I should have been happy, should have been thrilled, but I wasn't. In fact I was downright terrified the more I thought about life as a civilian. Civilians were weak, defenseless, and completely helpless to the goings on of shinobi. And the future was going to be dangerous. Invasions, attacks and the Fourth Great War, I needed to be able to protect myself no matter what. To quote Toby Mac; (That) ain't no trouble overseas, no Vietnam. If I couldn't fight for myself I was completely screwed.
So what does someone do when your life depends on becoming a ninja and you can't do that?
I didn't come to a conclusion right away, matter of fact it took me almost a month to decide that I what I was going to do.
In the month after the discovery things changed. My father stopped smiling at just the sight of me, in fact whenever our eyes met I swear he would flinch. There were no more trips into the air, no more lighting up in his eyes or laughter at my occasional stumbles. He was withdrawing, I realized, and that was my first clue to the severity of my situation.
My mother was the exact opposite. She started smothering me, constant attention and almost constant crying. For all her clinging her eyes were duller, the lines in her face deeper and her shoulders more tense. I was starting to worry she would develop prenatal depression.
Their behavior wormed its way under my skin, combined with my near constant confinement to the house I was steadily growing more and more restless, closer to an explosion. I wasn't even allowed to play outside in case it caused further damage to my heart. Eventually my emotional capacity reached its limit and I did what anyone in my situation would do. I ran away.
It wasn't dramatic, there were no slamming doors or screaming at my parents for changing, not even any tears. There was literal running though, down the walkway to the sidewalk and beyond. I just ran, as fast as I could as the sun started to set and my mother did the dishes. Akio was somewhere else, probably on a mission somewhere. By then I didn't even care.
I needed a break, somewhere to go, to think where no one would be watching and if needed I could have a good, long breakdown.
My neighborhood did not fit this criteria, and so was left far behind.
I don't know if I've already mentioned this, but I didn't get out much. Mother did not like taking me shopping, father was too tired to take me anywhere if he wanted to, and so my entire world was compounded into my house, back yard, and on special occasions the cul-de-sac. This meant that I had no idea how to navigate the rest of the village. I didn't know where anything was, where anyone lived, I didn't really care when I was sprinting down the street.
Hey, I never claimed to think things through.
Somehow in my run I ended up at a large park, green grass as far as could be seen and a swing set off to the side. It was just like the parks I used to go to Before, excluding the multitude of trees that surround and cut through it. I wasn't the only child there, though it appeared I was the only one just arriving. Most were busy finishing games, parents watching with weary eyes from benches on all sides and the cement pathway that wound through the grass.
It was the swings I made my way to, avoiding rushing games of tag and hoping over ill hidden hide-and-seekers. There was only one other person seated on the swings, a head of spiky blond hair bowed. I caught bright eyes staring out from under bangs, and a scan of the parents around revealed that most eyes were either directly on the boy or pointed directly away.
For a brief moment my feet tried to lead me away, to follow my peers (however unknown they were) in social ostracization of the boy. That urge was quickly crushed and I made my way to the swings, plopping down in the one next to the little boy. His head snapped up, blue eyes locking on me. I didn't look back, instead focusing on getting the swing moving.
This was the first time my new body had been in on, and it was unused to attempting to get it moving. Lucky for me swings were my favorite thing in the world in my last childhood, so memory trumped physical experience and I started swinging steadily, back and forth. The seat itself was wood, which was weird, the ties actual rope instead of chain.
I pumped my legs and flung my back back, steadily growing higher and passing the familiar little boy, still staring. Once I wasn't in danger of loosing altitude if I paused I turned my head to look at him, black hair whipping into my eyes.
"How come you aren't swinging?" I asked, and felt my heart hurt at the surprise he displayed at being addressed. He lowered his eyes quickly, looking almost shy. I had to fight not to jump off and hug him right then. Adorable boy.
"I, um, I dunno how," he mumbled. I really did jump off then, horrified at the revelation. Jump is a bad word, I actually hit the ground and ran forwards to avoid hitting the dirt worn down by years of children's feet. I spun on my heel and marched right over to the little blond, who was staring with wide eyes.
"I'll push you," I declared, leaving no room for argument as I walked behind him. He tried to turn to watch me but I shook my head. "Face forwards or you'll fall."
He quickly did and I grabbed the ropes, using all the strength in my three year old arms to haul his swing back and let go. He swung forwards before coming back, and I gave him a hard push that almost sent him out of his seat.
"Hey!" he yelped, sounding a little bit frightened.
"Just hold on and don't let your back move," I instructed. When I pushed him the next time he had braced himself and it worked much better than the previous attempt. I kept going, getting him higher until I was jumping up to get to his back and riding his shoulders down.
Eventually he forgot his grip, and when next I tried to rise with his shoulders the both of us were sent tumbling to the ground, him on top of me with an elbow in my gut. He yelped, I choked and when I tried to pull back the swing hit my head.
Unwanted tears sprung to my eyes and I sat back, gripping my head. Frustration curled in my stomach, more from the tears themselves instead of the sharp pain in my head. Crying over such a small thing was stupid and useless, I knew that which only made it worse.
My companion started panicking, frantically apologizing and begging me not to die or go away, crying now himself and proclaiming how sorry he was.
I sat back, eyes still stinging and tears slipping out. My hand hit the top of his head without painful force and he looked up, lips quivering. Two three year olds in a panicked crying mess, sitting under a jerking swing while parents started dragging their children away, whispering and glaring at the boy in front of me. My lips curled into a smile and I patted his head.
"Don't worry, I'm okay. It just hurt is all," I explained, and he started to calm. My head still hurt but I was going to be fine, it was the adult knowledge that a child's skull is more unsealed sutures than actual bone, and that I wouldn't have permanent damage that helped me end my tears a few moments later, wiping them away with the back of my sleeve.
His mouth opened to say something, but before he could I jerked and a set up feet appeared beside us. My head snapped up to find a mask, a second appearing beside the first. Little fox boy didn't seem horribly surprised, scrambling to his feet while I stared wide eyed up at the two familiar masks. I pointed to the Hound, silver hair spiking wildly.
"You're the static man!" I proclaimed, getting no actual reaction. I could feel who it was even if I couldn't see him, or if I hadn't known who he was beforehand. He felt like electricity, like the static that tugs the hair on your arms up when you dragged your socks across carpet, or when lightning was about to strike and the energy charged the air. That was him, his energy larger than my fathers, leagues outside of my mother, and myself as well.
The Cat, I think it was supposed to be a cat anyways, with more color in his mask, tilted his head in silent question. I knew who he was, and filed away the feel of him for later. It's difficult to explain in words, but he felt like standing in the middle of trees, dwarfing you and towering high above your head. The feeling of possibility, and life.
The ANBU said nothing, but with a flick of the wrist the blond boy walked over to Hounds side, looking at me.
"Um, I need to go," he stated, looking so sad it broke my heart.
I gave him a grin. "That's okay. We'll play again some other tie!" I decided then that I would stick with this boy, whether my parents allowed it or not.
Blue eyes grew wide before a smile brighter than the sun spread across his face. "Yeah! We can play ninja then!" seeming to realize that I might not want to play ninja he backtracked. "If you wanna, I mean."
"Of course I do. Ninja are awesome," I stated, and watched the boy node sagely in agreement. "I don't actually know your name," I realized, and stepped forwards to shove my hand in front of his face. "I'm Asuka Suzuki. Who're you?"
That seemed to give him pause, as if he didn't want to tell me. Thinking about it I didn't blame him for not wishing to disclose such information. At last he took my hand. "I'm Naruto, Naruto Uzumaki."
His voice a mumble but I made no move to get away, displayed no surprise. "Naruto," I repeated. "Okay, my first friends name is Naruto!''
"We're friends now?" he squeaked, looking terribly hopeful. It hurt my heart.
"Of course we are!" my smile did not falter, and his face glowed with happiness. He left with the two ANBU, a skip in his step, radiating joy. It made my chest warm to know that I had caused it, and I waited until he was gone before I turned around to go home.
The problem was, I had no idea where home was.
"…shit."
I spent almost three hours wandering around the village, struggling to find something that looked like it might have been close to my home. I didn't find anything, and it was starting to frighten me. On the up side as night fell I had a lot to think about. About the future, and other reasons to be a ninja aside from my own selfish desire to make it in this world. I wanted to keep that little boy smiling, forever if I could, a goal that I could not achieve if I was bound by the limitations of a civilian.
The stars shone above my head and I came to a stop in the empty street, looking up to meet the stone gaze of four hokage. To protect my friends smile, to protect my own life, I needed to be stronger, faster, more than what I was then.
My eyes slid further up, past the rock and to the clear, inky blackness that was pierced with lights. If I wanted to touch the stars I would have to learn to fly. To leave the ground. To become something better than what I was then, and what I had been before.
My hand curled into a first and I started walking, aiming for the ninja's tower to get someone to take me home. I knew what I had to do, and in the shadows of the night I made my decision, vowed to myself to join and surpass my father.
What do you do when your life depends on becoming a ninja and you can't?
You do it anyways.
Determination gives you the resolve to keep going in spite of the roadblocks that lay before you. -Denis Waitley
