[X] The boy with the broken halo
The woman who cares for you is impressed by how quickly you learn. Impressed, and frightened.
"Utako-san, I can assure you, you have no reason to worry. The matter of which you speak is under control; Naruto is a perfectly normal child."
Utako's reply is whispered, but frantic enough that you can easily hear it from the next room. "Normal children don't speak in full sentences at two years old, Lizard-san!"
Owl, whose mask looks nothing like a lizard, sighs. "Be that as it may, we can't transfer him to the orphanage. You know that."
"I know that my contract is up in half a year and I won't be renewing it. That's what I know."
Owl doesn't storm out of the room. If you hadn't caught the murmured words, "Fucking civilians..." as she entered the kitchen, you might not even know she was angry.
"Is something wrong, Naruto?" Raccoon asks, looking up from the book she's reading you.
The three female guards arrived on your first birthday, presumably because it was determined by your previous male bodyguards that Utako has neither the desire nor the ability to act as a suitable mother-figure for you. Irrelevant to your actual needs, of course, but they're nice enough girls and it's better than your social circle being confined to that unsightly harridan and the few children at the park permitted to play with you.
It is a strain to feign interest in the childish diversions they usually provide, and Owl goes out of her way to avoid actually interacting with you as much as possible, but at the moment they are your only real connection to the world outside this apartment.
Now how to answer? A polite denial? Despite the childish phrasing of the book, it is genuinely interesting; it tells the story of Konoha's founding with bright and detailed pictures. Or should you take this opportunity to attempt to remove Utako from your life?
[X] "Mn, it's nothing, Raccoon-nee-chan. Will you keep reading?"
[X] "I made Utako-san mad again." Bait the hook and move on from there.
[X] "Can we go to the park?" It's odd; you hadn't missed sunlight before, but now that it's a part of your life again you can't seem to get enough of it.