A/N: (I don't or Naruto or the cover image).

She didn't know what she was supposed to do. It was supposed to be easy. Ignore the pain, loneliness, and the despair. Smile. Just smile and maybe they'd finally see her. Maybe they'd finally understand she didn't want to hurt anybody. That whatever she had done to make them hate her, she was sorry for it everyday. But they didn't care about that. They said she was a demon. A monster. An abomination. But she didn't feel like a monster.

She looked in the mirror every morning, and saw what she saw when she looked at them. Two eyes, a nose, a mouth, ears, and hair. Sure, she had defining features, like sunshine blonde hair, azure blue doe eyes, and peculiar thin whisker-scars. But, didn't everyone have things that made them different from everyone else? Wasn't that what made them human? Individuality? She didn't find anything remotely grotesque about her appearance to gain such unfavorable remarks and snarling glares from people. At least, not to her. Maybe she had somehow fooled herself into not seeing what she really was? Maybe she was ugly, and her brain tricked her into seeing a human face.

Or maybe...

Maybe it was inside. Maybe she really was a monster inside, and she just didn't know it yet. That was a horrifying thought, and she vehemently hoped she was dead wrong. But... but it had to be true... right? Too many people had said so for it not to be. So, she guessed she was. She had to be a monster.

She pressed a tiny, six year old hand against her heart. Flat against her chest, her palm felt a strong drum-like, rhythmic beating. Was her heart... dirty? Was that why no one cared if it hurt inside? Did... did monsters not deserve to live to? Weren't there nice monsters? She liked to think so. She felt like she was good. And even though she suffered such deep sadness all the time, she never wished it on anyone else. Because she didn't like pain. So she didn't want anyone to have to feel like that, especially if it was caused by her. Did the simple sight of her cause pain?

She was sorry.

She really really was... And as they- angry, villagers on the anniversary of the Fourth's death and her birthday - stomped on her, and spat, and cursed, she told them so. She said she was sorry over and over again. Whispering desperately through split, bleeding lips, staring feebly through swollen shut blue-black eyes, and cringing as the hits only came harder at the sound of her voice. No one took pity at the sight of her tears. In fact, such a show of helplessness only seemed to fuel their cruelty. Make it stronger. Want to hurt her more. Some laughed. They jeered and mocked her. And the six year old felt something she hadn't known was within her snap, shattering to pieces at the malicious guffaws of the villagers.

Eventually, they left her in the abandoned alley. Bleeding, black spots dancing across her vision, tiny body aching something fierce, broken, and left for the ANBU to drag off to the hospital. She had been content to stay happy and oblivious of the world. But the villagers wouldn't let her.

They ruined her.