Title: Disadvantaged Children (formerly UnWanted)
Rating: T, R for later chapters
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 Three

Ready

"UZUMAKI NARUTO!! I WILL KILL YOU. NO, I WILL CASTRATE YOU!! NO, WAIT, FIRST I'M GOING TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE."

It's safe to say that I hear Iruka before I see him, and it's not long before he's charging up the stairs, smoke coming out of his nostrils. "How could you do this? Look at the damage! Those stained windows on the door that YOU broke were made from love. For Uchiha Sasuke. From his father. ARGH. I'll kill y-Are you even listening to me?!"

His words don't process through my head, because I'm too immersed in the damage that I've caused. There's a silence as Iruka finally notices my frozen body.

His hand touches my shoulder. "Naruto?"

As if waking from a dream, I whirl around, a snarl etched in my face. Iruka backs away from me, a glimmer of fear in his eyes. Seeing that fear makes the beast inside of me quail and flee from the sight of human eyes.

A little sheepish, I scratch my head. Damn Kyuubi. "Heh. So. That didn't work too well."

Iruka pins me down with a suspicious look, but I innocently shrug. He finally shakes his head, attention back to the shattered glass on the cold, hard floor. "Impressive. Not only did you tear the doors from their hinges, but you also threw them a good five feet away from their original location. Excuse my judgments, but you don't seem to have the build to even squash a bug, let alone wooden doors."

I silently curse myself for showing off as Iruka waits for an explanation. Time for oblivious Naruto. Making sure that Iruka's watching me, I bite my lip and widen my eyes, making me look like an innocent kid caught with five slices of cake in his hand. "I guess... I just don't know my own strength sometimes. You know. Sometimes I just black out and..."

I trail off, letting Iruka fill in the blanks. A sneer touches the corner of my lips as Iruka hurriedly waves his hands. "Okay, okay. I don't believe a word you're saying, but I can tell you've had a difficult day."

There's a pause as Iruka's gaze sweeps over the roses. "I see you've met Uchiha Sasuke." His voice is soft, almost like he's trying to temper the hatred that's flowing through me like liquid.

With clenched fists and a trembling jaw, I look away from the shattered windows and the shattered petals. "I hate him."

Instead of scolding me, Iruka just chuckles and bends down to pick up the scattered roses. "I'm not surprised. You two are polar opposites."

He stops then looks at me thoughtfully. "Sasuke must have a bigger interest in you than I thought, to have gone through the trouble of arranging this welcome. I know first impressions are crucial for adolescents like you, but don't hate Sasuke-san."

"Ha. Fat chance, old man."

Iruka sighs then cups his hand over mine. "Put out your hands."

I do what he says and he drops the silky rose petals over my palms. I make a face at the tingling feeling and Iruka sighs again.

As each rose petal falls into my hands, I'm reminded of things that I've unwittingly shared with this strange caretaker. He hadn't abandoned me, even in situations when other social workers would have quailed. It.. It was rare, to say in the least, for someone to attempt conversation with an orphan who carried a name like mine. Yet Iruka had done this and more. His frequent touches seemed to calm me, as well as the care that showed in his arms. He had even held me in his arms without comment or judgments.

If everyone at the Mansion was like Iruka..

Doubt veils my eyes and I stubbornly shove away all thoughts of hope. Second chances were over and done with. Especially for me. But I can't leave things unsaid. Without knowing why, I face the ground and whisper.

"Thank you."

I'm pretty sure that Iruka knows exactly what I'm talking about when he smiles and cheerfully responds. "You're welcome."

The touching moment passes when Iruka suddenly puts me in a successful headlock. I can hear his whistling before it even starts, and I claw at him, struggling to squash all heartwarming feelings.

"Let go of me, you fucking pervert!"

Iruka doesn't respond too well with my last word and he digs his knuckles into my hair, leaving me flailing. "Oh, Naruto. You're going to love it here."


"His name is Uzumaki Naruto. He was scheduled to arrive here earlier, and the broken window in the entrance is his doing. I expect him to pay full remuneration and punishment. However, he was under some considerable stress when the whole thing happened, and I take full responsibility, should Sasuke-san choose to take disciplinary action."

"Okay, I see. And you are?"

"Iruka. Naruto's group counselor."

"Ok, Iruka-san! That should be no problem, as long as Naruto is genuinely sorry."

The lady behind the counter is young, attractive, and smiles like every day really is a great day. She doesn't even give me a disgruntled once-over when she glance at me for my confirmation..

I charmingly tilt my head in an angle to shade my face in mock embarrassment. "I really don't know what got over me. I was just so excited to meet my new friends and I guess.." I shrug and shake my head. "Anyway, I'm really sorry that had to happen."

My charming exterior causes Iruka to peer at me with owlish eyes. He didn't need to bother, considering that my manipulative side only went so far. Half of all lies were truth, after all. Fortunately, Iruka's attention on me is diverted when the smiling lady behind the counter takes out a manila folder. I automatically tense, wondering if she's about to read my file, but instead she takes out a sheet of paper and reads.

"Uzumaki Naruto, is it? I see you really are a late starter. You were supposed to arrive earlier in the week! Anyway, your room number is P43 and your roommate is Sai." She stops and frowns, then digs through more paper. "I can't seem to find his last name, but I guess that'll be your job! And here's your room key."

She perkily hands me a key engraved with a P43 and a symbol of a leaf. Iruka leans over and exclaims in excitement. "Naruto! You're in the Leaf dorm! That means everyone in your dorm will be new, so it'll be easier to make friends."

A twinkle shines in Iruka's eyes and he clasps his hands and exclaims, "I'll get to witness you make new friends who will embark with you on your new journey to recovery! And with these new acquaintances come fuzzy feelings and a million smiles!"

I stare at him.

His face shifts from achingly ecstatic to annoyed when he sees my face. He coughs and turns towards the lady. "Is there anything else Naruto should know?"

"Well, Naruto, you're in Team 7 with Haruno Sakura and your roommate, Sai. As a general rule, we like to put team members in the same rooms, but since one of your team members is a girl, she'll just be in the room next to yours. Oh and your team counselor is Kakashi Hatake, who should be coming up to greet you."

The lady winks and gestures to a seat. I plop down, legs sore from standing, and observe the room that we're in. The walls are clean and a marbly white, while the furniture provides a comfortable warmth. It was completely different from the run-down and old orphanages that I was used to.

Iruka beside me shuffles and we both stare at the door, waiting for my new counselor.

Ten seconds stretch into ten minutes and ten minutes stretch into thirty. By the time the clock ticks 12:40, I'm sorely irritated by Kakashi's rudeness. The door opens when the clock ticks 12:45 and I swagger, a feral grin on my face.

Ready or not.

The first thing I see going through the door is a book. Which, in itself, wasn't too surprising or weird. But then I catch a glimpse of the title. Iruka stands up and hurries over to the masked man with chalk-white hair who walked in with the book. He whispers something frantically to Kakashi and points at me then points to the book in Kakashi's hand.

Kakashi doesn't even look perturbed. He mutters something, yawns, then calmly pockets the book in his jacket. Then he whispers something to Iruka that makes the normally calm man go bright red.

What a fucking weird man with a fucking weird book. What the hell kind of unoriginal, sexually charged title was Come Come Paradise? Even I was scarred and I was Uzumaki Naruto.

"Hey!" I storm up to Kakashi and jab him in the throat. "What the hell was up with that? I waited fucking 45 minutes for you, you piece of sh-"

Before I have the chance to finish my sentence, Iruka comes up from behind and clamps a firm hand on my mouth. I muffle the rest of my rant, but manage to shoot glares at the abnormally calm man in front of me.

When I'm done, Iruka lets go of my mouth and shakes his head at my flared nostrils. "Naruto, let's try to keep our voice down, ok? And Kakashi here just has some unique traits like.."

Kakashi interrupts with a low voice that is startlingly pleasant and almost seductive. Too bad I didn't go for enticing older men. "Saving lives. There was an old lady up in a tree and I was helping her down. That's why I was late."

I gape at him. "You can't expect me to believe that. You were reading your sick little book when you walked in!"

He looks thoughtful and a smile curves underneath his mask. "It's a good stress reliever."

My face rips from my disgusted scowl. Yeah. I was scarred.

"Liar."

"Brat."

"Fucker."

"Blondie."

"Pervert!"

Iruka just chuckles and whispers to Kakashi, "He used that one on me too."

I coolly ignore their laughter and exclaim with a cocky smirk. "So, how about that old lady you saved?"

"So how about those windows that Sasuke's dear and deceased father gave to Sasuke that you happened to stumble upon and break?" Kakashi raises an eyebrow and calmly counters.

Dammit. How did he know about that? I look at Iruka but he shakes his head. If a stupid counselor knew about the windows then that probably meant..

Kakashi confirms my thoughts when he goes, "Needless to say, Sasuke wasn't too happy when he found out about your misbehavior."

"I don't care about that bastard. His pink and balding face can go shrivel in hell, for all I care." I scoff, drinking in the hatred that rushes in with ease.

And Kakashi proves that he's not incapable of being calm all the time. His eyes bug out and the mouth underneath his mask twitches. I look over and see Iruka's in the exact same position sans black mask and three, two, one.

"PUAHAHAHA. Can.. you, you imagine Sasuke's face! Pink and balding."

"Like a little Easter egg! You know, Naruto has an almost poetic way with words."

Kakashi laughs and chokes along with Iruka until they lean on each other for support while spouting random words like slobber, egghead, and wig.

"Fucking retards," I mutter under my breath as I watch them collapse with tears in their eyes.

Even if I was rolling my eyes from irritation, I was much more relaxed when they laughed in front of me. In this warm, fuzzy feelings atmosphere, no one was trying to get ahead of me or put me in a drug-induced coma.

It's like all of my beliefs about the system are crashing and falling into a secret place that I want to lock forever. My past is a dull mist that feels out of place in the bright Mansion. My grasp on my reputation is slipping, because I'm finding that the middle of nowhere is perfect for notoriety. Instead of the small strand of stability, I'm finding the whole world, holding its breath for me.

It's almost like I'm waiting for something to believe in.

"Hey, is that a smile on his face?"

"I don't know. It looks like a mix between an ugly pit bulldog and maybe a smirk."

"Kakashi-san!"

"Sorry."

I roll my eyes and walk ahead of them. "Let's go."

Iruka leaves with a teary good-bye that I scoff at. Kakashi fixes me with a murderous stare, but I brush it off with a smirk. My new counselor, then, shoves me into a hallway that holds the occasional sounds of laughter, music, and talking from the different dorm doors. He doesn't speak, so I take the time to judge his silence.

The thing that stands out is his mask. I didn't know why he had it, but it made him seem more intimidating. This was a man who knew how to get his point across, even if the lower half of his face was shrouded in mystery. It was a neat tactic, one that very few could pull off. Of course I was still sorely pissed that he had been forty five minutes late. Not only had he done that, but he had also lied to my face. To think that this counselor would mentor me for the rest of my stay in the Mansion...

I couldn't have respect for someone who obviously had no respect for me.

"Do you know what team you're on, Naruto?"

"Team 7."

"And your group members?"

I grunt. "I don't know."

Kakashi puts a hand on his chin and flicks his eyebrow.

"Being a latecomer, I expect you to familiarize with the Mansion, especially the group aspect. Not knowing your own teammates... Bad start, Uzumaki."

He continues walking and I frown and walk faster to catch up. "What's the deal with putting us in teams? What if we don't get along? Not fucking smart to put a bunch of juvenile murderers in the same room for more than an hour."

"But that's where you're wrong. By forcing you to spend time with two other people, we're also forcing you to live with them and get along with them. By the end of five months, you'll be able to give them something that not a lot of people give freely."

I'm skeptical. It sounded like carefully masked torture. "Really, and what would that be?"

He glances at me momentarily then continues walking.

"Isn't it obvious? Trust."

I halt in my tracks, fists clenching from the dangerous word. "And if I refuse to get along with my team?"

Kakashi smiles. "We kick you out."

Of course.

The Mansion had seemed too good to be true and here was the catch. I growl softly, thinking up plans to be an insufferable team member. Maybe if I got one of my teammates to hate me, I'd get kicked out of their little group. There was no way in hell I'd allow trust into my life.

"Oh and two points off for whatever scheme you're planning."

I can almost hear Kakashi's superiority behind that damn mask.

I give him an icy glare, but he only meets me with a small smile. Every inch of my body wants to stomp like a little kid, but I squash the urge. "And I suppose this fucking point system is designed to kick out the poor sucker with the fewest points?"

"Yup."

"Fuck, just ship me off the Island right now."

"Another two points for mentioning the Island. We prohibit negativity within the walls of Uchiha Mansion."

Great. Four points down the drain. The point system was familiar to me, because some of my past group homes had used it. But corruption had been rampant within the social workers, eventually getting to the point where points were given to the orphans who did certain favors.

Favors that I had indulged in.

I feel a prick of shame, but I brush it aside. I didn't care about my guilty secrets. At an age when I craved intimacy, how could I have turned my back on survival? Back then, no one cared about the fake parenting. If anything, the experience made me a stronger person, a person who knew right from wrong. Besides, it was simple being unwanted.

I grimace as Kakashi starts whistling. "Any other rules I should know about?"

"Use your common sense. No drugs, drinking, activity after curfew, violence, or people in your bed."

He pins me with a knowing look. I feign innocence. He goes on. "I know your past behavior with friends and I'd hope that you've changed that. Uchiha Mansion is a place to change yourself and possibly change others, if you get so lucky. I have no mercy for rulebreakers."

"Says the man who lied about saving a cat."

He has the decency to look offended and ruffles my hair. I duck.

"You'll probably get some attention from the other orphans, being from the States and your different appearance. Please tone down the offensive language, even if most of us speak a different language and won't know what you're talking about."

We've stopped in front of a door that's etched with the recognizable P43 and Kakashi knocks. There's no answer so he shrugs and moves to another area of the building that I take to be the lounge. I can tell it started out as a clean room, but ended up neglected. Trash is thrown all over the place, while a stereo blasts out a mixture of heavy rock and screaming electric guitars. Hackles rising, the threat of confronting conflicts hangs over me, ready to explode with certain memories, demons, emotions.

Kakashi shoves me in and cheerfully waves. "Have fun."

He turns to walk out of the room but I stop him with a cocky yell. "Hey, scarecrow! It wasn't a cat that you saved. It was an old lady. Two points off for lying terribly."

Kakashi looks at me in surprise then calmly chuckles. He walks away and I turn to the lounge, ready to confront the fragility within me.


Orphans aren't any different from normal people.

They want the basic things. They want the comfort of home, they want to say "hello. good bye." without uncertainty. But this is impossible for them. For us. That's when survival comes in and taunts with the ever-present reminder that orphans are different. They were born different.

They were born without the right to anything.

Some orphans shrug into that slimy skin of survival with an ease that reeks of desperation. But they make it. They get two complete strangers to adopt and raise them. They get everything. Love, a chance (a second chance) at normalcy, and the future. They get parents, become parents, and give their own kids parents.

Things didn't work out for me from the very beginning, even though I was born with an attitude that most orphans had: optimism, a little frustration, but overall happiness for the little things. I found joy in the littlest things, because every orphan has to be more hopeful about the future than the average kid. Hardships came and threw themselves at my face, leaving deep scratches but never damaging my smile.

It didn't work. I only received blank stares and cold hearts from potential parents.

Was there milk on my shirt? Was I not smiling enough?

It didn't matter if I tugged at their sleeves or pleaded with my eyes. I was a disease in their eyes. My strange whiskers and feral growls scared away those who could adopt me. You could almost say that I did have a parent. Me. And Kyuubi was my child, leaving me with no time and no worth.

I got chased from group homes, beaten by foster parents, and lived in park benches to streets. When I turned ten, I gave up on hope. The knowledge that I was unwanted left me so damaged that my smile finally faded away. From then on, I acquired a determination that became my only reason to live. My determination was to survive.

But as I'm looking at the scene before me, I see a future that doesn't make sense. I can see myself within the walls of the Mansion, watching the TV or lounging on the sofa. I can see myself laughing. Small things. It's almost like the home itself is trying its best to welcome me into its fold.

But my shoulders still tense when I walk into the lounge. It was instinctive to keep my mind on edge, prepared for any kind of attack. Back then, the innocent orphans had feared me, because they saw themselves within my wild eyes. They'd talk about the blood thirst I possessed, the murders that I committed, the abnormal color my eyes turned. I didn't blame them. This was the price that I paid for survival.

The two boys in the lounge look up when I walk in, but only one of them stands up to talk to me. The other just shrugs his hood back on, enveloped by the shadows.

"You must be the new juvie. Are you Uzumaki Naruto?"

It's said so lazily that I almost forget that this guy has to be as dangerous as I am. His crooked smile and calm face lets my guard down and I reply with a nod. There's no odd silence or judgmental stares. He's not worried about who I am and I suddenly feel the same about him.

It's a while before he speaks and when he does, it's with the breezy confidence of a leader. He was natural; he didn't need to fake or wear a mask to establish who he was. In the scant two seconds that I've known this guy, I experience an incredible envy for his ability to be so comfortable in his own skin.

"I've heard things about you, Naruto. You're from the States, but I know orphans from Konoha who still talk about the day you left the village."

I should be happy that my reputation precedes my worth. Once again, a complete stranger knows my name before I know his. But the Mansion keeps whispering in my ear about worthless relationships and a life with no hope.

I shrug it away and sneer at the guy in front of me, wanting him to judge so I can do the same. "I'll clear up the rumors for you. The police were right. I laughed the entire time. Want anything else before leaving me the hell alone?"

The guy's wild ponytail moves with his head when he shakes it vigorously. He puts up a hand to stop me. "I shouldn't have said it like that. I'm sorry you mistook that for interest. I just wanted to make sure that right now, right here, you know what my stance is on your reputation. I don't care for rumors or what the government says. A person's past doesn't define who he is. I'm not going to judge you. In fact, I refuse to."

"I'm Nara Shikamaru. Welcome to Uchiha Mansion." He looks at me with clear eyes with a small tilt of the head

My surprise must register on my face because Shikamaru makes a noise with his tongue. "Tch. You don't have to believe me. Give or take, we'll spend these next few months together and I'd rather it not be troublesome."

I finally respond, trying to quell the disbelief in the back of my throat. "Everyone I've met has judged me. Hell, everyone will judge you too. You're an idiot if you think people will take kindly to lies."

Shikamaru doesn't look offended. On the contrary, he looks calm and even cheerful. "It's not a lie. It's who I am."

I make a strangled noise and doubt mixes with suspicion. Did this guy even know what he was talking about? I finally choose to shove the issue to the back of my mind, knowing that if all the Uchiha Mansion inhabitants were like this, then I was in for more surprises along the way. I wouldn't let shock overwhelm the present.

"So, if we play your cards, then you probably don't know who I am. I'm Uzumaki Naruto and..."

I hesitate. What could I say? What was real and what was false? Somehow, I didn't think talking about Kyuubi would go over too well with Shikamaru.

Shikamaru smiles easily and finishes for me. "And you have blond hair and blue eyes."

I take a chance by smiling back and nodding. For now, I would forget who I was supposed to be.

"So, what's in this dump?" I jerk my head to the TV and the stereo. "Orphanages and group homes don't normally allow those things in here. Part of the point system?"

Shikamaru nods and he walks towards the corner of the room, where a points chart is located on the wall. "I've accumulated enough points to earn my dorm building some commodities. Sucking up was troublesome, but I figure if I won't do it, then who will?"

I read the points chart, noting the different names. Most of them have the number 100 in front of them except for some (like my name that has the number 96.) I raise an eyebrow at the number in front of Shikamaru's name. 150. I go down the list, coming across names like Rock Lee, Hyuga Hinata, Sai, and a final name. A tremor goes through my spine and I look closer.

Inuzuka Kiba.

I quickly grab Shikamaru's arm, almost clawing him in the process.

"Where is he?"

Shikamaru puts a hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down, but I shrug him off. My hands tremble as they point to the final name on the chart.

"He arrived yesterday. He's told me all about you. What-"

"Where is he?"

I'm torn between screaming Kiba's name and running to a secret place that'll hide me forever. Was I ready to do this? It doesn't matter because the words rip out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"Where the fuck is Inuzuka Kiba?"

And a voice behind me, a voice I had needed, wanted, tasted, answers. The pervasive scent of memories surrounds me, leaving me frantic.

"I'm here, Naruto. Are you ready?"

I turn around and for the first time in four years, meet my dead, best friend.


He goes through personas effortlessly, shifting into defensive, offensive, neutral positions. Even if this strategy is different from my own, I still respect Naruto. He's doesn't believe in faith or trust, but I feel like I know him.

The better question is does he know himself?

Shikamaru


AN: Thank you for reading! I'm so glad you did and I hope you enjoyed it!

SUCCESS. Another revision of the revision leaves me with just under 4500 words. Man, I love murdering my own words.