A/N: No More is an AU fanfic done in retrospect to my on-going Nature of the Beast and Nature of the Beast: Taming of the Savage Beast story line. Where the beastly tales are more fantastical and based loosely (very loosely I might add) around the Kitsune legends, this story is an exercise rooted a bit closer to the canon storyline with my particular take on how I'd like to see Naruto written. As it is written in my particular style, many of you will find it grittier than most stories, however, I did try to "lighten up a bit" for the sake of general jocularity. Despite the more drama-laced moments, I did state that this will be AU driven and I'm generally stubborn like that.

I intend to keep the OCs much lower in number, but I make no promises on characters remaining blindly faithful to the Kishimoto canon versions. Neither do I plan on keeping the story faithfully in line with canon – I'm just not going to wander off into the back woods of Narnia.

There a couple things I'll share up front:

- I despise some of the more glaring holes I've seen in a variety of places. How can the MC get set back even a single year yet not know any of the students in the previous class? Ludicrous I tell you.

- I also still refuse to accept his blind devotion to a village that hates him. Nuh-uh, not gonna happen.

- Furthermore, given that the Yondaime rigged a very powerful and highly prototypical seal designed to selectively filter the bijuu's enormous power so that it didn't overwhelm the host, why would he split the chakra of said bijuu under an alleged fear that the vessel couldn't handle the strain? Hogwash. Pure, unadulterated, and undeniable hogwash. There will be no split Kyuubi chakra simply for the benefit of senseless plot hooks designed around self-destructive inner turmoil drama. Full Kyuubi… yin and yang stuffed behind the seal in all its Kyuubi-esque glory, dattebayo.

Some of the ages will be adjusted to simplify some of the story threads. Anko will be only seven years older than Naruto, not twelve or fifteen. I'm keeping the multiple failure theme for our protagonist so that will put him at roughly fourteen going on fifteen years of age when the Mizuki incident happens. There will also be a few other minor changes to our hero's life but you'll see those as they happen. Butterfly Effect? Possibly. Shinobi pandemonium and chaos? Definitely.

I'm not sure how large this story is going to be when it's done but I plan to take my time writing this one as I finish Taming of the Savage Beast. Also, there have been no decisions on pairings yet since there won't be Kitsune to fill the gaps. You have a favorite? Leave a recommendation in a review. All's fair as they say…

And as ever stated, enjoy as you will…

~Siva'a-tasi

~III~

A/N: Updated Jan 04, 2019 to correct grammar and spelling issues. The goal was to clean up some of the transitions and attempt to better identify when the characters are speaking/ thinking/transitioning from one scene to another. I may continue this trend depending on how the story progresses.

Flashback or reference to a previously occurring event

'Thinking/ Flashback Text'

"Normal Speaking"

'Bijuu/Demonic Thinking'

"Bijuu/Demonic Talking"

"Yelling or Speaking with Strong Emotion"

[Special Actions/ Hand Signals] - Let's be honest, this is really just a placeholder since I've not used it yet.

I will not be repeating this legend again unless I add something new. Expect this to become the standard for this fanfic.

A/N June 2019: The Types of Stories I Write [CAUTION NOTE]

Some of you have mentioned that this story, especially in the first few chapters, is difficult to follow. There is a lot going on and the story "loses you."

For those of you new to my particular brand of fanfiction, that is intentional for this particular work but it gets better. Fair warning to new readers.

I write what I like to read. My stories have a lot going on in them. There are multiple themes, twists, ideas, points of view, and story facets. It's a mess most producers would burn rather than look twice at, but that's okay. I like stories that keep my mind busy. I like stories that also keep me on my toes wondering if I can trust this or that character because you never know where betrayal will come from next. This is especially so in a world where deceit and trickery are a staple of life, as in a major shinobi village.

Apparently, this disturbs some of you. A lot.

Like... a lot, a lot.

Consider this a warning label, cautionary note, whatever you like. I write stories that will challenge you mentally and (hopefully) keep you engaged as the story develops. I would like to see you stick with me until the end but I'm not crazy enough to think that the vast majority won't fall away uninterested. This is fine also.

Life isn't predictable. If you want a linear story where it sticks with the MC the entire way through, there are plenty of them out there. There are a few linked on my profile that I'd highly recommend. I don't usually write those kinds of stories. Why should I? Even when focused on the MC, bad guys have plans, dreams, and goals; I don't focus on every bad guy, just the ones that will cross paths with my MC. Hell, even NPCs have some impact on the story (just look at Teuchi for an example).

While they won't (and shouldn't) command huge chunks of story, a well-written story should blend the chaos of general life. Life is a little chaotic. Life is a little messy. Life can be a little bit unpredictable.

Therefore, so are the stories that I write.

~Siv

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto or have the patent on creativity. I just have an odd brain.

Chapter 1: Birth of a Phantom

Dark. Grungy. Uncomfortable. These weren't the only adjectives pinging off the inside of his skull at the moment. Sitting in the ankle-high "sewer water" floating towards him through the gigantic bronze bars not three meters from his lackadaisical lotus position (I mean… he was sitting in a dingy sewer despite the apparent lack of human excrement so it had to be sewer water, right? Did it really matter if it glowed with a dull reddish-orange light?), they were the most prominent ones at the time.

The hunched shoulders of the young teen seemed to radiate despair and desperation in waves. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting…talking…mumbling to the monstrous bulk lazily scrutinizing him with those eerie glowing eyeballs. He knew it was wearing thin, razor thin, on his already frazzled nerves. This particular routine stagnated shortly after his first arrival to the mindscape some three-plus years ago. For the first time since that initial meeting, he was beginning to wonder if anything mattered anymore. I mean…if nothing changed then why sweat the details?

Take the eyeball large enough for a human to lay flat on, for example, and the rest of the creature it ultimately served. The sickening level of apathy he'd bore the brunt of these past three years only served to prove that he couldn't count on anyone but himself, least of all his reluctant tenant. Ironic, in that brilliant epiphany of hope and despair, one that he'd had to learn the hard way (the extremely painful way) exemplifying the self-defeating belief that he couldn't even count on himself.

Today had been a stellar representation of that principle signifying a lesson in hopelessness and frustration.

Rising to his feet in the sloshing swill gurgling and swirling about his ankles, the despondent teen's mop of glowingly-sunny hair lifted up from the floor and the eerily orange-red glowing water to fixate on the lethargic titan of equally burnt orange fur. With a final tsk of disappointment, the tightly-packed figure of an athlete gave one mocking two-fingered salute from his brow before fading from view thereby missing the rueful smirk and happy swishing of multiple tails from the obstinate creature.

He had other things to worry about. For instance, he needed to worry about today.

'Well…today absolutely sucked.'

Standing on the roof of a run-down tenement building nestled deep into the south-eastern corner of his home village, the same blond-haired, blue-eyed miscreant rose from his real-life lotus position and exhaled a deep cleansing grunt of air from his lungs. With nothing more to add to his grand realization, he turned his cobalt blue orbs outward this time to take in the relatively quiet ambiance of his slum-like neighborhood. He was most likely going to spend the rest of his days here just before dying in debilitating boredom and insignificance.

That single thought, unspoken in the underwhelming void comprising Konoha's muggy summer evening, succinctly captured not just today's spectacular failure but the previous half decade of emotional pain and gnashed teeth. It was pure coincidence that his already crappy mood cooled into self-loathing just as the burning orange sunset plastered the horizon with deep violet and crimson streamers. Ironic that some of those were his favorite colors.

Standing atop the broken-down ruins representing his home, Naruto Uzumaki inhaled deeply the rancid air of his decrepit neighborhood while simultaneously trying to reconcile both his brief existence and his lifelong culmination of failure, to date, with his current list of abysmally short options for happiness.

'Three Strikes,' two hateful words that were incessantly bouncing around in his seemingly hollowed-out skull. He wasn't a total idiot, but he was smart enough to recognize his strength never lay in the fine art of scholarly pursuits… with one noted exception. That meant more schooling was absolutely out of the question.

He'd failed Konoha's Academy graduation exam for three years straight (with what he recognized as plenty of institutional assistance) and the loss of that third failure stung deeply. His prophetic realization showed that it stung far too deeply for him to convincingly lie to himself with conviction at its non-importance in the far-flung scale of life's hard knock lessons. This loss violently compressed his chest every time Iruka-sensei's, "I'm sorry, Naruto, but you've failed," reverberated in his extremely keen ears.

He'd seen Akimichi's pound wooden slabs into the ground with less shock and awe but, in the end, the devastation to his personal career plan had been morosely and equally efficient. Without his first option at career success, really the only thing he felt himself marginally skilled at, that left even less chance of his second life goal ever coming to fruition.

Pulling a faded black and white photo from the small hardcover book kept in the inner pocket of his frayed and tattered jacket, Naruto blinked away the moisture bleeding the sharp edges away from his vision as a calloused thumb traced the soft edges of the pretty young girl smiling back up at him. Recognizing that his failure hurt more than just himself this time, his face tightened up briefly into a rictus of pain.

There were three faces in the photo, each one slightly behind and above the one in front as they stood single-file before his favorite place of all time, Ichiraku's Ramen. Akimi's auburn-draped head had leaned back just enough to rest her curls on his collarbone while Ayame hung off his right shoulder with one arm, her other limb holding up a boisterous "peace sign" just over his left deltoid. Naruto inadvertently blushed crimson at the memory of the older girl's chest pressed against his shoulder blades, a fleeting memory summarily crushed in an acidic rush of shame and disappointment. He'd made a real mess of things today, not that Akimi would know after tonight.

After tonight, if he succeeded, he planned to vanish from Konoha's warm summer days never to be seen again. This was his last chance after all.

~Earlier that Day Outside of the Academy (Flashback No Jutsu) ~

'A shinobi is one who endures…'

Naruto was pacing like a caged animal under the large maple just across the street from the academy entrance, his breaths coming in short angry bursts that flared his nostrils and constricted the corners of his nearly non-existent eyes.

'A shinobi is at all times centered and calm, economical of effort and efficient in execution.'

His head snapped up as he completed another lap around the old swing that had been his mental balm year after year in this his personal purgatory. His exceptionally keen ears were steadfastly refusing to block out the boastful cheers and hateful jeers from the "normals" exiting his former academic stomping grounds. He wanted so desperately to punch them all in their smug faces and watch their helicopter parents spiral out of the air as they crashed and burned.

He'd seen pictures of the ancient flying machines in a history book once and felt the analogy accurate no matter how stupid flying in a large metal deathtrap seemed at the time.

'A shinobi is one with their…'

"Screw that! Get out of my head!" he hissed out.

Naruto's clawed hands found their way into the spiky locks making up his golden crown of hair and began pulling. In the deep recesses of his mind, a disgruntled inner monologue was storming off muttering under his breath about ungrateful gakis and vowing to never reveal the ultimate superhero theme song he'd been working diligently on. It might have been his inner turmoil and shock at even having an inner monologue that finally tuned him out completely from his surroundings. Perhaps it was the angry hissing of air through his teeth as he tried to turn his head into a monk's bald pate was why he never heard the silver-blue headed Chunin approach.

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself Naruto. You did surprisingly well today." Mizuki-sensei's sudden appearance snapped the blond out of his spiraling funk but did nothing to lift his chin from the new indention in the boy's chest made by his own lowered chin.

"I failed. Always with the same problem but I still tanked it." The boy was staring with glazed-over eyes as the wooden swing swayed in the breeze just out of arm's reach.

"Bah! You would have passed if they hadn't changed the rules on the Bunshin this year, again." The taller Chunin leaned over just enough to see the hateful flicker in the eyes of the demon bra-… failed academy student and smiled darkly. The spark was there just below the surface. All he needed to do was hook him, fan the flames, then reel him in.

'Two birds with one stone,' the older man hungrily whispered to himself.

For his part, Naruto played the angry victim to a tee. Three years running, the instructors felt the need to "revamp" the ninjutsu portion of the exam on short notice. His difficulty with the low-powered E-rank jutsu was not a secret. His own classmates made sure to lord the recurring failure over the future Hokage and virtually reveled in his recurring defeat.

Two days before his first crack at the final two years before, all of the homeroom teachers announced that they could no longer graduate having properly demonstrated two of the three approved jutsu techniques. To pass, they would have to successfully demonstrate all three since successful application of each constituted the bare minimum proficiency to allow access to the shinobi world. Two decades since the last curriculum change and they decide to refresh things now? No matter how much chakra Naruto used, he could not get his Bunshin to not look like a deflated festival float.

It was his first bitter defeat at the hands of his dreaded nemesis.

His second defeat arrived the following year. Having discovered that he could get passable results by using the same amount of chakra and spamming four dozen copies of himself, hope bloomed in his chest thinking this would be his year. Not more than two weeks later a new revision landed hot off the academy presses stating that, in order to help refine student chakra control, hopefuls taking the final exam would be limited to no more than three clones and would be graded on jutsu aesthetics. Instructors would grade things such as seal speed and conservation of chakra, criteria that highlighted poor levels of control usually represented by excess levels of smoke when the clones exploded into existence (the more smoke you made, the more chakra you wasted).

Naruto had never been able to make less than two dozen clones at a pop so, with that monolithic proclamation from the hellish academy administrators, his second failure and associated re-matriculation of the hateful academy syllabus was all but assured. Hateful fact that it was, it was his reality and the Kyuubi vessel hated the smirking teacher that reminded him of that blistering failure and the snide group of bastards that engineered it.

Shaking his head violently at the resentful snickers of the academy staff traipsing by, Naruto looked up for the first time to lock stares with the gently smiling Mizuki-sensei invading his personal space. In the back of his mind, a tiny voice was raging that he shouldn't trust this man, the same man that glared spitefully whenever he thought Naruto wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. The same instructor that subtly worked to handicap his education in the combative arts of his chosen profession. Despite those warning flags, he opened up enough to engage the closet Kyuubi hater so he could at least get to the bottom of why the jerk was here to begin with.

"What can I do for you, Mizuki? As you can see I'm pretty busy today… schedule just chock-a-block full of important meetings and such." Anger and annoyance flashed ever so briefly across the older man's eyes before it just as quickly evaporated to be replaced by a saccharine smile that made the boy shiver.

Instead, the man snorted in his habitually snide fashion and turned to walk away.

"And here I thought, as one of the authorized recruiting agents, I was doing you a favor by bringing you the invitation to join the ANBU ranks. I see that was a crucial error in judgement on my part." With the taller man's back to the now shell-shocked boy, Mizuki couldn't see his response in the slightest. Truth be told, he didn't need to as the emotion-filled voice called out to his retreating form before he'd gone two steps in any random direction.

To be honest, he hadn't planned on walking more than a step once he spit out that last teaser.

"I need to be an active shinobi before anyone would take me. Your offer doesn't make sense!" Despite the boy being absolutely correct, Mizuki grinned like a Cheshire cat. The demon's desperation was palpable.

"In most cases you would be correct. There are notable exceptions, like Itachi Uchiha, who was drafted directly into the ANBU."

"Itachi was a prodigy that few had seen." The blond's head rotated back to the ground dejectedly. "I don't have the same skills that he did." Mizuki's grin only widened further.

"Hey, don't take my word for it. I was just directed to make the offer and see if you were interested in joining the ranks. Apparently, someone thinks the years they spent chasing you around Konoha during your pranking sprees were worth something but, then again, what do I know?" He started walking again.

"Mizuki-sensei, wait. Please." Mizuki relished that the proper respect and title returned to the demon's speech this time. Oh, he was also going to relish this night above all others.

"Do I need to do anything to accept the offer?"

Mizuki composed himself quickly and toned down his eerie grin. "Funny you should ask that, Naruto. The ANBU have a special audition for prospective gains, one I think you shouldn't have any issues with…"

~Back on the Roof of Naruto's Apartment (Flashback No Jutsu - Kai!), 3 Hrs 15 Mins Before Go-Time ~

He had to be smart about this. The ANBU were tough despite all the grief he gave them before retiring his pranking equipment. He couldn't afford to drop the ball this time. The Old Man couldn't save him or console him if he failed again.

This time he had to be perfect.

With each failure he'd been summoned before his adoptive grandfather to suffer through conciliatory plaudits on his lackluster attempts to graduate. Each time his growing fears of a greater conspiracy to hold him back (and his inability to hold the equivalent attention span of a broccoli spear) prevented him from truly taking in his partial guardian's encouragement or convincing the ancient shinobi that there were greater forces at play in keeping him back from his fated achievement of super Hokage-dome (odd how that sounded vaguely like that glassy-eyed, fate-ranting bastard from his class the previous year). After all, none of the other kids had books that talked about the Nidaime still being the current Hokage.

He did walk away from that first session with what the "old man" had called an early graduation present, one of which was currently held in his left hand as he glanced down to the cherished keepsake.

In Naruto's hand was the well-worn cover of his favorite book, Tales of a Gutsy Ninja by Jiraiya of the Sannin, its heavily dog-eared pages very familiar to the clanless orphan as his thumb absently stroked the partially-frayed spine. Fearless tales of daring-do etched upon his very soul, Naruto identified with the plucky shinobi in more ways than just their matching nom de famille; they were both named Naruto after all and they were fierce protectors of the same noble nindo.

Neither one would give up or betray a comrade willingly. Furthermore, if he gave his word - come hell or high water, he stuck by it. It was just his way.

The other item was also a book, some cheesy how-to manual apparently penned by the Yondaime on how to be a better shinobi. He'd stuffed it away in his apartment after glancing through the first chapter before snorting derisively when it started bad mouthing "unhealthy" foods like ramen. Anything that slandered the holy nectar of the gods didn't deserve any more attention that being a doorstop or, better yet, propping up his coffee table corner. Oddly enough, that's exactly where he left it until he sealed up all of his possessions into the handful of storage scrolls the Old Man had given him at the beginning of his academy stint. In fact, he'd almost left it there until he noticed it earlier tonight. I mean, it was a gift and all…

With a heavy sigh, the boy glanced down once again at his favorite bookmark lamenting happier days and promises of a brighter future. Looking at the timestamp, the Kyuubi vessel's sigh fluttered the picture like a banner as the message of his core belief seemed more fragile than ever, almost as if the faintest breeze would shatter it to a million glittering pieces.

"I'm sorry Akimi. I let us down, but I'll make it right. I promise."

Bubbling up from his throat unbidden, his grunting chuckle never reached his zombie-like orbs finally cleared of cluttering moisture and heated emotion. Who was he kidding? It's not like she'd even remember him in a few years with Koaru-san hanging all over her. Clearly their childish dream born from their joint time at the orphanage had fallen away leaving him the sole holocaust survivor. Bitter, bitter resentment like poisonous bile began to rise up before he could reign in the anger. He wouldn't dwell on it anymore. He wouldn't. It's not like she was truly his to begin with.

He could not... would not hate her for following her heart, fickle muscle that it was. Naruto's sole focus had been obtaining Genin-hood and, despite their rose-tinted dream ending, a female heart could only take so much abandonment or time away that he stubbornly justified as necessary. He needed that time so that he could train in peace for his upcoming greatness.

Enter now the dashing knight in the form of one Koaru Aono, fellow orphan apprenticed to and adopted by the Konoha branch of Aono carpenters and the latest source of Naruto's current hate-filled rage binge.

He had a fair shot to make her happy, to keep her safe, and he blew it like he'd blown his chances at the academy. It was his fault, not hers. He couldn't rightly hate her for…

His calloused hand transformed into a claw and started to close on the photo as he ruthlessly stomped on those feelings and memories. As the glossy paper crinkled in the quiet night air of the slums, a flash of pain shot through his heart seizing up his entire musculature. In hindsight, and with the shedding of a single tear, he smoothed out the crumpled glossy as best he could by rubbing the cherished image across the darker fabric of his newest tee shirt (purchased for this very night) before replacing the heirloom in its sanctuary of book-bound paper and tangelo-tinted fabric.

Even society's outcasts are entitled to their shattered dreams.

'I will be the greatest Hokage ever! You'll see! Then we'll live happily ever after! Believe it!' His eyes flickered to the fading specter of his past as it streaked off into the night in a translucent nightmare of kill-me-now orange. Kami how he hated the color.

Looking down at his trusty jumpsuit, any and all pride at being able to dress himself given the ridiculously overpriced barricades Konoha flung in his face at every turn vanished in the quickly cooling night air. In unflinching retrospection, he used to adore the color and wore it with pride, even throughout his aggressive pranking years, especially given that ANBU never caught him while wearing it. He fiercely protected it through his first three years in the academy… that is until one tragic discovery fatalistically mentally-chained the outfit to every prisoner entombed in the deepest, dankest bowels of ANBU Central.

Hokage-jiji may have relegated the experience to scaring him straight, however, the revelation only cemented his conspiracy-like proclamation that every merchant in Konoha was a bastard-in-waiting out to ruin him.

Every prisoner in the ANBU vault wore the identical outfit. For the then pre-incarceration-bound pranking recidivist, the reveal mirrored some grim family reunion forecast. It was a forecast Naruto had zero intention of fulfilling if he could at all avoid it. Conversely, there was one silver lining; the experience solidified his (still developing) personal belief that fear was infinitely better than any respect he'd never earn in Konoha as Hokage.

Tonight, for the last time, he'd don the orange nightmare just to earn their attention. ANBU were the apex predators and, if he could pull this off wearing this orange blight upon the ass of the world, he'd win their respect...well, maybe just a little anyway. On second thought, advertising his criminal activities seemed more like the unnecessary bravado that got stupid criminals caught. He opted for plan B and spent ten minutes switching out to his stealth outfit before returning to the roof.

ANBU weren't dumb or cocky and an orange jumpsuit implied both.

ANBU weren't loved, they were respected. ANBU weren't reviled - unless you were a criminal, they were feared. It was etched into the face of every prisoner the Hokage pointed out to him. Like a rabbit flinching before the gaze of a wolf preparing to shred its throat, the reflexive seizure displayed by each and every villain as the ghost-like apparitions floated wordlessly before the Hokage and his self-appointed grandson screamed "eureka!" to the impressionable youth. Their fear was tangible, thick and rancid with their sweat and filth like some miasma of depression he could literally taste.

In that brief moment of self-alliteration Naruto saw himself as he existed just before entering the academy. He saw his own emotionally-abused fear of villagers and the rush of revulsion nearly gagged him in those dimly-lit corridors.

The Hokage clumsily accepted the small child's reaction as a "job well done," a gluttonous-satisfaction filling the old man's smile, a warm glow clearly bathing the ancient warrior's wrinkled and parchment-like skin. Naruto observed every emotional tick as his daily survival was dependent solely upon his ability to accurately judge human intent through a physical manifestation of emotion. It's how he knew which vendors he could and could not steal from when he was penniless and starving.

He would do nothing to dissuade the kind old man, but his rudder shifted almost imperceptibly from the highest office of the esteemed bastion of morale fortitude that was Konoha to the deadliest trenches of its silent killers.

If he could not rule with honor and accolades, he would thrive in the shadows as one of the phantom-like elites. He would become ANBU and strive for status among the crème de la crème in the ANBU Black Ops. He just needed an invitation since you couldn't just volunteer to become a member, which Mizuki-sensei had conveniently provided – a troubling fact still nibbling at the back of his brain. Coincidentally, that resolution brought him painfully back to the present and his latest failure.

Monday he would need to turn in his student ID. Apparently, you were only allowed three chances to make the cut and he'd flopped horribly. Naruto was sure the Council were drunk off their asses by this point celebrating his monumental failure. He'd be a civilian for the rest of his life and they would remain his keepers. Jiji couldn't help him now and the Clan Heads wouldn't lift a finger in his stead. They hadn't before so why start now? No, if anything he had just this one last chance to break free of their oppression. Just one more shot…

Hands clasped tight enough to squeeze the blood from his fingers, Naruto's arms flexed directly above his head as he reveled in the luxurious popping sensations along his spine. Like a hissing steam valve, the euphoric ebbing of his body snapping into its natural alignment brought a jubilant smirk to his lips. Pausing to deliberately twist his face over his right shoulder, he called out into the shadows of the nearest rooftop.

"You gonna come out and talk or are you just gonna stare at me for the rest of the night? That's rude y'know?"

His nostrils twitched but not in irritation. The familiar smell of dango, sake and snake hide assaulted his nose and the boy inhaled deeply almost as if he were trying to memorize the combination or breathe in some potent floral bouquet. Once he heard the fine armor plates of her body armor clinking in his over-efficient ears, his arms flopped to his sides with a lazy slap and his eyes turned back to the street below and the brightly colored lights of the Cherry Blossom. He'd have to say goodbye to Madame Ai once the time came to set off.

"How ya holdin' up, Gaki?" A pair of lean shoulders bounced noncommittally in response. She wasn't surprised that he found her. She hadn't been particularly careful approaching him from upwind; she wanted to assess his mental state not spook him.

"Can't complain, Anko-nee." Tilting his head dramatically in her direction so that he could look up into a gorgeous pair of milk chocolate eyes, the grossly underage boy shot the Amazonian beauty his best roguish grin and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Not that anyone else would care anyway."

Despite her best effort, the svelte kunoichi snorted uncontrollably as her armored abdomen contracted in time with her bouncing shoulders. Seven years his senior as well as despised by almost every other Konohan and this child continued to flirt with her as part of some on-going gag. Part of her wondered if he would keep it up once he was old enough to legally appreciate the female body. Part of her hoped he'd give up before he discovered there was more to it than good-natured roleplay. She saw him as a brother worth watching over long after his ANBU protection detail had been removed and hated the thought of his affection for her well-being turning toxic like everything else in his life.

The gaki had suffered enough in her opinion.

"Still tough as nails, eh?" Her eyes took in his profile as his face pivoted back to the brothel just up the block checking for nervous ticks or flashes of emotion to indicate stress or desperation. He was going to be a civilian come Monday and that was going to put one hell of a dent in his Hokage dream. Unfortunately, the child was a block of ice for all she could tell.

"Only way to make it is day by day, believe it!" he all but roared.

She saw his chest expand quickly, heard the forced rush of air as his fingers alternatively flexed and clenched. One slender eyebrow noted the metal-trimmed gloves as the attentive combatant filed away his pensive posture. Those were definitely new. He was preparing himself for…something.

"Working tonight, Anko-nee?" In answer, the gorgeous purplette donned her mask pausing as the chakra anchors secured it to her face. "Be safe for me. I can't lose you too."

At this she did pause even as her eyes softened beneath her ANBU security blanket. Morbid wasn't like him so she huffed out her usual reply of, "Pfft! I'm too sexy to get taken out, Gaki. Thought I taught you better?"

She took careful note of how hollow his laughter sounded and spent a few more minutes studying his every tick. He was standing a bit too still for her liking. He was usually a ball of unending energy and it was noticeably missing now.

His one-time guardian reached out and affectionately ruffled the sun-kissed mop of unruly hair before leaning in and touching the seal-reinforced forehead of her porcelain mask to his brain case. Through the angled slits of her mask, Anko Mitarashi watched as the bluest eyes she'd ever known dimmed just before eyelids sealed them from the world. She held their modified embrace as her adopted brother inhaled deeply one last time. His enhanced senses were a "family secret" they shared so his attempt to memorize Anko's scent was both oddly comforting and eerily disconcerting at the same time. It was almost as if he wasn't expecting to…

When Naruto opened his eyes again, she was gone. Just like that, the drudgery respite receded taking along with it the flood of endorphins that always accompanied Anko's presence...and the overly-sweet smile he'd been forcing onto his face to keep her at ease. He chuckled mirthlessly. Endorphins was a big word for him.

With another snide titter, Naruto muttered a terse, "To hell with it," and leapt off the roof of his apartment. He finished all the prepping he could at this point so stalling any longer wouldn't do anyone any good. There was sneaking to be done and he aimed to be about it.

One final pat to the holsters on both thighs and the extra pouch on his belt confirmed all the necessary tools about his wiry person. The bulky potato sack of a jumpsuit did much to hide his lean frame while allowing for the odd growth spurt but his stealth suit clung just enough not to make unnecessary noise. Best of all, the heavy material was good for a variety of environments so multi-tasking wasn't horrifically difficult. The orange beast served to point him out in spectacular fashion when hiding wasn't the name of the game; the charcoal grey of his badass sneaking kit made him all but a walking ghost. It made him look the part.

As he strolled past the Cherry Blossom storefront, the bevy of gorgeous women standing outside waved, cat-called and blew kisses to the budding shinobi… all in good nature of course.

He was their protector after all.

Once he got close enough, the "Ladies" as he called them, swarmed him in a cloud of daintily-perfumed bodies, arms, stomachs, and bosoms swamping him in a frenzy of pressed flesh as they steered him inside. Taking a deep breath right before his hand gripped the pull ring, Naruto slid the well-maintained slab of hardwood aside and entered the den of sin determined to make his final farewells as quickly as possible.

Maemae, the twenty-something hostess smiled down to their regular visitor turning her attention briefly from the rather hulking doorman as she gently stroked his whiskered cheek. She knew how much that affected him and seemed to enjoy tormenting the stoic orphan at every opportunity. She also secretly enjoyed the way it made him purr like a cat. She casually mentioned that they had plenty of steamed veggies and beef shanks that every growing shinobi needed as he slipped on past her and into the building proper.

He flashed another brilliant smile to hide the surge of pain.

Naruto took the good-natured petting in stride and gently pushed her hands away as he strode purposely into the ground-floor office nestled into the rear of the large drinking saloon. With his breath leaking out in measured hisses, Naruto's eyes found the gracefully-aging madame at her personal table near the bar and jogged into her open arms for the familiar embrace of his adopted obaa-chan. He was just hoping to make good his escape before his air ran out and he'd need to take a reconstituting breath.

Madame Ai, on the one hand, knew about the child's incredibly sensitive sense of smell. Every lady in the place knew and, with the exception of Lily who, for some reason enjoyed torturing the child she couldn't legally sink her fangs into…yet, the kind Madame had gone to extreme measures to tone down the normally suffocating levels of perfumes and incense commonplace among houses of ill-repute. From frequent bathing of the girls to softer floral scents and closed-off personal chambers, they'd made changes to encourage his presence in the most profitable night den of the district.

They kept it through a pretty shrewd business arrangement by sharing a small portion of the profits in exchange for him "policing the regulars."

She knew how the other guild establishments cheated him, so the Madame had no issues with taking care of him "off the books" with the occasional healthy meal (when those fat bastards tried to bleed his monthly stipend dry) and small cash infusions (for his help with sick perverts). There were clear benefits to keeping the bijuu vessel on your side.

Now the good Madame knew he couldn't contend with mature shinobi being a student and all but the shinobi of Konoha were pretty good about policing their own. For the most part, Naruto helped to police the morally ambiguous thugs and lowlifes through creative application of his academy studies and that worked just fine for the women of the Blossom. Incidents of abuse from and among the clientele plummeted over the three years he'd been watching over the adjacent alleys and such diligence had endeared him to the staff. Getting hamstrung by a razor-sharp kunai in some dismal alley was always good incentive to behave regardless of who or where it came from.

It didn't take long for the dirt-bags to realize that only the ones roughing up the Madame's girls had run-ins with the demon child.

Container of the Kyuubi? She couldn't have cared less. He was just as much an outcast as they were. Would a demon protect her girls? Would a demon have come to her rescue last year when an angry client evicted by her security stalked her one fine Konoha afternoon? As far as Madame Ai was concerned, Konoha was full of idiots looking to make the boy into the demented killer they all feared and imagined he was. Her girls, on the other hand, had nothing to fear from the bijuu container and, as she released him from her vice-like embrace, her hands gently clamped on to his cheeks as she pressed her lips to his blushing forehead.

She was going to miss him and the pained smile on her heavily powdered face showed as much. Sliding a comfortably-full envelope across her table into his innocent looking hands, the hands holding the gentleness of a child and not a trained killer despite her knowing better, Madame Ai kept the smile on her face as he bowed and backed away before turning around and trotting out of her drinking parlor. More than warm meals, extra cash, a safe haven when the villagers devolved into idiots on his birthday, she was going to miss his company.

She'd been reading people far to long to see this as anything other than an old friend saying goodbye. Bystanders at the bar years later would swear to have heard her heart break as the scruffy-looking blond walked out of the establishment without another backwards glance. The tough madame would deny the pain of losing her little blond samurai to her dying day as she watched his back get swallowed by the dismal night of the slums in search of his dream.

Naruto smiled politely but otherwise ignored the friendly pats and passing palms that stroked his hair and face. He was going to miss the Ladies of The Cherry Blossom. He'd miss the teasing, but he had work to do.

Instead, now back out onto the rocky and unevenly paved roads of the district he called home, the container of the world's most powerful bijuu took once again to the rooftops and streaked across town to the southern edge of the Market District and his favorite hangout of all time.

Passing over shanties and rickety tenements like the one he'd spent the last nine years calling home, the pupils of his eyes opened reflexively to take in more light after leaving in his wake the garish illumination of the brothels. More than a couple of the masked shadows observing his passing shuddered at the eerie blue glow caused by the focusing of all available light into his unnatural orbs. Naruto merely smiled sorry that they couldn't see the equally abnormal fanged maw right below his eyes.

'Oh well…'

Alighting on the roof of a convenient two-story, Naruto sidled up next to the chimney stones and leaned lazily against the stack. His eyes peered down and across the street to Ichiraku's conveniently situated as it was at a y-street junction. From his altitude, the banners kept him from seeing the owners of the odd pairs of legs wrapped around what he knew to be comfortable bar stools, but he could hear just fine. Especially since there was a lot to hear as the entire village seemed to have turned out to celebrate the academy's latest batch of graduates. He even saw more than a few of his former classmates wandering about in the swelling tide of revelry.

Closing his eyes to help focus out ambient distractions, he settled in for a quick listen.

~Inside Ichiraku's Ramen Stand, 2 Hours 45 Minutes Before Go-Time ~

"I don't get it, Ayame. He should be here by now." The younger girl was forcefully stacking bowls in a plastic basket and using a warm rag to wipe tables with the vigor of a sumo wrestler.

"Give him time, Akimi. He's had a pretty rough day," Ayame chirped out despite the strain at keeping up the easy-going façade. Teuchi simply grunted like a caveman over by the large metal vats used to simmer the broth for their famous ramen dishes. It did little to ease the auburn-haired woman's apprehension.

"You know it's more than that. He hasn't been coming around in the evenings anymore. I-I don't ever get to see him since…" Both Ayame and her father winced sympathetically. Kimi-chan had been a blessing when they took her on as staff and Naruto had never been happier. If the two hadn't known better, you could have sworn Naruto was destined to be her soulmate as much as they talked about future plans and happy prospects of family life and love. Akimi wasn't old enough to take a surname yet as she still had a few more years before the orphanage would force her out but the old man had hoped she'd take the Uzumaki title in due time. Naruto had been the odd duck seeing as the Yondaime had personally given him the last name after…

Now neither one of those was a memory worth dredging up. It was a shame really and now on top of that to throw his recent defeat at the academy into the mix. Teuchi sighed as he turned away from the angst-filled conversation between Kimi-chan and his daughter not wanting to add fuel to the oven burner. He'd spotted walking into his restaurant the young man responsible for his best customer evaporating into thin air, and, despite liking the boy on a personal level, he just couldn't reconcile the end result. The many overjoyed customers coming in to boast and brag about his favorite blond failing the final graduation exam for the third and final time had just taken too much of a toll on his normally bright customer service smile.

~Across the Street from Ichiraku's Ramen Stand, 2 Hours 40 Minutes Before Go-Time ~

Naruto lifted off of the dusty chimney stones as the smarmy male's voice called out to his best fr… called out to Kimi-chan. He'd heard enough anyway and leapt off into the night angling his path back to the northwest. The many ongoing celebrations tonight would be a big help.

Before too long he settled down into a crouch staring across the street before him at a very familiar building situated near the heart of Konohagakure, the Hokage Tower.

High above the tumultuous night life of Konoha, Naruto hunkered down three roofs away from the Hokage Mansion complex consisting of the main tower, the academic wing, and the mansion proper, waiting patiently while the lower lights began to flicker out one by one. If everything went according to plan, he'd pass this initiation and begin serious training with his real heroes and not have to deal with those posers from his former class. No more hiding his true face behind a mask of lies. Soon enough he'd have a real mask to hide the pain of his life.

It was worth the wait. Absent-mindedly dragging a single digit across his upper lip, his legs tensed briefly and he prepared one last time to get moving.

~Inside the Hokage Mansion, in the Mission Room, 5 Minutes Before Go-Time ~

"…I'm serious Hokage-sama. He wasn't right in the head. The boy was too calm after what he's been through today." Hiruzen Sarutobi, the most powerful shinobi in their entire village was puttering about as the mission assignment office was shutting down for the night. He was multi-tasking, ever the adept administrator working through his personal checklist while holding multiple conversations with people seeking his signature on daily mission tallies, the next day's mission priorities, and Anko's desperate plea to have Naruto locked up for observation until they could crack whatever evil plot was hatching in his juvenilistic mind.

"Naruto is stronger than you think, Anko. I'm sure you're just overreacting given your history with the boy." Anko's face did a fair imitation of a wrinkled raisin in her annoyance. "Besides, he hasn't pulled a single prank in what...almost two years? You will see. He'll come see me again tomorrow like he always does and we'll find a solution to the problem…like we always do."

"I have to disagree this time, Hokage-sama." She stopped short as the bustling senior citizen stopped abruptly to spin about and glare down at her in all his perturbed glory (which caused her to jerk to a quick stop), but she didn't back down. She blushed… quite a bit, but persisted nonetheless. "He wasn't angry. He wasn't being snotty and planning revenge through some stupid prank. He was standing quietly on his roof looking out at the village almost as if he was expecting someone to show up then leave so he could get on with what he had planned. It ain't normal for the gaki," she spat out in a rush.

The Hokage gave one heavy sigh as he looked down into the young lady's pensive gaze before responding. "I spoke with him shortly after he left the academy and Naruto seemed well adjusted. I think he may pleasantly surprise you."

Anko readily snorted her disbelief.

"I firmly believe that you're panicking unnecessarily, however, I will send a two-man squad first thing in the morning to prove it." When Anko's face began to swell up with oxygen, he acted swiftly and decisively. "Unless you plan to stalk him yourself, that's the best I'll offer." The old man lifted his chin imperiously in an attempt to bluff her out and ended up trapped in a drawn-out chin lift battle, which he naturally won as the ruling shinobi.

Signing his final documents and wishing Iruka a good night, the old man filed away the female ANBU's concern about his surrogate grandson and trudged up the stairs back to his office for one last task. It couldn't hurt to take a quick look in the crystal ball… could it?

~Outside the Hokage Mansion on a Nearby Rooftop, Go-Time ~

Naruto waited until Anko leapt away and counted to fifteen before he moved a muscle. His eyes took in the two sentries on the ground level and the three hovering around the Hokage on the second level where he did a lot of the mission work. It was now or never.

Pushing chakra to the soles of his feet, the former Orange Bomber slipped back away from the street edge to the next alley running parallel to the main street crossing in front of the Mansion. At the edge of the roof, his feet snapped to the horizontal plane so that the treads of his sandals could provide enough traction to slow his descent to the dusty earth below. Immediately dashing to his left, he crossed over one full block before cutting back and across the main thoroughfare.

Not even pausing to see if the quietly chatting door guards noticed his mad dash, his feet touched down just long enough to launch his body skyward to the nearest rooftop. Pushing off in the direction of the tower now directly to his left, Naruto roof-hopped until he crested the building next to the tower before planting both feet on the stone ledge using his bullet-like momentum to pop his trajectory up onto the domed roof of the central spire. Freezing for another ten-count, he padded softly to the edge of the dome and dropped down to the balcony on the back side of the Hokage's office. Pausing again to make sure the only sound within twenty yards was his own labored breathing, Naruto slipped into the window whose lock he'd jammed up earlier in the afternoon during his last-minute visit to the Hokage following his third failure.

~III~

Omake: In for a Penny, In for the Whole Pound of Flesh

Ten-year-old Naruto Uzumaki knew something was wrong when he approached the entrance to The Blossom and he didn't see Maemae out front amongst all of the other "girls," who seemed to be in full panic mode. Their sweat and fear were obliterating the heavy perfume auras making them stink worse than that other smell he normally picked up from them. She welcomed him every night unless she was entertaining a "friend" so her not being there wasn't odd. It was the fact that the other girls were very nervous and none of them would tell him when she was coming back that made the hairs on his neck stand up like porcupine quills.

Moving inside as he was wont to do, Naruto tried to breathe shallowly and moved in to the larger drinking room to find obaa-chan, Madame Ai. He found her normal seat but her odd-shaped upside-down triangle glass and really long cigarette were both left unattended. That foul-smelling contraption was never far from its owner and the fact that both the drink and the cigarette stem were ownerless glued him to the floor as a growing sense of fear started eating away at his guts.

"It's a shame that the stalker is focusing on Ai-chan's place." Naruto's head snapped around to stare at the backs of two casually speaking adults. "She has a nice place…some really pretty girls." His eyes flickered from the long mane of white hair and the green haori to the man's drinking buddy whose gravity-defying silver head was bobbing up and down sagely.

"Maybe they'll catch the bastard after what he did to the girl." His neighbor, the one that spoke first, merely grunted in agreement. "She was one of the sweetest of the bunch."

"Yeah… too bad for her but I hope she pulls through." Naruto didn't know why that conversation scared him, but he had the strongest urge to go find Maemae. Spinning on his heels, the shinobi in training darted out of the parlor and hung a sharp left which he knew would lead him to the back stairwell and up to his adopted sister's room.

It was easy to get to since everyone seemed to be in a panic and he was a very small moving target. With all of the other garish colors and dim lighting, his nearly-neon jumpsuit blended right in as natural camouflage. Before he knew it, the small figure was standing next to her door listening and observing patiently as people were darting in and out of the room, others talking hurriedly. Naruto could see some of the girls rushing about carrying bundles of bloody rags and bandages. He could also see others scurrying back in with large bowls of hot water and more clean towels.

Aside from the anti-septic aromas trying to scourge his nose – an unpleasant scent that he associated with hospitals, he picked up the distinct metallic tang of fresh blood. Lots of it. It was a very familiar smell as he'd been jumped a few times by bullies in his neighborhood and was quite familiar with the aroma. It was one such instance which had introduced him to Maemae as she jumped in to defend him from a small batch of thugs last year. As close as he was to the door of her room, it was easy to pick up the frantic whispers of people trying to patch up someone moaning in pain. They were so focused on what they were doing that none of them paid him any mind. So, he peeked around the corner when a particularly loud hiss made him perk up in worry.

That was Maemae's voice.

What he saw next scarred him deeply. Maemae was being held down on her bed while several of the older ladies tried to bandage her up and clean away the blood from her face and naked body. Some of it was leaking from her side. She'd been stabbed and beaten, the deep bruises marring her very soft skin. He could see a green glow around the hands of one of the older ladies and the trail of blood was slowing to a dribble, but it didn't matter. The fact that she was bleeding at all shocked him more than seeing her exposed breasts and battered ribs. His eyes were locked onto hers, well… the one that was still open anyway, and her split and bleeding lip. His heart dropped to his feet as the entire world swirled to a miserable pinpoint of light.

It was during a particularly painful hiss that made Mae's body convulse, lifting her off the mattress while she cried out, that their eyes met. She had seen him and froze as her one working hazel eye locked onto the boy's own royal blues. Even as everyone was frantically yelling at her to lay down so they could finish healing her, she croaked out one word, a single name through gritted teeth, and everyone else in the room took notice of him for the first time.

"N-Naruto…kun."

Everything was a blur after that. He vaguely remembered Madame Ai's voice as she bellowed for someone to get him back downstairs. His last image was Maemae's good eye as a tear slid down her face before someone snatched him up and hustled him back to the first floor, his face pressed into a soft chest as strong arms swept him away in the moment's frenzy. By the time soft hands were stroking his face and asking if he was okay while trying to convince him not to worry, all he could do was numbly mumble and nod his head, the image of his favorite friend at The Blossom in such pain burned irrevocably into his head. He could almost taste the blood the smell was so strong. It as he was trying to scrub the smell from his nostrils with the back of his hand, and failing, that he realized that the bloody smell was outside as well. His trusty snooter had missed it earlier but now it was far too clear to miss a second time.

He inhaled once. Yup. It was weaker outside, but it was still fresh.

He inhaled a second time and started walking around, his eyes roaming every surface he could find until he saw a few red spots leading from the porch to the nearest corner. Sniffing every few steps eyes scouring the alley for additional spots of bright crimson, Naruto eventually found himself standing at the end of a smaller artery between another pair of ramshackle apartment buildings. As his eyes tracked the sporadic flecks of his friend's life, they very quickly noted the flaring dot of orange light pulsing with each inhale at the lips of a respectably-dressed male resting on a trash container. The burning embers of the man's cigarette trembled with his shaking hands but never overpowered the familiar smell of Maemae's blood.

The trail led directly to him.

Naruto was shocked. He expected to see some deranged psychopath, perhaps a hulking behemoth decked out in spiky leather maniacally scraping the blood off his knuckles with his pierced tongue. What he saw didn't match up at all.

Oh, his shaky hands were bruised and bloody, which was to be expected, but that's where the similarities to his horrific fantasy ended. The man wasn't much bigger than the ten-year old, a dark-haired businessman wearing tidy robes with a full head of dark hair and immaculately-groomed facial hair. He couldn't see his eyes from his current distance, even with his unnaturally-sharp eyesight, due to the freakish reflection on the man's glasses, but they weren't glowing with some demonic pulse. He looked normal… unless you noticed the still dripping knife gripped possessively in his left hand, another oddity.

Maemae's scent rolled off of him and the blade. Glancing back over his shoulder, Naruto could see the glow from The Blossom's lights at the end of the alleyway even as he turned back to the now still abuser. You'd think the man would have fled farther than he did before setting up camp but there he was big as life and soon Naruto started padding closer to the silent sociopath.

He wanted to ask him something. He had to know.

Stopping a half-dozen paces away, he opened his mouth only to have the fellow parrot his own question back to him.

"You want to know why I did it, don't you?" The road hazard tinted child could only nod while he waited with bated breath. The terse giggle he got in return only served to further unnerve the fledgling shinobi.

"Everyone wants to know why." Another giggle. "The answer is, 'none of your damn business!'" Now the giggling was turning into full-blown insanity as his face shot up to look at the night sky. "The wench deserved it… flaunting her wares like that! They all did!" Naruto, despite his growing anger, took an involuntary step back as the crazy man's eyes swiveled down from the ebony heavens to lock onto his latest visitor.

"Did you care for her?" Naruto nodded silently causing the blood-splattered psycho to giggle again. "Good…" his voice a sibilant hiss, "…perhaps you can mourn her when she passes." He paused just long enough to take in the boy's shocked face before the hideous laughter began to bubble up once more.

At that point, Naruto's world began to implode. His vision began to fade into a red tint around the edges, his sight compressing to a single point five meters in front of his shaking limbs. All he could see was the image of Maemae's broken and battered body as she writhed in agony because this sicko had an issue with prostitutes. With the thundering echo of his own heart in his ears, Naruto's vision ran blood red as an inhuman growl erupted from the back of his mind (If you've seen the original Ghostbuster's movie, think of the growl made by the demon dogs of Zuul) and past his snarling lips.

Apparently even homicidal lunatics can feel fear... and pain.

A/N: A slightly different take on Naruto's life and why he went after the Forbidden Scroll of Seals.

~Siva'a