Little Letter, a Naruto fanfiction
This was the first story that I wrote after a two year hiatus. I like writing Naruto but, gah! He's hard to keep in character.
Rating: G
Genre: Drama
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Summary: It sort of figured that the most precious gift of Naruto’s life came in such an unassuming package.
It sort of figured that the most precious gift of Naruto’s life came in such an unassuming package.
It was a small, flat envelope left tucked into the mail slot. It hadn’t even been pushed all the way through, as if the person who had written it had been in a hurry. There was no address, no name. It was just a simple, white envelope, plain as the door it was resting in.
He saw it when he came home after the celebration. Everyone was excited that he had finally become chuunin, maybe even more so because he was the last. Dead last, even now, some had joked, even though no one really questioned his abilities anymore. There were too many battles separating graduation and now for that designation to be entirely truthful.
When all of the snacks had been eaten, and all the (questionably acquired) sake drunk, he had been surprised to see that a few people had brought gifts. An Ichiraku coupon book, a new headband for the fraying one he had now , and some sort of homemade protective amulet from Hinata, who couldn’t look him in the eye the rest of the evening after he had made a point of pinning it on his new vest. Kiba had announced loudly that he hadn’t brought a gift, he was going to wait until Naruto made jounin.
With as wonderful a night as it had been, he hadn’t really expected that anything would dim those memories for a long time.
He almost didn’t notice the envelope, but when he opened the door there was something just the slightest bit off about it. He swung the door back again and looked closer, and this time he saw it. Picking it up, he flipped it over. He never had received any letters. He wasn’t even sure the postman knew his address.
He sat in his kitchen as he slit it open with a kunai. When nothing exploded, he figured it was safe enough. Sakura had always yelled at him for relying too much on his healing abilities.
The paper inside was just as plain, not a bit of ink out of place in the simple, one line message. There was no signature. It wasn’t anything extravagant; it wasn’t even worth a second glance to most.
But for Naruto, the world shifted and settled in a manner he had never before experienced.
He had always wondered whether he was actually an orphan of the Kyuubi’s attack or whether he was just abandoned. The hospital had been partially destroyed, and the records of that night were tenuous at best. It would have been easy for someone to claim their newborn had died instead of dealing with a demon child. Just a few false tears and they could move on with their lives.
Naruto had always liked to think that his parents had died. When he was younger he would play in his corner of the playground (no one else ever came) and create elaborate stories about his parents. His mother was a ninja from a far off land. She had died protecting him from that monster, shielding him from a collapsing wall. His father was a jounin, who looked just like him and helped protect him after his mother’s death. He would die saving a group of villagers from the raging fires the Kyuubi had created.
And sometimes, sometimes, he would talk to the cliffs. When no one was around, he would talk to Yondaime and pretend that he was his father. Yondaime didn’t have any family, right? Naruto didn’t think he would mind much. Maybe Yondaime was lonely, too.
The one time he was caught at that his caretaker had smacked him so hard his ears rang for hours.
When he was older and learned about the seal, he began to wonder if perhaps his parents weren’t killed. Maybe he just wasn’t wanted. It was a thought that kept him up a few nights. Luckily Naruto had never needed much rest.
So it was the letter that quieted his fears. And maybe it was even lying. Maybe someone had just wanted to do something nice for the orphaned kid. Naruto couldn’t bring himself to care because if it was true he was joyous, and if it wasn’t, well, he’d keep the lie.
Your parents loved you.
Comments and critiques are always welcomed.
Rating: G
Genre: Drama
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Summary: It sort of figured that the most precious gift of Naruto’s life came in such an unassuming package.
It sort of figured that the most precious gift of Naruto’s life came in such an unassuming package.
It was a small, flat envelope left tucked into the mail slot. It hadn’t even been pushed all the way through, as if the person who had written it had been in a hurry. There was no address, no name. It was just a simple, white envelope, plain as the door it was resting in.
He saw it when he came home after the celebration. Everyone was excited that he had finally become chuunin, maybe even more so because he was the last. Dead last, even now, some had joked, even though no one really questioned his abilities anymore. There were too many battles separating graduation and now for that designation to be entirely truthful.
When all of the snacks had been eaten, and all the (questionably acquired) sake drunk, he had been surprised to see that a few people had brought gifts. An Ichiraku coupon book, a new headband for the fraying one he had now , and some sort of homemade protective amulet from Hinata, who couldn’t look him in the eye the rest of the evening after he had made a point of pinning it on his new vest. Kiba had announced loudly that he hadn’t brought a gift, he was going to wait until Naruto made jounin.
With as wonderful a night as it had been, he hadn’t really expected that anything would dim those memories for a long time.
He almost didn’t notice the envelope, but when he opened the door there was something just the slightest bit off about it. He swung the door back again and looked closer, and this time he saw it. Picking it up, he flipped it over. He never had received any letters. He wasn’t even sure the postman knew his address.
He sat in his kitchen as he slit it open with a kunai. When nothing exploded, he figured it was safe enough. Sakura had always yelled at him for relying too much on his healing abilities.
The paper inside was just as plain, not a bit of ink out of place in the simple, one line message. There was no signature. It wasn’t anything extravagant; it wasn’t even worth a second glance to most.
But for Naruto, the world shifted and settled in a manner he had never before experienced.
He had always wondered whether he was actually an orphan of the Kyuubi’s attack or whether he was just abandoned. The hospital had been partially destroyed, and the records of that night were tenuous at best. It would have been easy for someone to claim their newborn had died instead of dealing with a demon child. Just a few false tears and they could move on with their lives.
Naruto had always liked to think that his parents had died. When he was younger he would play in his corner of the playground (no one else ever came) and create elaborate stories about his parents. His mother was a ninja from a far off land. She had died protecting him from that monster, shielding him from a collapsing wall. His father was a jounin, who looked just like him and helped protect him after his mother’s death. He would die saving a group of villagers from the raging fires the Kyuubi had created.
And sometimes, sometimes, he would talk to the cliffs. When no one was around, he would talk to Yondaime and pretend that he was his father. Yondaime didn’t have any family, right? Naruto didn’t think he would mind much. Maybe Yondaime was lonely, too.
The one time he was caught at that his caretaker had smacked him so hard his ears rang for hours.
When he was older and learned about the seal, he began to wonder if perhaps his parents weren’t killed. Maybe he just wasn’t wanted. It was a thought that kept him up a few nights. Luckily Naruto had never needed much rest.
So it was the letter that quieted his fears. And maybe it was even lying. Maybe someone had just wanted to do something nice for the orphaned kid. Naruto couldn’t bring himself to care because if it was true he was joyous, and if it wasn’t, well, he’d keep the lie.
Your parents loved you.
Comments and critiques are always welcomed.