The sun was setting over Konoha, painting the Hokage monument in hues of orange and deep red. For seven-year-old Naruto Uzumaki, the colors were a mockery. It was the same shade as the paint he'd used for his latest prank on the Academy, a prank that had earned him another scolding and the familiar, cold glares of the villagers.
He sat huddled in a dusty alleyway, knees tucked to his chest, tracing meaningless patterns in the dirt with a grimy finger. The sounds of families heading home for dinner—laughter and warm chatter—felt like a wall between him and the rest of the world. A fresh wave of loneliness washed over him, hot and sharp, and a single tear escaped, leaving a clean track on his dirty cheek.
He sniffled, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. It wasn't fair. The loneliness felt bigger than usual tonight, like a heavy, wet blanket smothering him. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could just disappear.
And for a moment, he did.
The scent of dust and garbage vanished, replaced by the smell of old, damp stone. The sounds of the village faded into a low, echoing drip. Naruto opened his eyes and gasped. He was no longer in the alley.
"What?! Where am I?!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet and whipping his head around in a panic. He was standing ankle-deep in water in a vast, dimly lit corridor that seemed to stretch into infinity. Massive pipes snaked along the walls and ceiling. "Hello?! Is anyone there?! What is this place?!"
His only answer was the echo of his own terrified voice. He felt a pull. A dark, powerful presence drawing him forward. With no other direction to go, he hesitantly waded through the water until it opened into a cavern so immense he couldn't see the ceiling. Directly in front of him was a set of colossal golden gates, held shut by a single piece of paper with the kanji for "Seal" written on it.
From behind the bars, two slitted, crimson eyes, each larger than his entire body, snapped open, pinning him with a gaze of pure, undiluted hatred.
"So," a voice like grinding mountains rumbled through the chamber, "the jailer finally deigns to visit his prisoners."
Naruto fell backward into the water, crabs-crawling away in pure terror. "The... the Nine-Tailed Fox! It can't be!"
"Hah! Took you long enough to get here, brat!"
The second voice, loud and human, made Naruto flinch. He looked up and saw the translucent, ghostly form of an old, powerfully built man perched casually on a pipe overhead.
Naruto's fear turned to frantic confusion. "Who are you?! Where are we?! What's going on?!"
The Kyuubi let out a furious roar. "You are in your own filthy mind, human whelp! And we are your prisoners!"
"The furball's right," the old man said, ignoring the fox's outburst as he hopped down from the pipe. "We're inside your head, kid. Your soul. Whatever you want to call it."
The weight of it all hit Naruto at once. The whispers of the villagers, the glares, the name they called him. "Demon..." He pointed a trembling finger at the cage. "Then it's true? The Demon Fox is... inside me? Why?! How did you both end up in here?!"
Garp's cheerful expression faded, replaced by a more serious, thoughtful look. "It happened the night you were born. I arrived here by... accident," he said, waving a dismissive hand as if the details of his own death were unimportant. "I saw the whole thing. This big furball was tearing your village apart. A tall, blonde fellow in a fancy coat—the Fourth Hokage, I guess—fought it. In the end, he sealed it away to save everyone." Garp looked Naruto square in the eyes. "He sealed it inside you. Made you its container. Its jailer. I just got caught in the crossfire and was dragged in for the ride."
The truth crashed down on Naruto with the force of a physical blow. They hadn't been hating him for no reason. They put the monster inside him. The hero of the village, the Fourth Hokage himself, had doomed him to this life.
"So... that's why..." Naruto whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "That's why everyone... they all hate me because of what's inside me..."
"And what are you going to do about it?" Garp's voice cut through his despair like a knife. "Sit here and cry? Let them win? Let this oversized fox laugh at you from his cage for the rest of your life?"
"Hey! I'm not—!" Naruto started, his usual defiance kicking in.
"I've been watching you for seven years from in here, kid," Garp interrupted, his voice booming with authority. "You've got guts, but no discipline. You've got power—more than you can imagine, thanks to your tenants—but you have no control. You want to be Hokage? You want to make them acknowledge you?"
"Yes! More than anything!" Naruto cried out, his voice thick with desperation and newfound motivation.
"Good!" Garp's grin returned, fierce and challenging. "Then you have a choice. You can keep crying about the hand you were dealt with, or you can get so strong that no one can ever look down on you again. I can't teach you your little 'jutsu' tricks. But I can teach you how to be strong. My way. It will involve pain, sweat, and my 'Fist of Love'. But if you listen to me," he leaned in, his ghostly eyes burning with intensity, "I guarantee you'll have the strength to face all of it."
"DO NOT CONSPIRE IN FRONT OF ME, MORTALS!" the Kyuubi raged. "I WILL DEVOUR YOU BOTH!"
Naruto looked from the furious demon to the confident old man. For the first time, he had an answer to 'why'. And now, he had a choice. He could drown in the hatred, or he could learn to fight back. Wiping his tears away with a furious swipe of his arm, he looked Garp in the eye.
"Okay, ghost-gramps," Naruto declared, his voice echoing in the vast chamber. "You've got a deal!"