Adamrpg here. I should have a bit of time during the Winter Break here, so this chapter and one more before winter break ends is kind of what I'm expecting. At the very least, this chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. If I did, Shisui would have had a larger role, and the dead Uchiha clan would have made an appearance to Sasuke.
Every time he took Naruto out to get groceries, he made sure to get a lot - that way, this trip wouldn't have to happen often. It had been three months, and this was the fourth (and last) time he was taking Naruto out to get the groceries before Naruto would have to get them himself. Hiruzen looked down at little Naruto, whom was learning to read relatively quickly after his sputtering start. He had one hand in Hiruzen's, and another was holding a newspaper, his little eyes peering down with great concentration to try and read it.
It wasn't just to read; it was another way to escape from the stares of the adults around them, some disgusted at the Hokage for allowing the child to live; others holding their gaze in fear of the Hokage; and others just mildly interested, but too afraid to approach due to their friends or family being afraid of the boy. To Naruto, it all looked the same: Scary. Anyone that Hiruzen didn't personally entrust with Naruto, the boy just assumed it was bad. Hiruzen sighed; maybe being inside with Kakashi in Wolf-form hadn't been a good idea after all... not only had Naruto not gone out to interact with the public, but he couldn't tell the bad stares from the neutral stares from the sympathetic ones (mostly from the older ninja). It reminded him of the ROOT children. Speaking of...
"Jiji!" Naruto looked up suddenly, after staring at a particular advertisement for a few minutes as they walked.
"Yes, Naruto-kun?" He asked, curious at the excitement. Naruto was practically vibrating.
"This... thing, are-oh-oh-tee, says its a ninja thing for orphans and other kids who don't wanna go to the Academy." Naruto pointed at the page,the advertisement specifically made simple so that orphans with little reading ability could still get something from it. It was ROOT alright; modified after Danzo had been taken off the program. Jiraiya was now the main director of the program, so he stopped in every few months (as opposed to every couple of years, which was the trend before; he hoped it would convince Jiraiya to spend time with Naruto). Danzo had a good heart when he was making ROOT; but it needed reforming, and the children needed to heal and feel again. There were now, instead of older ROOT operatives and ex-ANBU as the senseis, Yamanakas and other ninja who were especially vibrant and lively. His best choice so far... he closed his eyes and smiled. Maito Gai had broken through to the kids, his ridiculous antics either inspiring them or breaking their masks and pulling out their laughter. The Yamanakas' gentle approach was a good supplement, but Gai was excellent with the kids, even when dealing with dozens of them, whereas the Yamanakas could only focus on one or two children at a time. Plus, his knowledge of the physiques of children and how to treat their bodies exceeded even many medic-ninjas' knowledge. This helped immensely in treating the ones who had been 'trained' by starvation and other damaging techniques. Oh, he thanked Gai every time he saw the man. He'd simply smile his smile and give him a thumbs up.
He was pulled back to reality by Naruto tugging on his hand. "Did ya hear me, Jiji?"
The old man's lips quirked. While the ROOT program was now also inviting new children who weren't fit for the academy or needed what ROOT had to offer (shelter, food, and guaranteed employment after), it still was not a normal childhood experience. The program still kept to its mission; dedicating most of its time to training and learning, and little for play. The children were treated civilly, but there were high expectations.
"Yes, Naruto-kun, I did. I'm not that old yet," he drew a giggle from Naruto, "but I think this isn't right for you. That word you didn't know, ROOT, is the name of that program. The children there don't have time to play or have an innocent childhood; something you may find in the Academy." They stopped outside the store, and the old man knelt down to Naruto. "Why do you not want to go to the Academy, Naruto-kun?"
Naruto let his eyes drop down to the ground. "When you walked me to there, there were all the kids, 'n they all had parents. And they looked at me bad, mean..." Naruto brought his eyes back up to see the old man's. "I don't wanna be all alone there..." The only one without parents. And more than that, Hiruzen knew that the children may copy their parents at first, treating Naruto wrong and not seeing him for him. But he had to believe that the children would see past that once they spent actual time with Naruto. He had to believe it, believe that innocent, young children wouldn't all be bad.
The Hokage squeezed Naruto's hand. "You won't be all alone there. Believe it," he echoed Naruto those months ago. Naruto's lips quirked, remembering. Believe it.
"Promise?" Naruto asked.
He put his faith where his words were. "I promise, Naruto-kun."
The Uchiha children were usually brighter children at younger ages than normal children. It could have been something genetic with the Sharingan, some sort of innate ability to remember things that went along with the wiring for the Sharingan latent somewhere in their heads, or maybe it could have been the environment they were raised in, where the children had high expectations put on them from an early age. Itachi Uchiha had seemed to have both from an early age, graduating from the Academy only six months after the Kyuubi attack. Now ten years old, he quietly sat at the dinner table with his parents and younger brother, after a day of modest celebration his mother had organized. This was the day he had officially become a Chuunin.
Sasuke had blabbered the whole day to all his cousins and Uchiha friends about how amazing his brother was. When Shisui, fourteen and also a prodigy (having become Chuunin at age twelve) had heard, he'd laughed. "He's already matched my skill level for a few months now," Shisui had mentioned, "It just took a little while for his rank to catch up." Shunshin no Shisui, master of the Shunshin no Jutsu - some liked to joke that he was the second coming of the Yellow Flash. "I'm not quite there yet," he'd usually say, a modest smile on his lips.
Fugaku looked at his eldest son with a small smile on his face - a rare sight. Itachi Uchiha... Even if Fugaku died bringing back the Uchiha glory, he knew Itachi was capable enough to carry the clan on his shoulders. "Now that you're a Chuunin, Itachi," he spoke, getting the attention of everyone at the table, "I consider you now an adult. As such, we can begin preparing you for the Clan Head's duties, as well as begin your true Uchiha training."
Mikoto looked a little concerned. "He's still got a way to go though, Fugaku. You only began your Clan Head preparation when you were seventeen." He shot her a look; Oh, she realized, her heart dropping a little. She repressed the wave of sadness threatening to sweep her; it seemed like Fugaku was truly intent on preparing the clan for... that.
Fugaku then continued, his smile no longer there. "You are more talented than me, son; starting early will make you all the stronger in the long run."
Sasuke, not yet old enough to know when to keep quiet, piped up. "Does that mean Itachi will be too busy to pla- I mean, train with me?"
Fugaku gruffly answered. "Yes, Sasuke, now be quiet, this is an important moment for your brother," he said, dismissing him. Sasuke, used to the treatment but still feeling the sting, clamped his mouth shut. "Now-"
"That isn't why I'll be busy, Sasuke," Itachi finally spoke, before looking at his father. "I'll be busy because I will be undergoing the ANBU recruitment and training process." His voice was firm, unwavering. It was not angry, or bitter, or scared of his father; it was the voice of a man who knew he was in charge of his own life.
His father's black eyes bled into the red of the Sharingan, adding to his imposing demeanor. "I am your father, Itachi," he ground out, anger swelling inside of him at the apparent act of rebellion. Maybe Mikoto was right, it was too early, Itachi was just starting the teenage rebellious streak, maybe the clan could wai - no. The clan couldn't wait. They had to prepare to act before Konoha sucked any more prestige and power out of them. And so he continued. "You will undergo the Clan Head preparations."
Itachi looked sympathetic, not angry. "I'm sorry, father. It must be hard for you to have me say this, but this is what I want to do right now. I will get stronger through this, and will master my emotions through my ANBU training, preparing me to lead the clan as well. And when I am not on duty, I can undergo your training and preparations."
Itachi thought he could do it all; live the ANBU life, see what made Konoha work, and do his duty for his clan, pleasing his father; but all Fugaku saw was an excuse. His eyes narrowed, his mouth opened, and the fighting lasted into the night. Itachi left after awhile, seeking Shisui for training that lasted well into the night.
And the next morning, Mikoto found it was hard to draw any more tears when she looked at her bruises. This wasn't the same man she had known before the Kyuubi attack, before everything had gone to hell for the Uchiha clan. Always whispering, they were, about Uchiha Madara and his ability to control the Kyuubi with his Sharingan. About how the Uchiha could've caused the attack, or stopped it without costing the Yondaime his life; but they were too weak, or too cowardly, or too evil to try. Fugaku only saw the bad in the Sandaime, Mikoto knew; Fugaku only saw the Sandaime's reduction of the Uchiha's role in the police force, and all the other little policy changes that made the Uchiha presence in how the village is run smaller. He never saw how the Sandaime wanted to reduce the slander on the Uchiha name, how keeping them separate would reduce tension in the village. It didn't always work, but Mikoto could see it.
And in the future, Itachi would see it too.
Meanwhile, a young Hyuuga heiress wept over the loss of her mother. Hiashi's heart grew colder, harder, and would not offer Hinata comfort, secluding himself. Branch members took care of the baby, newborn Hanabi; and when Hinata tried going to her cousin Neji, he pushed her away, too, with cold eyes and colder words. It's only fate, he had said. Hinata found no comfort in the Hyuugas, and wept to sleep in a cold, lonely bed.
Neji sat on his bedside, smiling a little. It seems fate also wants to strike at the Main Branch, he thought. He did not let others in on the fact that he was happy the Main Branch had lost another member; it would make his Branch less inclined to help him in his training if they knew what was going on inside him. Neji dusted off the lone picture he had of his father. "I may be fated to always be a servant to the Main Branch, father; but the Main Branch will suffer for what they made you do." When he saw Hinata, or even Hanabi, that was what he saw; the Main Branch, not a sensitive little girl and a newborn child.
He rested easy that night.
A pale figure finished his string of seals, slamming his palms into the ground. A second later, a coffin eerily, slowly began rising out of the murky ground. When it opened, and the being inside stepped out, the figure's lips stretched into a smile. It is done. He knew he needed to improve it, but it seemed to be good enough for now. He slammed a kunai marked with a control-amplifying seal into the neck of the being, who then stepped forward. With a simple thought, the being bowed low to the ground, before standing straight once more, in his blue battle suit.
The original creator of the Impure Resurrection Technique stood before him, his skin pasty and his eyes black. Oh, what I can do with this...
A month later, Naruto found he needed to do grocery shopping. This time, he would be alone. His tiny hands clung onto a small list he had. He didn't know how to write the names of a lot of things, but the Hokage had made sure he knew the fundamentals. Toilet paper, some food items, drinks, things like that. He bit his lip in anxiety, but he reminded himself: How could he be Hokage if he couldn't do some shopping? Bolstered by this and his good memories of shopping with the Sandaime, little Naruto grabbed his rucksack and some bills from the wad of money the village offered to displaced orphans every month. The old man had told him not to take all of it in case he dropped it, which made sense.
Naruto undid the three locks on his door, and warily opened it to the sunlight outside. He needed to do this; he'd run out of the last of his food and hadn't thought to buy more before he got hungry. So this had to be done today, he told himself. Or else there would be no food. He stuffed the money in one of the pockets in his green shorts, shouldered his rucksack, and began walking.
Soon after, he was running; from the stares, the glares, trying to get to the store as soon as he could as fast as possible. He kicked up some dust behind him and winced as his pack dug into his back with each step. When he reached the market the Sandaime had last taken him to, he stopped and stood in front of the door. One may have thought it strange that he wasn't breathing very hard after running for a couple minutes.
His hand gripped the handle and, gulping down his hesitation, pulled it open.
The rain was pouring down hard later that night. He looked down at the wet ground beneath him, not really paying attention to where he was going. Squelch. Another step. Squelch.
Though there were laws preventing discrimination in shops, it wasn't hard for shop owners to kick him out for "causing public disturbances" in their stores. After all, what else could you call a sudden migration of the civilians in the store to the exit? Where whispers, or even outright shouts slandering him were predominant? What shopkeeper wanted to lose their reputation by allowing the resident "demon child" to buy their goods? Even the good ones, the ones who didn't hate him, couldn't stand to see their regular customers just up and... leave.
But little five-and-a-half year old Naruto didn't understand any of this. All he knew was that he had to keep going, because dang it, he needed to shop, what Hokage couldn't even shop? And he needed to eat, too. The hunger gnawed at his stomach, ravenous after a whole day without food. He shivered, too - though his body was more resistant to the cold than other people, being in shorts and a t-shirt while rain pounded down for over an hour, being soaked for over an hour was too much. He was freezing.
Hungry, cold, and... alone. The Sandaime wasn't with him this time, and though his explanation before (something about him being busy and Naruto needing to learn how to do this himself) had made sense then, right now he just wanted his Jiji.
He wanted his Jiji so bad. His feet stopped squelching as he stopped walking, and instead dropped his pack onto the sidewalk. He sat down and buried his face in his hands as the sobs began. He couldn't help it; this quiet, this loneliness, his hunger and cold, the fact that he couldn't really feel his hands anymore... It was all just too much.
Light spilled onto him from behind as a curtain was pushed to the side, and a man with hints of gray hair stood by it. Naruto turned to see what was causing the light. A smile was there waiting for him; Naruto could understand smiles.
"Come in, you must be freezing," the man said, "And I can make you a bowl of ramen to warm you up." At Naruto's hesitation, he pushed the curtain open farther, unveiling a little food shop with only about ten seats in it. "Come on in," he repeated warmly.
Suddenly, the tears running down his face weren't bad tears, but good.
Naruto had not one, not two, but three bowls of ramen, downed almost as quickly as a hungry Akimichi. Teuchi was in the back of the store now, letting Naruto get warm in his store before he had to face the rain again. He washed a couple dishes.
"Dad," Twelve year-old Ayame said behind him. Her voice was angry. "Why are you letting him in here? All my friends' parents say to stay away from him!"
Teuchi sighed, having expected this. "He's just a boy, tired, cold, and hungry. I don't care what the other parents say; if I see a hungry child, I want that kid fed. Now wait here while I check up on him." Ayame gritted her teeth as Teuchi went to the front again.
Naruto was just pulling the money he had from his pocket. The crumpled bills had disintegrated a little due to being, well, soaked. "Here," Naruto said to Teuchi, smiling for the first time that day. He plopped the wad on the counter and Teuchi picked it up, not sure if the bills would even be salvageable as money anymore. Nonetheless, he smiled, seeing the brightness in Naruto's eyes. "f'it's not enough, I can go get more at my apartment and come back," the boy said, uncaring of the fact he'd have to make two more journeys in the cold rain if he did that.
Teuchi shook his head gently. Looking a little more closely, the money wasn't salvageable anymore. "It's enough. Thank you. Are you warm now? I can turn up the heat." Naruto bit his lip at the words, kinder than any he'd heard in the last month. Tears threatened to spill again.
"Arigato! (Thank you!)" Naruto shouted, lowering his head to the counter. It was coming out. "Arigato! Arigato!" He sniffled, and resumed speaking with his head lowered. "No one else let me in their shop, and I've never tasted better ramen, and you're the best ramen chef in the world, and..." It wasn't just the ramen that made him the best. He had made sure to make Naruto comfortable... That was too meaningful to him for words to express.
The man's heart danced at the praise, at how this child, not a demon, had already been through all this today and still had time to thank him. "You mustn't continue, Naruto," Teuchi started, snapping Naruto out of it, "Or else my head might just get so big it explodes!" This wriggled a laugh out of Naruto, and the ramen chef smiled again. "I'm not all that; I'm just Teuchi Ichiraku, proud owner of the Ichiraku Ramen shop. Happy to serve you, little guy."
That did it. Naruto smiled a beautiful smile that seemed to stretch the whole of Konoha, and made a proclamation. "I'm not just a little guy," he started, "I'm Naruto Uzumaki!" He jabbed a thumb at himself. "Future Hokage! And I'll visit as Hokage so much that you'll become rich!"
Teuchi chuckled, and Ayame stood off to the side, staring at Naruto, thinking that maybe this boy wasn't that bad.
When Naruto left and moved the curtain aside, he found that the rain had stopped drizzling down. He looked up to the sky, where there were now no storm clouds blocking the sun, and now just the sunset's pretty colors, and smiled.
With his pack full of take-home ramen he could eat later, and some memories of his and Teuchi's conversation, Naruto felt he'd be alright.
AN: Glad to have finished this one. What do you guys think of how I'm writing it? Any good or bad? Did I make any typos?
Thanks for reading!