"I used to think the worst thing in life is to end up all alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel all alone."
— Robin Williams 

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Naruto's hands were clenched in a white-knuckled grip as he strode out of the hospital. He couldn't keep his mind off of what he just experienced. He'd dealt with a lot of rejection in his life but he'd never seen that level of outright terror from anyone, especially not someone he thought of as a friend.


He felt conflicted as a lot of old worries reared their ugly heads. Worries that he was sure he had learned to bury down and keep a tight hold over through his childhood.


Burying his emotions had become natural to him. The stares, the closely guarded secrets, the shopkeepers' mistreatment of him, the thinly veiled threats, and the looks of disgust just sort of washed over him. He was used to it; he told himself that these things didn't bother him.


He scratched the back of his head and tried to put on a brave face, but his heart wasn't in it right now. He couldn't bring himself to move past this. It felt too real too raw. He was always able to just separate himself from everything that he experienced, accepting it as part of his life and viewing it from a distance. Sure when he was alone he sometimes found himself unable to deal with the hand he was dealt, but in his day-to-day life if he didn't find a way to cope with something he couldn't change he would have fallen apart a long time ago.

His shoulders slumped, and his hands lowered to his pockets, where he tucked them in. He started walking down the road. The summer weather blew through the trees scattering leaves and kicking up dust. The mid-day sun beat down on his back doing nothing to uplift his spirits and his mind kept spiraling around the image of Noramori's face, a face full of terror. 


A few passing strangers whispered comments they thought he couldn't hear.


"... that's the boy who..."


"How can they just let that monster run around?"


He paid them no mind; after all, this was a constant for him. The background audio of his daily life. His soundtrack. 


"Oh no, he looks upset; hopefully he doesn't hurt anyone."


He grits his teeth.


'I'm fine; this doesn't bother me; I'll show them all. I'll show them they are wrong about me when I become the Hokage.'


His downcast eye spotted a rock, and he began kicking it along his path. He planned to head home, but he wasn't paying attention to his path, just sort of aimlessly floating through the village. The comments washed over him.


"I'm fine...."


Maybe if he says it enough times, he will start to believe it.


His mind turned back to the events that happened in the hospital. Noramori cowered against the wall, trying to run away. Scrunched up and screaming, trying to be as far away as possible, even with nowhere to run. Out of her mind with fear, calling for help, trying to escape from... him?


Why him, though?


He never really understood this; people called him a monster, stupid, dangerous, ugly, poor, dirty, and a whole host of other insults. He just couldn't wrap his mind around this. It wasn't as if he was the only orphan around. It wasn't like he had done anything he could remember. Maybe his parents?


That thought was a dead end,  the only thing he knew about his parents was that his mother's last name was the same as his own. Uzumaki was a name that he held dear to his heart. The last piece of a bygone past that he wished he could have experienced himself. The textbooks at school didn't even mention the name so he knew that it wasn't some important clan. As far as he knew, his parents had died in the attack years ago, right after he was born. The village was terrorized by a great evil. The Kyuubi had killed many people that day, his parents included; it had also taken the life of their esteemed and powerful leader, the Fourth Hokage. 


In his eyes, the Fourth was the greatest Hokage that had ever lived, and he hoped to someday be at least half as good as the Fourth. No, not half as good; better. He would be the greatest leader that Konoha had ever seen. He would show everyone that he wasn't a monster. Maybe then everyone would see how awesome he was. He just wanted them to love him, and if that wasn't possible, he wanted them to at least respect him.


He heard giggling coming from an alleyway to his left. He stopped kicking his rock and looked up to see a group of kids playing with a ball. Kicking it around and playing like there was nothing wrong with the world. A carefree existence that was full of love and support. He would do anything to get that kind of love.


One of them, a boy maybe four or five years old, fell and scraped his knee as he tried to kick the ball with a little too much enthusiasm. The kid started bawling his eyes out, acting like this little scrape was the end of the world. Naruto wished that his only worries involved a few scrapes and bruises when playing with friends. The boy's friends ran to him and started to pick him up, and their ball rolled to Naruto's feet.


Naruto looked down. Maybe he could try and be a little nice to them; it might help bring his spirits up.


"Hey, that was a pretty hard fall; it looked like it hurt pretty bad. You are a strong one though; look at you, you're not even crying now that you're up on your feet," Naruto called out.


The kids looked up from where they were dusting off their friend. The group didn't seem to recognize him and they gave him a shame-faced look of embarrassment at involving a stranger in their playtime. He was just some strange boy with strange clothes.


The youngest happily called back, "Hey, mister, can we have our ball back?"


Naruto smiled; it filled his heart with joy to talk to children, even though he was only 9 years old and didn't consider himself a kid. He had to grow up fast.  Even with the Hokage treating him like a surrogate grandson, he spent a lot of time alone and had to learn to take care of himself.


He picked up the ball and laughed, grinning back at the group of boys.

"Sure, do you think you can catch it? Let me see your skills!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, trying to put a little bit of his signature persona into his response, even if he didn't feel up to it.


The boys grinned back, preparing themselves for his toss.


He wound up and prepared to throw the ball back. Making a huge deal over pulling back his arm as he prepared to fumble the throw. His arm shot forward, and he spiked the ball directly into the ground. It bounced back viciously and slammed into his face, knocking him onto his ass with a bit more force than he had intended.


The boys froze.


"Heh, I guess I don't know my own strength!" He grinned at them and pushed the ball over to them as his hand came up and began to scratch the back of his head.


The boys found it hilarious, and all of them began screaming and laughing in delight.


Naruto just smiled. It was nice to see a bunch of happy kids. He liked the way they hadn't learned to treat them like most of the older crowd did. They didn't judge him; they were innocent in their responses. It was... refreshing. 


The oldest boy, maybe five or six years old, grabbed the ball as it rolled toward him. He was still laughing, but he managed to get out some words between his giggles and mirth: "Thanks, Mister! Did you want to play with us?"


He paused for a second, his hand hovering at the back of his head. That would be a little too much for him. "No, thank you though; you boys have fun and make sure to help each other. Try to be a little safer with your games though; you wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."


They all looked at him incredulously and said, "You sound like my mom! Ugh, well, thanks, Mister," the oldest replied.


A door in the alleyway opened, and an older woman poked her head out with a worried look on her face as she eyed the boys.

"Moto, is everything alright? I heard screaming and crying!"


"Yes, Mom, we were just playing, and Soma fell! This nice boy helped us get our ball back, though. Although he seems worse at playing ball than we are. You should have seen it; he smashed his face with it and everything!" The boy, Moto, replied as he laughed at Naruto's antics.


The woman looked up with a smile to thank Naruto, but her look turned icy the second she laid eyes on him.


"Moto, everyone, get inside now. Playtime is over. Go get washed up, and I'll have some lunch ready for everyone in a moment."


"But mom, we just started playing; we've barely had any time at all t..."


The woman cut Moto off with a glare and spoke in a low tone that brooked no arguments, "I said playtime is over! Listen to your mother! I don't want to hear any back talk!"


The ruffians reluctantly crowded into the doorway. The boy, Moto, began to turn back to Naruto, but his mother just pushed him inside and began to close the door behind them. She icily added a last "Stay away from them, you monster," as the door slammed behind her.

Naruto's reply met nothing but air, "I was just trying to help," His voice petered out as he spoke to the empty alleyway. 


He got up angrily and didn't even bother to dust off his pant legs. What was a little dirt when he was already treated like garbage? His rock was still in the alleyway, and he glared down at it. He did want to play ball with them. To see what it was like to hang out and just have fun. He only saw Noramori at school, and she didn't seem interested in the same things that he was. They both trained diligently, but that was where the similarities ended. Noramori was strange. She always seemed like she was wearing a mask. Her defensive attitude was hidden behind scary smiles and squinted eyes. She always seemed to be acting either bubbly and airheaded or quiet and cute, but he knew better and had learned that she was incredibly calculative and always seemed like she was hiding a deep-seated self-hatred and a fear she didn't know how to deal with. She spent a lot of time going over all the written material that she could get her hands on. It was infuriating, but he honestly liked that about her. She just seemed to want to be prepared for anything. He respected that, even though books were more of a bother to him.


His mind flashed back to her reaction to him. She had acted like he was a monster. That mother had just called him a monster. Why?


He recalled all the hateful comments everyone had given him. He just couldn't figure it out.


Why did they hate him so much? What was wrong with him?


He growled and kicked his rock as hard as he could, putting all his frustration into it. It shot off with a ton of force, arcing toward a window. He anticipated the crash and began to rush out of there, wincing as he heard the sound of glass shattering behind him. He couldn't be around for this; you never know which member of the police force would show up. He had been on the wrong end of the law too many times to count. Between his attention-seeking pranks and angry outbursts, it was always a coinflip on how they would respond to him. Some of them openly wanted him to be put down. He didn't think he could handle that right now. He was liable to tell them to go ahead, and that would never end well with those kinds of people.


Ashamed, he managed to escape and rushed over to his apartment. There was some graffiti on his door written in bright red paint. 

Leave, we don't want you here!

He sighed, running a finger through the paint. It was already dry. They didn't curse this time. There was always a silver lining. 


This was a regular occurrence, and he was just lucky that nothing was broken. The paint was easy to fix; he kept a few cans around just for this purpose.


He sat in front of his door and began to apply coats over the bright red letters. It would probably take a few coats to make them invisible. The paint on his door was already excessively thick; no one had ever taught him to sand it down first, and he just wanted these constant messages to go away. It was easier when it was on the windows or walls. The door stuck a little bit, but he could just scrape paint off the windows, and it didn't matter if the walls were sporting a thick layer of paint. At least it didn't matter to him. The landlord had gotten onto him a few times for anything he managed to spot that he didn't like. Naruto didn't understand; it wasn't his fault, but it wasn't like there was anything he could do to calm the man down. His explanations of vandalism fell on deaf ears.


He finished up and headed inside. Stripping down to his underwear, he threw himself on the bed. He didn't bother to shower. There probably wasn't any warm water anyway, and his mind wasn't really in a state to care.

Usually, he was hopelessly optimistic. His normal attitude helped him get through the day. Helped him overcome the challenges he faced everywhere he went. He was a sweet kid if everyone could just get their heads out of their asses and take the time to pay attention to him.


Recalling the Hokage's final words about staying strong for Noramori. He didn't feel strong; he felt, well, broken.


This life just didn't make sense to him. Everyone else seemed so much happier. They couldn't understand his pain. Noramori at least treated him like he mattered. She listened to his worries, and he listened to hers, no matter how guarded she was. She was an amazing friend.


"Get it away from me!"


Naruto curled into a ball as he remembered her screaming yet again.


It hurt so much. He thought he was over these feelings of rejection.


'I'm stronger than this!'


His shoulders started shaking with barely contained sobs.


'Can someone please tell me what's wrong with me?


"I'm not a monster!" He whimpered as he jumped off the bed. 


He ripped the cover off the bed and began to crawl underneath it. His face was wet with silent tears. He'd learned long ago not to cry too loud. His neighbors held no sympathy for him and wouldn't hesitate to call the police on his disturbances.


'Please, not Noramori! I can't have her treat me like this too.'


He lay in his bed crying under his covers until he couldn't cry anymore.


As he drifted off to sleep, he hoped someone could give him some answers; maybe Noramori would be willing to answer some of his questions once she was better.


Just before falling asleep, he finally registered the last words Noramori spoke before passing out: "Naruto, what are you doing here? What happened to the fox?"


He was too tired and worn out to properly process these words, but his dreams were filled with this statement and the laughing face of a giant orange fox. It was growling and cackling. Making fun of him, looking at him like a predator looks at prey.


His soul cried out. It begged for answers, hoping beyond hope that when he awoke he would finally find his way out of the dark.