Disclaimer: Christmas isn't mine. Neither is Naruto and all the characters and situations contained therein.

Preliminary notes: Hi everybody! While you wait for me to get off my ass and write up chapter five of Lima Syndrome, feast on this. The idea for this one was born when my baby sister said, back in Christmas 2005, that "children enjoy Christmas more because they don't know who gives them their gifts". I wrote this to show her that that is not always the case and that, as mom says, "sometimes people being there for you is the best gift you can get".

"A Window to the Soul"

By Nocena T. Calamus

There is in Konoha an orphan who lives alone in apartment 601 of the most expensive building. It's no wonder, nowadays in a Ninja village, to find children masters of their own lives. Moreover, it is almost a fact of life. It's no wonder, either, that young people with oppressive parents wish to have that unlimited independence. But even being so free, the orphan of apartment 601, Naruto, would have happily exchanged his independence for oppressive parents or any kind of relationship with any kind of person. He is not what can be called "an associate of society", for he has no family or friends and his days consist of going to the Academy and training alone. With his state pension, he can have everything he needs, but not somebody who needs him.

The greengrocer on the corner mistrusted the orphan of apartment 601, and that is why he sold him the worst products at the highest prices possible. To the neighbours, whom he sometimes ran into in the lift, he was nothing more than an annoying radio and they watched and made disparaging remarks about him. The children of the Academy, whom he always wanted to play with, loved to refuse him and to mock him. But Naruto never allowed his frigid smile to melt away from his face, just in case. In case anyone liked that smile and wanted to be his friend; in case anyone saw beyond the smile and wanted to be his brother.

Many people had seen the lips stretched over those really shiny white teeth, and could think of no reason for the existence of such a smile. All the adults thought it misleading, when not demonic. All the children had learned from the adults to distrust the teeth of the orphan of apartment 601, and they resented their owner for being so free and happy. And yet, that that owner loved them all the more and wished fervently for their approval. Those he cared for the most were the children of apartment 603, a child of blue-black hair who sometimes made an effort to return his smile and his older brother who sometimes let him watch when he trained.

Because he loved everyone so much, Naruto had saved all year most of the alimony the Hokage gave him with the objective of throwing a Christmas party at his home that 24th of December. He had invited most of the children in his class at the Academy and the children of many adults he knew. He had spent days cooking up a feast and had bought every gift considering the needs and tastes of each guest. Naruto was sure that that year, after three failed attempts where nobody had attended, the party would be a success. That 24th of December he sat down to wait beside the tall, baroquely decorated Christmas tree with his big smile on his face.

Eight in the evening, the time when the party began, finally arrived; but Naruto saw it leave accompanied only by his big smile. Nine in the evening also made a short visit. When ten came, the orphan and his smile realized that nobody would come, just as it had happened in the previous three years. And for the fourth consecutive year while the feast was left to cool, untouched, Naruto followed the procedures exactly as he had planned them. He sat next to the multicoloured tree and separated a random package from the pile waiting at the base.

"Lee," he said, smiling, as if the vacuum in front of him was his interlocutor, "this is yours. Go ahead, open it!" He tore off the paper, which had been carefully secured by himself, and found a pair of shiny white sandals. As if he was before the inquisitive eyes of Lee, he felt the need to explain. “Yours are so worn that the soles are coming off, and I saw you looking at this pair in the window. I hope that one day they'll be as worn as yours are today," he finished, and left them in the hands of an imaginary Lee, who sitting in his chair.

"Sakura, this hair pins and headbands are for you. You are much prettier with your face uncovered, and a really pretty girl like you cannot go through life hiding behind her hair. Ah yes, I sewed the headbands by myself, so I hope that you like them."

"Itachi, you're too young to be so serious. I bought this pranking gear thinking of the faces people will make when you of all people use it. You better not leave it to gather dust at the bottom of the closet."

"Hinata, I knitted you this sweater because I've noticed that you are always wearing the same jacket. Cream coloured, because I know that almost all you clothes are that colour. I'm not too good knitting, so I hope that you can forgive the holes?"

"Sasuke, this is the Jutsu scroll you were looking for and couldn't get in any bookstore or library. I searched all over and finally found it last night; a travelling merchant had it. The guy who sold it to me said it is very useful, so I hope you enjoy it."

And so, speaking at air and giving gifts to forced figments of his imagination, he filled the empty twenty-five of the twenty-six seats in the apartment. Right after, he served the cider that had cost him so much effort to get and toasted, alone, for a Christmas shared with friends. He took many pictures of empty chairs filled with opened gifts, clean dishes and untouched food, smiling and asking his guests to smile as well.

A yawn turned his smile into a grimace. It was already twelve o'clock, too late to continue with the fruitless game. The loneliness he felt made him nauseous, so even though he hadn't ate anything the whole day in anticipation, he was not hungry. The table laden with the intact food was not shining invitingly anymore. Naruto, with an inner rage that grew in tandem with his smile, threw away, one by one, each of the dishes that had cost him so much to cook. After all, leftovers were not contemplated in the plans.

When he finished with the meal, he got started on the decorations. Dismantling them hurt him, so he treated each one with love and delicacy, for they had been his only company in this and all previous Christmases. He closed the box that would contain them until the next year with a long sigh, and looked around. The apartment was about as bleak as usual, except for one detail. The unwrapped gifts that rested on the chairs were mocking him with their presence. He accepted their mockery, too, with his icy smile. Tiredly, he put them in a big cardboard box, identical to the other three that contained the undelivered gifts from Christmases past. He triumphed: they were no longer in sight.

Now, the apartment was again empty of happiness, as it should be. It was late and he was sleepy. He longed to return to the world of dreams, where everybody loved him and nobody made fun of him or were cruel to him on purpose. He wanted to go to sleep, but he never completed the first step. His knees hit the floor at the same time as the first tear.

Outside, on the balcony that connected the two departments through a fence, Sasuke, the younger of the two children of apartment 603, watched without being seen as the orphan of apartment 601 lost his smile for the first time and collapsed into tears. The little neighbour, who knowing of the party had not gone and was there just to rub in Naruto's face the ANBU costume his parents had given him, had been an involuntary witness of the whole play. And now he felt like vomiting.

While the orphan of apartment 601 grabbed his stomach with his hands trying to contain the spasms of his sobs, the younger child of apartment 603 grabbed his chest with his hands trying to contain the flood of emotions he felt for the first time. Disdain toward his parents, who forced and reinforced superficiality giving him masks that hide the truth under the supposedly redeeming features of public order. Amazement at the fact that there was someone so pure of intent in a world, his parents had taught him, governed by self-interest and selfishness. Love for the orphan of apartment 601 - no, for Naruto, who accepted everyone as they were and would give his life to get even a second glance. Revulsion, so intense that one language wouldn't suffice to describe it, at himself for having blindingly accepted his parent's mistrust and turning it into hatred.

In less than a blink, Sasuke came to a decision. Faster even he crossed the fence dividing the two balconies, went into his room, took off his disguise and dressed as a person. Before the vaguely inquisitive looks his parents threw him, he grabbed Itachi's hand and dragged him outside the apartment, decided to cross another fence, less tangible and harder to cross.

Three minutes –three years– after he’d begun crying, the orphan of apartment 601 heard for the first time in his life the sound of his ringer. Confused, afraid it was someone who would only want to ridicule him, he composed himself as best he could and opened the door, unsmiling and with tears clinging to his tremulous eyelashes. The two little neighbours from apartment 603 were standing in the aisle that linked all the apartments; the younger, shy and red with shame, and the older, half confused but understanding that something important was going on.

For once, it wasn't the orphan of apartment 601 who started the conversation. Sasuke, uncomfortable, ashamed, said: "Happy Christmas. We're not too late, are we? Mom made us–"

"Yes," interrupted Naruto, and closed the door in his face.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause between the two brothers. Suddenly, Sasuke, angry, crossed his arms and turned his back to apartment 601. "Who does he think he is?" he asked.

His brother, who had just understood, watched the door with an indefinable expression and said, "He's tired. Come on, let's go home."

And when he turned to go back to his apartment, he saw his brother's tears, which had escaped the tightly closed eyes without permission. Looking at the door once again, he drew his brother into a one-armed hug and, smiling almost imperceptibly, he bowed his head as a sign of greeting. Then he walked them back into their home.

This time they had come, indeed, too late. Maybe next Christmas the door would remain open and they would be able to jump the fence that divided their two worlds. For a year, Sasuke would have to be content with the one he already knew.

They never suspected that Naruto had heard them, sitting on the floor with his back resting on the door as he was. He was smiling warmly and gently his first ever sincere smile. They respected him...

The following Christmas he'd invite only two people. And this time, they would come.

End notes: I hope you enjoyed. Hm, did you notice how Naruto didn't get himself a gift? I just now noticed O_o

Flames tolerated, reviews wanted, criticism craved.

Nocena T. Calamus