Reminiscence

The next day starts not unlike the last. Sweat gathers at the back of his neck, and the remnants of his nightmares cling onto him like a second skin.

His daily routine goes uninterrupted except for the second it takes him to reboot as he looks at the physical proof that yesterday’s find was not, in fact, a hallucination cooked up by his hunger-addled mind.

He cuts one of the two remaining apples in half and wraps the other one back up. After his small breakfast, he decides to venture out deeper into the village, he takes one of the tangerines along, knowing that he might stay out late. 

The park at this hour would be relatively quiet. He might even make some friends if he was discrete enough and avoided showing his face.

He’s setting himself up for failure but he can’t get himself to care.        

His clothes from the day before are still soaked, hanging from the shower pole where he left them to dry after washing them.

He’s tempted to go out in his sleepwear but thinks better of it. With reluctant movements, he steps outside and follows the path down the stairs to the first floor. Maybe the old lady will help him, after all.

The door is large, engulfing his size a couple of times over. Standing before it feels daunting in all kinds of ways. Raising a trembling hand, he gathers whatever courage he has and puts on a wide smile. It stretches his face strangely, distorting his features into something he’s wholly unfamiliar with. It feels fake and fragile but he musters the strength to keep it in place. He knocks once then another time after a beat for good measure. Now all the more subconscious of his ratty nightclothes and his ruffled hair.

A minute passes and he thinks that maybe this was a bad idea. The old lady was probably still sleeping and he wouldn’t want to disturb her. He’s turning back towards the hallway when the door finally opens.

A short, plump old woman greets him. Her eyes squinted in concentration as if the light is too bright. “Ah, hello dearie, what brings you to my humble doorstep?” She welcomes not unkindly. Her eyes still horribly squinted. “I’m sorry but I forgot my glasses inside, can I help you with something?”

He’s suddenly all too grateful for his luck as he elects not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Ah, h-hello, Oba-san, I was wondering uhm- i-if-“

“Well, come on sonny, I won’t bite.” She coaxes gently, with a bit of mirth.

“Do you, maybe, have any clothes you want to get rid of, from your sons or grandsons?” The words spill out in a ramble and for a moment he’s afraid he might have to repeat himself. However, to his shocked delight, the woman seems to understand him instantly.  He’s barely finished speaking before she’s already hobbling back inside. She comes back a moment later with a small brown box. He immediately goes to help her with the load, despite the relative lightness of the object in question.

“You’re in luck, I was just about to get rid of these." She says as she hands them over. A small, wistful smile on her face as she stares out the railing into the streets beyond. "Is that all you needed, sonny?"

The endearment makes something inside of him clench and warm. Having never been addressed with such familiarity before. Her next words, however, make his blood freeze over.

"Do you live in the building? If I find any more items like these I could send them over with my son."

Torn between the urge to lie and the consequential guilt he’d feel, he resigns himself to his fate. “I- uh, yes, ma’am. I live upstairs.”

"Oh, alright dear, off you go now." She shoos him away, with a flapping hand, the smile, astonishingly still decorating her face. "I have some cats to feed and lunch to make." She must not know who lives above her, he concludes with no small amount of relief.

“A-alright, thank you very much.” He exclaims sincerely, bowing at the waist as the door closes behind her.

He feels a small, fragile smile form on his face. It’s the first genuine he musters.

____________________________

The clothes he has on are a little big, the blue shirt dwarfs his frame, the sleeve falling slightly off his shoulder as he walks. Thankfully, however, the pants fit him well, with the belt he found stashed inside the box.

He gained a couple of other shirts too. His worldly possessions have multiplied and he can't stop the giddy feeling he senses welling up in his chest.

The park isn't empty when he gets there. The delay in his little adventure made it impossible. He doesn't let that deter him though. He squares his shoulders and marches towards the only available swing on the playground. The moment he gets within a two-meter radius of the thing, the woman pushing her child back and forth hurries to clear the area.

Ignoring the urge to turn back and hide away in his apartment. He settles on the wooden plank. Small fingers wrap around the metal chains tightly. The warmth and giddiness are long forgotten by now. Replaced by the cold realization that he was not wanted here. What a surprise.

He doesn't know why it still gets to him. He should be used to it by now. He tries to push himself into motion but his feet don't quite reach the ground comfortably. He has to slide down a little to get a good enough kick in.

After a few failed attempts, he gives up, content to just hover a little and watch the activity around him.

Two boys are playing with a ball, one is clearly a couple of years older. Next to them, a few feet away rests a small sandbox where a little girl is building a tower. It’s a plan spelling disaster and Naruto elects to look away, or else he becomes a reluctant witness to the little girl’s tragic backstory.

His eyes rake over a group of kids chasing each other. He’s heard of the concept of tag but has never had the chance to join in on the supposed fun. He stifles the jealousy he feels rising to the surface, convincing himself that running around like that wouldn’t be very enjoyable anyway.

Something bumps against his leg and he looks down to see a small red ball.

Looking up he spots the two boys from earlier. The smaller one is approaching him, already wanting to resume their game. However, the moment he steps towards the swing, the older one stops him. A hand holding onto his arm almost desperately as he whispers fervently in his ear. His voice isn't exactly loud but it's not quiet either. Naruto can barely make out the words ‘Don’t’ “Mom said not to-‘among the white noise of the other occupants of the playground.

Already knowing the outcome of this encounter, he stands up, all too aware of the small flinch he receives from the older boy at the action. Sighing minutely, he walks away from the swings and towards the grass field a little ways away.

The relief in their figures is prominent even from this distance and he can’t quite stop the bitterness from festering in his chest.

The two don’t hesitate, after that, to retrieve their ball and resume their game. Sighing for what feels like the hundredth time today, he settles on the grass, his back resting against a giant pine tree. He closes his eyes in an attempt to shut out the world and calm himself down.

“That was strange.” A small voice speaks up from behind him, startling him out of his daze. “Are you sick or something?”

Turning his head toward the source of the voice, he's met with sharp, narrow brown eyes. He takes a moment to look over at the other boy. His spikey hair, tied into a tight ponytail betray his clan almost immediately. His stature is small, but he's a little bit taller than Naruto himself. Or at least he thinks he is, but he can't really tell from the way the boy is laying on the grass. He's obviously been napping out here for a little while, if the stray leaves stuck to his hair are of any indication. Ah, Naruto might've taken over an already occupied tree, it seems. Today was just full of missteps, wasn't it?

“You’re not contagious, are you?” The boy continues, his eyes studying him back just as thoroughly, despite the nonchalance he exudes.

“No, I’m not." He mumbles, body tense and limbs ready to get up at a moment's notice. "I'm not sick." He says again, more firmly.

“So they’re just idiots then, how troublesome." And just like that, the boy leans back from his half-crouch and falls back asleep. Naruto can only stare at him, feeling more than a little dumbfounded. 

It takes him a few minutes to realize that he hasn’t been kicked out of his resting place, nor was he ridiculed any further.

Feeling off-kilter, he tries to distract himself with something other than the boy sleeping a couple of steps away. 

His stomach gurgles and he looks up at the sky, confirming his suspicion as he looks at the sun’s position.

Taking out the fruit from his jacket pocket, he wipes it down and starts peeling it. He’s so focused on his task that he doesn’t notice the other boy shift beside him.

“Aw man, it’s already time for lunch. What a drag." Once again, the exclamation is so unexpected, it makes him jump. He almost loses his hold on the tangerine, if not for his relatively quick reflexes. Huffing out a relieved breath, he shifts his gaze toward the boy once more.

He hesitates then, looking at the boy in front of him, he’s suddenly reminded of his own hunger the day before. “Do you-“He starts but hesitates as brown eyes turn to meet his own with no hesitation. “Do you want some? T-tangerines, you know?” He finishes, determined to get the words out, despite the anxious speech pattern that pops up in his nervousness.

“Seriously? Cho-chan never shares with me.” He mutters to himself before looking back up at the blonde. “Are you sure?” He asks seriously.

In place of a response, Naruto just splits the tangerine in half and offers it to the boy. The latter stares at him for a long moment, enough to make him hesitate and think that maybe, he shouldn't have been too bold in his assumptions. However, the next time he looks back at his hand, it's one-half of a tangerine lighter. Blinking owlishly at the fruitless appendage, he settles back against the tree’s trunk. Did that really happen just now? Was his attempt at kindness actually, successfully received?

"Thanks." The kid says, still looking at him seriously, as if he was a problem that needed to be solved.

They go back to sitting in silence. The boy joining him against the tree this time.

The rest of the afternoon is spent similarly. Naruto eats his fruit, savoring it for as long as possible. He knows that he might regret giving half of it away later. When the last of his supplies dwindle and he feels the hunger start to gnaw at his insides again. Yet, he can’t bring himself to feel sad or second-guess his decision.

He doesn't want the evening to end. It's the longest anyone has ever sat with him before. However, the thought barely formulates in his mind when a voice calls out a short distance away.

“-maru!”

He doesn’t pay any mind to it at first, that is until the boy next to him straightens and perks up at the sound.

Naruto follows the voice until it leads him to a tall spikey haired man. The resemblance is uncanny. It leaves no doubt in his mind as to the relationship between the two Nara clan members. Something clenches in his chest at the sight. He wonders if there ever was anyone out there, who bore such a strong, uncontested resemblance to him. Maybe they had blue eyes like his own, and golden hair with whisker marks too. He’s interrupted from his musing when a figure steps into his field of vision, blocking his view of the Nara man.

“I’ve got to go, but uhh,” The boy hesitates, a hand sluggishly coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “Hanging out wasn’t too troublesome I guess.” When Naruto does nothing but stare, once again at a loss for words, the boy hurries to finish before running off. “See ya.”

It’s only when the boy is long gone that he realizes that he hadn’t gotten the boy’s name. Nor had he introduced himself.

So much for making his first kind-of, maybe friend.

______________________

The walk back to his apartment is peaceful, his hands sneak into his pockets as he walks, warding off the rising wind. He turns down the alley leading up to his building and stops short at the sight of a group of men blocking his way. He doesn't know why they are there, but their presence alone is enough to raise alarm bells in his head. Thankfully, they haven't spotted him yet. Taking slow, careful steps backward, he tries to slip away quietly. 'Try' is the regrettable keyword here.

His luck must’ve finally run out, for the moment he takes his first step back, his foot connects with a stray bottle. The glass hisses against the cement quietly as it rolls away, but the sound may as well have been a siren call this late in the evening. He should really stick to his rules more strictly.

Five heads turn to look at him in tandem and whatever hope that they might not be there for him, is squashed. The angry sneers that instantly twist their faces are enough of an indication.

Without missing a beat, he turns tail and runs in the opposite direction. Back out into the street. Shouts of outrage follow in his wake as he runs. His small legs hit the pavements in a frantic beat as he sprints.

The main street is crowded and if he was anyone else, he would’ve used it to his advantage. However, he couldn’t take the risk of even more people joining in on whatever this was. So he runs and he runs, ducking into different alleys and charging down dark passages.

To his mounting panic, he soon finds himself trapped at a dead end, blocked by a wired fence. He turns to trace back his steps and stops short as the five men burst into the mouth of the alley, blocking his only way out.

In one last-ditch effort to escape, he tries climbing the fence. The small holes are perfect for his small fingers, and for a moment he thinks he might succeed. However, the hope is crushed before it even has time to formulate as a hand roughly pulls at his shirt and he's thrown back onto the ground. Back scrapping against the dirt painfully, the breath momentarily knocked out of him.

“No more running away, you brat.” One of the men spits out, hand coming down to clench around Naruto’s shirt. Lifting his small body off the ground before he can even take a moment to breathe.

What was happening, what did they even want?

“Look at him, acting all innocent and scared!” Another buff, lump of a man, snarls, coming to stand next to the first one.

“Yeah, we know what you are, freak, so no use in pretending anymore!" Someone shouts from behind him and he feels the word fade to background noise. The word freak echoes in his ears as he feels his back being slammed into the fence.

“W-what do you w-want?" He manages to say between heaving breaths. Head swimming as his body is once again slammed backward, skull banging against the metal. His legs kick out uselessly to be released. His efforts are completely fruitless.

He doesn't notice the lights above the alley flickering dangerously.

“I want what belongs to me you thief!” The man holding him up sneers, his face coming way too close for comfort. “You insolent little brat had the nerve to steal from an innocent old woman!”

It takes him a moment to know what the man is talking about, but the moment the words register in his brain, he freezes. He should’ve known. Should’ve expected this. It was too good to be true.

"She gave them to me, I- I s-swear!" He tries to defend himself, already knowing it was futile to argue but not ready to give up just yet.

“Don’t even talk about her you freak!” The hand holding him up pull at his shirt while another sneaks up behind to hold him against the fence. The fabric stretches and scrapes his skin raw until finally, it tears. He feels himself falling a moment later. Cold, hard asphalt meets his bare back as the shirt dangles from his attacker’s fingers.

Seemingly satisfied, the man turns around and walks away. His momentary relief is short-lived as his final words register to his ears. "Teach him a lesson, boys." His vision swims and he feels light-headed. The first kick that connects with his stomach makes him fold in on himself. Falling face-first into the dirt.

He braces himself for the next hits, hands coming up to guard his head. His efforts are rendered useless as two arms wrench his hands back and away so violently, he's sure that one of his shoulders gets dislocated.

The kick that connects with his head makes his world darken. Agonizing pain erupts from behind his eyelids, a rising heat resounding through his skull, rattling his brain. Visions, flashes of memories that are not his own, emerging from a depth he hadn't even known existed within the canvas of his mind.

The onslaught of information he gets is so vast and disorienting, he finds himself arching up, a scream getting lodged in his throat before it can escape past his bleeding lips.

The lamp above them flickers violently and explodes as he does so. Plunging the alleyway in darkness.

“What the hell.” A voice mutters, Naruto doesn’t have the awareness to keep track anymore.

“H-hey, maybe we’ve done enough.” Someone else says nervously. “Let’s just go.”

 “We should just kill the brat and do everyone a favor.” The man’s words are punctuated by a kick to the boy’s side. Sending him rolling onto his back. Naruto’s eyes are clenched closed, moving ceaselessly beneath his eyelids.

“What you should do is step away from the boy.” A sharp, low voice drawls from the darkness. “Now.”

The voice is the last thing Naruto hears before his body finally gives out. Falling into a familiar darkness.