It was a sunny day in the village of Konoha – sunlight streamed through the carefully-cultivated shadows, filling the corners

It was a sunny day in the village of Konoha – sunlight streamed through the carefully-cultivated shadows, filling the corners and nooks and crannies with a warm, gentle light. Naruto dozed, lingering on the borderline between awareness and sleep, sitting on a tree branch.

He felt like something was growing, and stretching, and it made him feel old, like the world was changing. Day turned to night quickly, though, and he still sat, eyes half-lidded and the blue luminous in the darkness.

Even the crickets didn't dare chirp at night, around the Hidden Village, but the owls didn't really care all too much of the cricket's opinions.

And this is why one perched itself on Naruto's head and made itself comfortable, unknowing of what was occurring in the young pariah's mind. Or, rather, his stomach.

Deep inside his mindscape, claws clicked against the cold steel of the floor. The fox peered restlessly into a small, shallow pool that loitered in a corner, unseen unless you were looking for it. Kyuubi's eyes darted over to the bars, and teeth glowed in the darkness.

"What's this? What's this?" The sewers of Naruto's mind parroted back, 'What's this? What's this?' impeccably. The fox sat down by the pool, tails forming a protective circle around it, as if something would disrupt it.

On a whim, he broke into hysterical laughter, rising from the pool to lurch against the bars, which creaked in protest. Blue flashed to a vibrant red, unknown to the owner's eyes, and the ninetails slid down to stare at the hallways beyond the bars.

He began in a whisper, like last time, because he'd buried these memories long, long ago, and when he did, it was deep – and grabbing hold of the truth, for the very first time – a motherly voice, speaking in his own native language that made human's ears bleed, 'nomorelies.'

"Wolf was a . . . good teacher. And the fox-kit grew, and shed the layers of baby fat, and then he became a fighter. Wolf, the last time they'd sparred, had gotten a deep wound on his hind leg, and the pure, sheer hysteria in his laughter cut through the air and sank into his ears as he limped away.

"You see, he hadn't gotten his second tail yet – it was a barely-formed stub on his rump, right next to his proudly-earned first – you know, some Demons didn't even have one tail. The fox-kit went in search for his mother, but – get this!"

Hysteria set in, and he laughed and laughed for the next few minutes, and the sound pierced his ears and heart and made them bleed but he kept laughing.

"Did you know? Demons have no –hahahahaha – mothers; they are bastard sons," He spat out the word, tails lashing behind him, "Of the Earth and the energy of a dead Demon, born by the Earth and Stone and Fire and made by the dead– never to know – love. But – our Demonling didn't know this, you know. . .

"Wolf came with him. One day, the fox-kit asked Wolf what a mother was, though. Wolf had looked thoughtful for a few moments, and answered, 'A mother is there to . . . yesyesyes! I know! Make you – more powerful, and – and – they die and protect you and – kill you if you do something wrong!'

"You see, Wolf had been to the Human Realm once or twice, in the guise of a too-pale boy with too-dark hair and eyes. His fur had always been covered with tattoos and art, and even then, his human form drew. Later on, he lost himself in the Human traditions, after his mate died, and we never saw him again.

"Wolf was my – his first and last friend, you know. Anyway, the Not-Kitling had gazed up at Wolf in a sort of awe, and they'd continued on. They did find an old and ancient Demon that lived in a cave, and many, many things that reached beyond the imagination to just describe.

"But the Fox did not find his mother, but he did learn the meaning of love by loving something that didn't exist. And there, he earned his second Tail, and learned never to love again, because Mothers didn't exist in the Demon Realms, and there was no time for love when there was eternal war and blood and fighting.

"He learned to give up on pretty dreams, because in the Demon Realms, you had no time for them, and if you did, you would die."

The owl fled with the coming of dawn, and the sleepy, but satisfied five (and a half) year old stirred, clambering down from the tree, red eyes exploding in a swirl of purple and red and turning to blue again.

All in all, it had been a wonderful story for the summer.

Now, just to go to the Old Man to ask him what a 'bastard' was.

(He'd sputtered and flailed helplessly in his chair, and then told him to ask Iruka-sensei. This elicited the same reaction, and when they'd asked him who'd told him the word, he'd shrugged, getting the gnawing feeling inside of him again, like he was being spread too thin.)

(Naruto, as a cure, went and devoured an unholy amount of Ramen. On Iruka and the Old Man's account, of course.)