So, another new story that's been bumbling around inside of my head, ever since I did the Omake for S&F. Unlike the others, this one may be able to stand on its own either in a single oneshot, or perhaps a series of stories in similar veins. I'm really just stamping this out because I know that I'm going to be deluged with schoolwork in the coming weeks, and I didn't want to lose the inspiration. As such, you may or may not notice a diminishing quality (and quantity) compared to my other works thus far. But, there it is.

I like to explore personality and human thought, in case you haven't noticed (I exempt first time readers who have NO idea what you're getting in to, he, he he…). And while that isn't typically the thing people come to FF looking for, I think there are enough of us here to warrant further development. To that end, I hope I do a good job with this.

Suggestions always welcome.

…

Ruby Rose was a happy child.

She had been for as long as she could remember.

Her days were filled with joy, encouraged by her loving family who made every effort to raise her into an equally happy woman. None of them ever wanted to see that innocent joy disappear.

Every day she would wake up next to her sister, who even if only related half by blood, accepted and doted on her unmercifully. Every day the two would spend time together, sharing the dream of becoming strong huntresses, in order to protect the ones they held dear.

But from what, they could only fathom.

Every day their father would help them in this endeavor, training them both in and out of school to be well-adjusted and strong in the face of the adversity they never encountered. He loved them both equally as much as he loved the two women who sired them, and never placed one's contentment above the other, nor his own above theirs.

Every day their mother would do similarly, spending as much time with them as possible before she had to go off to fulfil her own duties as a huntress. But they didn't mind, because they understood the need for such people, and admired the women for her strength. In fact, it was her inspiration that stirred them to follow in her footsteps.

They thought they understood.

Whenever she could, Summer Rose would rush home and use the bottomless energy she passed on to Ruby so that she might spend every spare second with them, playing games of fantasy and baking them homemade cookies, sneaking in the secrets of life with every heartfelt interaction.

The lessons going in one ear, and out the other.

They would spend many happy years in that remote house on the sparsely populated island of Patch, far removed from the cold indifference of the capital. Every day would be spent in the betterment of not only themselves, but the world around them.

Because the world was far from perfect, as they would come to understand.

Monsters known as Grimm wandered the countryside, drawn to negative emotions and sustained only by human flesh. It was these creatures which necessitated the existence of huntsman and huntresses. And their proliferation forced human beings into sheltered enclaves, bound together in cages of their own making to ward off the danger they posed.

And it was these creatures, the very ones they hunted, which eventually proved to be the death of Ruby's mother.

She grieved endlessly for a time, much as they knew she would. Disregarded the pleas from her sister and father, and eschewing the final wishes of the woman she loved. For a child that had never known sorrow, this blow was devastating, and made all the worse with the knowledge that Yang's mother was still out there, somewhere, ignoring their misfortune.

But time passed, and her tears dried up. And Ruby Rose was once again the happy girl which everyone knew.

Maybe she had finally learned a life lesson? Maybe she was still stuck in denial, talking to her mother's gravestone as if she were still alive behind those tons of dirt and stone. The townsfolk began whispering behind her back, noticing her shyness and disfunction when compared to her more mature sister.

But Ruby didn't care. She was still a happy child.

Because it was none of these things which helped move the girl out of her grief.

For although her days had always been filled with joy and laughter, her nights had always been filled with torment and strife.

For each and every night without fail, she would dream a dream, one that was impossible to separate from reality. As soon as she closed her eyes, they were open again in a new world, herself behind the looking glass but someone else at the helm. She saw through the eyes of a stranger, someone she had never met, but someone she felt like she had been born with side-by-side.

To the girl who had never known anything else, this was considered normal. After a time, she didn't even realize that she didn't control the body she inhabited because its actions mimicked her own so well. It thus became difficult separating this dream world from real.

She didn't skip a beat when the body lead her on its own adventures. Childlike wonderment taking mystical tales of ninja and sages to heart, and becoming as real as the ones about creatures of the night regaled to her by her parent's bedtime whispers.

But for all this wonderment which lay down the rabbit hole, there were also demons.

Those fables of glorious battle became the truth of murder behind those blue eyes. And the person she became struggled every step of the way, seeking their betterment through the hard way of life ascribed to them. But beyond that, beyond the daily toil to stay alive another day, she, they, yearned for simple acknowledgment.

The nighttime forays she witnessed were filled with spiteful glances and cold shoulders, ignoring her diminutive form which was drowned by the tide of humanity all around her. Food was not delivered from the steaming tray born by a loved one's hands, and came seldom, and cold. Lessons were learned not with gentle assistance, but harsh and hurtful consequences.

And beyond it all, she was alone in that world.

The life she witnessed was tough, and there was no one to care for her within the realm of dreams.

She would wake each day from the feeling of helplessness and disillusion to her happy home with her sister by her side and her canine companion at her feet, and realize just how lucky she was. But also, just how cruel the world could be.

And so Ruby Rose was a happy child, because she chose to be. Because she knew the darkness of the world firsthand, and was bound and determined to change it.

To help herself, to help the one she would become.

….

Naruto Uzumaki was a happy child.

He had been for as long as he could remember.

His days were filled with constant struggles, condemned at every turn by passers by who didn't even stop to learn his name and instead referred to him only as 'that boy', or if they thought he wasn't listening: 'the demon child'. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to extinguish that joy.

Every day he would wake up alone in an empty apartment. He had never had a roommate, even when he was in the orphanage, and he never had any visitors except for a wrinkled old man who would show up once a month to check in on him, and to encourage him to become a strong warrior.

Why, he could not understand.

Every day was a struggle simply to find the energy to survive. What spare time he stumbled upon was filled with constant and clumsy training, no one to help him distinguish right from wrong. When he hurt himself in the effort, the masked people who followed him around would not lift a finger to stem either his blood nor his tears. They never put him above the rest of their charges, and were perfectly equal in their indifference.

Every day the other village inhabitants would treat him the same, ignoring his plight and his every attempt to seek attention. He would smile at them, resort to playing pranks on people, just to stir a reaction out of them, force them to acknowledge his existence. In turn, their hateful words would be redoubled, and their rage justified as they refused him food or service.

Their insults went in one ear and out the other as he continued smiling.

He would spend years in that drudgery, in that dingy apartment at the edge of the Village slums, where he was exposed to every ounce of debauchery which took place in the dark ally ways and seedy bars. Every day would be spent in the betterment of himself, so that he might one day live to see the joy in the world.

Because the world was far from black and white, and goodness must persist somewhere.

He had seen it with his own eyes. When parents dropped their children off at the academy he saw the loving way they waved goodbye, or nodded proudly at the cheerful and innocent expressions. Naruto thought that he might finally gain recognition here, find a friend within the camaraderie bred in those venerable halls.

But he was mistaken, and his ostracizing became even worse.

Worse, because it was the children who now shunned him. People his own age who ought to understand his plea, couldn't because they had only ever seen the goodness of the world in their parents, and never wanted to let that go.

He spent many evenings alone on the swing set, gazing at the happy children with envy and wallowing in his misfortune.

But time passed, and his tears dried up, and he became the incorrigibly happy boy which everyone knew.

People wondered if he was deranged, if the demon in his gut had possessed him. People called him stupid, because they didn't think he understood the way the world worked, because he didn't understand joy he couldn't understand the concept of loss.

But he let their whispers slide off his back, and continued being happy despite it all.

Because it was none of these things which kept the boy sane and upbeat.

For although his days were nothing but living torment and exclusion, his nights were nothing but joy and companionship.

For each and every night without fail, he would dream a dream, one which was impossible to separate from reality. As soon as he closed his eyes, they were open again in a new world, himself gazing out of that fathomless pool of wonderment whilst someone else scooted him around on angel's wings. The life he inhabited on the other side of consciousness was so foreign that he could hardly understand it. And yet, he felt as if a part of him was really living in that idyllic world, so that he couldn't, or didn't want to believe it was fake.

To the boy who had never known anything else, this was considered normal. He was too busy reveling in the absolute happiness that each night brought that he couldn't bring himself to care if he was making the decisions.

Did he want to play? Of course he did! Did he want cookies? Who wouldn't! The tastes and the elation he felt were real, and that was good enough for him.

He soaked up every minute of the experience, unquestioning as to how or what it was. And petty things like gender, name, appearance, or even language never slowed him down. This was the language of love! And it was universal!

But there was also sadness, because now he could lose the things he had gained.

When his dreams became melancholy, and one of the people he knew he loved dearly went away to never return, he felt the sorrow which permeated through that trance and cried the same tears which fell from his then silver eyes.

But he was also happy, for now when he woke, he could say he understood loss and thus sympathize with the other children. And when he returned to the dream world, he realized just how lucky he was to have it.

He was not alone in that world even then, and thus felt like he was never alone ever. He knew it wasn't the same as making friends, but it kept him from succumbing to the hateful world he was born in. He would wake each day with renewed vigor, his extrovert battery recharged and his smile rested for a new day of use.

And so Uzumaki Naruto was a happy child, because he chose to be. Because he knew both joy as well as hate, and knew which one he preferred.

It gave him something to work towards, to make the world a place like the one he saw in his dreams.