Naruto is homesick. He is homesick and world-weary and he is only five. Five and done, tired, so exhausted and utterly unknowing why he misses something he's never even had. The orphanage is supposed to be home, supposed to be something wonderful. Yet, it's not. It's rude and cold and anger of the matrons. The sharp slap of a hand to face, of hunger in his belly. He doesn't consider it home. Konoha, with its cold and angry peoples, isn't home. It's a distant Hokage playing grandfather, teachers who laugh and ridicule, people in the street who chase him off and spit on him.
He's a smart boy, sharpened by the world into a razor-fine point, one that the barest breath of a whisper across skin will leave seeping red. He watches and listens, makes leaps of logic most would find fearful in a five year old. Yet, he hides it, knows they will fear and hate him all the more if they understood. That isn't to say that what he does is fake. It's more an over exaggeration, playing up the cheer and smiles, the want to be recognized and seen, loved for who he is.
Instead he is a quiet boy, happy with what little joys can be found, whip-smart, with a penchant for pranks and laughter tempered by the understanding he isn't wanted or loved. He tolerates it, but when he wakes, dreams of sea-air and sun-warmed water on his lips, he flails, not understanding. He lives like this for years, ever since he can remember. The salt on his tongue, and the visions of a place leagues away he's never seen in person.
A piece of chalk bounces off his head, leaving a stinging mark in its absence. He winces and rubs his head, the water in his eyes minimal, from months of recent practice. Mikimoto-sensei hates him, like everyone else, and doesn't do much to hide it.
"Uzumaki! Tell me, what is the use of chakra?"
Naruto frowns, eyes focusing on the board and not his small doodles of a city on the cliffs, shining in the sea.
"Uh, it lets you use really cool jutsu, 'ttebayo! Like the Yondaime and his super cool flash!"
Mikimoto-sensei scowls and nods, "That is...somewhat correct. Pay attention more, Uzumaki or I'll throw you in detention, again. Now! Chakra is the energy which we use to perform jutsu, stick to surfaces, regulate body temperature, and a number of other things…"
Naruto stops listening, already knowing this explanation. All the times he's snuck in to the library and read have prepared him for any questions the instructors might have. All the theoretical knowledge bounces around his head, helping him give a subpar-but-not-quite dumb look to everyone else.
He just wants what he can't have, doesn't know exists in the space outside of Konoha. He wants warm sun-air, salt-spray, and the glistening sea at his back. He doesn't question where it comes from, the visions, but accepts them all the same. They're a part of him, of his short, miserable life that never quite manages to put him down.
"A-are you a-alright?" A quiet voice asks him, soft like silk, from behind, whispers out.
He turns slightly, still rubbing his head, and beams at the girl, Hinata, if he remembers right. A Hyūga, but not stuck up like the boy a year above him - her cousin most probably. Distant or not, he doesn't really care.
"I'm okay 'ttebayo! Mikimoto-baka just hates me. I'm just that cool, y'know?" He is okay, so he's not lying. And he risks detention just by insulting his shitty teacher, but he doesn't really care. He's just surprised someone else does.
She gives him a shy smile and turns back to her notebook, paying attention once more. He does the same, returning to his doodling.
He turns six without much fuss, the sickness for an unknown home burning greater inside of him. The Hokage visits, pats his head and gives him two presents. One from himself, a small frog nightcap that Naruto cherishes. The other is a small wallet already filled with cash from 'a friend', if what the Hokage says is true. It holds this month's rent and groceries, as well as a little extra for himself, if he wants for anything.
And Naruto does want. He wants so many things; material or not. But he knows it's impossible for him here. That's when the idea of leaving first settles into his mind. Just...disappear away from Konoha, away from the hatred and the glares, the whispered demon brat, he's not one of us he doesn't belong we should be rid of him.
(Naruto thinks, sometimes, that they're the ones who don't belong. He is just a child like anyone else, there is no reason he can find for them to hate him so.)
Leaving takes a lot, though, and he knows he isn't near anywhere to even close to prepared. It'll take him years if he really wants it. And he does, he thinks, face turned east towards somewhere whispering homecomehomenarutohomehomehome.
So he'll bide his time, save up money and resources. Maybe give Konoha one last chance to prove that it can be a home. But he doubts it, hard and fast, curling in his stomach like a stone snake. Konoha as she is will never be a home. He knows theres one out there for him, waiting beyond the sea he's never seen.
He smiles at the Hokage, bug and bright as the sun in the sky of his eyes. "Thanks jiji! I'll take care of Gama-chan super well! Can we go get some ramen?"
The old man chuckles, hand coming to rest on Naruto's spiked mane of blond hair. "Of course, my treat, Naruto-kun."
They leave, Naruto clutching his new wallet tightly. He has a plan, now. One day he'll find a real home. Meant for him and those he loves dearly. One day, maybe not now, but it will happen. He knows it will, feels it deep in his bones, certain and true.