CHAPTER II: UZUMAKI NARUTO, VILLAGE PARIAH

For as long as Naruto could remember, the people of Konoha hadn't liked him. He didn't know why; nobody seemed ready to explain. They just didn't like him.

The exception to the rule was the Third Hokage. "Old Man," as Naruto liked to call him. Yet, for as wise and as powerful as the Hokage seemed, even he hadn't explained why everyone didn't like him. Naruto hated not knowing. Hated it almost as much as he hated how everyone treated him.

They avoided him. They badmouthed him, gossiping when they thought he couldn't hear. They called him "brat," and kicked him out of their shops. Naruto was no stranger to bullies, but most kids avoided him like he was dirty. Like he was diseased. Honestly, he liked it better when the kids his age spat insults and tried to beat him up. The adults hadn't gotten violent with him, though. Not unless you counted shoving him aside, or out of their shops. Nobody had outright attacked him — though there were a few, terrifying times he felt they would.

It hurt. Sometimes, it hurt so much that Naruto just wanted to scream, to shout, to demand answers. "What did I do wrong!? Why do you hate me!? What can I do better!?"

Worse, though? Worse was the anger. The black, bitter anger that boiled beneath his skin, like a blazing fire of hate-hate-hate was burning in his gut, demanding to be let free. Naruto was ashamed to admit it, but when he felt like that — ? Sometimes, he didn't want to scream. He didn't want to shout. He didn't want answers. He just wanted to hurt them. He didn't know how, he just wanted them to hurt. To suffer. To feel even an ounce of what he felt.

It was scary how much he wanted to hurt them, but he didn't. Well, no. Not really. He was a first-year student at the Ninja Academy of Konoha, and that meant he had to fight. To hurt people. But that was different. A fight was one thing — so what if he sometimes lost his temper? It wasn't like anyone else was pulling their punches.

To hurt people for the sake of hurting them, though?

He didn't want that.

No.

He wanted to walk down the streets and have people smile at him. "Hello, Naruto! How is your day going?"

He wanted to go to the playground and have the other kids run up screaming his name. "Naruto! Naruto! Do you wanna play ninja with us?"

He wanted the Old Man to pat him on the head, to ruffle his hair, and smile bright. "I'm proud of you, son."

That's what Naruto wanted most of all.

Acknowledgement.

Acceptance.

Love.

Of course, Naruto was eight (and two thirds!), and these emotions came and went, as temperamental as a storm.

Right now, Naruto was just annoyed. Annoyed because there were several stores in his neighbourhood which had his picture somewhere inside, probably on some pin-board titled "Banned Permanently." To be fair, some of it was his fault. He had graffitied an entire street some months ago, and the store owners weren't quick to forgive.

Despite that, there were a few stores that still begrudged his presence. His favourite, of course, was Ichiraku. It was a little restaurant run by a father and his daughter, and the one store he wasn't just tolerated but welcomed. They specialised in ramen, and they were one of the best places to get it this side of the Valley of the End. Believe it!

Unfortunately, as the Old Man had told him, he couldn't survive off ramen alone. Not if he wanted to become a proper shinobi. Not if he wanted to become the next Hokage, which Naruto very much did.

So, accepting the wisdom of the closest thing he had to family, Naruto tried his best to have a balanced diet. Oh, he was absolutely going to buy ramen for dinner, though. It was tradition! Every month, on the day he received his payment, he would buy ramen at Ichiraku. It was like clockwork.

But, before he could warm his belly with a beautiful bowl of miso ramen, he needed to get some other bits and pieces. Eggs, fruit, milk, the like. Oh, and oil, too! Maybe some pancake mix?

Damn, I really should've written a list, he thought, pocketing Gama-chan. It was his faithful pet froggy wallet, and it was now positively bursting with money. Without a second thought, he left his pigsty of an apartment and off toward the local Konoha convenience store — the only convenience store in the neighbourhood that would so much as tolerate his presence.

The trip went about as well as usual.

He walked down the streets, everyone avoiding him like the plague, all talking behind his back as if he couldn't hear them. "There's that brat again," they said.

"What's he up to, now?"

"Better not be another prank, I've had enough for a lifetime."

"Can't believe he's still allowed in the village."

Naruto tried to ignore them. Really, he tried! But, like a balloon overfilling with air, he was getting close to his limit. A growl clawed at his throat, and he flashed a glare at the last person to speak: a young woman with curly black hair.

She paled, then flushed, indignant. "Brat," she hissed and quickly scurried away.

A scowl fixed on his face, he hurried up down the street, hoping he'd be too quick to hear any more of the village's bullshit. He only slowed when he arrived at the convenience store.

The clerk, an older man with balding grey hair, looked up from his desk at the chime of the bell by the door and grimaced at the sight of Naruto, straightening but doing nothing more. It was better than being followed around, like he was some kind of sneakthief, but not by much.

There were a few others in the store. Beneath the omnipresent music playing through hidden speakers, he could hear a couple of girls — teenagers; civilians — gossiping loudly somewhere deep inside. An old man was hobbling along with his walker, carrier filled with a selection of goods. Naruto could also spy a family: a little girl with her parents, her face pinched in clear indecision, staring at the confectionaries on display near the mouth of the store.

When her mum spotted Naruto, she pulled her daughter close. "Come along, dear, stay close to me."

"But mum!" the girl cried, scowling up a storm and utterly oblivious to her mother's clear worry. "I still haven't picked a lolly!"

"Do as I say, and I'll buy you two lollies," the mum replied, casting furtive glares at Naruto, as if it was his fault she needed to bribe her own kid.

The dad glanced up from his own perusal, glancing at a shelf filled with magazines. Probably sneaking peeks of those pervy magazines. When he noticed Naruto, he frowned. "Listen to your mother, little one."

Like before, Naruto tried to ignore them. Yet, by now, his skin had turned prickly hot, the familiar anger returning. Mind your own business, you bastards, he wanted to snap, but he didn't. After all, the last thing he wanted was to give the clerk an excuse to kick him out.

So, instead, he drifted into this weird state of quiet anger that felt… distant. Detached. It was almost like he was watching a movie of himself, through his own eyes.

He picked up a carrier and started down the aisles to get what he needed, making sure to avoid the family to the best of his abilities.

For the first few minutes, he lost himself in the mundanity of buying groceries. He glanced down the shelves, casting his eyes for anything that stuck out. When something did, he'd pause, take another look, and check the price tag. If he could afford it, and if he wanted it, he'd throw it in his carrier. If not, it was back to the next thing.

There was a sale going on, and he was happy to get two loaves of bread for the price of one. He had also gotten some pickles, and some more butter, cold-meats, and a few cups of instant ramen (which was the cheapest meal he could get his hands on, so a mainstay by virtue of necessity), and the oil.

It was going well.

And then everything went wrong.

He was in the sixth aisle and found himself in front of a pair of men clogging the path. Both middle aged, one was bald, and the other had a brown top-knot ponytail.

They were browsing the soft-drink section, which was right across from the snacks: chips and the like.

While Naruto would've been fine avoiding the pair, they were also in front of what he wanted: some soft-drink and some snacks. He frowned, shoulders hunching, and shuffled over, trying to squeeze past the pair with a muttered: "Excuse me."

Unfortunately, that was the wrong decision.

"What's this, then?" The bald one had noticed him.

The man with the top-knot spun around, eyes narrowing. "Oi, isn't that — ? What do you think you're doing?"

The man shoved Naruto away, throwing him off balance. He stumbled, trying to catch himself on the aisle shelf. "Hey, what the Hell are you doing?" he wanted to shout, but he barely got halfway through before —

Crash!

A glass bottle of soft-drink shattered across tiled ground.

"Shit," said the bald man.

"Fuck," added the man with the top-knot.

Naruto didn't say anything.

He just stared at the puddle of fizzing liquid, and the shards of glass.

Then, a fourth person joined the chorus. "What the Hell is going on?"

Stamping feet on linoleum floor approached, and soon Naruto was staring at an irritated, then furious clerk.

"You!" he spat at Naruto and marched up to him. "I knew you were trouble! I just knew it!"

"I — I'm sorry!" Whatever lingering irritation vanished as fear shot through his body, freezing him in place. "It was an accident! I swear, I — "

The clerk wasn't having it.

He grabbed Naruto by the collar of his shirt and started dragging him out of the store.

Naruto tried to struggle, to fight back, but though the man wasn't particularly strong, he was far stronger than a eight-year-old.

"You're leaving, you little shit," the clerk said, "and you're never coming back!"

"But — but I didn't — it was an accident!" he cried. "I'm sorry!"

The store's door was flung open, bell clanging furiously, and Naruto was thrown out and onto the streets. "Be lucky I don't make you pay for all that, you little monster!"

And with that, he slammed the door shut.

Naruto just sat there, staring at the store in stunned silence.

What could he say? What could he do? Nothing. It had been an accident. No, not even that. It wasn't even his fault! He had been shoved into the shelves! All because two bastards couldn't help but block the stupid aisle!

Then, of course, Naruto realised he wasn't alone. Around him, people had stopped and stared, having seen the whole thing. Already, he could hear some muttering to one another, wondering what he had done now.

The shock gave way to anger, to humiliation, and he felt his body go red hot. Contorting his expression into a livid scowl — because the raw hurt was too embarrassing to ever show — Naruto shot up off the ground, dusted himself off, and shouted at the store. "I didn't even want your stupid food!"

Then, he turned and left.

He didn't run, despite how much he desperately wanted to. If he did that, everyone would see how weak he was — how much he truly cared. No, he took measured steps, walking down the street back home.

All the while, his thoughts were a storm of emotions. A whirlpool of thoughts spun around his head, of how unfair it was, of how stupid it was, and of how, during times like this, he hated his home. Hated it so, so much.

When he got home, he slammed the door shut, and collapsed onto his bed.

He was tired. Exhausted, emotionally. He just wanted to lay there, seething to the open air, grumbling under his breath and glaring at the stain on his roof. It had been there for as long as he had lived there, because of course it was. Naruto doesn't need a clean house, he thought, inner voice a mocking impression of his old orphanage matron. He's in the Academy now, so just chuck him wherever!

Today was not a good day.