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Author's Note: Yep, my first Naruto fic. I’ve been actually thinking of writing this for a long time now and it was a good thing that one of my muse decided to pay me a visit today. I just hope that my other muses will come too so that I can finally go on a fanfic writing spree, hehe…

Disclaimer: Naruto is owned by Masashi Kishimoto-sensei. I’m in no position to claim it because I’m just a poor fangirl who’s just obsessed with his lovely creation.

It was the fifth time already.

The fifth time he was adopted into a foster family.

The fifth time he tried to fit into his new home.

The fifth time they didn’t even give a damn about his efforts.

The fifth time that they would suddenly beat him for no apparent reason.

And finally, the fifth time he found himself under this tiny shed just a few blocks away from the Ninja Academy after running away.

The only thing that was different this time was that it was raining really hard that his little refuge wasn’t enough to shelter him from the rain. But he didn’t really mind. He’d choose getting wet from the rain than go through with the whole ordeal the sixth time, the seventh, the eight, or whatever nth time.

At a very young age of four, he learned to survive without feeling the warmth of a true family. He never knew about his parents or where he actually came from, and having the villages look at him with those cold, cold eyes wasn’t any help at all. Even though he was kind of used to it, the feeling of utter loneliness still pained him. But all things considered, he would rather just live by himself.

What worried him a bit was what the the 3rd Hokage would do as soon as he found out that he ran away again. He knew the old man meant only good things for him. But then it would be better if he’d just let him on his own rather than force him into a family who clearly didn’t want to do anything with him but was obliged to do so because it was their leader’s orders. It looked like he would have to lie about the beatings for the fifth time also. It’s not that he’s protecting his previous families’ reputation. It’s more of not making the Hokage worry about him. He was already a burden to everybody else. He wouldn’t want the only man who had shown him kindness to be one of them.

The rain continued to pour heavily that after a while, the piece of plywood that served as the tiny shed’s roof gave up from the weight of the puddle above it. Despite this, he didn’t move from his place, thinking that it was no use because he’d still be soaking wet whichever way he chose.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there hugging his knees to his chest and he was starting to shiver from the cold. All he knew that moment was that the heavens seemed to be mocking him more by letting the rain fall harder by the minute. He was vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps going to his direction until he stopped feeling the raindrops flow through his body. He looked up to see a black haired leaf shinobi holding up an umbrella with midnight black eyes piercing through his crystal blue ones. He was sure that the stranger wasn’t even in his teens yet but he was sure he was not a genin because of the chuunin-issue vest he was wearing.

He wondered what a person like him was doing near him. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the attention he’s getting right now because hardly anyone even looks his way. It was just that the older boy looked like someone who’s got other things in his hands than waste his time standing in the middle of the rain, holding out an umbrella for an insignificant orphan kid like him.

Not long after, the rain slowed down until it was merely droplets falling from the evening sky. But the two remained motionless and staring at each other until finally, the older boy broke the silence.

“Well, are you just going to sit there all night and get yourself ill?” the strange shinobi asked, although the way he talked was so toneless that you’d actually think twice if it was actually a question.

“Why do you care, mister?” he asked in return. He was a bit curious on why the older boy suddenly took interest of his health. It’s not like someone would worry if he gets ill. They’d probably be happier if he just died altogether.

At this, the stranger’s eyes softened, “Because I want to.”

His eyes widened in surprise at the implication of the words. It was strange that someone other than the old geezer would actually care enough to think about his well-being. He looked at the older boy suspiciously but the hopeful glimmer was also a bit evident in those expressive eyes of his.

“Come on, I’m sure you’re hungry,” the older boy offered his hand and after a moment’s hesitation, the young boy took it.

They walked the dark streets in silence, still hand in hand. The younger boy studied tried to study the face stranger who offered him help. It was a pity because it was a moonless night and the stars were not visible through the thick clouds due to the rain. All he could make out of his features was his long dark hair tied in a pony-tail and of course the dark obsidian orbs he saw earlier when the older boy first appeared in front of him.

He was too intent on making out the stranger’s other features that he was a bit surprised on having abruptly stopped. He turned in front of him and finally noticed that they were standing in front of a small ramen stand with the banner “Ramen Ichiraku”. He then felt something like a piece a paper being slipped in the hand that was previously held by the stranger. He looked at it, and then looked up to older boy with a questioning look.

“Give that to the old man and he will give you food,” the older boy said in reply to his silent question.

The young boy looked at the piece of paper again, then to the ramen stand, and then back to the stranger. The latter gave a small nod, urging him to go on. The smell of newly cooked miso ramen was already invading his senses, which increased the grumbling of his empty stomach. With one final look of gratitude, he turned around to where the stranger was standing but saw no one in sight.

He was a bit disappointed that he wasn’t able to ask the kind stranger’s name when he had the chance, but then he guessed that he probably wouldn’t answer him anyway. Either way, he was still grateful to the man’s kindness and somehow he’ll repay him in the future. He was also happy that he experienced a lot of firsts in a night where everything seemed so hopeless.

It was the first time the Hokage wouldn’t find him huddled in that tiny shed.

The first time a shinobi other than the kind old man has shown him kindness.

The first time he got a free ramen ticket.

The first time he had his bowl of miso ramen at Ichiraku’s.

And finally, the first time that something good actually happened just when he thought that nobody would ever accept him.

-Owari-

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