Chapter Text
Dark clouds covered cold skies as snow fell, fat and lazy, swaying side to side on the whims of the wind. It was a rare occurrence this far to the south, but possible. Hiruzen could count how many times he’d witnessed the natural event on one hand. Not that he minded. Old bones and aching joints could no longer handle the severe cold of northern winters.
As he stared out the window, small puffs of smoke rose from his pipe, changing shapes to reflect the flakes that would stick to the glass before melting away. A faint smile lifted his features. This phenomenon was so uncommon that schools and businesses alike tended to close down for the day. The kids would enjoy it.
“I wonder…” His eyes wandered off to the distance, where he knew a low-built building sat buried in the trees toward the edge of the village. While he hadn’t been able to see them personally as of late, the reports he periodically received stated they were—at least—okay.
Quiet.
Stay out of trouble.
Avoid talking to others.
Well, he hoped. Maybe he should go out there sometime and find out if the caretakers were receiving and using the funds. They were what? Five now?
“My, how time flies.” A wan smile pulled at wrinkled features. It indeed had only been a little over half a decade since then.
A knock startled him out of his thoughts, and Hiruzen sighed; his work was never done. Turning, he settled into his seat behind the wide desk and called out, “Enter!”
The door opened, revealing a tall man with black hair pinned into a sharp ponytail. He stepped through, the dim lighting revealing a face with two large scars across the right side of his face, and Hiruzen arched a brow. “Shikaku-san,”
“Hokage-sama,” the man bowed shortly, “There’s been a situation at the orphanage.”
“No…”
“Speak,” Hiruzen barked, perhaps a bit more roughly than he’d intended. The shinobi pulled a scroll from inside his vest and placed it on the desk.
XxX
The ugly old caretakers were mean. Naruto’d known that for some time now. And he had to do something as cold, white cotton fell from the sky. It was too chilly for them to be outside, not in the shorts and shirts they wore, but the old hags wouldn’t let them back in the building.
Swallowing against the rumbling in his stomach, he glanced at the mop of red hair hiding around the corner of the building. They had to do something, though. When ice-blue eyes met cyan, his determination was cemented. With a nod, the petite blond turned back to the door.
It was time.
With an old kunai they’d found buried somewhere in the woods, he levered the door jam, causing the ancient look to pop open easily. Mirroring the stealthy toe-to-heel pace they’d witnessed academy students use, Naruto snuck into the darkened room and aimed for the pantry.
The caretakers never locked the pantry when they kept both doors in and out of the kitchen sealed tight. Anyone sneaking through the other door got caught before they could get out. Once he and his brother were out, though, it wouldn’t matter.
They couldn’t get caught if they weren’t there.
With that thought in mind, Naruto pulled out a pillow case his brother had snatched from a drying line somewhere and shoved what he could into it without making a sound. He was nearly done, and there were only a couple more cans to fill the bag when a can from higher up suddenly fell, hitting him in the head.
The blond yelped, covering the sore spot with both hands. After a moment, he remembered his mission and reached for the fallen can. Only to pause when he recognized the jingle of metal on metal from the other side of the door. Hurriedly grabbing the last one, he shoved it in the sack, tying it closed with string they’d woven into the hem to cinch it shut, and promptly threw it over a shoulder.
Or he tried to, at least. That many cans were heavy, but if he and his brother were going to escape from this hellhole, they needed the food. Dragging the sack across the floor, he was almost to the outside door when the other door burst open.
“Brat!”
The screech hurt his ears. Naruto stumbled out the door, sending the bag sprawling with himself along for the ride. Sitting up, he stared at the angry, wrinkly face hovering over him.
She snarled, hoisting him off the ground by his shirt. “What the hell do you think you’re doing stealing food?”
“I’m hungry, ya old hag,” he snarled in return, “You don’t feed us, so I’m feeding myself.”
That got her in his face, stubby old teeth and rotten breath threatening to make him gag. The hatred rolled off of her in waves, rage for something they’d never understood; it was the only thing he remembered from the adults they had the misfortune of getting too close to. “Monsters like you don’t deserve to eat,” she shook him until it felt like his head was going to roll off his shoulders.
In return, he gave her a brave grin. Give him the heat, let him take the swings, just don’t go after his brother. “Better a monster than something like you.”
If there was one thing he had learned early on, it was the villagers didn’t like having their words used against them, and while the nice old man sometimes came around to talk to Naruto and his brother, the blond doubted he could do anything about the other villagers.
Hell, he could practically hear the hat-wearing man now, Naruto, that wasn’t nice.
“Nice won’t help me here,” the five-year-old thought grimly.
He was shaken, quite literally, from his thoughts, once more finding himself staring at the old hag. The Matron’s eyes were dark with rage, and Naruto swallowed. Okay, maybe he’d overdone it just a little. “Never mind eating,” she huffed, reaching behind her back with one hand, “Monsters like you don’t deserve to exist.”
Ice blue eyes opened wide when he saw the shiny, bright, extremely sharp kunai revealed, and he started squirming. “No, let me go!”
For an old woman, she had an iron grip.
The kunai came closer, and he closed his eyes, ready to feel the pain. When, instead of pain, he felt himself hit the ground, Naruto opened them again to find the old caretaker surrounded by sand. He could only watch as the ball of sand encased the Matron, cutting off her panicked screams, then shrunk in a couple of breaths to half its size.
Much like breaking branches, a sound reached his ears, and Naruto gulped at the bits of red paint-like spatter dripping from the ball. The panic quickly buried itself in the back of his mind for a time when they were safe, and the boy got to his feet, rushing over to his brother.
Cyan eyes were pinned on the ball of sand, presumably to keep it afloat, but Naruto knew they needed to go. The villagers already hated him and his brother; there would be no reprieve when they found out about this.
“Gumo,” he called softly.
The redhead blinked, cyan finally meeting ice blue, “Ruto, did I—?”
“Not now,” Naruto shook his head, “we need to go.”
Unbidden, his brother’s eyes wandered back over the blond’s shoulder, and Naruto grabbed his hand, pulling him along and away from the scene. Racing across the yard, they grabbed the food bag together and took off for the forest. Where they were going, he didn’t know.
All he knew was that they couldn’t be here.
