A sudden commotion shattered the lazy hum of the crowd. The door to Tanaka’s Grocery flew open with a violent bang.

The boy—Uzumaki Naruto—pushed himself up on trembling arms. His spiky blond hair was dusty. Three whisker-like marks stood out starkly on each of his flushed cheeks. He didn’t look at the jeering store owner or the adults who quickly stepped aside, creating a wide, empty circle around him.

He only stared at the ground, his small shoulders shaking. The brimming tears in his wide blue eyes caught the sunlight, glistening before they spilled over, carving clean tracks through the dust on his face.

From a few yards away, near the mouth of an alley, you watched. The scene unfolded with a horrible, practiced familiarity for the villagers, but for you, it was a fresh, visceral shock.