Before you start reading this, let me just say that this story isn't as dark as it appears.
Contact.
"Uzumaki Naruto…"
The white noise of the marketplace seemed to dissipate as the two males watched one another. Both could discern vast amounts of information from the other, but only one was fooled by delusion.
"Move aside brat, you're in the way."
Just how much can an ostracized boy crave attention? How far… how low is he willing to go to get it?
Hope can be a harsh mistress…
"You want me to train you?" The sheer incredulity in the man's voice made him ache… He would prove them wrong… he would. The masked man with the hateful eyes would only be the first step.
The man was apparently pleased by his discomfort, as he usually was. "Have you lost whatever feeble mind you had, monster? I hate you. What's more, you know that I hate you. Why would you possibly want me to train you?"
Naruto looked the man in the eye and was unfazed by the restrained hostility. "Everyone hates me… but you're not like them."
"Ha! What makes their hatred so different from mine?"
"You're… honest."
The lesser of two evils… is still evil.
"Understand this, monster. I am going to use whatever opportunity I have to hurt you… just because I can. You want training? Fine. We'll 'train'. You won't much like my methods, but you're free to quit at any time."
Naruto nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you… can you tell me your name?"
The man's glare was suddenly amplified by monstrous killing intent. Naruto felt his lungs constrict as terror immobilized him. The man held the gaze for a few more seconds before letting off.
The seven year old fell to his knees and gasped for breath as his newteacher spoke. "You don't deserve to know, monster. But you can just call me Justice."
A man and a conflict. Undying loyalty, patriotism balanced against abhorrence. How low is a man willing to go when given an opportunity? How low can he go when no one will stop him?
Naruto screamed as a rain of blades tore at his flesh, sending wild signals to his brain and ravaging his sense of self. When he fell to the bloody ground, he was closer to a leaking sack of meat than a human being.
"Well?" his teacher asked. "You can still move can't you? Get up and fight, monster," the man ordered.
After a few seconds, Naruto complied.
As it turns out, the pit is deep indeed.
"What did you think you were doing? Your methods were barbaric… I should have you killed!"
Naruto interjected immediately. "Don't worry about me, old man! I'll get his acknowledgement, one way or the other."
Sarutobi's blood chilled as he realized that the incredibly traumatizing experience Naruto went through… didn't seem to affect him at all. He was the same as he always was. What did that say about his usual state of mind?
"You understand now, Hokage-sama? You say I broke him, but there was nothing to break. The boy was never all there to begin with. He was free to quit at any time. He still is. This is what he wants."
When mental disorder isn't harmful to society, can it be tolerated? Who is the true monster?
Uzumaki Naruto, age seven, a blond haired, blue eyed and underdeveloped boy.
The previous sentence contained entirely factual information regarding one of Konohagakure's newest military aspirants. While that information was basic in nature, it was also privately contested by the majority of the village's inhabitants. To them, the following sentence would be much more accurate.
Kyuubi no Youko, age unknown, a red eyed, nine-tailed and immense kitsune demon, colored like diluted blood.
The two sentences are massively disparate and yet they are both attached to the same being, a being with the appearance of a blond haired, blue eyed boy. So, why was the second sentence so widely attached to the seemingly ordinary youth?
If one were to ask a knowledgeable resident of that village, one would receive a well known adage as an answer.
"It's what's on the inside that counts."
But if one were to ask history's strongest, most successful ninja, Sarutobi Sasuke, what he thought about the matter, he would tell them:
"When dealing with ninja, one must look underneath the underneath. Unfortunately, it is a lesson many fail to learn."
Uzumaki Naruto was not a shinobi, but his very existence was intertwined with them. He was attached to them before his very birth.
He was a man, thirty-nine years of age. While skilled in his chosen profession, he was considered ancient in the eyes of his peers. ANBU didn't have particularly long life expectancies. He wasn't a fossil like their venerable Hokage, but he was certainly one of the seniors.
A man with no family, no friends and no prospects, a victim of circumstance, one circumstance, one tragedy. Seven years before, his loved ones faced the strongest being known to man.
He was by their side. He watched, helpless, as his comrades and his entire clan became dreadfully inanimate. Suddenly, he had nothing of worth left and no way to regain what he had lost. Worse still, he had been unlucky enough to survive.
Suicide wasn't an option. He was ANBU. He would die when and where his village told him to and not a second before. Unlike many of his comrades, he wasn't prone to drinking himself under the table. He couldn't allow himself to forget their faces, not even for a second. He would remember, always. He was the only one that could.
Therefore, work was what the remnants of his life revolved around. The assignments he requested like clockwork, the bodies he no longer cared about… and the mask he wore more often than not. That mask was unique among the ANBU as it was bore no distinguishing marks. A white mask, a personal request that his superiors felt obligated to grant. He had no squad and belonged to no division. He drifted along to where he was needed, where he felt like going. Officially, he was long since retired.
Unofficially, his designation was…
"Vagrant, that's another successful mission! Pretty soon you'll reach fifteen hundred."
The public rooms and hallways of the ANBU headquarters were practically identical. They were uniformly well lighted, carpeted, bleached and above all, silent. The absence of sound was a quality that unnerved rookies and bothered their seniors, because in the absence of stimulation, the mind occupied itself. In perfect darkness, they could see things that weren't there. In perfect silence, they could hear from the inside.
A ninja's mind was filled with screams that never quieted and voices that knew no rest.
The only exceptions were the personal and mission debriefing office. They were the only rooms that were ever populated by anyone and it was therefore no surprise that his mission count was common knowledge.
The one called Vagrant smiled slightly and responded in a civil and socially constructive manner. "Something to look forward to."
He had no friends, but he did have acquaintances. He didn't really mind the small talk.
His associate nodded as he gave his mission report to the rookie kunoichi who got suckered into handling the paperwork. If she was smart, then she would study the methods detailed in the debriefing and turn this into a learning experience as it was supposed to be. Judging by her bored expression, that was unlikely.
"Well, we'll see you later, I'm sure. Have a good day, Vagrant," the upbeat man gave his farewells and left to join his squad mates.
The masked man nodded and headed towards his cheap one bedroom apartment. He'd sold his official clan lands when the hallucinations began to impede his work. He'd kept the money, but never really found a use for it.
The sun was being swallowed by the distant horizon and the winds pushed grey clouds overhead. Rain was coming, how unpleasant. His black robes suddenly seemed to gain a hundred pounds and lose thirty degrees. He was cold and not a little dismayed.
It would be a long night.
The jinchuuriki labeled with the appellation Uzumaki Naruto was not physically daunting. As a matter of fact, in another time, another place, a boy with his appearance would've been continuously assaulted by passing women. Particularly, his soft, delicate cheeks would've received traumatic damage. It was known to many that old ladies loved to pinch the cheeks of cute children and that they liked to pinch hard.
Unfortunately for the little boy, there was no old lady in Konoha who would approach his marked face with the intention of delighting in its innocent beauty. They were much more likely to scratch at it and try to tear his vibrant eyes out until he ran away, as he discovered when he was big enough to travel on his own, at the age of four.
The boy didn't remember this, but he spent the first few years of his life in the company of Sarutobi Sasuke, Konohagakure's Third Hokage, after it was discovered that his caretakers had been feeding him pig's blood instead of milk. When questioned by Ibiki, it was revealed that this wasn't done with malicious intent, but that they simply acted in what they believed to be the best interest of the demon child.
Sarutobi, who finally understood what Naruto would have to live through, showered the child with attention and love. He raised the child out of duty, guilt and sincere affection for the infant. He had promised his predecessor that he would do everything in his power so that his orphaned child would be happy and he was a man of his word. In doing so, he would impart his impressionable charge with his love for humanity, his sense of right and wrong.
Naruto would never forget. At the age of thirteen months, when Naruto became aware of his own individuality, he became firmly entrenched in the path of the optimist.
Naruto's road would be a long one, because his opponent was not a person or a group, but prejudice, which was much harder to overcome. The general populace believed him to be a demon in disguise and there was nothing he could do to change their minds. They would believe him by themselves or not at all.
Because there could be no compromise between predator and prey, as long as they denied him his humanity, Naruto would always be seen as an enemy. There would be no guilt, no conscience involved. Only the most logical, the most observant of beings would see him as he was and only after observing him for some time.
At the age of seven, Naruto joined Konoha's central ninja academy, home of the brightest upcoming ninja in the world.
Naruto was unaware of Kyuubi's existence inside of him because Sarutobi wished it so. The old man meant well, but his act was a setback nonetheless. Naruto believed that he lacked acceptance when he, in fact, lacked humanity. From his point of view, he couldn't have made a better choice. If he wanted respect and acknowledgement becoming a ninja was the perfect path. However…
Trying to find humanity in the shinobi world was pure folly.