The moon bathed Konoha in a pale glow. The streets were quiet, but an invisible tension hung in the air. Around a dark alley, a little blond-haired boy walked, head bowed.
Naruto Uzumaki. Barely eight years old, and already carrying a burden few adults could have borne.
Each step echoed in the silence, broken only by hushed whispers: "He's the monster..." "Don't look at him too much, he brings bad luck..."
The villagers' stares were sharper than kunai. Naruto felt them on his back, burning, accusing. He clenched his fists.
"Why... why does no one want me? What have I done?" he thought, biting his lip.
That evening, he tried to smile. As always. A forced, awkward smile. But he knew no one would see him, no one would believe it.
He walked to the old swing set near the Academy. The place where he took refuge whenever his heart bled too much. There, he sat, staring at the ground.
The wind gently fluttered the worn ropes.
Naruto looked up at the night sky. The stars were shining. He reached out a hand as if to grab them.—One day… one day, I will prove to them that I am not a monster…
But deep within his soul, a voice echoed. Deep. Powerful. Terrifying.—Don't lie to yourself, child… You know they will never accept you.
Naruto's eyes widened.—Who… who is there?!
A growl echoed in his mind, like the roar of a wild beast.—I am Kurama. The fox demon trapped within you. These humans fear you because they know what you're wearing... because they know you're different.
The boy trembled. His heart was pounding. "So... is it true? I'm really... a monster?"
A heavy silence. Then the voice continued, almost mocking. "Monster? No. You're a weapon. And a weapon is only valuable when it learns to fight."
Naruto lowered his head. For the first time, he didn't want to answer. Because deep down... he was afraid that voice was telling the truth.
The swing creaked softly. The night seemed to thicken around him.
Naruto, the boy with the lonely eyes, had just taken his first step towards a destiny that would shake the shinobi world.