He sighed, as the sun reached past his window, and shared its warmth with him. The sun was a constant joy in his life. It chased away the cold, from the small apartment, and the sadness when his three precious people were not with him. He smiled up toward the sun, hoping to return the favor. Eventually, he crawled from his blankets, and glanced around his small apartment. His bedroom was plain. A window, which had a plant that was also sharing the sunlight. A small bed pushed against the next wall. A dresser on the wall in front of the bed. And a small desk, near the last wall, which held the door. Nothing else. He did not have many material possessions.

He searched through the dresser, and pulled out, a pair of black shorts, and a large white shirt with a red swirl on the front. He pulled them on, placing his pajamas, on his bed. He pulled the cap; the old man had given him, off and sat it with them. He sighed and looked to the grey walls that were his room. He smiled slightly out the window, and left the bedroom.

There was a small kitchen with an island that separated it from the living room. The small living room had a worn out couch that looked as if it would fall apart. Surprisingly the couch was very sturdy. A few plants lay near the window. They were the only things that showed one lived in the apartment. The kitchen was basic, and had a table with two chairs.

He opened the cabinet's trying to find something that was edible. He loved ramen and all, but the only reason he allowed himself to eat so much, was that it was cheap. He could not stand it after so long, it eventually lost flavor after so long.

He sighed and closed them. He knew he would not be getting breakfast this morning. He smiled slightly and left the place he called home. He walked the back alleyways of Kohona; he would never walk the main streets unless it was needed. He sighed as he thought about his precious people. They were not really his precious people. He would not give everything for them, they just acknowledged him, so he returned the favor the only way he knew how.

He frowned as his thoughts brought him back to the existence he called life. He despised this village. He hated every member. He even felt remorse toward the ones he had deemed precious. They acknowledged him, but they never did anything. Oh, they were not like those people. The ones who did nothing. The ones who ignored his existence. Even the ones that openly hated him were better than them. At least they would sneer and cheer on whoever was hurting him sure, but at least he existed. The people that ignored him where the worst. They just ignored the beating, glanced and ignored as he was pushed down.

No his precious people were not like them, but they never made life easier. They smiled at him, and were kind. He did appreciate it however; it was not what he needed. He did not need someone to smile at him and not take action. He did not need someone who tried to synthesize, but go back to their warm home and family. No, he needed someone to be there for him continually, to never abandon him in any situation.

He sighed as he walked through the alleyways. The darkness had never bothered him, and he got over the creepy noises. The feeling though, the feeling of being stared at, watched,…hunted, would not leave him on this trip. He sighed, as his pace hurried slightly. He needed to get out of here, maybe see those three that acknowledged him. He was grateful to them; they did accept him, at least a little bit. He walked swiftly through the alleyways.

He took the familiar turns of the darkened area. Even in the early morning, it was darkened and dismal. He wondered if there was ever a time, that light touched this area. He sighed once more taking another turn. As he walked this small corridor, he felt something near. He frowned lightly and paused for a moment. Sometimes it was best to simply stand still, that way you can see what the disturbance is. This time he was right in that thought.

He ducked under an object that was flying toward him. He blinked and looked behind him to see a large butcher knife, implanted into the wood of the building. He childishly felt bad for the knife; it would probably hang there all alone for a good while. He turned around toward the nearing footsteps. There were two men. They were rather big, and even Naruto could smell the stench of alcohol. Naruto knew something bad was going to happen.

Naruto crouched lowly, trying to not be seen it would just lead to more trouble. Unfortunately, they already knew he was there. "Here, demon…" One said in a sneering voice. Naruto knew he was calling for him; he was the only one that the villagers called that. Alternatively, they called him Fox. He did not know what was so bad about that, he happened to like foxes. He whimpered slightly, as the other broke a beer bottle on the stone wall, nearby. He then slapped his hand over his mouth, no use they heard.

Later toward evening.

His lungs where burning and he could no longer feel his legs. The crimson life liquid, still dripped from his skin, even though the cuts had somehow vanished. He panted as he continued to run; he knew they were not far behind. Sure, he could hear the clumsy villagers, but he could not hear the others. The ones that used the trees. The ones that liked shadows, and wore those headband things. Old man had called them ninjas. He did not like ninja's they were mean, and crueler then the normal people.

He tried to get air in his burning lungs. This had been happening all day. He wondered what was so different about this day, then the others. Luckily, he had been able to lose the villagers, hours after the beginning and rest in the forest. It would seem though, that they had merely gone to get help from the others. However, he was glad he got that small pause; he knew that without it, he would not have made it this long.

Every attempt he made to go toward the Hokage tower, to hide with the Old Man was blocked off. He again wondered why they were trying so hard today. That is when he noticed the laughter coming from the village. Happiness, cheering, shouting, fireworks, and the smells. He had forgotten what day it was. October 10, the day the Kyubbi was defeated, and his birthday.

He would be 11 this year. He remembered because he began the academy this year, with the others of his age group. Sure, this was not his first year, but this was the year he was with others his age. He had met some children who were nice to him. One was named Inuzuka Kiba, and the other was Hyuuga Hinata. They were the ones that were the nicest to him. Hinata's family was cruel, but Kiba's family was actually kind to him.

He should have paid attention to the calendar. It was never safe to go out this day. Old man always says to stay at the apartment and wait for him. He came toward nighttime, and spent the rest of the evening with him. Naruto had been foolish to not glance at the calendar before leaving. He panted once more, and jumped from the knife that hit the tree, he took off running again. Self-survival the only thing in his mind. They had already caught him twice. He would not allow them to catch him again.

The hatred that lay deep inside him however was rising. It was bubbling and trying to raise to the surface. He was sick of this, the whole situation. Let them be tortured and tormented, let them be chased like a wild animal! 'That is it kit... ' Naruto stopped at the voice. The voice had always protected him. It always told him to hold on, and one day he would be happy. Now it was telling him to release the anger. He would do anything for the voice that kept him alive.

Night.

He panted leaning against the wall, he had tried fighting them off, but even the power he had gained from the voice did not work. His body was not used to it, and he did not know how to us it. So fighting had only drained him, and now he was covered in blood. In addition, it all belonged to him, a testimony of his failure. He leaned against the wall, weary and weak. He could barely move and he wondered if he would die this day. He whimpered as they surround him, the mob had grown. Usually by now, the Old Man would be here, but he was not. 'Do not fret, they had probably distracted him, o have tricked him Humans are cruel creatures.' The voice said. He nodded, but backed up as they neared him. Weapons of every kind in their grasps.

He leaned back into the wall, which was his only pillar, as well as his prison. A beer bottle, smashed into the side of his head, blood once more trailing down across his face. He knew he could not escape, not on his own. He slammed his eyes closed. At least he could try to ignore the pain.