A/N: This is one of my first Naruto fics, and please tell me what you think of it. There is bound to be a pairing somewhere in the story later on, because I'm a romance kind of person. No beta, so if there is a typo anywhere or a grammar mistake somewhere, do drop me a note.
Disclaimer: Naruto does not belong to me. But the idea of the fic is mine.
("Please, please Rama, please do this one last thing for me, I beg of you."
He stares at the man in front of him, the color of the liquid flowing through weak humans' veins coloring his yellow hair. He stares in shock and confusion and burning anger because no, this is impossible, this man is strong, stronger than him and so why is he dying on the ground before him?
"Rama," the man chokes out, and he moves forward, red hair dusting the ground as he leans down. His eyes are wide and his mouth is open slightly, trembling and disbelieving. He is more akin to thinking that his eyesight is failing him – him, who has been immortal and infallible since he was born – rather than believing the sight that registers in his mind.
"My friend," the man breathes out, blue eyes shining with that last semblance of hope and he wants to scream, because you're dying, everything is going up in flames next to us and you are the sun amidst the flaming earth, how can you still hope? But he holds his tongue, because the man is the first person to acknowledge him as a friend, even with all the thousands and millions of years that he has lived through. The man is a friend, and for that, he will listen to his dying wish.
"Please Rama, you know what I need you to do," blood trickles out of the man's mouth, and he panics for a moment, because all he knows is destruction and pain and gore and nothing about comfort or helping. "Rama, please. Just this one time."
He stares at the sun he holds in his arms, and thinks about how the man right here before him dragging out the last few moments of his breaths and for once, believes, that if he follows, if he listens to this man, everything will turn out fine, turn out amazing, great, perfect. The man before him is warmth and kindness and perfection, and he can't do anything but nod dumbly.
"Yes," he says breathlessly, one hand reaching out to cup the man's cheek. "Yesyesyes." His words mash together, but he doesn't care less, because the man's eyelids are fluttering and his breaths are getting more ragged and no.
"Rama," the man breathes out once more, and he etches this face into his mind forever and ever, feels the slowing pump underneath his hand resting on the man's chest, and sees the eyes shimmer with gratitude and love. "Thank you so much."
And when the man in his arms breathes for the last time, he freezes when he hears his breath shutter, and when the body in his arms go limp – lighter one soul – he howls into the night sky, at the silver pale moon and screams about the unfairness of the world.
But he will keep his promise. If nothing else, he will keep his promise.)
When Naruto wakes up, he can't help but feel that something is gone gone missing disappeared missing inside of him, and he clutches his heart for a second. He is confused, because in the whole eight and a half years of his life, he has had nothing to call his, so what could be so important to make him feel this way? Something churns deep and far down inside his abdomen, and Naruto frowns. It makes him feel uneasy and wrong, and at the same time, at a loss.
He stumbles around his room, picking the scrolls off the floor and falling into his orange jumpsuit, zipping it up and tripping towards the kitchen. Naruto is out of it today, because he can't ignore the digging feeling inside of him that something has been lost and he just doesn't understand why, or what could have been lost. When he sees all his ramen – the food of the gods, he swears – intact and safe in the cupboard, Naruto is even more confused. The only thing he would ever call his own or care about, would most definitely be his ramen.
He is about to boil the water for the ramen when his nose twitches, and he floats out of the kitchen into the living room, and stares dumbly at the table. Because it's not clattered with scrolls and shuriken and other stuff, no, it's clean and sparkling and oh my god is that miso soup and rice and tofu and wow is that fish. Naruto is fairly certain that he's never even tasted fish in his entire life, and has been living solely off ramen – which probably explains his height – so why is this beautiful breakfast sitting on his table? It must have been a work of God.
He's almost half-afraid to eat the spread before him, wanting to just sit and stare at it in awe forever, but if he does that, Naruto is going to be late, and that'll make Iruka mad. Not that he doesn't want to make Iruka-sensei mad, but it gets a bit boring after a while. He needs to let Iruka-sensei cool off for a week or two, before Naruto strikes back even harder. Committing this amazing scene to memory, Naruto takes a deep breath and apologizes to whoever made this meal for him, and wolfs it down in record speed, pausing momentarily to savor the taste of fish because wow that is amazing I've got to eat it more often. Naruto even thinks that he can feel himself grow taller already, and he bounds to dump the dishes in the sink.
When Naruto arrives at the Academy, he is stunned to see something on the seat, which he always occupies. It is wrapped in red cloth, the color of the setting sun, and Naruto tentatively sneaks a peek while ignoring the bustling chatter of people around him. He sees a box, and on it, a note with an elegant script that he has to squint to read, because kanji and hiragana is not supposed to be written in elegant and cursive script for the sake of Naruto's eyes.
You dumb shit, the first line reads, and Naruto instantly bristles, trying to fight down the instinct to scream at the card you're not much better! because the card really didn't do anything to warrant that. It was the writer who deserved that. Already angry with the stranger, he wanted to throw the note and the box away, because whoever wrote something that mean would probably be super mean later on, but something inside told him to read on and Naruto did, as the latest changes in his life seemed to dull the ghost pain of having lost something important.
You forgot your bento. Naruto's eyes widen at this, and they dart towards the box sitting innocently on his chair. Bento? Naruto is fairly certain that he's hyperventilating, but who wouldn't be if this were their first time getting a bento. Wasn't a bento supposed to be something a loved one gave to him? That means the stranger loved him, i.e. the stranger was someone nice, no matter how mean he could be. Looking back, Naruto faintly remembers seeing something red tied up nicely sitting on top of the drawers near the door.
And wash the dishes by yourself next time, I cooked, I'm not going to wash too. And Naruto breathes, because that meal, that wondrous amazing meal that filled him up and made him so energetic and ready for whatever idiocies the world might throw at him today, that meal was made by this stranger?
Naruto was ready to drop to his knees and call this stranger god. It was like he had discovered a new religion.
He is barely shaken when Kiba bounces over to him and slings an arm around his shoulder while chattering his ear off, because bento, breakfast, stranger are all that registers in Naruto's mind and his world swirls. Everything seems to tilt on its axis, and Naruto wants nothing more than to run back home now and see who this brilliant and perfect person is.
But Iruka-sensei comes in at just the right moment and Naruto slouches in his seat, attention span shorter than usual, and he can't focus on anything. He fidgets with the bento on his lap the whole time, and even Shikamaru is giving him strange looks. When the bell rings for lunch, Naruto shoots off his chair and runs out to the tree where he always sits with Kiba and Chouji and Shikamaru. He usually watches them eat and hears his stomach growl emptily, and occasionally steal food from them, but now, now, he has his own bento!
Naruto is trembling with excitement when the other three boys finally settle down beside him and he shows his wrapped bento proudly, card tucked safely in the breast pocket of his jumpsuit. He won't show the card to the boys, Naruto decides, because no matter how nice they are to him – compared to the rest of the village, that is – this strange stranger is his and Naruto wants to find out the identity of this stranger before anyone else does. And if he were in a mind race with Shikamaru, Naruto would probably give up before the race even started.
"Naruto," Shikamaru asks, suddenly serious, and Naruto tenses up. "Do you know who gave it to you?"
"No," Naruto replies, but shines nonetheless. "But I bet you it's better than yours! Definitely!"
"Liar!" Kiba howls with laughter, pointing at Chouji's open bento. "Chouji's always the best, no doubt about it."
Naruto scowls, and rips the cover off the bento, proudly displaying to the boys in front of him without even glancing at the bento. "Mine's better!"
All three boys stare at the bento that seems to shine in front of them, and they all salivate a bit, because goddamn that looks good. Shikamaru shakes himself out of his stupor first, though, and asks hesitantly, "Is it poisoned?"
Naruto freezes at this, trust Shikamaru to ask the dangerous questions, but denies it firmly. "No way! He cooked breakfast for me too, and I ain't poisoned or anything!"
"Still," Chouji remarks from the side though his eyes are trained on the bento. "It might be poisoned. Want me to taste test for you?"
"I'm up for that too," Kiba mumbles as his eyes follow the bento. "Eat it all for you, for free."
"No!" Naruto yells, and hurriedly eats his bento in front of the one slightly suspicious but mostly jealous and curious boy, and two other wailing jealous boys. Ramen may be the food of the gods, Naruto muses, but this is definitely better than ramen. So good that it didn't need a name. The taste explodes on Naruto's tongue and makes him want to pray to the heavens, and Naruto decides there and then that this stranger is a very nice and helpful stranger that makes very, very good food. And if this stranger decided to make food for Naruto all the time, who was Naruto to decline? It was a good offer, anyways.
He still fed the other boys a bit, seeing as he had to pay them back somehow for the countless times he had stolen food from them, and noticed that Shikamaru somehow ate a lot more than usual. Naruto didn't usually notice these kind of things, being Naruto "oblivious is my middle name" Uzumaki, but was Shikamaru thinner or something?
Naruto filed it somewhere in the important section of his mind, and wrapping the bento with the neatest knot he could manage, swaggers off to class again because bento!
He is surprisingly attentive in class later on, and Iruka-sensei seems slightly pleased as well, and Naruto is glad because even though he pranks Iruka-sensei so much, Iruka-sensei is one of the few sensei that don't actually teach him the wrong stuff and is rather fair, which makes Naruto like Iruka-sensei more. A lot more.
When school is over, he doesn't even bother to wave goodbye to the three boys before dashing off to his house. The holey roof that leaks, the bleached walls with curses and jeers scribbled all over them, the cracked tiles on the floor, the broken staircases – they don't seem like much, but now Naruto can sense something else, someone else within and that someone else just makes everything fit and ring of home home home.
Naruto flings the door open, and the man in front of him turns, and Naruto forgets how to breathe because the stranger has hair like fire embers and red and black strands twirl together in a mad dance of shadowed flames and the eyes are such a brilliant wine colored red and whiskers on his cheeks that Naruto has as well, whiskers that belong to the both of them and when the stranger tilts his head back and his hair falls down his shoulders to dust against the middle of his back, Naruto is sure that this is his new god.
And when the man smiles, a tiny quirk of the lips that makes his eyes crease and soften and his body is languid and relaxed, Naruto understands how to breathe again. Because this man is breathtaking and his aura is amazing and Naruto can tell that this man is pure power and he. Is. His.
"Welcome home."
Naruto is too damn sure that he is home. That this, this rundown, sorry excuse of a house, is now home, because of that one man standing in Naruto's living room.
Naruto doesn't understand how it can rain in a house, but it's the only explanation for the liquid running down his cheeks.
Kurama understands that Naruto is a young, orphaned child that has had nothing but hatred and scorn directed towards him with only the occasional smile, but he refuses to believe that that gives Naruto enough reason to be so damn clingy.
(But Kurama doesn't mention how he treasures the small goodbyes and helloes and 'I'm going off' and 'welcome home' that hang in between the two of them, some unspoken, some unsaid, but they resonate deep within the two and both understand what they're trying to bring across.)
Everyday when Naruto wakes up, the first thing he does is rush out to call for Kurama, to validate his existence, that Kurama hasn't left him like every other person. After he wipes his plates clean of food and washes them (Kurama may spoil him a bit, yes – he's just a child after all, a child that hasn't been spoiled in his entire life and even if Kurama doesn't understand these strange rituals of humans, he's lived amongst them long enough to know the basics but god help him if Naruto leaves the dirty dishes in the sink again), Naruto will grab his bento and jump on the spot next to the door, eyes wide and shining as he waits to say "I'm off!" proudly and delightedly to the half-exasperated Kurama standing in the doorway of Naruto's room. Kurama will nod and call out a faint goodbye, and he'd be loathe to admit it, but Kurama waits at the door until he can't see Naruto anymore, then he makes his way to Naruto's room to stare outside of Naruto's window until he can't see Naruto from the window anymore either.
And when Naruto returns, he spends the whole of every afternoon talking to Kurama about his day, complete with messy hand gestures and overly loud sounds effects, gushing about "TEME!" and "Iruka-sensei said I did good!" and Kurama hums and nods and actually pays attention while adding in an occasional "Did well, not good." Naruto just smiles ignorantly and continues to babble on, because honestly, who would care about grammar when he finally, finally, has a listening ear? Iruka-sensei is fine, great, better than most, but he cannot dedicate every living second of his life to Naruto like Kurama can, and Kurama is far more brilliant, far better than Iruka-sensei can ever be, at least in Naruto's eyes.
Kurama doesn't understand when this whole thing started, but now he is buying weapons for Naruto because god knows the shop owners either ignore the boy, or sell him faulty weapons at extraordinary prices, which angers Kurama to no end. Kurama knows and understands what Naruto faces on a daily basis – because he was once in that very boy and he experienced everything the kid did – and he can't help but feel a little guilty, since the villagers and ninjas are discriminating against Naruto for something Kurama did, and now that he's out of Naruto and real and human and tangible, the villagers and ninjas really don't have a right to hold that against Naruto anymore. The only one who can call Naruto names is him. Kurama.
And another thing Kurama doesn't get (or more of refuses to understand) is how well Naruto takes to him. He is a demon of destruction, the nine tailed beast, the demon which occasionally wrecks havoc on villages (the one where he rages on Konoha wasn't his fault though, he was controlled – he! The demon of demons, the god of gods, was controlled!), and only when the rumor that passes down through the mouths of each generation that speak of the great demon known as Kyuubi dies down, will he attack a random village to reassert his authority and power over the weak humans. It's a very fair thing to do, Kurama believes, because he never attacks the same village twice, unless he has already attacked all other villages. But he is dangerous and power personified, and Naruto –a smiling, bouncing, blonde boy that goes "Kurama! Kurama!" whenever Naruto sees Kurama – takes to him like a fish does to water. Kurama can kill Naruto by just unleashing his killer intent, but when he sees the curved eyes and the beaming smile and the feel of arms around his waist (because really, that's as high as Naruto can reach, the chibi idiot), Kurama goes all soft.
"Kurama, Kurama, we finally got to fight today! Iruka-sensei let us practice taijutsu with each other, and I kicked Kiba's ass!" Naruto shouts to the world as he races through the doorway and into Kurama's back, arms instinctively reaching up to wrap around Kurama's waist. "I'm getting better, yeah!"
"Language," Kurama mutters absently, busy stirring the soup boiling away on the stove. The shopkeepers sell Naruto either expired or spoilt food, but when it's Kurama who buys things, even if the shopkeepers can't recognize him, they still smile and offer him their best products. And with Kurama cooking, Naruto no longer spends his time eating ramen or spoilt food, and finally, Naruto is growing like a normal boy and doesn't look so underfed anymore. "And did you really? The last time I looked in, that one guy was beating you all around the place. Uchiha?"
"Kuramaaaa," Naruto whines, petulant, even as he sneaks around to appear in between the stove and Kurama, whiskers titling up as he grins. "I'm going to beat Uchiha someday, believe it! And I really did trash Kiba, you can ask Iruka-sensei!"
Kurama idly wonders when he became this domestic, because there's a child hanging off his arms while he cooks something in between lunch and dinner to satisfy Naruto's hunger pangs as a growing child. "Maybe." He looks down and smirks at the blonde child and clicks his tongue, which makes Naruto freeze. Kurama may spoil the child, but he has rules set in place, because even if he is now a guardian or whatever those humans call it, he is still a demon, the most powerful demon in existence, and he needs some semblance of authority around the house or he'd lose his mind.
And Naruto screams, "I'm going, I'm going." while running to the shower and haphazardly dumping his clothes along the way because he knows that if he's sweaty and dirty after a day of the Academy when he comes to sit at the table to eat, Kurama will make him wait. Kurama will eat every single thing on the table – including Naruto's share – until Naruto wails and pleads, and even then, Kurama doesn't relent. It's hours later before Kurama places food in front of Naruto again, heated up and delicious. But the punishment is horrifying and torturous, and Naruto has learnt to react at that click of the tongue. Because it symbolizes pain and punishment and no food until later, which makes Naruto want to drop to his knees and beg for mercy.
Naruto rushes out of the shower to pick up his clothes and dump them in the laundry basket, before running to the table and scrambling onto the chair (because really, Naruto has to rush to do everything, he can't just walk normally). Kurama shakes his head at the boy, and sets the food down on the table while ruffling the blond hair. He already has seconds set away in the kitchen because if he knows Naruto – and he knows Naruto – then Naruto will plead for seconds. Sure enough, Naruto scarfs down his food and holds his plate out for more, at which Kurama inclines his head at the kitchen and Naruto beams before dashing into the kitchen. He reappears with more food than his plate can hold and almost topples it over, but saves it at the last moment and sets it on the table.
"Can I-," Naruto pauses to swallow. "Can you come with me to the Academy someday?"
"No." The word escapes Kurama's mouth before the question even registers in his mind, and when he sees Naruto's stricken look, Kurama lets himself feel a little guilty. "Not now, brat."
"Never?" Naruto asks, eyes turned down at his food. "Ever?"
"Why do you want me to go, anyways?" Kurama stealthily avoids answering the question, because he knows that if he does, Naruto will either break a little inside, or insist on dragging him to school the very next day.
"Because!" Naruto bursts out. "Everyone's parents always bring them to school, and then they ask Iruka-sensei about their kid, and Iruka-sensei always says things about us that he would never tell us! And, and, I thought that I'd like to let you meet my… friends…" He trails off at the back, softening and turning his head down.
"I do watch," Kurama mutters, but he understands what Naruto is trying to say – his Naruto from twenty years in the future explained to him the importance of fickle emotions in a human's life, and this emotion is one that Naruto keenly experiences. "Is it that important?" He mumbles under his breath. Kurama may be a human now, and subject to human emotions such as guilt (one that was currently crashing over him like waves), but he would never understand a human's priorities in life. When one grows to become as old as he, lazing around is the only thing on his to-do list. Maybe pay a few visits to old friends every century or so.
"But I never see you," Naruto stresses. "And neither do my friends. They think you're a figment of my imagination!"
"They think I don't exist?" And Kurama, despite himself and the growingly irritated boy in front of him, feels amused. Because his existence has been validated through rumors and tales passed down through generations and experiences, and a couple of wannabe-ninja boys think that he doesn't exist? Hilarious.
Naruto quiets down, and slips off the chair before dumping the plates in the sink. Kurama watches him go, and is sorely reminded of the way the Naruto's shoulders hunch over and his grip tightens marginally. Kurama hasn't spent twenty six and over years in Naruto's body for nothing, he can read the boy like an open book. And hunched over shoulders with tight grips mean that the boy is frightened, worried, and angry all at once. But fear takes precedence, and with the way Naruto has lived for the past eight years, Kurama is not surprised.
He pads back into the living room, footsteps soft and silent as Naruto makes his way to Kurama. He clambers up onto Kurama's lap and buries his face in the juncture of Kurama's neck, sniffling quietly. "I know," he starts, and Kurama's arms instinctively wrap around the boy. "Please don't get mad at me."
"Brat," Kurama sighs and pats the boy on the back. "I'm not mad at you. You're eight; eight-year-olds are allowed to have temper tantrums once in a while. I think. And I won't leave. Not now, not ever." I didn't – couldn't – leave you before, I'm not going to ditch you now.
"Kurama," Naruto says, before pausing and shaking his head. "Will you come though? Someday?"
"Of course I will," the red haired man promises, hair flowing like a curtain around the two of them as he stands, picking Naruto up like he weighs absolutely nothing at all. And Naruto beams like he is pure sunshine (and he probably is, Kurama muses, both twenty years later and now, with that blonde hair and baby blue eyes and huge, contagious grin), his arms reaching up to wrap around Kurama's neck so he is essentially swinging off Kurama. Naruto whips himself around, previous sadness forgotten, and lands heavily on Kurama's back, but Kurama doesn't really feel a thing. "Move on, noble steed!" Naruto commands, eyes bright and beautiful, and if eyes are really the windows to the soul, Naruto's soul must be pure and untainted right now, Kurama thinks, the way the sky looks on a cloudless day.
Kurama bucks, just to scare Naruto, and Naruto laughs, a high-pitched breathless laughter that makes Kurama feel warm and comfortable, and maybe I can understand why humans like to breed so much. His grip around Naruto's thighs tighten, and he takes Naruto on a gallop around the house, both to pacify Naruto and himself. It's been ages since Kurama's been a child, and he's never been a parent or anything, and being able to just relax and go crazy is something he's never done before. If Naruto's life before meeting Kurama was loneliness and discrimination and hatred, Kurama's was all that amplified.
He isn't the best guardian, not by far, and Kurama can even name a few other demons off the top of his head right now that could be better guardians to Naruto. But he has a promise, and he will keep that promise, so for now, just right now, Naruto is all his.
(And the memory of a blonde boy with breathless laughter ringing in the air and bright blue eyes, precious and perfect, glimmering in the sunlight, being carried by a man with red hair and black streaks with a teasing smile on his face, red eyes glinting as he tosses the boy up in the air – the memory is treasured.)