In the streets of Konoha, the weather was growing colder.
Autumn was slowly arriving, and with it, even the last light seemed to be leaving the village. Many said that Konoha had changed since the Kyūbi's attack three years ago. The sun seemed to shine less often. The laughter in the streets had grown thinner. And not a few believed that the reborn Nine-Tails was to blame for turning the village into a place without warmth.
"Why doesn't the Third finally have him executed?" a woman muttered on the main street. "Then at least we could avenge the Fourth."
Some nodded.
Others merely stayed silent.
Between the stalls, where the shadows were longer, stood a small, thin child.
Too narrow.
Too quiet.
Too hungry.
When the people saw him, their faces twisted.
"Get lost, you monster!"
A merchant's kick struck the little body with full force.
Naruto was hurled to the ground.
An ugly crack could be heard as something in his body gave way.
"Genbei," another merchant said quietly, without any real pity in his voice, "you know we're not supposed to kill him. If you go too far, the ANBU will come."
Genbei threw his colleague Kihachi a dark look.
"If the Third can't do his job, then someone else will have to do it."
He was already lifting his foot for the next kick.
But this time, he did not get the chance.
A hand seized his leg and held it effortlessly in place.
An ANBU.
Silver hair.
A mask.
One eye covered.
His presence alone was enough to silence the street.
Genbei immediately felt cold sweat running down his back.
"The Third set a boundary," the ninja said calmly. "And that boundary is not one you should cross."
His voice was not loud.
That was precisely what made it threatening.
"As it looks," he continued, "I'll have to take you with me."
Genbei swallowed hard.
"I... I understand. We won't cross the line again."
The ninja's visible eye narrowed slightly. It almost looked as though he were smiling.
Then he let go of him.
After that, he stepped toward the child lying bleeding in the street.
Naruto barely lifted his head.
The ninja looked down at him.
"Hey, monster," he said coldly. "You've got no business being here. My master is dead because of you."
Naruto's body twitched.
"It's almost a good thing they threw you out of the orphanage," the ninja went on. "A few months... maybe a year or two on the streets will show whether you even deserve to live."
Then he turned away.
He kept walking.
And left the bleeding child lying in the street.
No one helped him.
No one said anything.
Only the wind moved through Konoha, cold and empty, as though even the village itself had decided not to look.
"Why am I even alive?"
The pain running through his small body wanted to make Naruto cry.
But he had already shed his last tear months ago.
On the day they threw him out of the orphanage.
Back then, Naruto had believed life there was hard.
Beatings every day.
Hunger every day.
And most of the time, only the scraps the other children did not want.
But even there, he had at least still had a roof over his head.
Now he lived on food that not even the animals in the alleys would touch.
Slowly, laboriously, he pulled himself upright.
His whole body hurt.
I can't stay here.
His thoughts were quiet. Tired. Lost.
Is Monster my name?
He frowned weakly.
But who names their child Monster?
A few staggering steps.
Where are my parents?
He swayed.
Or did I never have any?
The voices of the villagers were still echoing in his head.
They say my mother was a cheap whore.
Naruto did not even know what that meant.
What is a whore?
One step. Then another.
Where do I find her?
His lips trembled.
I only want what everyone else has.
Warmth.
The small body slowly began to move.
Away from the street.
Away from the stares.
Away from Konoha.
With uncertain steps, Naruto headed toward the forest.
Behind him, voices faded.
"Just stay in the woods and rot there!"
Naruto did not turn around.
He simply kept going.
In the tallest building in Konoha sat a man many called the God of Shinobi.
The Third Hokage.
Hiruzen Sarutobi.
Resting on the desk before him was a crystal ball. Inside it flickered the image of a small, injured boy staggering out of the village toward the forest.
Hiruzen slowly drew on his pipe.
The smoke rose lazily and vanished beneath the ceiling of his office.
"Mhm..." he murmured.
His gaze remained fixed on Naruto.
"It seems I should make contact with him in a week or two. Not too early. Not too late."
His voice was calm. Almost thoughtful.
"Right now he is still too raw. Too hurt. Too distrustful. But soon..."
A faint smile passed over his face.
"Soon he will reach for a light, if only one keeps it from him long enough."
He leaned back.
"Then I will be his sun."
His gaze narrowed.
"And from that gratitude will come loyalty. From loyalty, obedience."
For a moment, he was silent.
"You truly left me a useful tool, Minato."
His fingers rested calmly on the bowl of his pipe.
"A child with your bloodline, Kushina's legacy, and the Kyūbi within him... pliable enough to serve my family one day."
His voice grew softer.
Colder.
"If Asuma are meant to carry the future of this line, then yours must not continue, Minato."
At that moment, the door was abruptly pushed open.
Danzo Shimura entered without asking permission.
His gaze immediately fell on the crystal ball.
Then on Hiruzen.
"Give me the jinchūriki."
No greeting. No politeness.
Only a demand.
"Under Root, he will become a perfect weapon. Without doubt. Without weakness. Without sentimental baggage."
Hiruzen took the pipe from his mouth.
"No, Danzo."
His voice remained calm.
"That is not what Minato and Kushina would have wanted. They wanted him to love the village."
Danzo's one visible eye narrowed.
"Hiruzen," he said coldly, "you can lie to the village. You can lie to the council. Perhaps even to yourself."
He took one step forward.
"But not to me."
Silence stretched between the two men.
"You do not want a weapon," Danzo continued. "You want something more useful."
His voice did not drip with rage. It was worse than that.
It was certain.
"A puppet with a soul of its own. A tool that believes it serves willingly."
Hiruzen's gaze hardened.
Danzo kept looking at him.
"Just like Minato once did."
For a moment, no one said anything.
Then Hiruzen slowly set the pipe aside.
"I am the Hokage," he said quietly.
The sentence was not loud.
That was exactly why it had weight.
"And you are not."
His eyes remained fixed on Danzo.
"Get out of my office."
Danzo's jaw tightened.
"You..."
But he did not finish the sentence.
Instead, he turned and left the room.
The door shut behind him.
Silence returned.
Hiruzen looked back into the crystal ball.
There, Naruto was still dragging himself toward the forest.
Small. Bleeding. Alone.
"Run, then," Hiruzen murmured.
His face remained unreadable.
"In the end, even the abandoned return to the hand that promises them warmth."
When Naruto finally reached the forest, the hatred of the people no longer felt quite as crushing.
He did not know why.
But he could feel when people hated him.
Even across distance.
And in Konoha, they all hated him.
With all their hearts.
Here, near the river, he had found a small cave a few days ago. It was narrow, damp, and cold, but at least it offered some protection from rain and wind.
His trip into the village had brought him one thing, at least.
He had finally managed to steal a fire striker.
For Naruto, it was not theft.
He only knew that he would not survive the winter if he did not soon learn how to make fire.
And maybe...
maybe it would not be so bad if he did not survive the winter.
Then this life would finally come to an end.
His body still hurt from the merchants' attack.
Every movement pulled.
Every breath hurt.
But Naruto wanted only one thing.
Warmth.
So he knelt before the prepared wood and, with trembling hands, began trying to light the fire.
"Why doesn't this work more easily?" he murmured softly.
He remembered how effortlessly the caretaker at the orphanage had always managed it.
For Naruto, even that seemed like an art far beyond his reach.
Almost an hour passed.
With the last of his strength, burning fingers, and half-blurred vision, he finally managed it.
A small fire flickered to life.
Naruto's lips barely moved.
"Finally..."
Then he tipped over to the side.
Completely exhausted, he fell asleep.
When he woke from his uneasy sleep, he first thought he was still dreaming.
Someone was sitting beside him.
A woman.
He had never seen a human whose heart held no hatred for him.
Her long hair flowed down her back like water.
The firelight reflected on her garments while four fish roasted over the flames.
Naruto blinked.
Slowly, he became aware that his body no longer hurt.
The dull agony in his ribs was gone.
The burning in his arms and legs had vanished as well.
The woman had healed him.
Naruto's lips trembled faintly.
His voice was rough, fragile, and barely used.
A voice that was almost never heard in Konoha.
"Who... are... you...?"
He swallowed hard.
His gaze remained fixed on her.
"I am a monster."