Chapter Text
Four small children are lost, damaged but not broken.
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Within the dark cupboard of an average suburban house lies a small, dark haired boy on a bloodied cot. His body trembles in exhaustion and fear and hunger as he wonders why his relatives hate him so. Alone he cries, wishing for the pain to stop, but most importantly, he wishes for a savior as he slowly falls asleep.
Down in the dank basement of unsuspecting farm house, a little boy squeezes rainbow eyes shut tight, unable to escape the ties that bind. He shakes and screams in agony as a knife slowly carves into the golden skin of his small chest, hoping against hope his real family will come and save him. When the darkness comes, he welcomes it with open arms.
Hidden within the dark and dirty alley a tiny blond boy is battered and covered in blood, lying on the dirt ground. He curls into a tight ball, unable to move any further than he's gone so far. His bruised body aches but it's his soul and heart that truly hurts. As he collapses, abandoned and miserable, he wonders when his family will come and help him.
A tiny wisp of a girl whimpers and curls up in the thick duvet on her large bed as images and words repeatedly flash through her mind. She doesn't cry or call out for help, not when Daddy’s away again and the only other living creature within her home are house elves. She wishes to find those like her, alone and forgotten, so they can be a family.
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In the grand scheme of things, the wishes of four children seem useless and insignificant. Why should Fate waste attention on them specifically when much of the world suffers so? But unbeknownst to these tiny sufferers, their seemingly innocent prayers have begun a path that will shake the world to its core.
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The room couldn't really be called a room. It was just a space - a space with water for a floor, no walls to be seen, and an enormous pair of iron gates. Behind those sealed gates?
A nine-tailed demon.
Contrary to what most people believed the kyuubi wasn't a thoughtless mass of chakra. He tended to be ruled by his emotions, true, but he possessed the ability to think and reason.
After spending centuries with his kind before roaming the world freely, creating havoc as he went, it was difficult to suddenly be confined. Then to get another taste of freedom, no matter how temporary or controlled before getting jailed again....
The kyuubi understood why the Fourth Hokage had sealed him away. The damage he caused, the lives he'd taken - the demon was glad the shinobi stopped him, even at the cost of the man's own life, as he literally could not. That reasoning didn't stop the anger towards the blonde shinobi, himself, but most of all, Madara.
He wanted - no, needed - revenge.
But the kyuubi was a realistic fox. Sealed away in baby, that desire was improbable - for now. So he spent the majority of his time slumbering.
Watching through the eyes of the jinchuuriki as he grew only caused anger at those who would abuse a defenseless kit for what he unknowingly held inside him and frustration at the kyuubi's own powerlessness. So he dozed instead and waited patiently for when his kit could comprehend.
Indeed the human child was his in a way none of his previous holders could ever be. How could the child not when his thoughts and feelings constantly bleed through the connection they shared, even as the kyuubi slumbered? He could knew of the boy's fear of the villagers and his longing for a family, his determination to be great and the immense inner strength he'd yet to uncover.
The demon would teach the kit to be even stronger, in every way fathomable. To never give up and to survive and flourish as the underdog. Because until he made the rest of the world see him for who he was and not what he held, they would consider him lower than the ground they walked upon.
And if he happened to stop Madara while he did so then all the better.