"Naruto is a strange one, certainly. What do I say about him that you don't already know? All right, if I had to guess, I'd say that the civilians in Konoha largely define his personality. The ninja are neutral, mostly, but almost everything he says and everything he does could be traced to something someone said to him, if you knew what you were looking for. His pranks, his thing for ramen, his crush on that girl he goes to the academy with… it's all part of what he's been told. I'm assuming that a core part of him is his defiance, or he'd be a headcase already. What? Yeah, I know who he is, and it doesn't bother me. I like to think my old sensei beat some common sense into me."

The Elder Son

Triple Enigmas

Heart pounding, breathing ragged, Naruto Uzumaki laughed like a only a fugitive can and pushed himself faster, bounding from one roof to the next with intent to evade capture by a superior force with knowledge of his modus operandi. In other words, he was running from Mizuki. Again. It was six in the morning, and already the chunin assigned to be his guardian was chasing him through Konoha with his hair dyed pink and a pair of underwear glued to the back of his head. They were panties, actually, and they were pink too. Mizuki had no idea where Naruto got them from, but he has a suspicion…

"You little brat!" he shouted, eyes fixed on Naruto as he chased the annoying kid down the line of apartment buildings and shops. "Tsubaki is gonna' tear me a new one for this!" A windmill shuriken as large as Naruto was tall whizzed past him, and the blond jinchuriki squealed as he bent awkwardly at the waist to dodge the weapon. It shot past, rolled on the ground, and sank two inches into the support beam of a supply store. Mizuki growled angrily and rushed forward, intent on ripping his weapon from the building and going after Naruto again, but the Uzumaki was gone by the time he got back.

"Damn it," he groaned, tugging fruitlessly on the panties in his hair. "How am I supposed to explain this to Iruka if I can't get my girlfriend's panties out of my hair?"

"You should probably invest in a hat," called out a sympathetic passing civilian. Mizuki frowned, thinking, then shrugged. "That'll do. Hat now, I can get Naruto at the Academy."

XXX

It took twenty minutes before Naruto finally felt safe enough to lower his guard. The tarp fell, pooling around his ankles as he let go of his death grip on the edge and released the tense position of his body that allowed him to conceal his body against a brick wall. He heaved a sigh, composed himself, and promptly burst into laughter. Whatever Mizuki would do to with him later, it was worth it! The guy looked like a boy version of Sakura. Oh, and that girl who came into his room at two in the morning was 'Tsubaki'… Interesting, but only if he could find out where she lived and lead Mizuki there.

"Who are you?" asked a bland, emotionless voice, and Naruto flinched. How had a kid his age had managed to sneak up on him? More importantly, why was he threatening to kill him? The boy was taller than him, with black hair and a downsized version of the regular ANBU uniform. The kunai at Naruto's throat never wavered.

"I'm Naruto Uzumaki, and I-!" Naruto shouted, only to be silenced by the strange boy jabbing his knife into his throat. Reluctantly, he fell silent. "How did you enter this building, Naruto?" the boy asked, and Naruto pointed mutely at the open window. A small breeze blew in, fluttering the curtain, and the boy sweatdropped. "That is a reasonable answer," he reasoned to himself.

"Where is this, anyways?" Naruto asked, pushing the kunai away from his throat with one finger. "Kinda creepy, if you ask me."

"My room," the boy answered, dropping his hand and sheathing the knife with practiced skill. There was a futon in the corner, a rack of weapons against the far wall, and a clock hung over the door. The walls weren't even painted. The intruding ninja-to-be felt a brief pang of sadness, which was quickly overwhelmed by complete indifference. "You should get some wallpaper," Naruto commented, dancing backward as the boy slashed at him. The motion lacked any venom.

"You should leave," said the boy (was it a girl? Naruto had no clue, mostly because his voice was high and his style was unisex). "If Danzo finds you here, you'll-" He froze, all of his muscles, bunching painfully and his tongue going limp. A trio of black lines snaked over his body, and a dark veil fell over his eyes as he keeled over, motionless. Naruto stared at him for a few seconds as he lay still, convulsing every once in a while, then quietly slipped away and out of the ANBU headquarters.

XXX

"Hey Mizuki, you-BWAHAHAHA!" Iruka roared, slapping his friend of twelve years heartily on the shoulder. The elder chunin took it with as much grace as could be expected, but eventually the laughing wore down his nerves to the point that he slugged Iruka in the stomach. Being ninja, the blow didn't really mean anything, but after that he tried his best to stifle the laughter.

"Man, you look like that kid in your class, but even girlier!" Iruka howled, and promptly slapped a hand over his mouth. "Sorry, sorry."

"Whatever," the chunin of perpetually unusual hair grumbled, anxiously fixing the tight latex forehead protector he'd bought with the last couple ryo in his pocket that morning. Needless to say, it was both ugly and cheap, but somehow more dignified than homosexual hair. "Yuk it up, the brat will get you too. See who's laughing then."

"Oh, you mean the demon did this to you?" Iruka whispered, feigning shock. "Oh dear, it seems you've gotta burn your hair now, or the foul thing's stench will seep into your brain! See if Tsubaki likes you then!"

"Don't bring her into this!" Mizuki shouted, kicking Iruka in the ankle. The other shinobi stumbled into a wooden fence, and he allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction.

"Jeez, what's got you all wound up this morning? It ain't the kid, he's done worse, so it must be…"

"Must be?"

"Ha! You got laid, didn't you! Woo hoo, Mizuki shoots, Mizuki scores!" Iruka pantomimed throwing a basketball at an imaginary hoop, which was countered by an imaginary kunai between the eyes.

"Damn, I wish I could get a piece of that," the younger of the two moaned, and Mizuki finally slapped his hand over the man's mouth.

"You idiot," he hissed, "there are children here!"

"Muh-buh-pabn-blee-blang-lang-klang-pleh- ptaah!" Iruka spat. "I said, you have her panties hanging out the back of your hat-thing. They're pink and they look like they belong to a twelve-year-old."

Mizuki quickly stuffed Tsubaki's underwear back into his impromptu headgear, glanced at the clock, and shot his partner the finger. Iruka waved cheerily and bounced off to his Academy class. Grudgingly, Mizuki did the same. The gales of childish laughter that greeted him at the door told him that his hair was still showing.

XXX

She was still a mystery in his book. Naruto was no slouch at coming in late to the Academy, so he knew plenty of things that other students didn't about them. Shikamaru was late because he liked watching clouds, and occasionally just stopped walking and did nothing for minutes on end, until his mother left the house and gently pushed him onward. Kiba was late because he was disorganized and his older sister would chat his ear off when she got the chance. Sakura was always at the student training grounds exactly two minutes and twenty seconds before class started, only to have Ino drag her off to places Naruto never got around to finding. Sasuke spent as much time as possible after his parents left to scour Konoha for his brother. And tomatoes, Naruto found out. And Sakura. He wondered briefly if that was where she and Ino went off to every week.

The riddle was Hinata. Hinata Hyuga was the epitome of average in every class, talked in a stuttering near-whisper when she talked at all, and sat in a far corner of the class. Had he not actively been studying her unusual behavior in preparation for this day, Naruto would never have realized that she was borderline frosty to everyone except him. Her blank white eyes contorted in rage when Academy students tried to speak to her, and teachers only received marginally better treatment. After a few months of the rage treatment when they were all seven or so, even the outgoing girls abandoned her. Naruto knew that she lived with a brown-haired kunoichi with Inuzuka tattoos by the edge of Konoha's residential zone, had a bloodline limit that made her look blind, and spent most of her free time punching training dummies.

But why was she late all the time? Naruto ran across the roofs of the buildings below, avoiding criticism from angry civilians and concerned shinobi alike. A few minutes later, just before ninja training began, he halted on the roof of her apartment building and waited.

Shortly, the front door of the building opened and out stepped Hinata's guardian, followed closely by a man whose face was covered by a mask. He was to high to hear their animated conversation, though they both wore headbands. Naruto waited patiently for them both to pass, then watched as Hinata slipped out the front door and into the streets. To his delight, she turned left at a corner that lead directly away from the Academy, a sign that today was an off day for her. Mentally cackling, he followed the pale-eyed girl as she walked across Konoha, a journey of about half an hour. When a wall clock hanging in front of a café reached eight, Naruto winced. Iruka was much more reasonable before he had to do the paperwork for lateness. Well, he and Hinata could take the hit together.

She walked a little more, until Naruto was absolutely certain that there was only one place they could be going. Past a few more buildings, and the old Hyuga district loomed low in the sky, the imposing mansion of the Main House reaching for the clouds. A window on the ground floor was broken.

Hinata reached the wrought-iron gates and withdrew a key. She stopped for a moment, then apparently thought better of it and simply scaled the barrier, a feat that her follower copied a few minutes later. She used the key to enter the mansion, however, forcing Naruto to use the broken window. As the Uzumaki tumbled into the massive building, what hit him first was the stench. The halls reeked of sulfur and decay, rot easily visible in giant patches across wooden surfaces. Doors hung off hinges, slash marks marred the walls, and the floor was mulched into fine sawdust in some places.

Despite this, it was easy to see why Hinata might like coming here every once in a while. High arches graced the ceilings, the walls were decorated with intricate artwork, and windows were massive enough to allow titanic rays from the rising sun to filter through the particles of dust, lending the mansion a peaceful atmosphere. Naruto inhaled, watching the motes of dirt swirl in his breath.

Hinata walked into a small room sequestered near the back of the building, its door only marked by a stylized triskelion superimposed over a Konoha leaf emblem. He waited, and she came back out with a stuffed animal of some kind with her, age having marred its features into an unrecognizable blob of juvenile affection.

He could feel the tension building in his blood, swishing in his veins. Hinata's footsteps were slowing, her body going rigid as she walked purposefully back to the main foyer of the house. Naruto followed eagerly.

She stopped in front of a wall, which he assumed was at one point pure white and unmarred. Now, an ugly ruddy brown stain splashed across its surface in a jagged semicircle, splattered by a cosmic painter's careless brush. A tanto was buried to the hilt in the floor, its wooden handle cracked and just barely clinging to the blade it was attached to. But the most stunning feature of the area was the two-meter-long swastika carved into the wallpaper, each stroke precise and immutable.

Hinata sank to her knees, clutching her childhood stuffed animal all the harder. A faint whimper echoed through the house, and Naruto took an unconscious step back. Privacy wasn't a concern that registered with the blond boy, but a part of him screamed that he had just crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed.

Suddenly, Hinata's head shot up, the veins in her temples bulging unnaturally. Her eyes swiveled uncannily in their sockets to face Naruto directly, and the shocked whisper, "Naruto?" drifted towards him. A blind panic overcame him, and the orange-clad ninja turned and fled, pushing himself harder than he'd been forced to before.

XXX

Sasuke looked both ways, eyeing the boys around him in what passed for a ninja schoolyard, ensuring that none were looking his way. Before the bell sounded, he made his way lazily with his classmates for a while, careful to remain near the back of the crowd. With a sudden burst of speed, the Uchiha flickered away from the school to a nearby building, waited patiently for the chunin guards to stop searching for reticent, unwilling scions of prominent clans hiding from the rigorous, painful regime of ninja training. Not that he was unhappy with his career being chosen for him (big-brother-Itachi was so cool!) by his father. But sometimes...

Sometimes being a ninja was hard. It put a great mental strain on those who practiced the art, having to carry on normal lives while donning armour and killing men. Psychopaths did well in the job, as did the extremely altruistic, but other had to develop coping mechanisms. Some went mad, lost their minds and their morals. Gambling, drinking, promiscuity, narcotics, daredevil behaviour, heightened devotion, fragmented psyches... therapists in Konohagakure were extremely well paid and in hi demand. Some clans even had private psychiatrists, the Uchiha in particular. Something about the development of the Sharingan required traumatic circumstances to the ninja in question.

A long time ago, Itachi confided that he relieved himself by watching children's television. Sasuke had laughed at him, but Itachi had simply frowned. "Don't be so quick to find it funny," the Uchiha heir had scolded, "because one day, it'll be you."

Oh, how right he was. Sasuke hadn't even killed a man yet, but the agonizing process of mock-fighting for his life, kicking children as young as he was into bloody messes under the watchful eyes of the ruthless Iruka Umino, defending himself from the same, and Sasuke had a panic attack at age seven.

He found his happy place in a small grassy area near Training Ground 214, a little-used and little-serviced area in the countryside of the Land of Fire. Ten minutes or so a day, and he could handle murdering puppies with his bare hands.

As he arrived, Sakura looked out from the daisy chain that she was presently tearing into tiny pieces and throwing into the wind. "Hey, Sasuke," she called out, and promptly ignored him thereafter. Ino was probably somewhere else, then.

That was all right, he supposed. He could wait for her. There was still time.

XXX

Tsubaki was mildly concerned when she got home without her panties or bra under her clothes, and was disappointed to realize that she couldn't remember how she'd gotten there or what had happened last night. There was alcohol involved, she remembered, and large quantities of air that smelled like testosterone, frequent at establishments that catered to shinobi. Nevertheless, she set out to find her missing underwear and possibly meet the man who'd taken her virginity (not that she planned to admit it). Hopefully Mizuki wouldn't be too pissed.

A simple tracking technique revealed the personal items to be close enough together to retrieve without much difficulty, but why were they at the Ninja Academy? Tsubaki put off writing a long-overdue report that morning (citing hangover) to walk there, feeling distinctly naked and uncomfortable.

That feeling was enhanced by her complete and utter shock at seeing her bra flying at the top of a flagpole wrapped in razor wire and chakra-sensitive exploding tags.

Twelve lacerations, two third-degree burns and a major dose of embarrassment later, the dark-haired chuniha had retrieved her bra and was thoroughly on the warpath. Now, the classroom on the far left of the building at head height, eh? With her luck her panties probably where some class full of snot-nosed kids could see them...

Hopefully I portrayed everyone right, but let me know if I messed up catastrophically. My goal with this story is to finish, so hopefully that happens as well.