Authors note: This is an Alternate Universe piece. The point of divergence should be clearly shown in the first chapter. The general idea for the fic is based on a complaint I have about the character of Naruto. While he has his unique points, he is much too similar to every other Shonen Jump characters. I am attempting to preserve his uniqueness while moving away from the Shonen Jump stereotype. The fic will more or less follow the Manga up until the end of the Chuunin Exam, after which it divergence becomes much too great to have it follow the main story.
My promises to you, the reader.
1)No Yaoi/Yuri among cannon characters. Not even jokes about Orochimaru.
2)No Mary Sue.
3)A signed review will elicit a personal e-mail reply. Replies will not take up the space of this fic.
4)Angst in moderation only.
The Memoirs of Uzumaki Naruto
Book the First: Dead Last
Chapter 1 – In the Beginning
I suppose it is a matter of definition that all stories should start at the beginning. However, finding where, or rather when, the beginning actually occurs is often quite difficult. For me, everything started when I was born, but the real story started long before that. One could say it started when the hidden villages were founded, or perhaps when chakra was first discovered, or further back still when a certain fox demon was brought forth mewing into this world? Alas, I don't have the inclination or the knowledge to go through several hundred years of history for you, whomever you are. I'm sure that reciting the history lessons I've learned at the Academy is NOT the reason I'm writing this.
As for the reason I AM writing this, I'm not quite sure myself. I suppose that I just want some way to set down events from MY point of view. With my background, I'm probably the most misrepresented person in the history of Konoha. I'm usually thought of as either a demon that should never have been allowed to live, the greatest ninja ever to walk the earth, or a manipulative bastard who has manged to capture undeserved attention. There are only a handful of people still alive at the time I write this who I can say really know me. This will therefore be the story of Uzumaki Naruto: The Man, a story I can safely write without being worried about pissing anyone off. That, or I'm just doing this since I'm bored out of my skull.
In any case: In The Beginning, I was born. I can only assume that I had both a father and a mother, though their names are lost to me forever. I've always wondered who my parents were as a child, often fantasizing me as the son of the Fourth Hokage, an unacknowledged child of a Hyuuga or Uchiha (a wish that was ironically absurd in retrospect) or perhaps even a long-lost prince of the Great Emperor of the West. However, the sad fact is that I do not know who my parents are, and the one being who might know isn't on speaking terms with me. In any case, who my parents are isn't important except for the fact that they weren't there. What IS important was that right after my birth, the one of the greatest demons known to man was sealed into my belly button and because of that I was hated for my entire life.
Now the jump in logic to "demon sealed in child's belly" to "hate the child" may not be immediately obvious. The people of Konoha technically didn't have a reason (in the classical sense) to hate me. However, after the destruction the Nine-tailed Fox Demon, the Kyuubi Kitsune, wreaked on the village, the people were hurt, and angry. Ancient homes were reduced to kindling, loved ones were ripped away, young lives were tragically cut short all within the space of a few days. People under that type of grief needed someone to blame, to take out their frustrations on. Usually they would blame the gods, the enemy, or politicians, but this time they were fortunate to have me. It's rather surprising that I was allowed to attend the Ninja Academy, or even survive my childhood at all. I'm sure much of it has to do with the efforts of the Third Hokage. As much as I appreciate his actions, I can't help but wonder why he couldn't have just not told anyone that I was the demon's vessel. I mean, what did he THINK was going to happen?
In any case, while I was in some orphanage the first few years of my life, when I was six I was given my own apartment, with a caretaker who came around every day to make sure I hadn't gotten myself killed. I remember feeling relieved when I had a place of my own, since I didn't have to deal with the hostility of the other kids and the adults at the orphanage. Being able to go to sleep without having to worry if someone was going to dump a bucket of ice water (or worse) on you while you slept was a BIG plus. However, after moving out life got boring. Besides the school work (which was boring) I spent most of my time wandering aimlessly, hiding from the adults, running from the children, or huddled in the corner of the library reading their pathetically small manga collection for the umpteenth time. It wasn't a very happy time for me. I was bored and lonely and miserable and I had no idea why. I might have gone through my entire life like that if it wasn't for one incident when I was seven.
Life is often strange in funny ways. For much of my later years I kept on wondering what if I had turned right instead of left, or if two different policemen were off duty that day? Would my life have turned out to be completely different, or would I have come to the same conclusion on my own? In any case, by fate or by luck, one summer evening when I was seven, I found myself playing a game of cops-and-robbers with several kids two or three years older than I was. Rather than being happy at being included, I was rather upset at the others, mainly because I didn't agree to play. They just spotted me walking along the river and decided I needed to be arrested. Having been a victim of their "police action" before, I was in no hurry to be caught again. After a chase that took me through what seemed like half of Konoha, I rounded a corner and happened upon two real policemen lounging in front of an outdoors equipment shop.
This was the first time that I had seen a policeman in person, so I was suitably in awe. My teacher at the Academy described them as the guardians of Konoha, the protector of its citizens, defenders of the wronged, paragons of light and justice etc. etc. Every young child loved and feared them, or were at least respectful of their power. Seeing them up close only served to increase my awe. They were huge, towering over everyone else with bulging muscles, covered with scars that were a testament to their experience, and carrying around huge swords (at least these two were). To a seven year old, they were perfect. Being perfect, they would surely help me out with my problems. I asked them for help, and they said no.
Every child in elementary school are taught how to become good people, and to treat everyone with kindness. Unfortunately, those lessons never seemed to apply to me. While I thought it possible that children, or even some adults, could ignore these ideals, fact that the police, elite guardians of the village would break their own rules never crossed my mind. I didn't believe it at first. I tried reminding them of their duty thinking they had just forgot. I assured them that I wasn't really a criminal, and that it would be kidnapping. The policemen did nothing. Even as I was being dragged away I screamed "You're the police! You have to help me!"
The reply was, I'm sure, quite a bit more profound than they intended it to be seeing how flippantly it was given. "No one cares about you. I don't have to do anything."
I had a lot of time to think about this as I was being held in their "super-secret prison base". The words just kept repeating themselves in my mind "I don't have to do anything." Up until this point, the only real idea I had about the rules and laws was that the adults enforced them and the kids followed them. The idea that the defenders of the law would not follow their own rules never crossed my mind. "Can they do that?" my young mind wondered "I guess they can." From that realization, a thousand possibilities sprung forth. What if my teacher ignored the rules and allowed others to pick on me? What if someone stole my things and the police decided to ignore it? What if I was KILLED and the entire incident laughed off as a joke? While the entire world seemed to be against me, I always had the comfort of knowing that if they couldn't do anything too bad because the law would punish them. Now the world suddenly became a very cold place.
It became clear that if no one would protect me, then I needed to protect myself. I needed to become stronger, so that even if everyone in the world turned their backs on me, I would still have myself. That was the conclusion I came to as I began working my way free from their "escape proof" knots (they had left me there when going home to dinner.) In retrospect, it strikes me as highly ironic, that from being determined to take on the entire world if need be, I would make the greatest sacrifice on their behalf. Life is often strange that way.