Title: Disadvantaged Children (formerly UnWanted)
Rating: T
Summary: Uchiha Mansion is the last place for criminally and emotionally unstable orphans to prove their worth. Naruto finds himself caught in entangling situations with the owner of the Mansion, Uchiha Sasuke, and with his fellow teammates and friends. In the process of healing from his horrific past, Uzumaki Naruto discovers that he may not be the only disadvantaged child to deserve a second chance.
Chapter Two
Sick
"What do you think would happen if we ran away?"
"They'd probably feed us rats for dinner."
"No, I'm serious. Would they catch us?"
"Does it matter? No matter where we are, we'll always have each other."
Kyuubi Island started from locals hearing tales of bloody carnage and anguished screams from an island not far off from where they lived. From there, the story escalated until the Island had enough infamy to become an old folk tale used to scare little kids. The Kyuubi part of the name, however, had no clear explanation. Even to this day, no one can quite understand why the Island is associated with a legendary beast.
I knew why, though.
I don't remember my parents or my first home, but I can remember the smells of anesthetics and the sounds of blurred voices. The sterile room became a prison the day a group of scientists injected a foreign substance into my body. I escaped the Island only by bloodshed and by pure instincts. For the rest of my life, I would become a container for Kyuubi 1403Z.
It's not that I don't know about Kyuubi. But, on some days, I prefer to shove these memories into the back of my mind, where they lurk constantly, waiting for the first hint of weakness. Especially now, in a cramped airplane where I'm sitting sit face-to-face with Iruka. I'm so exhausted, and gravity pulls my face down into a yawn. Ignoring Iruka's look of concern, I force myself to shake my head and dispel the queasy fluttering in my stomach.
"So, Naruto, is it ok if I ask you a few questions?"
Even though I'd been clear about the fact that I didn't want to talk to a social worker, eight hours on a plane had been too boring to pass by myself. He was good at keeping himself, and me, admittedly, amused. He shot questions like gunshots, forceful but patient. On the other hand, his constant cheerfulness was irate and gave me the opportunity to make fun of him. Of course, the most that came out of my mouth were monosyllable words and grunts, but it was far more than the silence that most of my other counselors managed to weasel out of me.
I sigh and rub my face with both hands, before looking out the tiny airplane window. "No. You've already asked me a bunch. Just go to sleep already, old man."
"Oh, Naruto! Why so much animosity towards someone like me?"
He suddenly sighs, as if remembering something from his past. "The funny thing is that I probably would have answered a nosy question in the exact same way. Of course, that was some odd years ago, long before you were even born."
That was interesting. Counselors never offered information about themselves. Most of them preferred to talk about their patients and do their best to psycho-analyze. It was almost refreshing to have someone like Iruka offer themselves up for bait. In a strange way, I feel sorry for the poor guy. After all, I was hardly the best company to be trapped on an airplane with.
I finally relent and fake interest. "Really? You don't seem like someone who'd talk back to authority."
"Oh, you think you're so tough? You should have met me ten years ago." A gleam appears in Iruka's eyes and I back away from the manic expression on his face. "I didn't just talk back to my elders. I practically spit in the face of higher authority."
My deadpan voice echoes through the silent airplane. "Wow. Rebellious."
Iruka ignores me and goes on in a serious tone of voice. "I've met so many teenagers who think that counselors are a waste of time and that they can't possibly empathize with their problems. What they don't know..."
He ruffles my hair and I growl and shove him away. Unfazed, he continues. "What you don't know is that I want to help because I know how it feels to be alone. And if I can survive it, so can you."
Something twinges in my stomach, but I blame it on the fact that it's starting to rain outside and the plane is undergoing more turbulence. "Do you know how many counselors have told me that shit? And how many have turned their backs on a dirty orphan because of a pay raise?"
I shake my head and conclude. "You'll never understand what it means to be alone."
"Naruto, I wish you would listen for once, instead of sticking to your beliefs. I know orphans will never get the sincere empathy that they need, but trust me when I say that I understand what you're going through."
I snort and wince when I see lightning crashing in the background. "How can I trust you when I've only known you for a day? You're asking me for the impossible."
Iruka stays silent after my outburst, and it's only fitting that the plane's rocking from the steadily increasing thunder and lightning. I keep staring at the window, doing my best to keep in the emotions that are roaring as tumultuously as the weather outside. Everything he had said so far seemed sincere, but it was impossible. As far as I was concerned, I had stopped trusting the day trust proved to be a weapon that could be used against me.
A bolt of lightning. Iruka's words. "It'll be hard, but I can teach you. We can teach you."
I sigh and close my eyes, trying to ward off hope. "I think it's you who doesn't understand. I don't want your help and I never will. The only possible thing that could help me at this point is if you shut the hell up and leave me alone."
Iruka's eyes hurt to look at, because they reflect pain that is a reminder of my words. I've chipped his armor. I fire a glare at him, but it's difficult to ignore a man who's taken the time to care.
Trying to wave off the guilt at seeing the sad, brown eyes, I casually stretch, grinning because it's the only thing I can do. "Oh cheer up, old man. I'm incorrigible, remember? Haven't you read my file at all? People say I'll end up at the Island, but I know I won't. Isn't that enough for you? Why try to help when it's clear that I don't want your help?"
I finish stretching and put my hands behind my back. The rain is the only sound that permeates the airplane and that loud pitter patter stays in my heart, beating a steady rhythm of simple noises. I wanted this. Only silence and myself. How comfortable we were with each other.
"It's this Gaara person, isn't it? Is he the reason that you refuse to trust anyone else except yourself? "
Everything's off. The queasy feelings, the scattered lightning bolts, the sway of the plane. Echoes haunt me, exactly like the voice of a name I haven't heard in four years. Gaara. A trigger's gone off. Can it stop?
I can feel Iruka studying my every move, but I can't for fear that I'll never stop. How could he..?
It wasn't about Gaara. No, everything had to do with him. No, nothing, nothing at all. His name was dead to me, he was dead to me. That was all I needed to understand to survive. I had to forget the past. No, remember the past, incorporating it into the future. I couldn't do that, though, because that would mean cutting myself into a million pieces, each one scattering to find Gaara.
No, no, no.
Suddenly, silence is replaced with whispers of Gaara's name. Iruka's soaking pity and the shadows swallow the crowded plane, leaving me with nothing except that hopelessness, the desperation. How could my counselor have done this to me? Didn't he know the impact that one little name could have on me?
I see the concern on his face, but it feels so fake. Suddenly, I have an urge to get off this airplane, or to stand and wipe off the concern on Iruka's face with my fist. Traitor. Why hadn't I followed my instincts? No one cared about me, because I had pushed everyone away so long ago.. In the end, this social worker was only out to hurt. They all were.
I think Iruka has finally understood the gravity of his decision to mention a name, it's just a name, that had killed everything within me years ago. He looks surprised that my face has changed from one of nonchalance to one of biting pain. Twisting my face away from his, I bite my lip to avoid showing a weakness that he could exploit in the future.
A weakness. I had tried so hard to forget but one little slip and the heart started following a different, broken path. How could I still feel this strongly over something that had happened so long ago? It contradicted all reason but managed to settle too comfortably within my heart. I couldn't breathe. I had forgotten.
Thunder crashes and I jump, upsetting my already unsteady equilibrium. If such a weakness was still inside me, burrowing its claws into my skin, tendons, lungs, then I didn't deserve to live. I had failed myself by letting emotions affect me, even though it had been four, four years... What was I even doing here, drinking in the pain, the hatred?
"Naruto-"
I hastily, hands shaking and hair in my face, unbuckle my seat belt and falter out of my seat. The lights in the airplane are flickering and the plane is swinging at an odd angle, but I can't notice these things when I'm in such close proximity to a stranger who can cut my defenses and leave me naked.
Weak.
I point at Iruka and hiss, eyes narrowing. "Look what you've done. You say you want to help, but you're just like the rest of them."
"Naruto, come back he-"
"Shut up! Just shut up!"
I run with the desire to put distance between me and Iruka. He didn't know, no one knew, but it still hurt. It always did.
Kyuubi. I couldn't act unstable, because stability was the only thing that kept Kyuubi in. Why didn't anyone understand this? I head for the back of the plane, almost blind in my attempt to fly and free myself from the entangling links between me and the devil. What if I jumped off the plane and claimed a fit of insanity? Would the winds carry me farther than running could, would the air heal the blood boiling under my skin, would I live? I'm itching inside, trying to keep emotions inside but failing because of that name, that fucking name.
I sense Iruka following me so I stumble more quickly towards the back, looking, hunting for a weapon to ease my fears. Hurting myself would keep Kyuubi away.
It wants to get out. It's been so long.
The flight attendant is blissfully absent from the station and I open drawers, knocking aside juice cartons and boxes of food. I had no real plan, except to control the beast inside of me. I was so close to getting shipped to the Island, and I couldn't let that happen. I had enough control, I just had to. I whirl around at an inhumane speed when I see a glint in the corner of my eye.
There it is.
I grasp the knife and bend over the counter, my hands shaking. This scene is so familiar that I'm hurtled through memories that break under each touch, under each gaze. But I have to be quick, because I can't lose this race – the price would be death. I'm shaking uncontrollably from this practiced rage. I can do this do this. It was just one cut over that one same vein. I had years of practice under my nails, so I could do it. I had to do it, because I needed this control.
But I keep hearing that same name over and over and over again, and it's messing with my head. The knife falters above my skin, and I suddenly realize that I can't do it. I don't want to, because the memories bring, ring, sing that name. Over and over again.
Gaara
Gaara
Naruto
Gaara
Naruto
"NARUTO!"
And a blurry mass tumbles into me, knocking the knife out of my hands. The physical contact surprises me so much that Kyuubi stops his creep towards consciousness. I stop, too, not even reaching out towards the knife or fighting back.
I sense no harmful intentions in the person with his arms around me. I hear no malicious words coming from the person who is rocking me, murmuring regret and quiet comfort.
"I'm sorry. Naruto, I'm so sorry."
I feel nothing except Kyuubi retreating back into the dark dungeons in my mind, leaving behind an empty human allowing himself, for the moment, to take comfort in the arms of care.
Some of the people I had known left me for thing like money, drugs, and power. But the people I held close to my heart, the people who had access to all of my thoughts, dreams, emotions, eventually left because they wanted to. They left, because they couldn't handle who I was or who they were.
They left because they could.
I'd watch their backs, each one disappearing until the darkness swallowed them whole. I had waved good bye to the first one, stared sullenly at the second figure, and eventually turned my own back away from the last one. In the very end, I had caused my own loneliness. I hadn't always been this way. I had been Uzumaki Naruto, a brave little boy who could never kill of his emotions like the orphans around him. Sure, I got bruises and spent my life in perpetual loneliness, but I had myself and that was what mattered. Even if I was shunned because of Kyuubi, I spent my days laughing and smiling.
Until I met Gaara of the Sand.
I abruptly jolt as the car halts. Eyes narrowed, I climb out of the car after Iruka, only to grasp the car hood for support when I'm greeted with the enormous sight in front of me. The house, which I take to be the Mansion, takes up thousands of square feet and is five stories high, with room windows overlooking every corner. The white grandeur and intricately carved designs on the house, itself, add an impressive and antique touch that makes the home seem warm and cheerful. Water is spouting from spigots placed every five feet from each other and the house doesn't stop as it stretches onto an expansive landscape besides it.
I squint and notice how the Mansion, no matter how impressive it is, is truly in the middle of nowhere. Huge trees almost dwarf the sides of the mansion, and the huge forests on either side of the mansion almost intimidate me. Who would want to run from a prison straight into a forest?
It's nothing like before.
Iruka looks at my shocked face and chuckles softly. "It's amazing, isn't it? Sasuke has devoted his entire life to helping people get their life back together and I would hate to see that go to waste. Especially on you, Naruto."
I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes and keep surveying the acres and acres of land. Tennis courts and swimming pools snake around the Mansion and just the sheer amount of money in the place overwhelms me. But I have to get a grip on myself and judge past the exterior.
I sneer, trying to shake off the awe that's building inside of me. "How did he do this? I bet his father is a fat, balding, rich tycoon. Just like him."
Iruka thwaps the side of my face and I glare at him, rubbing the bruise. The image of a short and fat man with tiny squinty eyes and big lips pops into my head and I grudge a grin. How sweet life would be if Uchiha Sasuke was disgustingly unattractive.
"Uzumaki! Pay attention! I can see that scheming look on your face and I'm going to warn you up front. Do not be a fool and mess with Uchiha Sasuke. If you displease him, he will send your smirking ass out of the Mansion."
"I'm not smirking," I lie while smirking.
Iruka puffs up his cheeks and starts lecturing me about Uchiha Mansion. "I really think you'll like it here. Uchiha Mansion, itself, is extraordinarily unique in handling its.. well, admittedly, extraordinarily unique inhabitants. It's a privilege to be in Uchiha Mansion instead of suffering in a high-detention center for young adults."
"Like the Island." I interject.
"Yes." He says curtly. He continues, while leading me around the front of the mansion. "You were given a chance between prison and the Uchiha Mansion. But I don't think you comprehend how lucky you are to enter the Mansion's prestigious and incredibly effective reforming program. Even though only the most hardened juvenile delinquents are qualified to stay, Sasuke hand picks who gets to stay and who gets to leave. So the total sum of orphans comes down to around fifty adults, teenagers, and children."
We stop in front of a gushing fountain that's at least thirty feet high. I run my hands through the water, listening only half-heartedly to the information coming from Iruka.
"There are four different dorms and you'll have the most interaction with the people in your own group. The Leaf Dorm is for newly arrived orphans, the Sand Dorm is for teenagers who have stayed for quite a while in the mansion, the Sound Dorm is inhabited mostly by coming of age adults, and the Mist Dorm is chiefly for 18 and over residents. Each dorm has about twelve to fifteen people who will all attend group meetings together. There are also recreational acti-"
"Can I go now?"
"NO! I'm not done yet."
I shift, impatiently tapping my left foot. I didn't care about the Mansion, because in the back of my head, I was already making plans to escape. It was easy to escape, even if there were trees scattered everywhere. Iruka's still blabbering, so I finally decide that if I have to listen to him yammer on and on, I might as well get to the good stuff.
"Tell me more about Sasuke."
"Sasuke-san." Iruka automatically corrects me. "I don't care how long you've been living in the States. In Konoha, we appreciate respect."
"Whatever." I say in the Konoha language, just to remind Iruka that I was purposefully leaving out the endings. Why would I care about showing respect to some old geezer?
"Well, Sasuke-san is a very wealthy businessman who has always had a dream of helping those in need. I've never pried and asked about his reasons so I expect you to respect his privacy in the same manner. He's normally very reclusive, but I can tell that he cares about Uchiha Mansion. Some say that the Mansion is his life and that he'd die for it."
I scornfully mock Iruka's passionate speech.
"Of course he'd die for it. Look at the money he's spent on it. Besides, the bigger question is whether he would die for the people living in the Mansion. Which he wouldn't, because he's a fat, stupid, slobbering, old son of a-"
I stop when Iruka starts laughing out loud. I wait for a minute then start swearing when Iruka actually bends over slaps his knees. Iruka finally chokes down the laughter and wipes the tears from his eyes. "Oh, Naruto! What have I said about these preconceived notions of yours? You baka."
I dodge Iruka's headlock, scowling when he starts laughing again.
"Uchiha Sasuke is not HAHAHA fat or old or stupid.." He wheezes, and I find a grim satisfaction in seeing him choke on his laughter. "And slobbering! Oh, just the visual image is killing me."
I grind my teeth and count to ten in my head. "What is so fucking funny?"
"Uchiha Sasuke is around your age."
"What?!"
"And he's very intelligent. I believe that's how he became such a successful businessman, although you could hardly tell from his attire. Yessir, he is one genius and he loves a challenge." Iruka looks thoughtful and gives me a hard stare. "I suspect that he'll take a great interest in you."
"Sounds like a creep. I bet he's balding."
Iruka just takes one look at me and then bursts into laughter again.
I have no time for this.
Shoving my mistakes away, I turn from Iruka. The entrance to the mansion consists of two huge oak double doors with stained windows. Ignoring the scenery, I start memorizing the entire layout of the house, taking careful note of the security guards and the gates. Iruka, on the other hand, is wiping away the tears in his eyes, trying to compose himself.
"Now, where was I? Oh yes, the recreational activities are quite challenging. You'll find that-"
"What are they doing right now?"
He frowns at my bluntness. "What?"
"The activities. What are they doing?"
Iruka massages the back of his neck, slowly speaking.
"There's a group meeting at this very moment. I hope you're not-"
I don't hear the rest because I'm already headed towards the twin oak doors, planning out my grand entrance. It was time to uphold my reputation by satisfying the people who had ready my extraordinary file. I had already composed my plan during the airplane flight. I would enter the Mansion, intimidate the residents, then sit back until I got kicked out for some stupid thing. It was simple. Quick.
Uchiha Mansion would see the true Uzumaki Naruto's colors shine. People already believed I was a monster. By maintaining a cold and aloof demeanor, I would just satisfy their thirst to see something terrifying in a child. Of course, no one ever took the time to ask themselves who, exactly, was satisfying their curiosity.
I stop in front of the doors, frowning when my eyes wander down the stained windows painstakingly embellished on the oak doors. I must look stupid to anyone passing by, but I can't turn my head away from the way the strikingly beautiful angles and dark imprints that screams magnificence.
If it's any time to be religious, it's now Naruto. I think to myself with a bitter smile. Seeing as how God's going to hate you after this.
I hear Iruka literally stomping down and yelling my name, so I shake my head, take a breath, and rush in, headfirst. I don't bother to open my eyes or turn the knob. The smattering of glass cutting against my cheek, the air rushing through my body, and the familiar taste of blood in my mouth all tell me the same story. The doors fly away from my quivering muscles and I cockily smirk. I've forgotten how much I've been looking forward to this.
I broke the doors and I enjoyed it.
Kyuubi laughs with me and I keep my eyes shut, feeling the energy and unbelievable anger slowly come back to the confines of my mind. The demon had helped me break the doors, but I try not to dwell on the reasons. In fact, I often tried not to empathize, share, or learn Kyuubi's mindset.
For obvious reasons.
Thinking about Kyuubi reminds me about the horrendous incident on the plane and how Iruka had stayed with me during the entire flight. I know I should be more worried about Iruka's perception of me, but thinking about the airplane drains my blood and nauseates me. Gaara
The name hums and whispers in my ear. I dig a hand through my hair, not even wincing when fingernails meet scalp. I couldn't remind myself of that empty word, now here, not now. Remembering my situation, I open my eyes, expecting some shocked faces and disgruntled social workers in a meeting.
Instead, I see a lone table with a bouquet of roses in the middle. I look around to see if anyone, anyone is in the grand living room with me, but I'm alone. The mist from the wreckage I've created from shattering the windows is finally clearing up, but it's only darkness that greets my eyes. And those roses. I take halting steps towards the table, ready for a trap or parasites inside the flowers. Panic, the same panic that's helped me survive through knives, guns, and the streets, takes my throat when I see a slip of white paper inside the roses.
It's a note.
Naruto-
I've heard of your penchant for remarkable entrances. I apologize for the lack of people to greet you, but I didn't want to unduly upset them. You understand, of course.
Welcome to Uchiha Mansion. I look forward to meeting you.
-Sasuke
It was a cold note. To anyone else, this would have seemed polite. Clever. But for someone who had undergone subtle threats, intimidation techniques, and the drenching loneliness, this note.. This welcome greeting... It was fake. He was fake. Everything I hated about being an orphan, about living alone with the hope of betrayal, about adopting a persona that had kept me alive... It was all here in written form on a white piece of paper. Five short sentences.
I hate him. The blood inside my head boils with a heat that releases and pours into the floor. Seventeen years of pain and suffering collide to inhabit every single inch of my body.
Then I make the mistake of turning towards the sun and looking down at the broken window, every shard seemingly dipped in rose-colored blood and purity.
I break. And watch the petals scatter and fall.
I saw the whole thing
I feel that I should hate this boy who is so intent on wrecking lives, but I can't. I have a job and my hatred can be used for better things.
But that doesn't mean I can't savor a challenge
Uchiha Sasuke
AN: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter of DA.
This chapter used to be a good 6000 words, but I cut it down to around 4000. I'm very proud of myself. Haha, I'm so weird.
