Naruto’s POV
Everything hurt.
He was just beaten and thrown out straight into the snow.
Naruto, age two, who could very barely walk and talk at all due to previous neglect at the orphanage, was now forced to live on the streets in the middle of the winter.
He didn’t do anything wrong, he just said he was hungry, but they got angry.
And now it was cold. His ragged clothes hung loosely on him and barely kept any cold out.
It isn’t fair
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A week passed, they still won’t let Naruto back in.
His bright hair was attracting those he was trying to hide from, and the cold never stopped. It felt like his face would fall off any second now because of the cold.
Naruto tried asking for food, but he quickly learned that that was a bad idea, for he was still limping from the last time he tried talking to another person.
The kids weren’t much better. They avoided him or would make fun of his lack of housing or dirtiness. But it wasn’t his fault he had no access to the means.
But at least the animals couldn’t judge.
That didn’t make him any less lonely.
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A year into that life, Naruto gave up on trying to fit in and be liked. Survival was all that mattered. So what if he didn’t act like the rest? It’s not like anyone wanted to teach him how to be “normal”.
His food came mainly from trashcans, or birds and mice. Sometimes another animal would share their food with him. And sometimes he’d get lucky and pick up someone’s dropped food.
The street animals became the family he never had. The cats would help him with the cold, the dogs with protection, raccoons and squirrels with food. So naturally, Naruto started taking after them. He would walk on fours, and hiss at strangers. He would eat uncooked food with hands and teeth, and stay away from people as much as possible.
People would only become more cruel with time, so it was better to avoid them. After-all, the limp still wouldn’t go away.
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More years passed, and Naruto stopped trying to be human all together. The words no longer came out of his mouth, and his name was long forgotten.
Neither of those things were necessary for survival, so why bother.
He no longer felt cold during winters, or overheating on the hot summer days. The food texture and taste no longer bothered him. The exhaustion became normal. It was all ok now, he could live.
It’s not like any other outcome could’ve been an option for him, so it’s ok now.
He didn’t need anything else when he could dance with the dogs and sing with the cats once the nighttime falls.
It’s all ok.
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Until something weird happens. A person, a human, caught him scavenging. So logically the feral boy defended himself. But the other human did nothing. Just stared.
That wasn’t right. People screamed at him and hit and kick him, never silent stares.
That wasn’t normal, and what wasn’t normal should be avoided. Not normal meant danger.
No action means planning something bad.
And so he ran, as far away as he could from the human who acted wrong.
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Some time passes, and now he’s cornered with the wrong-acting human again. No good.
Once again the person did none of the expected. In fact, he did the complete opposite. It was quiet, and the person was careful. Next thing the redhead knows is that there’s a strong smell of warm food. The other boy placed a box full of food and backed away.
Was the food poisoned? Maybe a trap?
He moved away a bit more, giving the shorter boy as much space as possible.
It all sounded too good to be true, and it’s not like he hadn’t been poisoned before. Thus, a decision was made. As quickly as he could, he grabbed the food and once again ran. And once again, the other person did not follow.
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It was the best food he ever had.
And the forgotten feelings of unfairness returned full force.
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After that second time, he deemed the other person safe enough to be around with. The next encounter only solidified that opinion.
That child was with another child. But he had to return the box.
Surprisingly, not only had he calmly accepted the box back, he even threw a snack for the feral guy.
And that set a routine in a way. Sometimes they’d meet, and the dark-haired guy or one of his companions would give him something to eat or drink.
It was, a nice change.
But also so very confusing.
Why didn’t they act like everyone else in the village? They weren’t like him, they had no reason to be different.
The redhead could see that the village respected and accepted them unlike him, so why weren’t they against him?
Even the voice inside his head was fine with being around those few.
Which never truly happened before. The voice hated other people.
It was all too new, but it hadn’t ended badly so far.
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One day he decided to be bold and follow the not-mean guy to his sleeping place.
It was big, more than just a house. And it had a lot of people and even gates.
He didn’t want to go near. But as time went on his body did so on its own.
It was dark and the moon was high up when something finally happened.
The boy came out. He noticed the other one.
He was let inside, completely inside into the house. It was, nice and warm and clean. None of the things that he was used to. The other guy spoke, something. A question, he thinks. But no-one ever asked him questions, so that made no sense.
They stared at each other, and they would’ve continued to do so had it not been for another presence appearing.
The yelling stopped abruptly, and it was not the yelling that was directed at him, but the ‘hi’.
The two people from this house started talking, but he had to think for a bit.
He tried repeating the word, and the others froze. Was that the wrong thing to do? Did he mess up? Did he need to run again?
But the other child just said the word again.
Which meant approval, even with their tense bodies, the reaction was not of disgust or resulted in any harm.
That felt, nice.
So he did that again, trying to stand up even if it hurt his back and knees. People responded to him in a matter that was not negative, so he had to do right.
Next thing he knows, the adult asks him to come closer. He used to get the animals’ attention like that, so it made sense, and he did so.
Another question. And another no-answer moment. That can’t be good. She pointed at him, and answered her own question.
But he couldn’t care less about the point of a question she knew the answer to. The name thing sounded familiar, so he tried repeating that too. It took some time and tries, but he got it. He got his name and if that didn’t feel good.
And maybe, he shouldn’t have forgotten it. Maybe, the issue wasn’t truly him, and maybe it was the others who did him wrong.
Maybe it really was unfair.
Oh
Maybe it all was really, really unfair.
He, no.
Naruto, liked this place and those people.