Chapter 1 Reworked!

Current Timeline

At the tender age of 4, a little blonde, padded barefoot down a dark alley at a harried pace.

Her small feet sore and bleeding, shoes taken from her with more glee than was necessary, by the supposed 'mother hen' of the orphanage, read prison.

Her startling blue eyes, glassy with tears, that threatened to cascade down her whiskered cheeks. She could hear the heavy footfalls followed her clumsy uncoordinated getaway.

"SHE WENT THIS WAY," a villager shouted with glee "IN HERE!" They shouted some more.

She was cornered with nowhere to go and no time to think her way out. Why didn't she listen to her gut feeling? That feeling that had never let her astray?

In her panic she did the only thing she could and pushed and shoved her tiny body behind the heavy looking dumpster at the very bottom of the alley in an attempt to hide from her tormentors. The dam of salty tears broke and ran freely down her cheeks cascading upon her malnourished form.

She quivered, still sobbing silently, at the approaching footsteps while questions flittered through her mind. One thing was abundantly clear to her, the villagers - the people who were currently amassing in the same alley she was...wanted her dead.

Flashback

Now Naruko wasn't your average 4-year-old despite an age-old mass of orange furry fox Chakra inside her.

No Naruko, was most definitely a prodigy.

She learnt to walk six months faster than any of her peers, talk and was intuitively aware of people's intentions. She learnt by observing whatever she could and could remember everything she ever saw or read. It was perhaps due to the very environment she was being brought up in, that this sense developed. She of course, had no one and nothing to compare herself to and so thought herself the norm.

Aside from the ordinary, (well as ordinary as all that is), she had fully accessed her chakra network and - without realising the importance of her discovery - played with advanced Chakra manipulation. To Naruko, her Chakra was her only friend and the snippets of conversation she'd grasped from ninja training nearby and occasionally from ninja walking down the street, were invaluable.

She made it a game, a challenge, to test her limits. She created spherical bubbles lighter than air, so they floated above her and filled with an orange flame so pure it sparkled and lit up her small room like balloons filled with Milky Ways. She created fireworks that lit up her eyes and filled her with hope and made beads of light which chased each other around her small space. She made Chakra constructs in the shape of animals aplenty, one the shape of a kitten she had once seen and let it chase a glowing mouse around the small space. They would roll and tumble and frolic together without a care in the world.

It gave her endless joy, to create something from nothing and a sense of fulfilment like no other. She would often dream of the possibilities that were as vast as the sky and that she would someday be free enough to uncover them all.

The Chakra running through her gave her a warmth that was indescribable, and in the void of darkness, she clung to it - and it to her.

The matron of the orphanage might've noticed her talents had she bothered to spend any time at all with the young blonde. If anyone knew she was gifted with high intelligence, one could only imagine the reaction of the villagers she was already hated by.

It was these lines of thinking which made her feel bitter.

'Heaven forbid the 'Demon' could actually think for herself!' She pondered morosely, gazing through a hole she had gouged into the wood that was her boarded up window. Now wasn't that a whole new can of worms.

Yes, she had noticed that while she wasn't the only child at the orphanage - she was treated differently. Segregated from the rest of the children. Eternally grounded, but for what, she didn't know. But there she had remained since the time she could first form thought, in her small square of space; the room.

Should the villagers catch sight of Naruko at the high-up window of the room, (she loathed to call it a bedroom), she would receive vicious glares that promised something she couldn't yet comprehend, as smart as she was – she was still only 4.

Though rather than let it get to her she decided that she must think about it logically.

After all, they couldn't touch her, how could they when she never left the room bar one escorted visit to the bathroom a day. She was given putrid water and was lucky if she got one meal a day, often stale bread served with a chilly flavourless broth. It was a miracle that she had never gotten sick! There wasn't much they could do to make her life any more miserable...right?

Though, of course, her small little space had gotten boarded up. Not even the light of day could reach through the nailed wood, occasionally sounds around her permeated the room. Dull thuds and ringing laughter were sometimes carried up to the attic to where Naruko was.

'More time to think I suppose...'

And so, in the unending darkness Naruko began to process what she could.

'My name is Naruko Uzumaki.'

'…Made up name given by the orphanage? …Perhaps. However, no-one in the village shared my surname that I'm aware of and they aren't such imaginative creatures to make up such a name.

Which means someone had to have given me a name. A parent? A Relative?

If I am so hated, then why would they keep a name I was given by someone else? They could've just changed my name to Demon Child and be done with it. Therefore, it had to be someone of importance that gave me my name. Someone respected, someone whose opinion mattered. Someone also then had to have power enough to enforce it.'

'Hmm, if this is the case, then why-oh-why am I treated like trash on the floor?' She questioned in her mind.

'I have blonde hair and blue eyes.'

'Whisker marks on my cheeks.'

'Hmm unusual for the village I suppose, but wait...' Her eyes widened, a stray thought, plucked from the recesses of her mind. 'Not unlike a description of a certain well respected, now deceased Fourth Hokage...'

When she could she would sneak out of the orphanage unnoticed and wander the streets at night. Naruko didn't have a lot of pride and had no problem dumpster-diving for any useful tid-bits of information, for her thirst for knowledge was far greater than that.

So, she scavenged what she could and observed her surroundings carefully, it wouldn't do to be caught - the consequences were too horrible to consider.

That night, she reviewed her prizes; Shoes, clothing, old ninja weapons, old jutsu scrolls and her personal favourite, books. Quite the hoard. All of which were carefully stowed away in an old used cabinet she had procured, fixed and hidden atop the Hokage monument, (or more specifically – up the Fourth Hokage's left nostril). Except the shoes, she could really use some newer ones, given that her current state of dress left much to be desired. Her shoes were by far the biggest problem, straps of the tatty sandals thin and worn and frayed - a wonder they managed to stay on! Most of all she hated having cold feet, she could cope with a lot of things but having cold feet was the absolute worst (in her opinion)! Her newly found shoes were just the right size, slightly worn looking but they shone in comparison with her old ones.

'Really, people are so wasteful...' She mused.

It was upon the Hokage monument, atop the head of The Fourth Hokage, that Naruko had taught herself to read and write. It was in reading that she found her love for books.

Two books, (from her previous scavenging), in particular had secured a special place in her heart.

The first called 'A Tale of a Gutsy Ninja' by an unknown author and the second, a very detailed account of the previous Hokages and their famous ventures. Naruko loved how the main character's name in the first book 'Naruto' was so similar to her own and would often envision herself in his place, fantasising the adventures she could have, it was just another way she learnt to cope with her living conditions.

But it was the second book, the book about the previous Hokage's that had her in a state of awe. The Yondaime, The Fourth Hokage, was perhaps her favourite of all the Kage.

It was the narrator's description of him that captured her attention. Blonde hair and a gaze that was said to freeze enemies with just a glance, along with his signature jutsu the 'Hiraishin' earning him the nickname 'Yellow Flash'. All of the Hokage's were of course no less impressive, all incredibly charismatic, all with an inner strength she could feel emanating from the words on the paper and all had the ability to see through their enemies, preempting their attacks. This perhaps, she thought, was their greatest asset. She from there absorbed and retained all of the information she read and never forgot a word. She figured the key to outwitting your enemy was to be prepared and an eidetic memory would certainly help her there.

So back along her previous line of thought...

'The only blondes she knew of were a clan called the Yamanaka's. Blonde, yes, just not her particular shade.'

The fourth Hokage, from what she had gathered from her favourite book, was a man with long bangs of yellow hair and eyes an icy blue colour.

'Well blonde hair and blue eyes. Hmm, if she were to follow that thought then hypothetically if he were her father, what about the whiskers, where did they come from? She hadn't seen or heard of anyone with this trait. But what kind of parent would stick their child into that place?'

'From what she had seen of the Hokage monument the Kage certainly didn't appear to have whiskers. Then again, the only opportunities she had to take jaunt outside were at night and wasn't it was plausible that he could also have had the same markings as herself.'

Her intuition was nudging her, part of what she had though up was right, but she was missing some information.

'Another restless night for me then.' She huffed and curled into her threadbare blanket trying to ignore the biting cold.

The next day the little blonde decided to take up the topic with one of the older residents of the orphanage. After all, let's face it, no adult would give her the time of day.

On her only bathroom break of the day, she managed to slip past her 'watcher' and head towards the voices she had been hearing through the walls.

Squinting slightly as the light stung her eyes she quickly observed the child residents and saw someone suitable a short way away from the other children gathered in the sofa room. He was sat by himself, rolling a small blue rubber ball absentmindedly between his palms a look of boredom graced his features as he looked out the window.

Squaring her small shoulders, she approached the older orphan.

The boy, no older than 12, looked up at the sounds of her small footsteps and jumped to his feet.

She had startled him, it appeared. The small bouncy object rolled upon the uneven floorboards towards where she stood. She hesitated for a second, eyeing the boy's reaction and picked up the ball.

'Here.' She held the ball on the palm of her hand and extended her arm, conscious of invading his personal space. She knew first impressions were important and Hokage-be-damned she wanted her answers.

When he didn't immediately react, she tilted her head in confusion and gestured for him to take her peace offering. She could see in his eyes the moment he registered just who held his toy on her palm.

"Stay away from me, how did you get out Demon!?"He hissed loudly, scrabbling back away from her till he dropped behind the sofa, drawing unwelcome attention to that end of the room. She frowned at his reaction, after all, how threatening can a four-year-old be?

'Demon?' She asked her intuition told her that this was important. Yes - she had been called it before but had thought it a cruel nickname as best. 'Could there be more to it?' She wondered. She watched as his eyes darted around him as if looking for an escape or one of her 'Watchers' like a skittish animal.

"MATRON!" He shouted.

The flustered looking head matron rushed around the corner head swivelling from side to side in her search. Her beady black eyes narrowed as they caught sight of the small blonde. Her teeth gnashed together in anger with an audible snap, face purpling with blotches and angry vein on her short stubby neck.

Not the most attractive of expressions she had seen on the woman's face before. But never had she treated Naruko with anything other than utter loathing. Never did she try to hide the hate in her expression. The Village knew of her 'mother hen' tendencies towards 'her' children within the orphanage, it was how she had built up the sparkling reputation she held so haughtily behind cyanide smiles. Not that she was abusive to any of the children in her care - barring Naruko of course. But no, to Naruko this was nothing outside of normal.

Fortunately for Naruko this particular brand of hate had never escalated into anything more than being roughly thrown into 'the room'. Until now.

Intuition flaring Naruko backed away dropping the small blue ball in the process, she was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. She had to get away! Whatever the matron was mad at had to be bad, she was practically frothing at the mouth!

She thundered over to Naruko, who was backed into the wall and quickly grabbed her arm before she could run.

[SLAP!] The sound echoed in her ears, vision flashing with small black dots from the force of the impact on her cheek. Naruko unsteadily gazed at her attacker, one small hand nursing her now bruising cheek. A red claw-shaped mark covered the entire side of her face and one of her eyes was closed in pain.

"What do you think you're doing down here? Tried to escape, did we? Well lucky for you I just got tired of taking so much time out of my day to look after Demon spawn like you! There's only so much patience one woman can have!" She screeched as if that justified the matter. She then nodded to herself and made her decision. The clasp of her hand on Naruko's arm turned punishing and bruised. Naruko winced as she was dragged towards the door of the orphanage.

"Today's finally the day I can say good riddance! That old fool we call Hokage seems to be looking the other way while we punish you. Serves. You. Right." She punctured every syllable with a shake of Naruko's arm. "I can safely say no remnants of the fox will ever darken my doorstop again!"

She forced open the door, hitting Naruko with it in the process and stampeded down the steps. Naruko's tiny legs were unable to keep pace with her determined strides and hit each one on the way down. After which she was quite literally flung into the dirt.

Not before taking the sandals off her feet while spitefully muttering close to the little girl's face with spittle flying from her lips, "Fox Demons shouldn't have a need for shoes!"

Flashback end

So, it is here we find Naruko, tiny body and mind aching with the realisation that the reason for her whiskers, the reason for the hate and mistreatment. The reason she had never seen daylight, or a simple smile turned her way, was because she housed the Nine Tailed Fox.

A shiver racked her small frame as her intuition confirmed her theory. She finally had her answer.

She focused on her breathing before panic could set in. In and out. In and out. 'Well, there's not a lot I can do about it now,' she reasoned. Breathing deeply once again her muddled thoughts slowly began to clear.

Her eyes, if she had a mirror, were glowing a brilliant orange and had hardened in resolve.

Naruko closed her eyes, shutting out the world, her breath once in fast bursts was now slowed and became surer and steadier the more she focused and immersed herself in the feeling of calm and focus.

Deep within, she felt a tingling warmth spread from the tips of her toes to the ends of her fingertips and back again. She shivered, not in fear this time but anticipation. She grinned, something was coming.

Delving into the unknown, Naruko grasped at that warm feeling and pulled. Bit by bit her temperature rose, her breath in the cold air leaving a ghostly trail. She could feel that familiar nudge, urging her to surround herself in this power, to shield her.

A pressure came upon the alleyway, the kind that made the villager's skin turn to goose flesh. Some on them hesitated gaits faltering, some froze on spot and began to back away, while the less aware amongst them charged on heedless towards the small blonde they knew was hiding behind the filthy dumpster at the end of the jetty.

Elsewhere...

A man wearing a checkered mask, paced furiously, the tap of his well-polished shoes the only sound echoing around the hallways he stood in.

"Shit" he cursed. "Am I too late?!"

His annoying assistant, for once, stayed silent, watching his master wear a hole in the tiled floor.

"COME ON, HURRY! Please! Let this work!" He whispered in desperation. He knew what he was doing was wrong but there was no longer any time. "Please," he prayed.

Through a window in the hallway, the two men watched with bated breath as the seven strongest assembled on the hill beyond.

Gifted with the ability to see Flames – the masked man could see the Flames of the Rainbow had gathered at last and if the situation wasn't so dire, he might have been able to appreciate the view.

As the sun rose upon the gathered seven a light so bright, so pure, descended from the heavens upon the circle of people gathered.

Light illuminated the ground around them, their forms casting great shadows that reached the window where the two men observed.

If one looked closely, they could see that the light was made from condensed Sky Flames. Flames that appeared to be coming from a portal in the clouds, pointing downwards from a distant location and unbeknownst to them, across the rift in dimensions to Konohagakure (The Village Hidden in the Leaves).

The seven strongest, shielded their eyes from the now immense brightness and felt their very energies being tapped into and fed into the unknown...

Little did they know that this would be the beginning of the Arcobolano.