A STRANGER'S ARMS
It was one in the afternoon, the birds curled along the balcony rail outside, and Minato was bored out of his mind.
His mother napped on the sofa they had shoved in front of the kitchen.
Minato was always sure to be a good kid. If he was going to be an abnormal, un-childlike child, he was at least going to attempt to be the best fucking baby a nurse and fish worker could have.
So he always ate his food even though sometimes he wanted to gag. So he barely cried unless his world started melting. So he would nod and sit still even though he wanted to vibrate out of his skin.
And now he was trying his best to sit still and be quiet while his mother slept. The woman had come home early in the morning, and the sound of her cooking him breakfast had woken him up. His father had already left in the bare light of the dawn.
So yeah, Minato was trying to be a good little kid and not wake her up. She needed it if she fell asleep watching him. The woman was always hyper focused on him, terrified of losing him.
However, there was nothing to do. Minato pouted in front of his toys and ached. There were only so many times he could play with his toys and read his beginner books. It came to the point that he started to trace hiragana on the floor and imagine the characters. He was proud of how much he recognized from his learner book at Baba-san's house. Even though his coordination could use some work.
There was a current of discomfort in his body. Stillness led his mind to wander to the past, and that haunted him. So he traced the floor as it would somehow save him from the impending doom of getting lost in his thoughts.
Even that, however, was not enough. The symbols in his mind started to blur together with nothing new to add to them. So there he was, sitting staring at the wall with too much energy for a nap, and not anything that could distract him.
Then he had an idea, well a bad one, but at this point, he would do anything. Besides, even if it was stupid, he could always come back by the time his mother woke up.
Just a peak outside.
Minato eyed the door to his parent's apartment. If he reached carefully he would be able to get it barely. It was stupid, but his heart pounded away as he carefully waddled to the door. He had a mission, and what could some innocent adventuring hurt?
It took more energy than he was proud of to open the wooden door. He also had to step on a box, which almost led to him falling and ending this experiment before it could even start.
But then the door opened, and Minato had to push the box away to slowly open the door without it creaking and waking his mother. He was also careful to not let the sunlight filtering in from the open door land on his mother's sleeping body.
Yeah, if she caught him he was probably going to get yelled at.
Just a peak. He did not want to stress her out.
However, when the sun hit his skin and he was able to peer into the walkway that led to other apartments, with potted plants lining the space, he could not stop himself from reaching out. His mind was enraptured in the colors bursting in front of him. He could hear people talking him down the stairs curled along the outside of the building.
The sun was so warm. His body was on autopilot as he stepped forward. The colors in the sky were so bright-
Like gems and-
Minato suddenly stepped into nothing. There was a sense of terror, and helplessness as he could not recover with his inexperienced and weak body.
Then, Minato's world turned upside down when large hands snatched him by the waist. The feeling had become normal for him at this point, but the suddenness of it shocked him. Minato fought to push down the intense urge to cry.
"Almost took a tumble there," a soft, monotone voice spoke by his ear. Then he was turned around to see the man holding him.
Holy, he was picked up by a model. Even with his dumb baby eyes, he could tell that this person was considered beautiful, or well, Minato did not know the beauty standards here yet. This person was gorgeous to him. Asymmetrical face, long black eyelashes, and a beauty mark dotting his cheek, his face was akin to a polished doll. It was almost eerie how clear this guy's skin was.
The type of beauty comes from not individual features, but a look of overall grace. It was weird.
"Pretty!" Minato sang out, and his stupid hands reached for the man's face without his permission.
Laughter poured from the people standing at the bottom of the stairs behind the man, who all had dark hair like he did as well and were all-.
Oh. Oh. Minato was surrounded by pretty people. Even the roughest of them, with a scar crossed across the expanse of his face, had a roguish appeal.
"Huh," the guy grunted at him with a displeased look on his face. His face was flushed at his friend's (were they friends? who knows.) laughter. The man looked like he regretted saving the toddler wiggling in his hands.
Minato suddenly felt vicious, vicious joy at the idea that popped into his head and his current situation. He donned a face that he hoped was the utmost serious on his childish face, which probably was ridiculous, and said the words with an air of solemness:
"Very pretty."
The man laughing down below chuckled louder. The man who has looked serious before looked unimpressed at the all as he walked up the stairs. Minato pouted when the serious man took him into his arms.
"Are you alright?" the man asked in a deep tone. Minato got the impression he was not actually asking him. His eyes scaled his small body and analyzed for any sign of injury with an intensity that reminded him of Baba-san.
Minato giggled and reached for the man's headband, which he just noticed had a strange symbol on it. Maybe he had not learned it yet. Dark locks of hair brushed Minato's face as he giggled.
"Ah, that must be a yes." Then, barely, the man's lips lifted at the corners, just enough for the smallest signs of a smile. It reminded Minato of his father, which was adorable.
Because he was watching the man so intently, he saw the exact moment the man stilled, and his face went expressionless. Then, he turned his head and looked towards the top of the stairs.
Where Minato's mother was, but she was too far away for him to see her expression.
She hurried down the stairs, and Minato felt like a fool.
"Minato!" she shouted.
"Kaasan!" he said. He reached out towards her, and she quickly bowed to the man holding him.
"It is alright," he spoke sternly. "Kids wander all the time."
"I am very sorry Shinobi-san. Thank you so much for watching my son." His mother's voice was ice, and even though she looked relieved, she also looked uncomfortable.
"It was no problem." the man holding him said, and he handed Minato his mother before the woman had a heart attack.
"Sorry," Minato babbled. He hugged his mom when he felt how tense her arms were.
That realization, that his mother was not comfortable with these men, made Minato feel like an idiot for walking outside. Maybe there was a reason his mother kept him inside, and now-
She bowed with him in her arms and repeated some more words of thanks. When they walked away, Minato waved shyly despite his mother's tense reprimanding, and the sight of the group of men silent as death stayed in his mind.
Those men had nothing obviously wrong with them, besides their appearance and the weird way they carried themselves. Whatever they were, his mother was not comfortable with him being around them.
What the fuck was a shinobi, anyway?