Disclaimer: I do not own this Naruto
If you were a stranger, walked into Konoha village, and asked its citizens and shinobi what they thought of Naruto Uzumaki, the answers they would give would make you wonder what has this person done to get the wrath of the village. They would tell you he is a monster, demon, evil child, and deserved to die.
Fortunately, you knew who he was and pitied him.
Then you asked where he lived and they would point you to the way.
You would notice his apartment was dirty, and as you approach the door, you notice how quiet it is. The door opens without a sound for it was not locked. You notice how the doorknob was scratched in several places and you could see markings on it. The door itself and the frame were dented The person who lived in it was burgled so many times that he stopped replacing the locks. As you walked in you saw that the apartment was a mess. Empty ramen bowls and dirty cloths placed haphazardly in the room. You walk through noting how sparse it was. You could tell the walls were painted, the brush strokes awkward. There was a walrus cap and clothes. When you opened the drawers, you notice that in the bottom drawer, it was filled with rocks and notes on pieces of paper. Apparently, the villagers threw rocks through his window, and judging by the amount there was, for a good while now. You read a few before throwing the rest away in disgust.
There are other kinds of abuse, some are unseen and harder to detect than others are.
You wonder how anyone could live through this, much less a child. Then you wonder who would allow this to happen. How could responsible adults turn a blind eye? You ask yourself how could you have ignored this, and allowed the darkness of human hearts lash out on an innocent boy. In fact, you have not really checked on the boy until news of the Incident reached your ears. In worry, you decided to give him a visit. In this visit, you are learning so much more of the silent boy that sat in the corner of your class.
You walked away and asked the property owner where Naruto is. Her evident disgust of the boy shows through and she tells you he is at the park.
You walk to the park scanning the area for him. It was quiet due to the fact most kids are at the Ninja Academy, where he should be. You see a boy with a spiral on his orange shirt sitting on a swing alone. The shirt was full of wrinkles and ramen stains. It was obvious he did not wash it for many days. He was only six and yet he lives alone.
You walk over to him. You notice how he flinched when you stood next to him. If you were ignorant about the Incident, you would have thought he was scared of a big adult shinobi. However, you knew better. Moreover, sometimes you wished you did not.
Sometimes, ignorance was happiness. Then you would not have any guilt to deal with it.
"Hi, is the swing taken?" You asked the boy. You kept your voice warm and friendly. It was like trying to calm a frightened animal. Make a wrong move and they will bolt.
The boy's head, which was downcast, tilted upward slightly and nodded. He did not make eye contact.
You kneel slightly, eyes level with him. You wanted to make yourself the same size as he, so he would not be afraid of you. It was a fruitless attempt because he knows you are bigger than he is but it was attempt. Far more than others have done for him.
He had a thin frame, with clothes that draped over his limbs. His face was adorned with three whisker marks on each cheek. Bright blond hair contrasted his eyes. The boy's eyes were dark blue, dull and blank. You knew those eyes. You recognized those lonely and sad eyes.
They were eerily similar to yours when you were a child.
While yours might not have been the same shade of color, they were similar in other ways. Those eyes were devoid of hope, cut off from dreams.
The boy was the container of the dreaded Kyubi.
A voice in the back of your head kept on telling you that the boy is a monster and that he deserved every hit, every curse word, and every broken bone. Even now, you can see the demon chained inside him, staring at you through those broken eyes. The demon stares mockingly at you. At times, you catch his eyes flash red and you panic. Was the demon resurfacing? Was the demon escaping? While you can see the demon, the child could not. All he sees are the stares of his peers and hatred that is directed at him. He does not even know why he was hated so much.
You always saw him as a normal kid albeit shy but normal. Now that you truly looked at him, you see yourself, unwanted, unloved and full of pain.
There was this burning questions that hovered at the tip of his tongue, the tip of your tongue.
Why?
Why me?
You could feel his question even though he never spoke. He was strangely silent, always quiet, and always seemly invisible. After the Incident you knew why he was so silent. He did not want to attract attention. Because all the attention he knew were the bad kind. He wanted to not be seen. However, he was never invisible. He was shadowed by ANBU for his own safety. His teachers always looked at him when a disturbance occurred. He was the center of attention, under the ire of adults but not under the love of a community but the hatred.
You asked yourself, did anyone deserve this?
"You're a shinobi." Stated the silent child whose abnormally polite voice was only heard once a few times in class. In class, he is not outspoken or loud.
"Yes." You answer, hoping to coax him into a conversation, hoping to coax him out of his shell that protected from the world.
"Why did you become a ninja?" With sudden realization, you understood why he was asking you these questions. Every aspiring genin had to answer these questions on a quiz. It was a way for teachers to get to know their students, a way to understand their dreams and motivations.
"To protect my precious people." That was your dream in life. You reason to be a shinobi.
"Precious people?" His question startles you and you realize that while you had parents he had nothing, no one to love, no one to tell him that he was important. All he had were the disapproving looks of his peers and the ignorance of children his age.
"People who I am willing to die for." You clarify, wishing that you were not the one telling him. You were not good at this, you were better at teaching chakra control to kids.
You were a teacher not a psychologist.
"Am I one of your precious people?" His soft question jarred you out of your musings.
Is Naruto one of your precious people?
You did not know him. You were not his family. But you cared for him, and you wanted to help him.
The tiny voice in your head told you no, but the other voice, the louder voice said yes.
Naruto was crying out for help.
You notice that Naruto had curled himself up while you were thinking. A defense mechanism you thought.
"Yes, you are one of my precious people." For the first time, the boy lifted his head to look at you.
He was smiling, his foxy grin contagious making you grin as well. Again, you catch a flicker of red appearing before drowning in those sky blue eyes.
"Come on, let's go back to class. I'm sure you don't want to miss today's lesson."
You hold out your hand waiting for the boy to grab it. For a brief, second all you feel is air and then the warm feel of flesh. He grabs your hand and starts running towards the academy dragging you along. A part you know he does not trust you but is willing to give you a chance. It was what you would have done.
You smile, and let Naruto drag you back to the classroom.
You, Umino Iruka, the teacher of Uzumaki Naruto was the first to show him love.
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I am so sorry for the sudden disappearance of the fic. So sorry. But there were some things that I had to change.