Naruto One-shots

Forgotten

Summary: Naruto killed someone at the age of five. One-shot.

[It's pretty short, but whatever]

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It happened in the dead of night. Naruto was in bed, trying, and failing, to sleep. That's when he heard it.

The lock on his door clicked and it creaked open.

Naruto knew that something was wrong. The Hokage had told him that no one should come into his house without his permission.

So Naruto grabbed a kunai, a gift from the Hokage, and ran into his closet. He silently closed the door, covered his mouth with his hand, and waited.

For some reason, he knew it would end badly.

He stayed like that for five minutes before the door lurched open. A man dressed in all black was standing there. The man's eyes widened as if surprised that someone was there.

Then he lunged.

Naruto didn't think. He reacted. The next thing he knew, in a fit of pure luck, there was a kunai in the man's forehead. He was dead before he hit the ground.

He landed on Naruto. Naruto couldn't breathe with the weight on his stomach and felt uncomfortable with the blunt end of a kunai sticking into his tummy.

And then the man started dripping warm, red liquid.

That's when Naruto screamed. It was an ear-splitting, horrifying scream.

In less than five minutes, his house was flooded with people. They wore black and white armor and had animal masks on their faces. He wasn't scared, though, because the Hokage had always insisted that he could trust them. They dragged away the man, kunai and all, and made sure that Naruto wasn't hurt.

And then the Hokage came and held him while Naruto sobbed.

But Naruto wasn't sobbing because he had taken a man's life, because he had killed him with his own hands.

Naruto was crying because his favorite orange shirt was now stained red.

The Hokage convinced him to throw it away.

And Naruto forgot.

Years later, the Seventh Hokage was admired by everyone in Konoha.

Almost.

Sometimes, though, the Nanadaime would walk across a small, scrawny little house. It was obvious that its owner lived on the brink of poverty. He would see an old woman. He would smile at her, just like he does to everyone else, but the woman just stares back, sitting in one of the two rocking chairs on her front porch (the second one was always empty).

She was always oozing fear and resentment. But only towards him.

Naruto never did figure out what he had done to the woman to make her hate him so.

Whatever it was, he had forgotten.

the end

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Well then, that was quite an idea. I had the thought in the shower and basically wrote it out in my head in under five minutes. The quality isn't the best, but I just had the urge to write, which I haven't had in a while, so I decided to listen to it. 

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