chapter 1
I do not own the franchise Naruto
"It was a day like any other in the village hidden in the leaves. A tapestry of cheerful tranquility enveloped the air, infusing every corner with contagious joy. The sun, radiant and resplendent, cast its golden rays as beacons of guidance, leading the village's denizens on a journey of unbridled happiness and well-being. Laughter echoed through the streets as children, filled with boundless energy, scampered like playful rabbits, their mirth akin to a chorus of melodious birds. The tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pastries and home-cooked meals danced on the breeze, enticing all who breathed it in. Amid this picturesque day, mothers tenderly beckoned their children home for a delectable dinner. It truly was a day unlike any other—a day in the village of Konohagakure, a haven of unadulterated bliss.
For one fair-haired boy, the day wasn't that much of a beauty, nor was any day, for that matter. Around this time of day, one Uzumaki Naruto could be found behind the old antique store, unseen by the public. In the alleyways between the market area and the housing district, where the bums occasionally hung out, sometimes literally, it was his favorite place to be around this time of day. With the position of the store angled just right, shielding him from the sun's oppressive rays, the seclusion the area granted, and the overall peace of mind he got from being alone, it was perfect.
Within his grasp, he clasped an empty juice box—a mere vessel devoid of its nectar. And in his other hand, a nondescript brown paper bag concealed its mysterious contents. Though the juice box had fulfilled its purpose, Naruto hesitated to discard it. It harbored other uses yet to be revealed.
School had concluded for the day, and as it was with most days, Naruto found himself alone without any means for entertainment. A day like any other. Of course, he could always hang out with his "friends," the extent of what the definition of the word implied, in contrast to the relationship he shared with those people he'd never know. It wasn't like any of them had anything of importance doing anyway, the layabouts that they were. Knowing them, they were probably on their way to uphold the stupid routine of things they did every day. Not saying that he wouldn't have had a good time if he wanted to hang with them. It wasn't like they were a bunch of snobs, minus Sasuke; they were all okay guys. Heck, compared to the progenitors of the Dog Shits, they were perfect. Not today, though. He didn't feel up to it today, and forcing himself to would only lead him to situations he most certainly would not regret.
His stomach grumbled, reminding him he had skipped lunch this morning. At that moment, he had the most amazing idea: he would go to Ichiraku's, the answer to any and all his problems. Just the thought alone had him salivating. He tore the top of the empty juice box in his hand, filled the box with the contents of the brown paper bag before throwing it in the garden behind him. It belonged to the antique store owner's wife, the cunt. This should teach her better than to throw piss at him. So what if she didn't want him on her steps? He could go wherever he damned pleased. Laws be damned.
The rain should do the rest, he said, stepping out of the chilly shade the antique store provided him and into the angry embrace of the hot sun. The idea of what was to come filled him with dread. If it was up to him, Konoha's alleyways would become his main, and the main his alleys. But even then, "they" would still be there, so the purpose got defeated. And after everything that happened last time, he would rather take his chances with the devils he knew than the ones he didn't. Either way, one thing was for sure: teleportation, flight, lightning-fast speed, and underground travel were at the top of his Ninjutsu list to learn when he became a Shinobi. That was a definite. No, it was a fact.
Belatedly, Naruto had arrived in the lane that led out to Konoha's market or vice versa, whatever floated your boat. He hadn't stepped foot on the main yet, but he already wanted to leave. His heart raced, sweat soaked his palms, and knees threatened to buckle beneath the weight of his self-imposed burden. A merciless chuckle escaped his lips, In a way, it was kind of funny. "Walking his road" (as the old man had dubbed it) was something he did every day but could never seem to get used to. 'I guess it goes to show that no matter how much you bullshit yourself, you never really do, huh?' Naruto thought to himself.
Yet, in the grand tapestry of existence, such trivialities held little consequence
For, in the end, realities remained unchanged and immutable, impervious to the whims of mortal souls.If hell was where you called home, you best remember to always bring back dinner and it better be damned hot.