Title The Ways in Which I Love Thee
Disclaimer Naruto and all affiliated trademarks belong to Kishimoto. All original ideas, characters, concepts and others not mentioned that appear in this story, are however, property of Platanos 2.0.
Summary "Let me count the ways in which I love thee…" Uzumaki Naruto has never known love. True, he's familiar with the patience and brotherly affection of one Umino Iruka and the distant, wizened guidance of Sandaime Hokage, but he's never truly, really known love. Not the sort of love a parent showers on a child. The love shared between friends; and certainly not the unconditional, irrevocable, defying love between soul mates. No, Uzumaki Naruto has never known love, but then again he's never known Hyuuga Hinata.
Notes This is a two-shot (three-shot?) and my first (and probably last) venture into the Naruto fandom. The rest of the vignettes will be uploaded in a second or third chapter depending on the length but there will be no more. Just thought I'd give my props to this particular shipping.
[Thanks for reading! Enjoy and leave a review if you can! :)]
The Ways in which I Love Thee
By the time Uzumaki Naruto was three, all small stubby limbs, sun-kissed hair and full set of decidedly sharp teeth, he knew a few rather important things about the world. Even before the day one infamous Uchicha Sasuke became aware of his unconscious bitterness and envy of his brother, even before one Nara Shikamaru realized the world was a truly troublesome place and far before one Hyuuga Hinata could even spell the word defeat, one Uzumaki Naruto was already read and versed in the hard lessons life had to teach. He knew three very important things.
One: the caretakers at the orphanage were not to be bothered; for anything. Not even if the cooks had denied him lunch and dinner in a row; not even if Eri had stolen his blanket; not even if Hideki had shoved him hard enough to break skin and stain his shirt with that bright red stuff that hurt to look at, hurt to touch and tasted too much like metal. Two: the children at the orphanage were to be avoided; at all costs. Except maybe Makoto who was nice—but only because he didn't do much except draw and color and paint. And last, but certainly not least, at the end of the day, the end of the week, the end of the month there was no one. There would be no one. And as the caretakers drilled into his skull, there had been no one. No one came. And certainly no one would ever come. Not for him. Not for Uzumaki Naruto, the boy with the hair like spun gold and eyes like the bluest skies and the brightest stones. Well, of course, the old man came, but then the old man came for everyone as young Shota Kenichi was quick to tell him after roughing him up a bit. So, no, unfortunately, the kindly old man with the face tight with so many lines it made Naruto wonder how he managed to smile, did not count.
And it was the realizations of these three, essentially simple things that helped young Naruto weather his remaining years in the two story building with the slanted roofs and the creaky second-floor stairs. They helped him get through the countless lonely nights when all the others had been fed, read to and tucked in while he'd only been given two disparaging looks—one if he behaved and didn't start fights with Toshi and his friends—and a not-so-gentle shove into his cot. They helped him turn a blind eye to how lonely and quiet the orphanage was getting with so many kids just up and leaving. And honestly, just where did they go? Why did they never come back? Toshi, days before leaving, had been kind enough to explain.
"I gots a family now you dumbass! I'm leaving this crap hole," he said, grinning a wide grin, face pulled so wide Naruto wondered if it hurt. The others had been in awe, congratulating Toshi and wishing him the best so Naruto thought it a good thing to leave. And so he wanted it to. He hoped for it. Hoped and prayed and whispered and even begged some nights to leave. To be allowed out through those gates with no intention of returning. To be able to say proudly to his cot mates that he, Uzumaki Naruto, who'd been there before them (and sadly would be there after them though young Naruto did not know this) had a family and was leaving this "crap hole." Though maybe not in those words because according to Natsumi, "crap" was a bad word. And Naruto didn't want to be a bad boy; bad boys didn't get breakfast, or lunch or dinner for that matter. They got sent to bed early, even if it was still light out and the other kids had yet to return from lessons. No, Uzumaki Naruto most definitely did not want to be a bad boy.
All for Family. Naruto, by the time he was four and walking and running and climbing and even leaping, realized with a deep, aching pang in his small chest that he wanted a family. The kind in the books the other kids were allowed to keep. The ones that had four people in them: a tall, strong man and a smaller, beautiful woman both of whom held the hands of two smaller people—children Naruto learned later—who looked like the man and woman and yet didn't. And the four people lived in a nice little house and according to the book, "ate dinner together and cleaned together. Because that's what families do. And then, when it was all done and everything was all clean, mommy and daddy tucked brother and sister to sleep. And brother and sister wished each other a very good night and mommy and daddy wished each other a very good night. And a very good night was had." To be honest, Naruto didn't understand what a family was (and it would be a very long time before he would) but he understood comfort and safety and security. He understood that daddy protected mommy and brother and sister; that mommy made delicious food for daddy and brother and sister; that brother and sister played together no matter what: on sunny days, cloudy days, rainy days, snowy days. And most importantly, even when mommy and daddy went away and brother and sister were off to play, at the end—even if it was the very end—mommy and daddy and brother and sister always came back together to eat and talk and sleep.
Uzumaki Naruto understood this much and it was this knowledge, the foundation for future things to come, that he carried with him into his Academy years. The knowledge that safety, security, acceptance came from family and that families needed a mommy, a daddy and a brother and sister. And didn't the old man always say the villagers were a big family with the Hokage as the mommy and daddy (this exception had blown young Naruto away) and the villagers as the brothers and sisters. Naruto realized then, watching the way everyone, even Makoto who absolutely hated listening to people, paid attention to the old man that family was what he wanted. What a needed so, so, so, so terribly much he would just die and waste and rot without it.
Yes, the plan was made and finalized.
He would be the Hokage; he would be the daddy and the mommy (the technicalities of this would be dealt with later) and the villagers would be the brothers and sisters. They would all be a family. He would protect and provide and in turn would be loved and cared for and appreciated and most importantly, accepted. Because that is what family did. "Made of mommy and daddy and brother and sister, family loved and cared all the days of their lives." It didn't matter that everyone looked different and did different things. "Families are made of all shapes and sizes and colors and people. Family is love and love is family." Besides, everyone looking the same would be boring! Anyone and everyone could be in his family Naruto decided, wiping the tears from his dark face and biting down hard on his blanket to keep from crying out. No one would be left; no, not like how Eri and Kenichi left him out of playtime today or how no one sat by him during dinner or any time for that matter. Everyone would eat dinner together and go to bed together. Because that was what Family was. Together.
And with that, a dream was born.
By the time Konohagukure no Sato's North End District orphanage closed, Uzumaki Naruto's cot was the only one standing. Uzumaki Naruto's blanket was the only one folded. Uzumaki Naruto was the only one left. But that was OK. Absolutely OK, Naruto reasoned from his perch by the window. He watched Eri leave and stayed by the window until the horse-drawn cart was but a speck in the distance. Eri was gone, having been taken by a tall man with a block-shaped face and large, blistered fingers and a just as tall woman with an equally block-shaped face and nicer hands. They were the Kishimoto family now.
No, Naruto thought with a sigh as he clambered down, careful of his footing. An accident would only anger the caretakers. He was taller now. His hair fell down into his eyes and even though he was supposed to get it cut, he wouldn't. Not unless he wanted to break one of the rules. No, Naruto was quite alright with being the last one there because, in a Family, sometimes mommy was the only one home while daddy went out to work and brother and sister went out to play. But mommy never stayed alone for long; in the end, daddy and brother and sister always came back to be with her. Always.
Naruto was no exception. A week later, the old man came by and stretching out his arms with the speckled and folded skin asked kindly, "Naruto, how would you like to leave today?" It was then that Naruto knew; knew with every fiber of his being, ever hair on his head, every cell in his body knew that the old man was Family.
#
By the time Uzumaki Naruto was eleven, he'd decided on his Mommy.
He'd seen her on his first day of ninja academy.
He was nervous, of course; this was his first time going to school—ever. He dearly hoped the kids wouldn't be like the ones at the orphanage. He really wanted to make some friends; someone to hang out with and talk to and play with would be nice. The old man assured him there were tons of new friends to be made so 11-year-old Uzumaki Naruto gathered his courage and with his chest puffed out and his eyes squinted in that familiar owlish fashion, stomped and tripped and stalked his way to Ninja Academy.
The classroom was big and spacious and filed with so many desks and tables Naruto couldn't believe his eyes. All the children were already gathered, some talking excitedly and others goofing off. Naruto noticed one boy with wild hair and weird red markings on his dark face eagerly showing off a small white puppy. "His name's Akamaru!" the boy proudly declared, holding out the excited animal who in turn yipped in greeting. One of the other boys, his hair pulled into a spiky ponytail muttered something like, "troublesome," and then promptly fell asleep on his desk. A boy eating chips straight out of the bag laughed and returned to his food. The boy with the dog made a face then and started yelling but the sleeping boy did not budge; he must've been really tired, Naruto thought. Naruto stared for a while longer, unsure of whether to go forward and see if they noticed him and invited him to join them or perhaps wait by the door and avoid trouble.
He decided to stay by the door.
There were girls too. Short girls, tall girls, skinny girls, not so skinny girls; girls with flowing black hair and some with short, cropped black hair (that almost looked blue even!) all laughing, talking, giggling huddled as they were on the other side of the corner. Naruto noticed two girls in particular first. One was tall, the other short. The former had hair almost like his, but so much duller and the latter had hair such a particular pink color it made Naruto's heart catch. Her eyes were green; a clear, open, beautiful green that reminded Naruto of grass right after rain and her face was small and rounded. When she laughed, her eyes closed and she tilted her head to the side at such an angle it made her pretty pink hair fall over one shoulder. They reminded Naruto of sakura. She reminded Naruto of Sakura. Almost immediately, Naruto felt heat flooding his cheeks; he wrangled his fingers in his new orange jacket, terrified at how wet his palms were. Should he go over? Should he wave? Naruto was torn and it showed; his face twisted into an expression of agony so intense it seemed as though he were in pain. Finally, his decision was made when the blonde girl hugged the other girl close to her and laughed out, "Oh, Sakura, you're so funny!"
Sakura! Her name was Sakura! It was as if the Heavens had opened. Hair like sakura, face like sakura, named Sakura. Naruto sucked in a huge, rasping breath, eyes wide and fingers dropping to his sides. Then, suddenly, without ever meaning to, he found himself moving. Walking forward; one determined step at a time. He was a man on a mission; nothing would stop him. And finally, he reached their table; there were five of them and they all turned wide, curious and even annoyed eyes to him.
Naruto fidgeted and immediately lost his nerve. "Erm…um…H-hi?" he tried, voice raspy and quiet.
They rolled their eyes nearly simultaneously and returned to their discussion.
Naruto cleared his throat. Perhaps, they hadn't heard him. He would try once more, "Uh…um, Hi?" Still nothing. His hopes fell and he turned to leave when suddenly a loud, brazen shout of, "OI! OI! MICHIKO! WANNA BE MY WOMAN!" came from across the room. Naruto turned so fast he nearly tripped. The speaker was none other than the boy with the dog. He stood, hands on his hips and dog on his head, on top of a desk. He was grinning; real big and real wide looking for all the world like he Hokage himself!
"YEAH RIGHT, DOG BREATH! MY LOVE IS FOR SASUKE-KUN ONLY!" The girl in question, Michiko, stuck out her tongue and with a toss of her luxurious brown hair, returned to touching heads with the rest of her friends.
Naruto turned back to the girls; their giggling was higher now and one or two even leaned out of the circle to point and then giggle at a boy across the room. Naruto tilted his head to the side, interest piqued. Who was this Sasuke? How had that boy, "Dog Breath" managed to get their attention? Sasuke, Naruto figured out very quickly, was the top of the class. He was a pale-faced, dark haired boy with just as dark eyes and an almost arrogant tilt to his lips. Naruto frowned. Were all of these girls in love with that one boy? Impossible! He nearly laughed. In fact, he did. This seemed to get their attention.
"What're you laughing at?" The blonde girl asked, tone brooking no room for nonsense and hand perched authoritatively on curve-less hips.
Naruto started, unsure of what to say. And then a thought occurred to him and he pulled out a smile; a real, big, real wide one: a winning smile and said as loud as he possibly could, "I'M LAUGHIN' AT SASUKE!"
This seemed to be the wrong thing to say as suddenly, the room had gotten real quiet. Naruto laughed nervously. The girls had all gotten to their feet and were clenching their fists, expressions dark and eyes flashing dangerously. He took a cautious step back and then a bigger one.
Naruto tried again, "C'MON, C'MON, WHASSA MATTA'?"
"What's the matter?" the blonde shrieked, stalking forward. "How dare you insult Sasuke-kun you loser!" This seemed to be the cue as suddenly the rest were on him, including Sakura who looked positively livid with her face flushed a most unbecoming shade of red and her nostrils flaring and her eyes big and round like golf-balls.
"You jerk! Apologize, you good for nothing!" Sakura came forward and shoved him; hard. Pain exploded across his shoulder and made his arms tingle. He winced, moving backwards only to bump into a desk. He heard a squeak behind him but ignored it as Sakura and the blonde girl were closing in on him. His could barely tear his eyes away; how could something so beautiful be so deadly?
"Aren't you listening?" Sakura hissed, cracking her knuckles. "I. Said. Apo-lo-gize!" She gritted out each word slowly.
"B-but what did I do?" Naruto squeaked, face pale and lip quivering.
The blonde huffed, "What did you do? What did you do? You loser! Don't you know who Sasuke-kun is?"
No. He didn't. So he told them so. Sakura hit him again, this time he dodged so her fist only grazed his cheek. He felt blood explode in his mouth. She surely would've hit him once more if not for the teacher arriving. The man was tall and had a nasty looking scar stretched across his forehead. At first the man looked at him coldly his eyes flashing with that same deep emotion he'd seen in almost everyone's eyes. Naruto blinked back tears and hung his head. The man told him to leave; go to the bathroom and clean yourself up. So he left, but then paused at the door. The man began teaching; he introduced himself as Umino Iruka and told the class he was looking forward to a wonderful year. The class chorused a, "Yes, sensei," in reply. Sakura looked over to her left and then turned away when Sasuke returned her gaze; he grinned and she giggled.
Naruto frowned. His fingers curled into tight little fists and anger lit something hot and dark and savage in his body. The pain in his mouth had dulled to a meager throb and his shoulder felt fine. His eyes narrowed and before he realized it, he was marching back; he was on top of Sasuke's desk and his fist was flying across the boy's face with a triumphant war shriek.
Later, in the old man's face, both eyes swollen shut and nose a battered mess and head hanging dejectedly in shame, he would realize hate. Not true hate, because mind you, Naruto did not have enough experience or knowledge for that yet. But enough of it to know that he hated Uchiha Sasuke.
#
There was a reason one Uzumaki Naruto noticed one Haruno Sakura first. A reason not even he knew—at least until the pieces to the puzzle had been revealed. Her petal-soft hair that same shade of pink as her namesake and her sunny, out-going personality drew young Naruto like a moth to the flames. That bright smile and at times, lethal, energetic personality reminded him of a woman with hair several shades darker and several decibels louder and more energetic. Of a woman who had huffed and puffed and knocked her way through a certain blond, blue-eyed ninja's defenses to claim his heart several decades before him.
There was a reason Uzumaki Naruto's first love was Haruno Sakura.
But, as Naruto later learned, a first love is vastly different from a true love.
#
Contrary to popular decision, Naruto's favorite color was not orange. Even though he wore it like a badge. In fact, his signature outfit was a matter of circumstance; it'd simply been the cheapest thing he could find. His favorite color was not orange because there were no other colors to choose from. Naruto at the time of deciding his favorite color knew enough about colors to know there were other, far more appealing hues to choose from. It was simply his favorite because it reminded him of nothing. Absolutely nothing. He loved orange because it did not suffocate him, surround him, corner him and turn him into the raging beast he knew he was.
Green was for Konohagakure, the beloved village that surrounded him, hated him, trapped him, bound him. White was for the Hokage's robes. Blue was for the blue, blue, blue skies that surrounded the village. Brown was for chocolate whenever he could get the stuff and other times for the old man's face. Yellow was for wonderful, wonderful, wonderful ramen wonderful because of its noodles and broth and naruto and nori. He especially loved miso ramen. Black was for the ANBU who sometimes chased him when the chuunin could not; honestly, they weren't much better at finding him and they weren't as fun or forgiving either. Gray was for the only ANBU that could catch him without any trouble and wasn't too mean about it either; his hair was gray and he giggled. A lot.
And Red? Red was for his dreams streaked bloody and fire and big red eyes. Pink was for Sakura. He hated pink but loved Sakura. Hated red because it made him feel empty and alone and cold even though fire was supposed to be warm. Pink like sakura. Red like blood. Pink like candy. Red like Sakura's face when she was especially mad. Sakura had pretty pink hair and wore a bright red dress. There were times Naruto really hated Sakura. And this was the kind of hate that ran deep; ran hot and fast and made his eyes water and his body shake with the injustice of it all. It didn't help matters that red was what he saw when he looked at Sakura or Sasuke for too long.
But not orange. Orange had absolutely nothing to do with nothing at all. Orange was simply orange. Orange was for his suit which the old man had bought for him. He'd never gotten anything from anyone before that. Orange was for the oranges the mean lady at the fruit vendor sold especially cheap because no one else wanted them. Orange was for him, Naruto, who no one seemed to like and seemed to want to like. He was orange. Orange was him.
Uzumaki Naruto loved orange.
#
By the time he was thirteen, not-so-young Uzumaki Naruto had a chance to practice all he'd learned about Family with his genin team. Though his teammates left much to be desired (and really so did his sensei) Naruto was thrilled. Ecstatic. Jumping off the walls in excitement. Finally! At last! To be part of something close and tight-knit like the quilt on the book he'd read all those years ago. And though it wasn't like the family in the book, Naruto had since learned that families were different but as long as everyone loved everyone else, all was well. So Naruto went to his first team survival training with head held up high and hopes high and that fluttering sinking feeling in his chest and tummy (though this could have been the effect of a pure ramen diet).
Surely, this would work! Kakashi-sensei, even though he was a little—ok, a lot perverted—would make an excellent Daddy and Mommy and then he and Sakura and even that arrogant teme could be Brother and Sister (by this point, Naruto's affection for the pink-haired ninja-in-training had fizzled to physical attraction based on annoyance and his own twisted sense of amusement).
But, Naruto soon discovered, his Family Seven as he sometimes called it, was not to be. Because Family just didn't do things like that. Family did not exclude one member in favor of another. Family did not shower praise on Brother and ignore Sister. Family did not make one feel worthless and the other prized. Family was not left to fend for themselves while Father took Brother away. Family did not make promises only to please Sister's affection for another. Family did not shove shrieking balls of lightening into each other's chests. Family did not abandon one another for wild, twisted dreams that fell from the mouths of snakes. Family just did not operate the way Team Seven did. Or maybe, Team Seven did not operate the way Family did. Either way, Team Seven was no Family. Team Seven wasn't even a team.
It would a while before Naruto believed in Family again.