with one arm at a time to help lower himself because he needed to keep hold of his fox.

He paused on what could have been the fiftieth step or the hundredth and leaned his head against the wall. He breathed harshly for a few minutes with his eyes closed. It was so tempting to just stay there and sleep but he needed to keep doing. He wanted to find the other monsters.

He daydreamed as he went, about what it would be like if the monsters took him in. He could have a monster mommy and a monster daddy; and even though they were demons they would be happy together. He hoped they didn't eat him instead for being such a small and weak little Bakemono instead of big and strong.

He was almost ready to give up when the steps moved around a turn again. He made it passed the bend and glanced down. He looked back to his movements only to jerk his gaze back to it and gasp. There were nine more steps.

Kyuu. Nine. Just nine.

He jumped to his feet in the hopes to make it down quicker, only to stumble across the steep steps, just barely managing to keep himself up until he reached the bottom and fell face-first into the dirt. He coughed and wobbled as he brought himself to a sitting position, checking his little fox for any damage before he bothered to look up.

It was a cavern. Not a very large cavern, but a cavern all the same; with high ceilings covered in… Stalagmites? Stalactites? Those pointy things.

And on the wall opposite him was a door.

It was huge, maybe just a little under half as tall and half as wide as the main gate. It was still very large though. It was painted a dark reddish brown color that was different shades in different spots. It was framed by large black stones and there was a smaller door cut into the bigger door. He frowned at that, but then decided that maybe the big door was for bigger monsters while the little one was for normal-sized ones. It was slightly darker than the rest of the door and held to it my strong dark iron hinges.

He sniffed the door and then jerked back, eyes wide. It smelt like blood. It wasn't paint. He gulped but gathered his courage. Many of the villagers called him a murderer. He had never killed anyone, but maybe it was normal for a Bakemono to kill. And he was one of them wasn't he? So maybe they wouldn't kill him.

He struggled forwards and squeezed his fox before squaring his tiny shoulders and advancing to open the smaller door.

It was now or never.

iamthealmightylinefearmypower

Sugoi…

It was incredible. This place…

The earthy ceiling was high enough above him that it almost didn't feel as though he was underground. All around him were building made of dirt, clay, and stone. The windows had no glass, but were instead covered by bright fabrics. The doors were large and made of wood.

There were people.

Everywhere…

There were all kinds. Many men and women. Teenagers. A handful of children. They were all so… different. In Konoha, many of the people were the same. Those who looked different than the majority usually belonged to clans; and clansmen always looked similar to each other too.

But these people…

There was hair of every shade. Black. Brown. Red. Blond. Even some colors that were rather strange. Green. Blue. Purple. Even white! The skin colors varied too. Many of those he saw in Konoha were light skinned or slightly tanned. But the skin of those in this place ranged from so pale it was almost white to so dark a shade of brown it was nearly black. Some were tall. Some short. Some were dressed in plain clothing. Some in bright colors and patterns. Some in barely any clothing at all!

He wandered through them. It was a marketplace he found himself in. Or something similar. There were shops mixed with little stalls. All kinds of things being sold. It was strange. If he wandered into the market in Konoha he was glared at by everyone.

But here…

It was like he was invisible. A couple people gave him a cursory glance. But most ignored him entirely. They paid him no attention whatsoever.

He grinned.

It was incredible to him. To be ignored so completely. It was like a dream come true. He may have wanted good attention like any child. But being ignored was still so much more favorable to being treated badly and beaten.

He wandered happily through the strange marketplace and looked at everything. He passed a stall selling cooked squid. The one next to it sold kunai and shuriken. It was so strange here. In Konoha, the stores that sold ninja weaponry had their own section, unless it was a clan owned shop; in which case it was usually close to the clan compound.

The ninja themselves all seemed to live within the compounds. If they weren't part of a clan they typically lived in apartment buildings. His own building was near one of those areas. All in all, the Shinobi kept themselves mostly separated from the civilians.

But here it was so strange. It seemed as though the ninja were mixed in with the civilians and he could barely tell the difference between the two. He was glad though. If these people were monsters then it meant that monsters really could become ninja still. He could be a ninja even though he was a Bakemono.

He wandered through the crowd and eventually the people thinned out. He found himself in a different area. There were still shops here, but many of them seemed to be filled with women. He blushed at the sight of them. They wore clothes that were very revealing and he knew women were not supposed to do that. Their kimonos were brightly colored with pretty designs on them and it seemed like the prettier the woman, the more beautiful their kimono was. He didn't see any other children here and he swallowed.

He shouldn't be in this place. He was sure of that.

"Sweetie?" He looked up with wide blue eyes. The woman was gorgeous. Pale skin surrounded by long, wavy chocolate colored locks. Thick lashed framed dark emerald eyes. She had a round face, and large lips colored a pinkish color. Her kimono was a deep red with pretty purple flowers all over it and was held very low, revealing a decent bust with slits in the sides up to hips; allowing her legs to be seen. Tiny, this, wooden sandals adorned small feet with toenails painted a dark purple.

Women in Konoha did not dress like that.

He ducked his red face into his fox. She chuckled warmly at him and he glanced back up at her. Her eyes… They were so warm. There was happiness in them, and concern. She smiled gently at him. "Are you lost honey?" He shrugged. "Where's your mommy and daddy baby?"

He mumbled into his fox. "What was that sweetie?"

He looked up at her and swallowed. "I don't have any…" He spoke very quietly. "The villagers said they didn't want me because I'm a demon…"

"Villagers?" She looked confused, then she eyed him and those pretty green eyes locked onto the thin, whisker markings on his face and widened in recognition. He hid his face again. Here it comes… Everyone always hates him when they notice his whiskers…

He flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder and look up frightened. She didn't look angry though. Rather, there was a small, sad smile on her face. He didn't understand that expression in her eyes. But he recognized it. The old man looked at him like that sometimes. "Oh, honey…" She sighed and ran a hand with painted purple nails through his hair. "You're from Konoha right?" He nodded. "How'd you end up down here?" It was asked softly, as though she wasn't really asking him, but he felt the need to answer all the same.

"Old man said there were monsters down here… I thought… Since I'm a monster too…"

Something angry flashed in those eyes before she sighed. "Where do you live honey?"

He sniffed. "In… In a apartment… But…" He bit his lip. "It's all burned up now…"

There was that strange almost-but-not-quite-sad look again. "Oh sweetie…" He yelped in surprise as she suddenly picked him up. He blushed as his face was pushed too close to her chest but then… Ladies were not supposed to dress this way… But… It felt so warm. He pulled his fox close and laid his head on her breasts. It felt warm, and safe, and he could hear the pretty woman's heart beat.

It was nice…

Starved for physical attention as he was, the child closed his eyes and clung to the scantily clad woman. Said woman watched him sadly as she began to walk away, understanding in her eyes. She knew this was probably the first time the blond boy, who was smaller than was healthy for his age, had ever been held. She signaled with her hand to one of the other women from her brothel that she was leaving, and carried the little boy and his fox away…

iamthealmightylinefearmypower

Hana Taki was no fool.

She was a 'working woman' in Kumori of all places, and as such she knew a thing or two about the evil of the world. She had seen people be killed, tortured, even raped, before her very eyes. She had seen it all the day her tiny village in tea country was destroyed. It was why she had come to Konoha in the first place, hoping to find refuge.

But it was a time of war, and the great Leaf Village closed its gates on her.

So she had gone to Kumori. It had been an accident that she ended up there, but when she asked them for sanctuary, if had been given to her. She had gone through training, and had done some time as a Kumori nin. But that time had passed, and though she could have chosen any other job; she chose to work in a brothel. Some of the girls there owed debts, and were working to pay them off. They would leave and find jobs elsewhere one day. But she had chosen her career.

She enjoyed sex. It was her nature. But despite that, and her job, she was not some common whore. She had maybe six or seven regulars and they were all Kumori nin she had once worked with. She didn't sleep with anyone else.

She had a soft spot for children; always had. It was an injury which took the ability to have any of her own from her that led to her leaving the ninja life in the first place. But she had always retained a fondness for the young ones. So it was really no surprise that she would immediately notice the little boy with bright, messy blond hair wandering through the Red Light Sector.

He was so small. Dressed in little orange shorts and a long white t-shirt that nearly hid the bottoms from sight. There were bruises on him; bruises and blood dirt. He was filthy really. And he clutched a tiny stuffed fox so close it was as though his life depended upon it. The mother in her had risen to the surface at the sight of him. He was just down-right pitiful after all.

And then she had seen the whiskers.

She was no fool. She knew very well what those marking symbolized. He was the Jinchuuriki. The holder of the Kyuubi no Kitsune. It made her blood boil to realize how he was treated. Especially since she knew WHO he was. She had fought side by side with Kushina. She had seen the woman's infatuation with the Yondaime. And anyone with eyes could see that golden blonde was not a common hair color in Konoha.

Did people really think it was coincidence that his hair was the EXACT same shade as the Forth Hokage's? Or that his eyes had the EXACT same shape as Kushina's? A woman who many knew the Yondaime to be interested in and who just happened to disappear from the face of the Earth seven months before the fox's attack.

Or were they just so blinded by hatred of the bloody fox not to open their damn eyes?

Hana was no fool.

But oh was she pissed.

Iamthealmightylinefearmypower

Somewhere along the way the exhaustion that had been plaguing the little set in and he fell asleep. It was expected, and he had been fighting it since the stairs. Even in his sleep though, he clutched his toy fox like a lifeline. He slept soundly, feeling very warm and safe. This was an almost unheard of occurrence for him, as even in his sleep it seemed as though he was just waiting to be beaten. Motherly green eyes looked at him sadly as he slept; pitying him for the life he lived.

This child called himself a monster as though it was fact. He had come to a place he was told had monsters in the home of finding a home among them. She hated those who had made him this way with a passion. It wasn't right. For such a beautiful child to consider himself as such was not right.

And she'd be damned if she was going to let him continue to suffer.

She couldn't take the boy in. Not completely. Whether she had chosen it or not, she lived and worked in brothel, and that was no place for a child. But he needed a home. He could not remain in Konoha. She would not allow it. And even if the little one couldn't live with her, she would be there for him. She would cast herself in the role of a mother, even if she felt she had no right to the title, because that was what he needed. He needed a mother.

But he also needed a home.

And perhaps someone to look to as a father.

The boy would be a ninja one day. She knew this. It was an unavoidable fact considering the being he held within him. He would never be allowed any other career. He was at the right age to have perhaps even begun at the academy. He would need a ninja in his life because of this. But he could not live with a Kumori nin. They worked on cycles. There was a cycle where they stayed within the district and worked here. And a cycle in which they were on active duty. A ninja would not be around to raise him. But they could help him with his training when they were about.

She knew some people.

Kumori did not have an orphanage. There was a group of children, from small ones to those already beginning the Shinobi way of life who lived in one of the more run-down sectors of Kumori. If all else failed they would take him in. And he may end up there regardless.

But not if she could help it.

Right now he was damaged and in need of support. The torment and abuse he had received could have long term mental consequences, and he needed to be taken care of. The child-gangs were just as damaged as he was, and he needed a home if he was to heal.

If she was to ensure he would remain in Kumori.

But she couldn't think of anyone to put him with. At least not anyone who would be around and also willing to take him in. Which was why she was on her way to see the Kage. The man would want to know about the Jinchuuriki in his District, and about the treatment he had received above ground. He would also be willing to fight to keep the boy here, where he might have a chance at family and friends; rather than let him continue to be subjected to the hell that was Konohagakure.

She wandered through crowded and deserted streets alike, going down different tunnels and stairways, winding through many turns and paths until she stood before a small building. It was an unassuming place, a bit dilapidated in its appearance, and set between an old restaurant that made good teriyaki and a clothing store whose customers were mainly women in her own line of work. The building's doorway was covered by a ragged red tarp and a sign for a blacksmiths sat above it.

She wandered in and moved passed the workers without giving them a second glance. She felt eyes on her but paid them no heed; knowing they wouldn't get in her way. She entered the back room and went down the stairs into a dark basement, moving a hidden panel of wood that revealed itself to be a doorway.

It was a small tunnel, with only enough room for a group to walk single file. She followed its twisting path that eventually turned into more stairs before it once again leveled out. It opened into a small cavern.

Before her stood a rather well-kept green door; framed on either side by Shinobi in black, with plain black masks covering their face in a dark mimicry of the white masks of the hunters. But these masks had no signs upon them. They stood still as statues, not moving even as she came forward to knock upon the heavy oak.

Though they never turned their head she felt their gaze, and the tenseness of their bodies. She would never attack the man beyond the doorway but knew that if she ever did they would remove her head from her shoulders. They were Kuroi Yabun. The elite of Kumori. Even better than Anbu. Few in number, there were perhaps only ever four or five squads at a time. But they were deadly in a way no other nin could be.

"Enter." The voice was deep and rough, scratchy. She obeyed.

The door creaked slightly as she opened it and walked in without hesitation. The room was rather plain. A simple office with walls lined in wood paneling. A dark desk stood before her with small pile of paperwork here and there and a couple of scrolls. Another door was on the wall behind it, a single Kuroi Yabun a silent sentinel before it. There was a high backed wooden chair that matched the desk sitting behind it, though no chairs sat in front.

In this chair sat a man. He was thickly built. She knew when he stood that he was tall, and his limbs were thick with corded muscle. He wore a simple grey tunic that was loose but didn't cover his arms, and instead revealed the strength of his limbs. Hidden by the desk were similarly plain black pants and a red sash that held up a single, rather average looking katana.

Dark grey eyes looked at her out of a timeless face topped with somewhat spiky dark brown hair. There were wrinkles around the eyes and just a few graying hairs interspersed throughout the hair and the short goatee that hung beneath lips set in a tight line. It was impossible to determine his age. He could have been anywhere from thirty to fifty.

She offered the man a shallow, respectful bow, shifting the child so as not to disturb him.

"Kage."

iamthealmightylinefearmypower

Ok. So that's chapter one. Should I continue? Or just trash it? It's up to you my lovies.