Let me see if I can get this one out faster... Took me 'till August 15th to actually start writing this chapter.

And guess who lost 600 fucking words when the site went down on the 20th. This Guy!

And then it happened again on the 22nd and I'm screaming. I was fucking done!

Disclaimer: You know the drill, I'd have to catch the law's hands if I said I own Naruto so I don't.

Reality

Junko swayed on her swing, watching amusedly as Sakura did her very best to introduce her older brother.

Her brother— Haramura Akio, she'd managed to glean from Sakura's incoherent attempts at an introduction— bore an amused look of his own, even as he patted Sakura's head after she'd given up.

It was obvious that Sakura idolized her brother if the look on her face at his touch was any indication.

(Junko didn't quite understand that kind of familial bond but she made sure the smile never left her face. Though perhaps his affection bothered her the smallest bit.)

Haramura Akio looked to be about seventeen and had the kind of smile that spoke of endless joy and an equally light heart. His hair was a blue so deep that if you didn't look at it from a certain angle and in a certain light, you'd think it black. His eyes were a heavy sort of brown and so dark that one could almost miss the black on the edge of his irises— and again, there was a twitch at the back of Junko's mind at such familiar eyes— if they didn't pay attention. Aside from those features, he was irritatingly average. He had the same lean musculature that many male shinobi shared and looked to be of average height.

That was the most important fact; he was a shinobi. He may have been wearing civilian clothing but Junko could see it in the way he moved, even with her lack of knowledge. Living in a ninja village for a few lifetimes made it a trifle to tell the difference.

"It's nice to meet you, Akio-san." This, Junko said in the lilting voice she'd only recently begun to use when speaking to adults. Many seemed to find it endearing but she couldn't tell exactly what Akio thought of it.

"Aa. It's pleasure to meet you too, little Junko-chan. My sister talks about you a lot." And there was a glint in his eye that Junko wished she hadn't seen, if only because it made her want to tear out his throat.

"Oh?" Her eyes shifted to Sakura who almost immediately turned her gaze downwards. A smile slowly spread across Junko's face. "I'm really glad you care about me so much, Hazuki-chan."

Sakura turned her head towards Junko, shocked enough that she didn't think— because even at this age Sakura was smart— and her mouth was already projecting her initial thoughts of "It's not like that!"

Had Sakura been older, Junko would've entertained the thought that perhaps the pink-haired doll believed her comment to have a romantic connotation but seeing as Sakura would be turning six in a few weeks, she pretended as if that thought simply hadn't crossed her mind and continued her light-hearted teasing of her one and only friend.

(And wasn't that such a sad thought?)

"So you don't care about me, Hazuki-chan?" Junko didn't care enough to bother faking hurt but the petulant frown that marred her face was real enough.

Of course, at this point Sakura— Haramura Sakura, Junko reminded herself and even in these last few months, she'd never gotten used to that— realized that Junko had essentially backed her into a corner and ended the conversation with crossed arms and a huff.

With her obligatory chat with Sakura finished, Junko finally allowed her crimson eyes to train themselves on Akio once more.

And of course, he was enjoying himself. So far as she could tell, his expression had never shifted from the easy-going amusement he'd been showing since Sakura had arrived with him attached to her fucking side and she really didn't understand how he could bear to do it. Children were annoying— and children you were related to, moreso— and cared more for their silly dalliances than anything that even resembled importance.

(And of course, Sakura was an exception. Sakura was simply amazing. But as a sibling, Akio should hate her.)

But Junko did her best not to let any of her thoughts shine through her guise of a perfectly normal— because she was not disturbed in any way, shape, or form— child and aside from tightening her grip on the chains of her swing and the buildup of heat at the back of her skull, she was certain she succeeded. She met is his eyes in a manner that belied her irritation and when he cocked a brow at her she simply tilted her head in a bird-like indication of curiosity.

"'Hazuki-chan'?" And again, she heard that amusement in his voice and she was certain he was doing it on purpose.

She gave him a smile that was far less pleased than the one she'd given Sakura. "When I was in the orphanage my name was Aiyana. Once Sakura and I met outside the orphanage, she continued to call me 'Aiyana-chan'"— she ignored Sakura's protests of 'No I didn't!' and 'I stopped!'— "even after I told her my name was Junko. After that, I decided that— since we're friends— that she'd get a second name as well."

Akio took on a mock-contemplative look that likely would've fooled an actual child— and Junko suddenly found that she hated every face he made— into believing he was taking time to absorb their 'wisdom' but was really just hiding some more of that infernal amusement.

Gods, she hated him.

Finally coming to a conclusion, Akio ceased his mockery of intelligent thought and smiled at his sister. "Well, I think that was a great idea. Ne, Hazuki-chan?"

Sakura must've expected him to try calling her that because before he finishes speaking, she's already batting at him with an arm. "You can't call me that, Onii-chan!"

Akio adorned a look of hurt. "But she can? I thought I was your brother, Hazuki-chan—"

"Stop!"

"— Don't you care about me?"

Sakura's protests came to a halt as she gaped at her brother. The pinkette's gaze went from Junko to Akio and back again before she huffed and turned away. "You two are exactly the same."

Junko was only vaguely aware of the smidge of hurt in Sakura's voice and was instead almost frothing at the mouth at what she'd said. There was nothing in this world that she would've liked to hear less than that and she knew that Akio was aware of that because as soon as those words had left Sakura's mouth, he had immediately turned to see what her reaction was.

That pressure at the back of her skull increased in intensity.

Junko let out 'hmph' before taking a second to admire her nails. "As if this old man could ever compare to me."

When Sakura fixed her with a glare, Junko did not flinch— because Sakura was a child and Junko would never bow to a child— and felt the smallest bit exasperated.

"Onii-chan isn't old."

Akio nodded his assent. "I've only recently turned seventeen so—"

"That sounds plenty old to me," Junko cuts in, almost sneering. She was so damned tired it wasn't even funny. She'd been perfectly content hanging around with Sakura but her brother irritated Junko to a degree that she'd always had trouble dealing with. The heat that had been flashing across her skin was steadily becoming like ice.

Sakura opened her mouth to say something but Junko was already hopping off of the swing.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Akio. See you some other time, Sakura," she muttered, already spinning on her heels and making her way to God knows where because outside of this park everything just blurred together and she just existed.

(Wasn't this such a pathetic existence?)

Junko clenched her hand idly as she watched the Academy from her perch on a roof across the way. Though it wasn't a thought she was particularly fond of, being clawed had certainly made climbing easier— and despite the fact that she'd been working on her control, she wasn't entirely sure how to go about climbing something using only her chakra— so she supposed that the oddities of this form weren't all bad.

From where she was sat, it was a smidge more difficult than it oughta have been to sneak peeks at the classes within the Academy's walls. From what she could tell the awkwardness of the angle she was forced to look from was supposed to mild a deterrent to spying. Unfortunately, Junko was subpar at espionage to begin with so she ended up being unable to see anything besides what was right up against the windows. But as it turned out, that was all she needed.

Naruto— the social outcast he was— was sat right up against the window, doing his damndest to look as small and inconspicuous as humanly possible.

In truth, she hadn't expected him to be there; she'd only dropped by the Academy to see if she could pick up the Henge in her observations— she hadn't— and hadn't actually noticed him until it'd already been an hour of waiting.

He was... disturbingly unlike the image she'd held in her head.

While she had met him before, his presence was buried under thoughts of 'If I screw up hear I'm dead'. Seeing him now, without the weight of the so-called Shinobi no Kami's eyes on her, allowed her to really take in the boy's countenance. The Naruto of now was too afraid to stick out, likely for fear of the hatred towards him growing. From the way he seemed to shrink further into his seat periodically, it was obvious it wasn't quite working.

Ironically, if the Hokage had let Danzō have the boy, he'd probably have been better off.

Junko watched, vaguely interested, as parents slowly gathered outside the gates of the Academy. There were quite a few that appeared civilian and the women all behaved rather amiably towards each other, likely friends who'd enrolled their daughters in hopes of expunging the fantasy of being a kunoichi from their daughter's minds. It would be a punch to the gut when some of them found out their daughters were actually quite capable and intent on becoming kunoichi— or the village would refuse to let them be anything else.

This was an unlucky bunch; had they enrolled their daughter's in the coming semester, they'd have shared a class with Hyūga Neji and been distracted from actually honing any real skills.

Junko turned away from the growing crowd. There had been nobody of any real importance there, so far as she could see, so there was hardly any point in watching them any longer.

These were the insignificant beings that hated and feared a child. Granted, it was due to their hatred and fear of the thing that was sealed inside of him but it stupid nonetheless. What was more foolish than that was that Minato had actually believed they'd think of Naruto as a hero. It was a 'reasonable' wish, she supposed, but it was an idiot's wish. How could he be so naïve as to think they would so easily fall into line as if they were simply more shinobi to be ordered around?

As much as she hated the stupidity of the civilians, she would not blame them. Hell, if she'd decided to live as a civilian, she wouldn't have done anything about it herself. The world was simply full of stupid people who did stupid things for every conceivable reason and most of them actually thought it made sense.

(Junko fits into that category well.)

Soon enough, students began to trickle through the doors, the youngest being the most eager and leading the pack. Of course, there was Naruto who was pushed aside or given a wide berth— and there was certainly no in-between— by the kids who were making their way past him. Parents were giving him dirty looks that they probably thought were oh so subtle.

She wondered why the looks affected him at all. Surely he'd been treated like this for as long he could remember so wouldn't this seem to him like the natural state of things? Sure, there were the few that treated him kindly but Junko knew that the hatred and fear Naruto had to deal with on a daily basis was present in the vast majority of his interactions. The little acts of kindness that were Teuchi, Ayame, and the Hokage— she was pretty sure he hadn't met Iruka yet— shouldn't have mattered too much in the long run.

He probably just lacked the proper mindset.

Junko leaned back, legs dangling over the edge of the roof and supporting the rest of her body with her arms. "Well, it's not as if any of that matters; if these idiots knew the truth about Naruto, they'd all be playing it up and acting like they were his best damn friends."

"And what truth is that?"

Junko stiffened before taking what she hoped was a casual glance over her shoulder. When she saw the porcelain mask of an Anbu— she refused to take in the details because if it was Kakashi she would fucking scream— she released a drawn-out sigh and averted her eyes.

As fast as she could manage, she threw herself from the roof of the building and dropped like a stone.

Her landing was far from graceful but her legs weren't broken so went into a full sprint.

'Get yourself inside a crowd as quickly as possible; they won't risk grabbing a child in the middle of a throng of civilians.' The thought passed quickly but it made enough sense that Junko replotted her course of mad sprinting into something more resembling a planned escape.

Half a second later, there was a pulse of chakra at the base of her neck and she was unconscious.

Junko opened her eyes slowly, feeling disturbingly well-rested. When the memory of her capture resurfaced, instead of hissing like an irritated cat, she stood silently and did her best to take in her surroundings.

Her prison was a cell made from nothing but stone and lacked even a bed. It was empty of everything but herself. When she turned attention to her own body, she was dismayed to find herself stripped bare with ink dancing across her body, starting from her arms— she noted that they'd even removed the bandages that she'd grown passively fond of— and circling around her heart. She knew next to nothing about seals but she knew without a doubt that at least one feature of this seal was to kill her. Her wrists were bound together by shackles— and of course, those were covered in seals as well— and connected to the wall by a depressingly short chain.

She rested her forehead against the stone of her cell and exhaled before pulling her head back and slamming it into the wall.

"Idiot," she growled and slammed her head into the rock again, rattling her brain. "Fucking idiot."

In which Junko gets nothing done and gets fucking sacked on top of that.

I'm planning on commissioning a friend of mine for some cover art. She's fuckin' great at digital art so once I find the time and money that's gonna happen.