~xxx
Naruto awoke whilst it was still dark outside his windows. The boy lay there in a mildly contemplative stupor, his thoughts uncharacteristically sluggish. A slight stir in his gut would prove to be his only warning.
Pain- a harsh, acute pain like daggers tearing through flesh erupted inside Naruto's body. He howled as the agony continued to build in his chest, intensifying like something was chewing its way out from within. The blond's cries petered down to a warbling groan as his will to fight the pain dwindled.
Naruto pulled up the front of his shirt with a grunt of effort, his mouth twisted in a rictus of duress.
The emaciated torso of the waif lay bare in the artificial glow of nearby streetlights, heaving and clenching. A variegated line ran up the length of the boy's body, like that of deep scar tissue. It zigzagged along Naruto's belly like the figure of a lightning bolt.
The line began to deepen, then split at Naruto's breast. An involuntary wail slipped from the boy's lips as long, slender claws slid out from the gash in his chest. Gripping either side of his divided ribcage, he grabbed it with either hand and tore it open further. A sickly yellow blur darted out from Naruto's body, narrowly avoiding crashing into nearby furniture.
Naruto couldn't help aiming a lazy kick at the thing as it went by, as useless as it was to try.
"Frickin weasel," the boy said, sighing irritably as he sat up in bed. He followed the critter's movement about his crappy home as it scrounged for food that wasn't there. It moved about on six translucent, rigid legs like would a silverfish or a squirrel. It appeared to have no ears, no nose, no mouth to speak of- just a pair of beady black eyes. If Naruto's own form was any testament, though, it was possible the Weasel was missing nothing.
Of anything, Naruto had wished the thing lacked was its personality. For something with little to no space for brains, it possessed an uncanny understanding of Naruto and its environment, although it lacked any means to communicate besides…
Naruto looked down at his chest, which sat ajar. Riddling his innards were dozens of superficial scratches and contusions, injuries inflicted with "persuasion" in mind. The boy had had it tough in the beginning, not only in the wake of the thing's revelation, but also in figuring out what it wanted.
Even after Naruto had ceased trying to smash it with a frying pan, the Weasel extended a contentious rapport. It boiled down to what the waif had just endured: do a thing or the stabbing will continue. As apt as Naruto was, getting to the level of understanding he had now was quite literally excruciating. Nowadays it was simply grueling.
The boy briefly reflected on what happened the one time he tried to fight back with shuriken. He eyed the asymmetrical puncture holes in the ceiling, one having an all-too-familiar spiny leg sticking out of it. That the creature could fire off those things like a cannon was simply unfair- and that it instantly regrew them was even more than unfair.
A scent tickled at the boy's nose. Inhaling sharply, Naruto's lip curled on instinct. Bowing his head down, he pulled his flesh open like one would a jacket. Giving a tentative sniff, the wastrel tried to recoil from himself, his head snapping back violently. He imbalanced from his position on the bed, managing to crash to the floor despite flailing his limbs. Naruto lay with his top half slumped on the floor, his legs up in the air over his head.
It was definitely time for a wash.
Nimbly reorienting himself, the unwashed ninlet made for the shower without further ado. Naruto tugged his shirt and boxers off, noting that he'd have to wash his clothes once he got back from the orientation. He left them in a heap next to the sink and stepped into the stall, yanking the curtain shut.
Turning the faucet with a snap of his wrist, Naruto still had to wait for the old plumbing to start spraying hot water. Shivering as the nearly blistering droplets contacted his skin, Naruto was still for a moment. He even leaned into the scalding spatter, basking in the sense of being stripped of everything but the bottom layer of skin.
It took no time at all. Even when it came to opening himself up to clean out Naruto's gamey insides, the heat of the shower eased the process.
More than a few seasons ago, Naruto had developed…oddities. The first indications had been the weird markings on his limbs, then his torso. Day by day, these marks deepened- and at some point, began to twitch at random. Once, while washing his face in the sink, Naruto scratched himself with a nail. Said nail was growing out of him palm.
The worst had been when his face had molted. The boy had awakened facedown on his bed. As he picked himself up, he noticed little white cups on his pillow. Upon closer inspection, they turned out to be eyes…blue ones. Naruto had rushed to the shower room, flicking on the light.
In retrospect, this turned out to be a horrible idea- the poor boy cried until he passed out on the apartment floor.
Naruto shook his head in bitter wistfulness, now almost finished cleaning his strange new body. He closed up easily, his innards now fresh as a daisy. He didn't have anything in the way of towels, so Naruto simply got to brushing his teeth, which took half a minute.
Checking his eyebrows, he decided it was time to trim. He got out a small pair of scissors from the cabinet, turning them on the nails framing his brow. The translucent material parted cleanly with each cut, to the boy's satisfaction. Like most parts of his new routine, clipping these new growths had proved awkward…and bloody.
Once finished- and without a single nick this time- Naruto rinsed his face, giving his reflection a nod as he turned to get dressed.
Naruto went over his mental checklist, eyeing the sun as it crept above the horizon. Class was soon. Stowing various supplies on his person, the boy made for the door.
Hearing a low chittering from the ceiling, Naruto spun in place. He threw out his hand to catch the Weasel midflight, its limbs flailing frenetically under his fingers. Relaxing his grip, Naruto winced as the critter pushed its way into his hand, down into the hollow of his arm. Even after much practice with this routine, it still felt weird. Like an injection, except not.
The cool, slimy body of the Weasel quickly warmed within his arm, soon indistinguishable from any other part of Naruto's weird body.
Taking a calming breath, Naruto nodded to himself. He faced his apartment door, the cheap painted wood seeming like the mouth of a giant cave.
Showtime.
~xxx
Halfway to the Academy, Naruto felt a familiar stabbing pain in his chest. It got worse with each step he took, to the point where he couldn't bear it any longer. Staggering into a nearby alley, Naruto tore open his jacket, hiking up his shirt to bare his chest.
Glaring down at the bulge in his torso, the boy eased his body open. When the opening was a barely more than an inch wide, a blue and silver blur ejected from within. With a haphazard swipe, the ninlet managed to grab hold of it.
It turned out to be Naruto's headband, covering in moist…stuff. Evidently his companion didn't care for bunkmates.
The waif wiped his nice new badge on his shirt before fastening it around his neck. The cloth was warm and a little damp, but its touch still made Naruto stand up straighter.
The band was his, after all. Naruto had earned it all by himself.
It gave him a feeling of certainty.
~xxx
Waiting was uneventful. Naruto observed from his usual spot as fresh graduates meandered in. The crowd was a mix of Naruto's classmates, peers from other groups, and some successful throwbacks.
The oldest among them looked like he was trying to grow out some stringy semblance of a beard…looking at the guy made the blond waif itch.
It was an even mix of normal and abnormal people. Plenty of loud brats taking up precious oxygen and everybody else, really.
Noticing movement out of the corner of his eye, Naruto noticed a familiar red outfit. Turning his head, the boy immediately wished he hadn't. The violent girl from the exam had apparently made it through.
Naruto oozed back in his seat in attempt to distance himself as much as possible. He was already all the way in the back, in a corner. Watching the girl crane her neck as if looking for something, Naruto silently wished that he was invisible when she turned in his direction and promptly zeroed in on her kohai. As the girl met the yellow menace's furtive gaze, her eyes narrowed. Naruto felt a cold sweat break out on his neck.
~xxx
Time had passed painfully, Naruto consequently melting in relief when Instructor Umino finally entered. Safe.
A line of nin sidled in behind the tan chunin, a rainbow of eccentricity. So these were jōnin. At least half of them wore something other than the standard uniform. One of them wore some sort of fur cape, another what seemed like diving gear- yet another wore a spandex bodysuit…and seemingly nothing under it.
Naruto was still slumped back in his seat, which made him practically invisible at his size. He was pleasantly surprised, then, when one of the new instructors noticed him. He grinned at the masked man, nodding. The man gave a nod back in response, then turned his attention elsewhere. Similarly, Naruto scanned the rest of the line for nothing in particular, idly listening to the roll call.
When his name came up, the waif's hand arched up, waving lazily. The number of eyes on Naruto grew exponentially within an instant. The rakish grin on the boy's face shrunk a bit, his hand sagging.
"Pu-Present," he managed. The stares of some jōnin lingered even as the roll continued. Naruto felt markedly on edge, even after the last pair of eyes turned away. His anxiety lasted up until his name was called.
"-ruto, Haihachi Tora, Sakurazaki Mifune. Your instructor will be Jōnin Nazabata Keichi. Please come forward."
At that, the diminutive graduate bolted up, startling his neighbors. Naruto quickly trotted down to stand before…a rather bland specimen.
"Keichi" was of average height. He wore the dark uniform of a jōnin and the green chunin vest. He held back his hair with his headband, in the ubiquitous chunin fashion. Apart from his iridescent green eyes, the man was remarkably nondescript.
Naruto recalled reading in one of the texts about pursuing a generic appearance to escape notice in public settings. He could only hope that his new instructor was one who could quote that notion, chapter and verse. Any alternative explanation would prove gruesomely underwhelming.
As soon as his teammates joined Naruto at the front, they left with their boring-looking sensei.
~xxx
What the man leading the team lacked in flamboyance, Naruto's teammates more than made up for.
Tora was the Rookie of the Year. He'd come from a different class, but it was hardly the first time Naruto had heard of him.
Short and sweet, he was a golden boy. He possessed plenty of rough edges, but he always came out of any situation a brighter star than he entered it. Tora was the definition of success in that regard.
One could imagine this left him quite unburdened of humility. Casting a glance at him, Naruto could see Tora carried himself with confidence. He wasn't particularly loud or obnoxious, he just kept his chin up as he walked. More a sunspot than a shadow, to be sure.
The other one, though…
To be kind, Mifune was disruptive. From the moment they'd left the building up until the team had entered the tower of the Hokage, she'd had something to say about everything. Naruto had the sense he was going to go deaf in one ear from the auditory assault.
Like Tora, this wasn't the first time Naruto had heard of her. Or from her.
In the Academy, there was at least one incident before final period. Every other time, it was Mifune.
Who put paint in the instructors desk? Who punched her partner before the spar began? After the spar ended? What kind of monster would glue the practice weapons shed shut? What happened to the last shumai?
There was no real explanation given whenever she was caught, either. It was always "because" or "Why not?" with Mifune. Even Naruto's class would mention her latest disaster as if they were discussing the weather:
"Mifune exploded Genji's desk again"
"Oh yeah- somebody said he needed stitches"
"Genji needs stitches to get up in the morning"
Suffice to say, the girl's antics had earned her a few nicknames. Naruto's personal favorite was "Mifuuma"- on account of how the girl seemed to blow through the Academy like a violent wind.
One might have expected such a vibrant personality to have a similarly vibrant style. To the contrary, Mifune was the type to wear whatever to woke up in. Whereas Naruto had to do it out of simple necessity, the girl was such a tomboy that she even had a boy's sense of…smell.
She tended to dress down, in sleeveless shirts and short pants. Although it was rumored that she attended the Academy barefoot on occasion, Mifune appeared to be wearing the standard blue sandals every nin seemed to wear.
It wasn't like she was a drab kid in appearance, though. Mifune had to be one of the prettier girls Naruto had ever seen. Almond shaped brown eyes, framed by tousled, jet black hair. Her skin was so smooth and flawless despite her living habits, much to the quite vocal envy of her classmates. Although she was barely in her thirteenth year, she seemed to be growing healthily, if the way she filled out her grubby clothes was any indication.
Contrasting Mifune sharply, Tora was immaculate. Naruto felt unclean in his presence, even though the memory of his burning hot shower lingered.
The Rookie of the Year wore simple shinobi garb like finery. Dark blue trousers were contrasted by a sheer red shirt with a high collar. Every inch of him was spotless, even seeming to glow in the mid-morning light. Naruto noted the pair of rings on Tora's hand. If not for the boy's physique, the blond might have assumed he was all show.
Even without a record, Tora was assumed to be a pillar of strength. He'd started late for his age, but more than made up for it with natural instinct. He came into his own the final semester, showcasing an aptitude for hand-to-hand and tactical verse. Watching Tora's gait, Naruto could believe it. The kid moved like a young fighter- all spit and vinegar.
"Name?"
Naruto shook his head free of his internal musings. An older civilian sat behind the desk in front of him.
His gnarled hand poised with a brush pen over a ledger in anticipation. The man's dark eyes bored into Naruto with quiet intent. Even as tired and watery as the gaze was, it didn't waver. Unsurprising, really- Naruto was a stripling of not-even 10 years old.
"Er, Uzumaki Naruto," the waif offered. The civilian ducked his head slightly, marking the boy's name down in scarcely two breaths. He looked up, cocking a weathered brow.
"Age? Time of application?"
Naruto coughed self-consciously before saying "Nine years of age. The third month last year…the twentieth?"
The book-keeper made a noise of assent, his lips pursing.
"Mm~. The young weasel, come again," the man remarked, giving Naruto a casual glance, "Let us hope history doesn't repeat, neh?"
Instructor Keichi scoffed, cocking his head to the side.
"Hardly professional, man," the jōnin said, "it's bad luck, almost for sure."
The grizzled civilian shook his head, a wistful grin spreading across his face.
"Take a joke, boy," the book-keeper said, "You young elites take too much too serious."
The jōnin grunted noncommitally, and the group got on with the rest of the recording.
~xxx
In-Progress Chapter!
It's ongoing, and I'm making modest changes here and there. Hopefully, you'll appreciate me getting to this at *squint* 12AM on Tuesday night.
My initial promise to get `er done in 2018 was a bust. But, then, working 7 days a week tends to do that.
To progress! To more free time!