Chapter 2
The very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone.
Naruto is assigned under Jounin Shirakumo Hayama alongside two other genin. But it is Inuzuka Hana – the previous student of her jounin sensei – that she truly finds kinship with.
Whereas her sensei and teammates are professional and wary respectively, Hana takes it upon herself to mentor Naruto in the 'secrets of kunoichi,' supposedly passed down from woman to woman since Konoha's founding. It is from her Naruto learns to embrace her feminine side, gains awareness that her features are exotic rather than obnoxious, and begins to find confidence in her own skin.
Naruto has long since stopped caring about what people think of her. But that is different from realising that what they are thinking is wrong.
Her eyes may be the colour of bruises, but that does not make them unappealing. The hair that marks her as foreign is bold and stunning, not ugly. She can be beautiful, and even those who look upon her and think demon cannot deny it.
She and Hana share secrets over late nights painting their nails with shinobi-grade polish, and it is then that Naruto learns Hana too, was Itachi's friend.
They weren't as close as Naruto considers herself to be, but his absence hurts Hana just as it hurts her.
The fact that she has another thing in common with Itachi thrills her, but Naruto thinks it's no great shock that he would have seen Hana and her friendly ways and liked her as well. Inuzuka Hana is so easy to like.
One evening after Hana confesses she was friends with Konoha's most infamous traitor, Naruto tells her a secret in return. She gives voice to how much she misses Itachi, how she sometimes makes rice balls in her kitchen and sets aside a portion for him, only to experience that same crushing realisation all over again.
Naruto becomes a regular visitor to the Inuzuka compound, learns to respect Tsume-sama a great deal, and even comes to like Hana's brother Kiba, who can be an utter brat.
In Itachi's absence, there is laughter, friendship and even happiness.
But Naruto is not whole.
There is an itch beneath her skin that drives her from her warm bed to spend that extra hour in the morning at the training grounds. That forces her to the library on her days off, and makes her run through hand signs again and again while waiting for her ramen to be ready.
Although Naruto is not miserable, she is not content.
Her teammates don't understand her. For one, they don't know about the fox, only that she has a terrible reputation amongst the civilians. Being from clans themselves however, they are more insulated from civilian gossip and with time their relationship becomes professionally friendly. Their personalities are too different for any of them to become closer, so at least this is one area of her life the kyuubi hasn't sabotaged.
Naruto finds herself warming up to Hayama-sensei as they spend more time together. The man's a good teacher and once they discover she also has a wind element, he spends more time focused on her, teaching her about their shared element.
A sword wielder, they quickly discover Naruto has absolutely no talent with the weapon herself and instead he runs her through a series of extensive testing to find the best one for her.
Her new tessen fans are almost too beautiful to be used for the violence they were crafted for, crimson spirals painted delicately on a snow-white background.
Under Hayama-sensei's watchful guidance she learns to make the wind dance to her will, from a gentle and graceful breeze to a howling horror that can cut through tree, bone, and flesh all at once.
The first time Naruto discovers this, she is sick to her stomach and heaves her lunch into the bushes. It takes her weeks before nightmares stop, and for all that she has been labelled a demon her entire life, she thinks that she is anything but.
For all the wonder of flying through the treetops, the glamour of travelling the nations, and being able to do things most people can't even imagine is possible - Naruto thinks this aspect of ninja life is something she won't ever get used to.
Konoha is a beautiful village. The way it looks from the Hokage monument after dark, all those lights glinting amongst the trees; it's stunning.
Despite the isolation the populace has forced upon her, Naruto is actually rather fond of Konoha. Perhaps not the people, but can she really blame them for being so scared of the creature that had killed so many of their friends and family?
She can't. She can't blame them.
How can she when she saw the naked terror upon a mother's face when she caught sight of her child playing with Naruto in the park? When the men and women missing limbs tremble in her presence, and their eyes gloss over with remembered horrors? When the graveyard is filled with rows upon rows of tombstones, all laid down after the kyuubi?
But while she doesn't hate Konoha, and wishes her people all the happiness they deserve, she cannot consider it home.
Home is where the heart is, and hers lays somewhere beyond the tall stone walls.
It is winter, three and half years after that day. In the cosy warmth of her apartment, Naruto sits alone with a cup of tea as snow falls outside her window. She traces the photo on the page in her lap with reverence, wondering not for the first time why no one bothers to tell her anything.
Uzumaki Kushina. The Red-Chained Death.
Her mother.
A wielder of the Uzumaki Adamantine Chakra Chains, Kushina was said to have been indomitable with her massive reserves, inescapable due to her barriers and completely terrifying thanks to her sheer aggression.
Naruto thinks even if they weren't related, she would have idolised Kushina based on her bingo book page alone.
How did her mother live? Did she have friends? Where were they, and did they not care about Kushina enough to even say hello to her only child? Did she have a husband, a boyfriend, or was Naruto the result of a one-night stand?
Kushina, too, was an outsider. Having immigrated from Whirlpool as a child, did she feel as out of place in Konoha as Naruto does? Did she miss her home as fiercely as Naruto misses her own?
So many questions she may never get the answers to.
How is it possible to miss someone you have never known?
Uzumaki Kushina grins fiercely up at her daughter from the faded bingo book, looking vibrant and alive. It is a grin Naruto herself has worn on occasion, and she finds herself believing that Kushina would have liked her.
Her mother's picture is added to her box of treasures, joining the eclectic collection she's built over the years. Nestled amidst golden candy wrappers, there is a small jar of seashells Itachi brought her from a mission and a beautiful kanzashi – the hair stick having appeared on her pillow when she was seven. More recently, Hana's gifts have been joining them, delicate ruby earrings glinting amongst the pile.
As the snow continues to blanket the village in a hushed layer of stillness, Naruto feels the empty silence more acutely than ever.
As the years go by and her collection of ghosts grows ever larger, she thinks once again about getting a new place.
Not for the first time, she rejects the idea.
Naruto has long since lost track of the number of times she's considered moving. She could even move into the apartment next door – the entire floor of her building is empty, nobody brave enough to sleep next to the demon fox. But she has never been able to bring herself leave.
Sometimes, when it's been a bad day and she comes back to an empty house, she feels Itachi's absence like a gaping wound.
Her kitchen pans are still the ones he used to teach her to cook. Her bowls are the ones she first served homemade ramen in and ate together with him. The couch they used to sit on has faded, but the fluffy comforter remains a shocking orange colour, the one that never failed to cause Itachi's nose to wrinkle in distaste.
It's still Naruto's favourite.
Sometimes the ghosts are so strong she can't even bare to remain, jumping out her window to carve up a training ground with her wind techniques.
She wonders if Itachi, wherever he is in the world, is also thinking of her.
When he smells ramen does he think of her cooking it in the room over? When he walks past someone wearing orange, does he remember the jumpsuit that was her favourite as a kid, the one he had thrown out with extreme prejudice?
Is he missing her, just as achingly as she misses him?
Selfishly, greedily, Naruto wishes he does.
She is thirteen, a chuunin of one year, when Konoha is attacked by Oto and Suna.
Naruto does her duty as Konoha's jinchuuriki; she fights her fellow jinchuuriki and wins. But she cannot bring herself to kill someone who is so alike that he could very well be her mirror image. Instead, Naruto lets his siblings retrieve him and flee with her last parting words:
"Find someone to love. Even if it's just one person, find someone you can love with everything you are. They will make life worth living."
"Did you find them? Someone who a demon can love. Someone who can love a demon?" Gaara rasped out, gazing at her as if she had all the answers, eyes reflecting the same loneliness she felt every day.
And maybe, to a fellow jinchuuriki, the answer Naruto had found years ago would be the correct one for him too.
Naruto glanced down at her wrist and when she looked up, she smiled - a true, beautiful smile.
"Yes. I found him."
The Sandaime is killed, and Naruto mourns. He may not have treated her as she wished, may have only been kind because she is the jinchuuriki, but there's no doubt he was the one who arranged her protection and care when she was younger. For that, she will forever be grateful.
His student – the last loyal to the leaf – takes her away to continue her jinchuuriki training. Naruto goes as bid, never one to turn down the opportunity to grow stronger. She may be good for a chuunin, even great, but she has gaping weaknesses her genin instructor hasn't managed to train out of her.
Jiraiya is a complex person.
He makes a terrible first impression, peeping on women in the bathhouses – Naruto had initially been enraged, she had visited those bathhouses! But it is not maliciously done.
Jiraiya giggles so loudly even a civilian couldn't fail to notice his presence, and he always lets the enraged women beat him up after proclaiming loudly and to the skies that he is a pervert. He is always extremely careful to make sure there are no children present, nor those who are self-conscious about their appearance. Naruto hasn't the faintest clue how he knows, but none of the women he peeks on are ever truly frightened or feel violated by his actions.
He is a considerate pervert – a contradiction if there ever is one.
Overall, if one can ignore his personality, she finds herself pleased that she has such a strong teacher, especially one who knows seals.
Naruto has known about the Uzumaki clan for years of course. Itachi had told her of them one evening, both curled up on her couch while she listened to the Uchiha speak of ancient legends. Those were her favourites – close enough to fairy tales they appealed to the child Naruto was and intertwined with history that Itachi was equally fascinated – and the Uzumaki had come up in one of his stories.
She had begged him to tell her all the tales he knew of her ancestors, and later wept bitterly for the family she'd never known when he told her of Uzushio's fall.
Naruto wonders, sometimes, what her clan would say if they could see her now. Would they like her? Would they approve of her goals even though Itachi had done to his own family what was done to them?
In the end, it is meaningless speculation. Even if Naruto were to meet another Uzumaki, no amount of disapproval would sway her from her course. Still, it is a reoccurring thought that crops up as she slogs through sealing primers - something she must no longer do nearly as often.
Learning fuuinjutsu is much easier from a master than from books, and Naruto devours Jiraiya's knowledge with a desperation of an orphan looking for hints of her family within the seals. She doesn't find them, of course, but it's a nice thought to imagine hundreds of Uzumaki before her also cursing stabilisation matrices and geometric arrays.
One ordinary afternoon on their mission to find Senju Tsunade, Naruto can once again be found in a hotel room, crumpled paper baring practice seals strewn about the floor. Jiraiya has long since left to indulge his vices while sniffing out rumours.
She thinks nothing of the knock on the door, merely wondering if the hotel staff were dropping off clean towels.
Instead of the gentle green of the staff uniforms, she is greeted with bold crimson on black. Garbed in the cloak was the very man whose existence her life has revolved around, since the first innocent act of simple kindness shown to a lonely girl.
In all the scenarios Naruto has envisioned of their reunion, never did she imagine he would be the one to find her.
"Itachi." Naruto breathes.
He is before her at last.