Sometimes, he wondered what it was like to walk outside in the sun without being jeered at. It would be nice, he thought, to not have to wear his scarf. And sometimes, when he saw the other children leaving the playground holding their parents' hands, something throbbed within his chest.
The leaves of the trees in the hills had long since turned orange and red, before the answer came to Naruto from a rather unexpected source.
...
On the morning of his sixth birthday, he woke up to find the room cold and with no breakfast on the table. His caretaker had always made him three meals a day, washed the dishes after him, done his laundry, and cleaned his small apartment once a week. She'd never had a kind word for him (in fact, she'd rarely spoke to him at all) but she'd never made him starve before.
Blearily staring at the empty table as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Naruto didn't notice the masked individual that suddenly appeared on the open window sill. Before he could do much else, the man had forcefully picked him up and jumped out the window.
At first, thinking that someone had finally decided to attack him in his home, he struggled in the strange man's grip, clawing at the man's chest. But he then realized that the man was wearing a porcelain animal mask and metal chest armor, and relaxed: As much as he was hated by the rest of the village, it was common knowledge that the strange animal mask men worked for the Hokage.
Sure enough, he was dumped unceremoniously into the Hokage's office. Naruto didn't remember ever having been in here before, but he could read the characters 'Hokage' on the desk in the middle, which's top was overflowing with stacks of paper and scrolls.
The Hokage himself stood before him. His aged countenance and wizened form almost belied the strong, unwavering eyes that observed him from below the white hat. Naruto quivered and began to look away, but unlike the villagers, the Hokage's gaze held no animosity or hatred. So he met the elder ninja's dark eyes with his own, and for a moment, he thought he might have seen a flicker of emotion within them.
But then it was gone, and he turned away.
Naruto learned several things that day. Though he'd never really thought about it before, he now learned that the Hokage had been his benefactor paying for his caretaker, and that now that he was six, she would no longer be coming by. He would receive a monthly stipend from the Hokage, but he would have to prepare his own meals and clean up after himself. And finally, he learned that he was to attend the Academy, starting immediately.
Running as fast as his legs could carry him back to his apartment, Naruto was so excited that for once, he didn't even notice the glaring that followed him. After all, the Academy was the holy grail for the children at the playground: Having a sibling in it gave you automatic bragging rights, and if you were going to be joining it yourself? Uncontested rights to the best swing, bar nothing.
For the first time in his life, he felt a rising airy sensation in his chest that he didn't know the word for.
However, that evening, Naruto watched the sun set from his window, and with the growing darkness, he began to feel a niggling sense of doubt. He'd never been allowed to join or be a part of anything before. Would attending the Academy really change anything for him? He'd always admired the ninja; their mystique and power made them just like the heroes of his childhood folk tales. But could he become like one of them? And if he did, would people stop hating him? ...Or was he doomed to be hated for the rest of his life?
His fingers, rested on the window sill, clenched into his palms, leaving behind red marks.
No, Naruto decided. None of that mattered. He would just become a ninja that they couldn't ignore or despise. He would become so great, his red hair or his whisker marks wouldn't matter. Whether they thought he was ugly or stupid – none of that would matter. He would become the most revered and respected ninja of Konoha. He would become Hokage.
Even if he couldn't own their bodies or their minds, he vowed, he would own their hearts.
...
The next morning found Naruto scanning his own appearance before the mirror: If he was going to become Hokage, he knew he should at least have the ability to make a good first impression on his teacher and his classmates. Thankfully, his caretaker had at least done the laundry before she left; now, he was wearing his best (or rather, least threadbare) clothes.
His hair on the other hand, was a completely different story: It was a spiky red mane that hung down to his neck. Rolling a lock of the bright hair between his fingers, Naruto wondered if he should trim it. He glanced out his window, and let go of the lock. He could see the Hokage monument from his apartment, and if the busts were accurate, the Second, Third, and Fourth had all had rather crazy spiky hair. Clearly, their hair hadn't impeded their rise to the top, and he figured that his wouldn't either.
In fact, he thought in a passing way, the Fourth's hair even rather resembled his own.
Nevertheless, he dug out a brush that hadn't seen the light of day since it'd been bought, and dutifully tugged it through his hair. Finally, with one last check in the mirror – smoothening out a nonexistent crease in his shirt – he left his apartment and headed to the Academy.
Before he entered the building, Naruto paused and looked up at the circular sign that proudly hung in the niche above the doors. The character for 'shinobi' was emblazoned on it in bold ink, and he knew enough to know that it was made up by the separate characters of 'blade' and 'heart.' Together, it meant 'endure.' It seemed appropriate considering the goal that he had in mind. Tracing the character with a finger on his palm, he took a deep breath and stepped through the doors.
The classroom was large with a high ceiling, and filled with rows of desks, stacked in an increasing, rising order like a staircase. When Naruto walked in, following his new instructor – a man with an old scar across his face who had introduced himself as Umino Iruka – a palpable ripple of surprise swept through the room.
The noise level in the class sharply dropped, as dozens of pairs of eyes turned to observe him. Naruto didn't meet any of their narrowed gazes, but stood awkwardly in front of the blackboard. Offhandedly, he realized that he recognized one of the faces that stared back at him: It belonged to the girl with the large forehead who he'd noticed getting picked on a few times in the playground.
"This is Uzumaki Naruto," Iruka introduced in a ringing voice. At the sound of his name, some of the children began to whisper amongst themselves. "He's six years old, and he'll be joining our class from today onwards, so make him feel welcome."
"I hope we can be friends," said Naruto, forcing the tips of his lips up into a smile. He'd never had much of a reason to make one before, but he had observed from afar how smiles could lower people's guards. He thought he heard some snickers and maybe even a muttered 'tomato-head' but for the most part, the children only stared back at him sullenly.
Considering his introduction largely a success, Naruto found an empty seat next to another boy with a dark countenance, who idly rested his head on his hand.
It turned out that the class had been going over how to read and write several basic characters that he already knew, so for the first hour, Naruto had the unhindered liberty of observing his new instructor. Iruka had seemed courteous enough when he first introduced himself outside of the classroom, but he wondered what the chūnin truly thought of him.
Iruka certainly seemed jumpy about him; in the last ten minutes alone, his eyes had flickered four times over to where Naruto was sitting, and he had stumbled over his words each time. Judging by the sheen of his face, the man was sweating slightly as well, and Naruto had learned from first-hand experience that, if it wasn't from the heat, it indicated they were nervous.
From his brief personal interaction with the instructor, Naruto could already tell that Iruka was usually a proficient teacher. Discreetly looking around, every time Iruka fumbled over a sentence, he saw looks of puzzlement reflected on the faces of his classmates, confirming the fact.
He returned his gaze to the chūnin just as the man in question looked up at Naruto, and their eyes met for a split second. Iruka gave no visible signs of reacting, and looked away almost immediately (mistakenly writing a different character on the blackboard as he did so).
But Naruto already knew. Though it was just the smallest glimmer, he had seen that same, strange look of fear and revulsion that everyone else in the village had whenever they saw him.
His spirits beginning to sink, he wondered whether he would be kicked out of the Academy after all.
After the lesson on reading and writing, the class moved on to chakra, and suddenly, Naruto found himself out of his depth. Apparently, there was something called a chakra point, and a person had three hundred-and-sixty-one of them.
There was also something called hand seals, and the twelve basic ones were named after the horoscope animals. But not knowing what chakra itself actually was, Naruto could barely follow the discussion, let alone participate. From the sounds of it, it sounded like magic, but he'd always thought magic was mere fantasy. So what else could it be?