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Sorry I took so long :P But here I am with the second chapter of the story!


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(Chapter 2)

"So, Ike, have you decided yet?" asked Naruto, both curious and amused seeing the contemplative look on the girl's face; she was very serious about selecting the first photograph: she was gently biting her bottom lip, like she always did when thinking about something important –that was a habit she had picked up from her 'Ojii-chan'.

Finally, after another two minutes, Ike reached out her hand toward the chosen photo and she gave it to the blond man seated in the centre of the couch. "This one."

Naruto took the polished paper in hand with a laugh at the determined tone used by the teenaged girl. After one last glance at his 'niece', Naruto turned to look at the photograph he was holding and a sigh escaped his lips a bit too harshly than he intended, when he saw Ike's first choice: the image there was an old one; one he didn't show often (come to think of it, only one person had seen it before) because it portrayed a moment of his life he didn't really care to remember.

It was the picture of a five years-old Naruto, shadowed by the tree he was seated under; he was curled up on himself, his arms around the knees and his head resting on them so no one would see the boy's expression; near his feet a corner of something dark grey. The place was empty, save for the child (and the person who took the photo), and in the background the hint of a clear blue sky contrasted greatly with the sadness one could feel seep through the picture.

Still with his eyes trained on the boy that was he himself, Naruto smiled in a forlorn way that almost made Ike cringe. "Why this one first, Ike?" he wanted to know.

"Because I want to know why you look so sad, Ojii-chan." she had been struck by the photograph: it was so different from the way she was used to see her 'uncle' normally; he'd never been one to fall pray to sadness and curl in a corner all alone, he had never lost his smile and will to live. This was what she'd always thought, so seeing Naruto look so alone… she realized she didn't actually know much about her Ojii-chan's past.

"Oh… well, uhm…" Naruto tried to stall the explanation but the look Ike was giving him was much like her mother's when she was somewhat worried for him. "Ridiculous…! A girl worried for me: what a blow to my ego, damn!" he thought shaking his blond head. "All right."

"Spill it!"

"Calm down, will you?? Or no story for you miss." Ike seemed quite offended at being called 'miss' but didn't comment on it, anxious as she was to hear what Naruto had to say.

"I don't know who took this photo –I never found out- nor when it was taken 'cause at that time I happened to go to that park quite often: it was my safe place, if you want to call it that."

Ike had her eyes glued to the blond man she had came to care so much about, trying to take in everything that was passing the shield Naruto had put up without her noticing. Her dark green eyes winded when she saw this: just how much of his childhood had been left out? Why didn't mom and dad tell her anything about it? Was it that they didn't trust her?

She loved her Ojii-chan, so why…?

"I remember one of the worst times, though, and I wouldn't be surprised if whoever chose me as a 'model', saw me that day…"

-- Naruto's POV --

I had been feeling down since the day before because it was my parents death's anniversary and the wounds –emotional wounds, that is- were still very fresh for a child of that age; plus I had left the orphanage where I had been living for the past six or seven months only some time before… I still was not used to the people who had taken me in: my foster parents, then, were not what one would say affectionate; on the contrary, they were pretty much indifferent about my feelings or concerns.

They had decided to take me in just because of the aids they would have received for taking care of an orphan. I was a source for money, nothing more, nothing less.

But I guess that was okay… I mean, of course I was left to care for myself and everything, but I thought that was better than continue to live in that orphanage; actually there wasn't much of a difference but I couldn't do anything about it –I was barely five, after all.

Anyway, that day I had been feeling sad and lonely, I couldn't focus on what the teachers were saying during the classes –I didn't care to listen to them- to the point that one of them reprimanded me in front of everybody else. I don't need to say that the words were completely lost to me, they didn't even reach me; I don't even know who the teacher was.

It only got worse from there.

At the end of the school day, some bullies two or three years older than me stopped and cornered me while I was about to exit the building; they kicked and punched me without a reason (not that that kind of people really need an excuse to do it) for a good five minutes before the distant sound of footsteps scared them away… I remember I stumbled a bit to get up but nothing more before taking off towards the street. I didn't even see who the person who'd 'saved' me had been, but I wasn't going to risk falling in the hands of yet another bully.

When I got home, my foster parents saw the forming bruises and demanded to know what I had gotten myself into; they thought whatever happened had been ignited by the likes of me, so they told me to get over it and learn not to cause trouble around the neighbourhood or else there would be problems for them –and they didn't want problems because of a kid like me.

I remember they didn't even let me explain; they never listened to my side of the story.

That had just the effect of bring me further down my path of sadness and loneliness… I pretended to lock myself up in my room but instead I sneaked out through my window and climbed down a ladder strategically placed there (my foster parents seemed oblivious to the fact that it was there; or simply didn't think I'd use it to go out by myself without them knowing…).

Before long, I had arrived to a special place that brought me both peace and a strong sense of loss: the cemetery where my real parents laid buried. I felt I needed to be there because it was the anniversary of their passing, because I needed to disillusion –maybe- myself that I could feel their presence beside me, because I felt so alone in that moment…

I sat down under the tree that grew beside the graves, my back touching the bark, my legs pulled close to the chest. I stayed there in silence for a time, then I started talking quietly… -not so much- pretending I was spilling all my frustration, anguish, loneliness directly to 'mom and dad' and not to the grey tomb stones next to me where their names were carved.

I can't really say how much time I spend blabbing on about everything that came to mind… after a while, I feel asleep; emotional exhaustion maybe a bit too heavy for a five-years-old to sustain on his own, I guess that's what one would say.

When I woke up I noticed immediately it had started to get late and was about to get up, when I saw a photograph resting near my feet. I picked it up and realized it was me the one sleeping under the tree… I panicked, afraid that some freak was spying on me, but after a quick glance around I calmed down wondering about the image in my hand.

I stood there three or four minutes more before deciding to, reluctantly, make my way back towards the foster house before the other two found I had wandered off on my own.

--

"… And that's it, I guess." finished Naruto with a slight shrug of his shoulders. He looked up from the photo he was still holding and saw the frown on Ike's face. "What is it, Ike?"

"… Those bastards!" the girl was utterly pissed. "Treating a five-years-old kid like that! If I knew where they live I'd have gone there and kicked the shit out of them!!"

"Ahaha!! Well, I don't think there's no need for that: not longer after that episode, my godfather came and 'kidnapped' me… not before having given hell to my foster parents for having made me miserable. I believe they still remember that day very clearly." said the blond man with a grin. Ike immediately brighten up at the news and shouted a 'good job, ero-sennin!' throwing a punch in the air.


Hope you liked it!

Ja ne,
Temari 88