The morning sun barely filtered through the village's haze as Naruto slipped out of his apartment, his hood pulled low and his steps quick. The events of last night still lingered—Anko's unexpected kindness, the crushed groceries, the word demon ringing in his ears. He'd barely slept, his mind too tangled with questions. Why did the villagers hate him? What made him so different? Today, he was determined to find answers, and the village library seemed like the best place to start.The library was a squat, unassuming building near the Hokage Tower, its stone walls weathered and its windows dusty. Naruto had never been inside—books weren't exactly his thing—but he'd heard it held records of the village's history. If there was anything about why he was treated like a pariah, it might be buried in those pages.He pushed open the heavy wooden door, the creak echoing in the quiet space. The air smelled of old paper and ink, and rows of shelves stretched out before him, packed with scrolls and leather-bound tomes. A stern-looking librarian glanced up from her desk, her eyes narrowing as they landed on him. Naruto tensed, expecting her to shoo him out, but she just sniffed and returned to her work. He took it as a small victory and slipped into the stacks, his heart pounding with a mix of nerves and determination.Not knowing where to begin, he wandered until he found a section labeled "Village History." His fingers brushed over the spines of books, the titles blurring together—Konoha's Founding, The Great Ninja Wars, Hokage Legacy. That last one caught his eye. The Hokage were the village's heroes, right? If anyone knew the village's secrets, it'd be them. He pulled the heavy book from the shelf and settled into a corner, flipping it open on the floor.The pages detailed the lives of the Hokage, from the First to the Third. The First, Hashirama Senju, had founded the village with his rival, Madara Uchiha, building peace out of chaos. The Second, Tobirama, was a genius at jutsu creation but strict, with a knack for keeping the village strong. The Third, Hiruzen Sarutobi, was still in charge, an old man with a reputation for wisdom but a softness that some said made him weak. Naruto lingered on the Third's section, remembering those distant, unreadable looks the old man sometimes gave him. Did he know something?As he read, a smaller book tucked under the shelf caught his eye, its cover worn and unmarked. Curious, he pulled it out and opened it. The title page read Tailed Beasts and Their Legacy. His brow furrowed. Tailed Beasts? He'd heard whispers of them—monsters of legend, massive creatures with unimaginable power. The book described them: the One-Tail, a raccoon-like beast of sand; the Two-Tails, a fiery cat; all the way up to the Nine-Tails, a fox with chakra so vast it could level mountains. Naruto's stomach twisted as he read about the Nine-Tails' attack on Konoha twelve years ago, a catastrophe that killed countless shinobi and left the village in ruins.He turned the page, and a new term jumped out: Jinchuriki. The word was unfamiliar, but the explanation made his breath catch. Jinchuriki were humans who had Tailed Beasts sealed inside them, vessels for their power. The book described them as both weapons and outcasts, feared by their villages for the monsters they carried. Some were revered, others shunned, their lives marked by suspicion and isolation. Naruto's hands shook as he read, the words blurring slightly. Feared. Shunned. Isolated. It felt too familiar.His mind flashed to the villagers' glares, the word demon spat at him in the streets. Was that it? Was he… a Jinchuriki? The thought hit him like a punch, stealing his breath. He flipped through the book, desperate for more, but the details were vague—no names, no specifics about Konoha's Jinchuriki, just cryptic mentions of "sacrifices" to protect the village. The Nine-Tails had been sealed away after its attack, the book said, but it didn't say how or into whom.Naruto's heart raced. He wasn't stupid—he could piece things together. The timing of the Nine-Tails' attack, twelve years ago, matched his age. The villagers' hatred, the way they called him a demon… it couldn't be a coincidence. Could it? He slammed the book shut, his chest tight with a mix of fear and anger. If he was a Jinchuriki, why hadn't anyone told him? Why had the Hokage, the teachers at the Academy, even Anko, kept it a secret?He shoved the books back onto the shelf, his movements jerky. The librarian glanced up, frowning, but he ignored her, his mind too full to care. He needed to know more, but the library wasn't enough. These books were too careful, too sanitized. The real answers were out there, in the village, with the people who knew the truth but wouldn't speak it.As he stepped back into the sunlight, Naruto's resolve hardened. He wasn't just a kid anymore, scrabbling for scraps and dodging fists. He was Uzumaki Naruto, and if he carried a monster inside him, he'd find out why. He'd confront the Hokage, or track down someone who knew the Nine-Tails' story. Whatever it took, he'd uncover the truth about himself—and what it meant to be the village's demon.
