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Kurama's Skulk

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Kurama’s Skulk

A Naruto Story

By Sif Shadowheart

Disclaimer:  Naruto and all accompanying media belong to…whoever they belong to, I honestly have no idea.  All of my Naruto knowledge comes from Wiki and fanfic so…yeah.

WARNING!  This fic contains the following:

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; Alternate Universe; Mpreg; Slash; Blatant Disregard for Canon

Read at your own risk!

That said: enjoy!

Skulk: group of foxes; also could be called a leash or earth.

One: A Fox’s Patience

After being alive for thousands of years, Kurama thought that he’d seen the depths of humanity’s idiocy long before he ever was forced into bondage at the hands of an idealistic idiot and his seal-master of a wife.

Given the current situation surrounding his latest jailor clearly he’d been wrong.

Considering how high that bar was before the latest clusterfuck he was witness to while bound and contained inside an insignificant human – fleshies, he’d never understand how they functioned with all their oozing and shedding and blech, give him good clean chakra any day – it was almost impressive.


If the reason for their current idiocy wasn’t something as fucking idiotic as human politics and as ridiculous as taking wrongful revenge on an innocent human-kit, that was.

Kurama and his brothers and sisters had become known as many things over the many years since their creation by the Sage of the Six Paths but even at their lowest and worst – most of those moments being one and the same since that damned Hashirama Senju and Mito Uzumaki had bound them – none of them had been fans of torturing young ones.

He would have gladly led Mito – arrogant bitch that thought she was soo superior to him and his kind that she was – right off a cliff.

Kushina with her chakra chains, fear, and temper he could’ve done without but she was never as…enraging as her predecessor for all that she was an annoyance all her own.

But this?

This little newborn kit that he’d been shoved into by the kit’s own parents who’d lived a scant few years of being treated ambivalently at best and neglected and abused at worse?

No, he couldn’t hate the kit.

Unlike his predecessors, little Naruto – and he’d been awake for that discussion between Kushina and her pretty-boy Hokage husband, they’d meant for it to be used as Maelstrom not fucking fishcake unlike the irritating twats at the orphanage had been using – hadn’t had anymore of a choice in becoming Kurama’s jinchuuriki, jail and jailor all at once, than Kurama had done.

Once he’d woken from the rage of the latest round of Uchiha trying to fuck with his head, he’d been quick to realize that and even quicker to stop punishing the kit for his unwitting and unknowing part in Kurama’s ongoing humiliation.

Kurama had also been quick to realize once the fleshbags had moved him from a boring-but-fine fosterage (he thought, the fleshbags didn’t discuss much within Naruto’s presence given that he’s a kit) to the orphanage and his temper had been officially roused over something other than his ongoing binding that he’d picked up from his vessels more than he’d thought – when he wasn’t sleeping or raging at them anyway.

Like Kushina’s foul language, for example.

Or enough knowledge about how humans actually worked as a society to realize just how not okay Naruto’s situation was.

Sage, but even with his less-than-stellar opinion of fleshbags in general and those of Konoha in particular, he hadn’t expected them to be so damn intentionally vindictive towards an innocent kit who’d done not a damn thing to deserve it.

Some of it, yes, he’d seen coming.

Mito had been respected but feared, Kushina had been somewhat alienated due to that same fear, but never had either of them dealt with the level of small-minded and undeserving loathing that Naruto was forced to live with day in and day out since the Hokage had had him placed in the orphanage.

Kurama wasn’t good.

He wasn’t nice.

He was a creation of the Sage made of pure chakra who’d been roaming the lands ever since with his siblings joining him off and on as pleased them all.

That said: he wasn’t evil either.

Which meant, as much as he hated to do anything that benefitted the fleshbags after what they’d done to him and his family, he had to do something about Naruto’s situation.

Because knowing what was going on and ignoring it when he had the power to improve things?

Now that was evil, just the same as the ones who were being evil jackasses in the first place.

Though…given the givens: bound, limited in reach, at the general mercy of a kit so young he wasn’t up to more than toddling yet…what he had the power to do to make things better was the real question.

Oh well, he’d think of something.

Humans didn’t call it being cunning as a fox for no reason after all.

Months passed by as Kurama tested the new limits of his binding – his last container’s husband had altered the seal holding him before sealing him inside Naruto, fleshies did so love to meddle – getting a feel for how the bindings rather than the adamantine chains of Kushina or Mito kept him and his powers contained.

In the past all he could manage was to growl, roar, and lunge at his chains.

Force Mito and Kushina to keep a constant – and wary – eye on him lest their control break and send his corrosive (to them) chakra spiraling through their systems and burning at their chakra pathways.

He didn’t know what Minato had done – he’d been a little busy being controlled by a damn Uchiha at that time – but it was clear he had done something more than simply replicating Mito’s work.

For one rather than being chained down instead he was in a plain stone cavern with a small pool at the base of the rock slab that he curled up on when he wasn’t paying attention to everything going on in the physical world surrounding his container – Naruto.

It wasn’t the most comfortable place in the world, but still better than being chained in the center of nothingness with nothing to do but watch the world around his container, rage, and sleep.

Granted, he still did a lot of watching and sleeping but now rather than rage he focused on plotting more than the best way to irritate, enrage, or otherwise bother his latest container.

Time had never been a concept that Kurama paid much attention to one way or another.

As an immortal construct of chakra given life and personality and purpose, he had never needed to mind something as simple as time.

That changed – to an extent – when he and his siblings were trapped.

But never had time meant so much as it did now.

Now as with every day that passed he was forced to do nothing but watch as his new container, his kit – and when he’d moved from being Kushina’s spawn with that Namikaze pretty boy he didn’t want to think about too hard or deeply – was treated just a little worse each and every day as no repercussions were in the offing from the Hokage or anyone for that matter.

Kurama watched, Kurama saw, and someday he would ensure that those missing repercussions were visited on each and every adult who “forgot” to feed his kit a meal or smacked him upside his little head for crying when he was cold.

And every day while Naruto was left alone to cry himself – silently in time – to sleep or to shiver and hide from the other children who’d taken to tormenting Naruto both as a way to make themselves feel better and to gain approval from the caretakers of the orphanage, Kurama was there, whispering in his mind, humming him to sleep, and making plans.

Since he was certain that it would be at least a couple of years – no matter how infuriating – before Naruto was either able to make it beyond the walls of Konoha without being caught, even with Kurama’s guidance, or manage the hand signs to complete a jutsu that made the walls superfluous, planning and using his chakra to heal the kit was really all he could do beyond just…being there.

A kind word in the night.

A whisper in the wind.

Anything and everything he could think of to comfort a kit that by all means he could hate…but why bother?

There were more than a few fleshies far more worthy of his ire than a little kit orphaned and abandoned by those who should at least pretend to give half of a damn about him.

Kurama was patient.

He could wait.

The fleshies thought Kurama and his siblings were weapons to be used when needed and locked away when not.

Kurama fully intended on showing them just how awful of an idea that was when they didn’t even have the brains necessary to treat the jinchuuriki – the literal only thing between a skulk of pissed-off bijuu and them – well and show them the respect they deserve.

Payback would be one glorious bitch when it came back around on the fleshies.

And he would be there howling with laughter when it did.

Naruto Uzumaki had grown up – as much as a five-year-old could “grow up” – knowing two things for certain: the people of Konoha hated him and there was a voice in his head.

Now, he’d come to understand that most people had a voice in their head.  What the caretakers at the orphanage responsible for teaching the other children – not Naruto, never Naruto – how do to things like read and write called a conscience.  Naruto had one of those too.  But that was more like a silent thought nudging him this way or that.

Not an actual voice that could be loud or comforting or anything at all just like the people around him and called itself – himself, the voice was also a boy like Naruto – Kurama.

When Naruto was crying in a hidden corner because one of the caretakers had “forgotten” his dinner again, Kurama was there telling him stories about running under the trees and hunting in forests.

When Naruto was cold because one of the other children had taken his blanket and the caretakers had refused to get him another one, Kurama was there with tales of huddling up together in great piles of fur with his siblings.

Because Kurama was a fox, the greatest of all foxes or so Kurama said, and his brothers and sisters were also animals too.

When Naruto had understood that…well that was when he also understood that his voice wasn’t like the voice other people had.

He thought, maybe, that having a fox trapped inside him was the reason the adults around him called him names.  Things like “monster.”  And hurt him or ignored him or just treated him different (and worse) than the other orphans.

Naruto wasn’t a dummy no matter what any of the other children said.

He knew that it wasn’t because he was an orphan or the marks on his face (though he thought maybe the marks didn’t help.)

When he could get away from the orphanage he saw people, mostly shinobi, with marks on their faces much stranger than his whiskers that Kurama said were because of his parents putting him inside Naruto when he was just born.

Kurama was honest like that, not like others.

He told him things, whatever Naruto thought to ask and more, and he never hid from the truth even when it might not be a good truth but an ugly truth…like that Kurama was the reason everyone was mean and awful and ugly to Naruto.

As he got older the things Kurama told him made more sense instead of simply being things Kurama told him.

The reason he was able to warm him up when Naruto was cold was because of chakra, which Naruto had but Kurama had too and in time Naruto would be able to use.

Kurama was the reason Naruto was bullied and treated awful but he was also the reason why Naruto never stayed hurt when someone hurt him, no matter how bad it looked he always got better and didn’t even scar.  Because of Kurama Naruto didn’t get sick, not even the sniffles in the winter like the others.  Because of Kurama Naruto had also always known that the way those around him treated him wouldn’t last forever.

Because Kurama had a plan and Naruto trusted him, even if he wasn’t old enough yet to follow Kurama’s instructions so Naruto could see him and not just hear him.

Naruto couldn’t control his own chakra to let Kurama out at all or meditate for more than a few moments before getting distracted.

But what he could do was follow instructions if Kurama was patient when he got things wrong on the first or tenth try and encouraging when he wanted to give up or he got it right.

So when Kurama walked him through spying on the Academy classes to learn the basic hand signs for jutsu, Naruto did it.  It wasn’t like it was hard after all.  And as long as he was out of the way everyone was happier so the strange shinobi – who Kurama told him were ANBU and to be careful around – left him be.

They had no idea what a scheming fox and a little boy who only wanted someone to care would do with that little bit of common shinobi training.

“Boar, dog, bird, monkey, ramGood kit!”  Kurama said warmly as he watched through Naruto’s eyes as the human kit practiced the hand signs in the bathroom mirror at the orphanage.

It was quiet there for once.

The perfect time for this sort of thing with the fleshbags all out at the Kyuubi Festival.

Safer than the alternative as well.

Kurama had yet to spend this day out among the villagers but if the way they treated his kit normally was any sign he really didn’t want to even if it wasn’t a celebration of his latest ignoble puppeteering via Sharingan and subsequent defeat and sealing away.

There were times when the high status his other jinchuuriki had enjoyed was a curse – Kushina’s death to protect Konoha came to immediate mind, as well as being a stark contrast to how his kit was being treated – but in others it was a blessing.

Such as now where a common bit of Konoha lore gave him a most excellent idea of how to get his kit safely away from those who would use and abuse him and somewhere he could be healthy, protected, and safe.

Even for a genius, clan-raised, genin five-year-old (which Naruto wasn’t) striking outside of the boundaries of the village was a risky business if they could get around the guards.

Without Kurama flat-out taking control of the kit – something he didn’t want to do without knowing what the consequences would be – he didn’t like the odds on that.

Runaway just once as a jinchuuriki and any illusion Naruto had of freedom, no matter how shitty the circumstances, would disappear like smoke on the wind.

Are you ready, kit?”  Kurama asked as Naruto didn’t respond to his praise but instead basked in the warm affection that flowed freely between the two: bijuu and jinchuuriki, and had for years since Kurama had started talking to and comforting the kit.

“Ready,” Naruto whisper-thought back, tugging just once on the makeshift pack he’d made.  Kurama had talked him through it like he did many things, braiding strips from his thin bedsheets for rope, folding and tying his only blanket around his thin pillow and some rations scavanaged here-and-there over the last weeks after Kurama explained his plan.  Another child might doubt.  What Kurama wanted him to do took a lot of chakra from what Naruto had figured out from stories around the village.

But he trusted Kurama.

And, worse come to worse, they could always go with plan b.

Living in the Forest of Death didn’t sound like fun however, so he really hoped Kurama was right and he had enough chakra for this.

Good,” Kurama soothed him as Naruto went through his instructions step by step.  First pricking his fingers with a sharp paring knife from the orphanage kitchen.  Then spreading the blood from his fingertips down to his palm, covering all of his hand.

And then finally: “Kuchiyose no Jutsu!”  Smiling to himself as Naruto slammed his hand down onto the ground in a summoning.

Though, as the tales of Jiraiya claimed, as Naruto didn’t have a summoning contract but had plenty of chakra to burn, both his own and Kurama’s, he – they – were sucked away into the ether.

After all, if you didn’t have a summoning contract with a summons and tried it, and had the chakra to back it up, instead of a summons coming to you, you would be taken to the home of whichever summons suited you best.

Needless to say, Kurama was less than surprised for Naruto to sit up and blink open his eyes – once the world stopped spinning – and see the leafy eaves of Raijin Valley, tucked away and hidden within the Forest of Mythic Beasts in the Land of Valleys, and the home of the Spirit Foxes.

Kurama’s kits were about to meet face-to-face for the very first time.

Back in Konohakagure, Naruto’s absence wasn’t truly noted until he failed to turn up for the evening meal the next day…and by then any trail or chance of tracking him was well and truly gone, leading to more than one conclusion regarding his disappearance both horrifying and farfetched.

Conclusions that would leads to the destruction of more than one citizen of Konoha before the kyuubi jinchuuriki was finally found, many years in the future.