Today was strange, I decided.

The past months of my life had gone by on a monotone, dreary and dull way- complete normalcy. I woke up silently, waited a few hours for my care giver-I use that term very loosely- to come to me. She would then feed me, change me (something I found horrendously embarrassing), then leave me, only to return later and repeat the simple cycle. Between the intervals when The Hag was near me, I would be crawling, moving and trying to stand. I would never achieve it, but it was something to look forward to. Other than that nothing happened.

Today though, today was different.

First of all, The Hag came to change me earlier than usual, I didn't know the exact time- there wasn't a clock in My Cell- but I had a very simple schedule and it was around one hour after I woke that she usually came to me. I predicted she was only around half that time today.

As she picked me up- keeping me as far away from herself as possible- I noticed another thing, she was wearing makeup. The Hag was wearing Makeup! The statement was absurd, shouldn't it have melted her, revealing her green skin and wart filled face? Hm, maybe I was more like a child than I thought. In my opinion, it didn't make her more appealing, that just wasn't possible, but, I admit, it took the edge off of her repulsive features. She was painted with thick foundation, it was very pale and clashed with her slightly tanned skin horribly, and her cheeks were heavily dusted with powder, taking the steely edge off of the pasty white. She looked like some form of ghost dragged out of hell backwards, though she was careful enough so that not one hair was out of place, if you looked from the front, the back, however, was a whole different story.

She had changed clothes as well. Her regular grey dress and stained grey apron had been replaced by a more elegant looking kimono. It wasn't a very extravagant kimono, not like something people would wear for festivals, it think. Since I had never been to a festival I didn't have the most reliable assumption, but I had seen pictures of them in the paper, coupled with basic knowledge I knew she was dressed up, just not what for. Was it even the right time of year to have a festival anyway? Regardless, the kimono was a light red and had light blue splodges everywhere which I guessed sort of looked like flowers, her obi was a banana yellow, clashing horribly with her other clothes, she reminded me of a over grown garden in the middle of summer, blotches of colour attacking you from all angles.

Coming back to reality I noticed that we were moving. We were going up the stairs. This is new, I had never even seen these stairs, let alone actually gone up them. The Hag keeps the door locked so I have no hope of actually getting out unless I relearn how to pick locks. The stairs were old and made out of harsh stone, their colour was grey and numerous silver scratches marked each step, I wonder where they came from. As she carried me up the tunnel I spied that the ceiling was dark and covered in damp, the only light illuminating this place was from a single lonely light bulb, which looked beaten and rundown, like the stairs.

Finally reaching the end of the tunnel- pun intended. I heard something other than boring silence.

Children.

Their high pitched squeals fuelled the air and laughter added to the formula. Pushing past the last barrier between me and them, The Hag brought me into the room, the squeaking of hinges attracted the attention of the snotty kids. Suddenly, they all dropped what they were doing and swarmed around The Hag and I like rabid dogs, barking questions towards us. I didn't like it.

Now being able to see them, I counted ten children surrounding us, but could hear more noise from outside; it was a very crowded orphanage it seemed.

The Hag forced a smile onto her face, it looked foreign- like it didn't fit with her features. I assume the smile was fake, then again I could be wrong I had never been a good judge of emotion, probably because of my introverted personality. If she smiled for them, why did she not for me? Then again I don't think I would want her to smile at me, the wind might blow and her face would get stuck like that. I repressed a shiver, that thought was repulsive.

It is the first time I am released from my Cell yet I am already longing to return, the children are exhausting and I am already bored. I wonder how they can be excited to see The Hag, she was never pleasant company and downright hostile most of the time.

Wanting to distract myself I glance around the room and commit it to memory. The walls were all a dull grey with the odd stain blemishing its surface, there was a painting on the left wall. The painting encased in a frame that looked old and battered yet no dust lay upon it. I bet that if I removed it there would be pristine white paint behind the canvas. Multi coloured drawings plastered the bottoms of walls in what could only be crayon and scratches littered to wooden floor, too many of them to be covered by a simple rug. Perhaps The Hag should invest in a carpet, however looking at the suspicious stains littered around just about anywhere- including the brats themselves- I muse that a carpet would probably not last long.

After a torturous five minutes of faffing and whining, the Hag releases her and me from the gaggle of eager children. She moves quickly and quietly as if more children are lying in wait to pounce on her to take up more of her valuable time. I scowl slightly at my thoughts, I must be so bored that they are wandering far from course. She wandered out from the room, I am happy for that at least, maybe she was useful for something?

She strode down a hallway and we reached our destination as she slid open a door and walked inside, this room was different. It looked part office and part living room. Admittedly there was not much to make it look like an office apart from the medium sized desk fitted against the far wall, it was almost overflowing with sheets of paper. The other half of the room was bare apart from the comfortable looking sofa placed against the wall; it was brown and leather and looked so comfortable.

"Hokage- sama." I was snapped out of my musings about sofas when I heard the Hags voice, it was brittle and held a touch of bite. It was only then that I realised that she was holding me closer to her person than I ever remember being, and I realised it must be because of this person in the room. Where have I heard 'Hokage' from before'?

I cut off my thoughts when I caught sight of the person sitting purposefully on the couch. He was old and wrinkles overlapped flesh on his face, he was fairly tanned- though not overly so, he had grey hair no doubt a result of his age and a thin frame. None of that mattered though.

My eyes widened and my head snapped to look at the hat sitting beside him so fast I was sure I got whiplash. I rubbed my eyes with my fleshy fist, thinking that maybe it would rub the images out if my mind. Sadly, it failed.

I assessed what was going on, my mind racing from the shock. The old, frail looking man sitting decked out in white and red, was Hokage.

Hokage.

Sarutobi Hiruzen.

Naruto.

Naruto was real. I was in Naruto!

I felt like screaming but my vocal cords failed me, I felt like crying but I produced no tears. For once, I felt like showing a vulnerability- something that I had not done since my own childhood.

Sudden I felt calm, like a tidal wave of peace set over me and I could breathe again. Numbly, I thought that maybe if the Hokage was real, maybe chakra was real, and so maybe the Hokage released a wave of his own chakra to calm me down. He could do that, right?

My heart rate returned to normal and I could see again, funny I didn't know when I lost my vision. Did I just faint? How humiliating.

I opened my eyes and noticed I was still clasped to the Hags chest and breathed in her regular overpowering scent, rose petals I think it was, and was suddenly grateful for the familiarity however small it was.

The Hag was speedily talking to the Hokage, probably trying to come up with an excuse as to why I basically had a panic attack when I caught sight of him. I couldn't understand what she said, but I jerked when I was thrust into the old man's hands, I could feel his calluses, it was a stark contrast from the bony yet soft hands that usually held me. The Hag obviously used hand moisturiser, though I don't know why, I generally found the stuff uncomfortable and creepy on my hands.

I am getting off subject.

I was turned around and looked into the man who was like a grandfather to Naruto eyes, I saw that they were softened yet glinted with intelligence, though I already knew that would be there, he was 'The Professor' for a reason. His eyes seemed curious, but that was just another educated guess, who wouldn't be curious when they just witnessed a baby have a panic attack.

"Mariko-Chan," he whispered, his voice crackled on the last syllable and I'm not sure if it was because of old vocal chords or pure emotion that was affecting his voice. He scrutinised my face for a few minutes, and I heard the light shutting of the door, The Hag must have left. I was too busy to care.

"Hello Mariko-Chan."

It suddenly hit me that that must be my name. Mariko. Hm, I wonder what it means.

Clothing shifted and it was only then that I was aware of the other occupant of the room. He was small and had a clump of the Hokage robe nestled tightly within his grasp.

Blonde hair invaded my vision and I quickly took a retake, it looked like the sun was shining out of his skull. The baby twisted upwards so that he was facing us (he had been lying down half covered by the Hokage hat apparently) and opened his mouth in a grin so wide that I actually fought down a wince, didn't that hurt?

Realisation hit me quicker than I would have liked. Right here, right now I was staring at the scar free face of Naruto Uzumaki, a growing feeling of trepidation crawling up my spine and resting itself in my gut. My mouth opened and I released the first thing that came to mind.

"Shit."

Word Count: 1889

This chapter is a bit short but I have been doing a lot of procrastinating lately and this is the result of it. Thank you to all my reviewers, you made me feel special. It would be to my uttermost pleasure if we repeated the performance.

Answer- 'Staying Alive' by the Bee Gee's. Because I am just THAT sarcastic.

Question- What colour would a Smurf go if you choke it?

Goodbye, my Minions.