Prologue: A couple of Blondes

You know, at the age of four I thought to myself, "Why was I born?"

Generally, people would be taken aback at how a child barely familiar with their own five senses could be going through an existential crisis. Any person who approached such a child wouldn't be able to fathom a chubby cheeked kid contemplating upon the reason of their own existence.

To those people I would like to tell them, "Try watching your family, the only people in this unforgiving world who you knew and in return know you, ruthlessly die in front of you."

If a person, an ordinary run of the mill human being were to suffer that tragedy, what would that person have to live for? That little bit of life that was lived would be completely destroyed, and every hideous, despicable, mind-altering scene they were forced to endure in turn, obliterated their immature heart/soul.

What proper action should that person take, let alone a child?

The first lesson I learned after the murder of my entire family was that adults don't know anymore than I did at four years old in terms of my own recovery. How to continue, how to be happy, to simply exist, no one had an answer, or a remedy that could mend at least a shred of my shattered heart.

Some assured me that I was strong because I didn't give up on my own life.

Some applauded how resilient I was in the face of my family's death, because most could not recognise apathy on a child's face.

The facade I barely put any effort into persuaded those who only knew the false truths about my apparent tragic story. From the many parents of the pre-school I was enrolled in to even civil servants like lawyers and the police, everything about my life (which was my family) was to be treated as classified information, which in turn made distancing myself from any of everyone that much easier.

The strangers who walked, talked, and looked like secret service drones made me promise not to tell anyone the truth. Now, I know it sounds ridiculous to make a child swear an oath who didn't even have a full grasp of reading, but out of all the children in the world they chose the right one.

Honestly I didn't have anything to live for, yet I promised my father that I would treat my life as a precious gift, instead of a silent and uselessly hollow existence. He also made me promise to not stay up late, not to be such a picky eater all the time, to respect my seniors; hiccup Kami help me remember my dead father's last words without falling apart.

I swore to him not to get too depressed. Though I will be lonely at first, I should attempt to make friends, ones that I can trust. To be careful and not fall for the first girl that I like, but to find someone like my mother. I couldn't help but to smile, knowing my mother and father's relationship with each other, this request might be the most challenging.

Most importantly, don't be a man to take his promises lightly, to always keep my word no matter what. The glint in my father's azure eye's as he demanded this promise was non forgiving.

After I nodded, my father struggled just to raise his arm and insert his finger into his palm to form a fist. The tears that were already running like a stream intensified into a waterfall. Barely holding my composure I returned the gesture and raised my fist to meet his, locking in the promise of a lifetime.

His lips then rested peacefully into a flat smile as his bright ocean like blue eyes dimmed into a mortifying cobalt. As my father's heartbeat was slowing down, my own heart was beating rapidly at the pace of a hummingbird.

His final words to me have echoed in my brain ever since the day I was left alone and accepted that this world was hell. He told me, "Thank you for being my son Naruto, and for having someone like me as your father."

My body felt like a crumbling dam, flooded and broken through instantaneously. Sliding down his eyelids I wept tears of absolute anguish. At the age of four the first death I ever experienced was my father, but of course it wasn't my last.

A couple of days after my family's death, the secret service people told me that I actually had family left. Apparently I had an aunt who despised the big city, so I was sent to the sticks in some middle of nowhere village.

The village looked like it was forgotten about by society, and the residents of this poor village all wore clothing resembling commoners of feudal Japan. Most of the men wore straw sandals coupled with straw hats. Almost everyone in the village had a pretty bland sense of color because every other haori was either marron blue, a dirty green, or some tanning-faded brown.

The women wore kimonos that matched their expressions, beaten up and devoid of life. Great, this village looked like it was going to be the perfect fit for me.

As one would expect, the village was small in size, probably housing a population of a meager three-thousand people. The only real beautiful aspects about this place were the flora and fauna. The plant life that grew in this village looked as if they have been alive for hundreds if not thousands of years. The pride and care the villagers had were shown through the radiant and colorful flowers, bulky and gigantic trees that seemed to reach the clouds, and the pure sparkling blue streams and rivers.

Coming from the big city, I never really spared a thought about plants and animals. I thought coming to this rural backwater village would be more of an annoyance than anything else, but nothing compared to having everything suddenly stripped away from you like a newborn from their post-birth mother.

Compared to that, a change in lifestyle and scenery was like changing a channel. In fact, it was actually nice to gain as much distance as possible from the memory of everything that I once knew and cared about. It was easier to not have to revisit the reminder of my family's murder.

Speaking of, a couple of 'Child Protective Services' agents who accompanied me to my aunt's… cottage? Which just happened to be one of the largest structures in this extremely small village.

Vibrant greenery surrounded the home while varied colors of herbs, flowers, and shrooms were littered on all sides. A pathway lined with gravel led to an emerald green door with a bright yellow knob. I could smell wood burning, also a trance-inducing sweet aroma of pastries. The thought reminded me of how my mother would always want to bake sweets even though she was absolutely terrible at it. My mother never failed to remind us that a sweet tooth will always chase their cravings especially through trial by fire.

Though the sun was right above our heads, the cottage glowed with a warm and healthy orange, enticing me to feel like I was actually going to enjoy living in this cabin in the woods.

The robotic secret agents gave me time to gather my courage. Meeting an aunt I just found out about a week ago only served to feed the growing pessimistic feeling inside me.

The same affirmations I started to tell myself echoed that being alone was going to be easier than maybe opening my heart to another even if they were my family. A small part of me, the inner child I wanted to rid myself of screamed and begged for me to love again. My legs started moving by themselves and I innately trusted my body over my numbing thoughts.

I reached the jade door and before I had the chance to knock, the cottage opened to reveal a womanish version of my father.

It seemed like both of us were startled because we both must have seen my father in each other at that same exact moment. While I had my mother's indigo shaded irises, she held an amber hue. Golden blonde hair hung from a loose ponytail and two spiky bangs framed her heart shaped face. She wore an egg shell colored haori with broad green trimming. An emerald jewel hung beneath her shoulder blades, right above breasts larger than my mothers which meant they were pretty damn large. Her presence was fierce, but felt subdued somewhat.

After five seconds of staring she gave me a smirk and knelt down to my level. Staring intently into my violet colored eyes she introduced herself.

"Well brat, my name is Tsunade. From now on this little slice of heaven will be your home. I have a ton of rules and I do expect you to obey each and every single one of them, but before any of that,"

The newly dubbed Tsunade gave the men in monkey suits a signal that they were dismissed and they promptly nodded then returned to their all-black SUV.

She then opened her arms, " Come here Naruto, you dont ever have to be shy with me. We're family after all."

Tepidly, I placed one foot after the other and slowly embraced the cinnamon smelling woman. Some form of magic took over and all of the walls, affirmations, and anxiety I felt poured all over her. She softly brought me inside the cottage and carried me to the leather brown where she stroked my hair and hugged me tightly in return.

I felt water on my spiky mess of hair and heard her whisper, "It's ok to feel child, we're not alone anymore."

I don't know how long we sat in that position, but by the time I opened my eyes I noticed that I was laying down in a bed too big for just a pint-sized kid like myself. I also discovered that I wasn't alone in the massive bed, it looked like my brand new family member passed out due to the massive emotional release along with me.

"Finally awake huh kid? I thought you were going to snuggle up to my chest for the rest of the night." Tsunade jokingly exasperated.

Her eyes were still closed so when she spoke I lightly jumped and blushed at her teasing.

"Who would want to lay next to your sagging potatoes? My mom's were a whole lot softer and more comfortable than yours!" I rebuked.

A giant vein bulged against Tsunade's forehead. Her eyes opened to reveal a highly ticked off expression.

"Want to run that by me again you ill-mannered brat?" She dared in a dangerously low tone.

"What, so you're hard of hearing too? Are you sure you're not really my grandma?" I responded with just an just as dangerous tone myself.

Well, dangerous for a four year old who really sounded like they were whining to a brazen degree. From the calm but deadly look she towered over me with, Tsunade understood quite well how I was trying to come across.

In all honesty, I didn't exactly know what sparked this bratty/rebellious attitude, but I weirdly felt like my father would have accepted my behavior towards his big sister. In fact, he would have found the whole situation hilarious and might have been a little proud. That thought alone gave me the fuel to keep this banter going for the foreseeable future.

Tsunade tilted her head to the wood covered ceiling and questioned the air, "Minato, you must have done this on purpose. To make me relive a little brother again more annoying than you is only something your smartass could come up with."

One lone tear slid down her slightly tanned cheek, but the honey blonde woman quickly switched her attention back to me and ginned sinisterly.

"Alright Naruto Tsutsumi, guess we're skipping past the family bonding phase. Straight to the house rules it is then!" Tsunade excitedly instructed while a furious golden aura enveloped her hulking figure.

My aunt lifted her body from the bed and then ripped the covers along with her, which snatched me along with them.

"What was that for?! That hurt you old ba-" Before I could get the last word out, my head was suddenly tightly grasped and constricted.

"Rule #1, respect your sweet and young aunt as well as her house. Comply or die, those are your only two options." She commanded in a not so sweet tone.

My eyes reflected a persistent defiance, so the monstrously strong woman kept her giant hands on my head and took a deep breath. She then, from what felt, put me in a baseball pitcher's position, rolled her shoulders and… followed through.

I don't remember much after that because of the enormous concussion she left me with, but I do remember her complaining.

"Dammit, now I have to pay for my wall to get fixed. Don't worry too much brat, I'll come and heal you, but don't ever forget this pain. That was only a light punishment compared to what happens the next time you dont mind your manners around me."

The last thought I managed to conjure before passing out was, 'Dad, how did you manage to survive her as a sister.'