Minato Namakaze, Fourth Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, knew something was wrong the moment his son, Naruto, shuffled across the Hokage manor's master bedroom and slipped into bed. Naruto pressed his belly against the man's lax arm. His warm breath ghosted over Minato's skin, causing the tiny hairs to stand.
Flipping over, Minato wrapped his arms around the six-year-old. He clutched his son to his chest, tightly. Stroking his son's hair, Minato heard Naruto's breathe hitch.
"Another nightmare?" the Hokage whispered. He checked the alarm clock on his nightstand. 1:47 am. Damn.
Naruto shook his head. He sniffled, loudly—his nose obviously congested.
Minato sat up, alarmed. "Naruto, are you sick?" he asked.
His son shrugged. His lack of words was proof enough. Minato moved his hand so it cupped Naruto's forehead. Warm. Not enough for a doctor's visit, but he was warm enough for some worry.
"Stay here—I'll be back in a moment."
Minato shimmied his covers off and got out of bed. With three long and hasty strides, he crossed the room and stepped into his bathroom. He flicked the light switch, and he sifted through the medicine cabinet—that also acted as a mirror. He cursed under his breath once he realized that the children's cold medicine was missing. Either he left the medicine downstairs or they were out.
Returning to his room, Minato found his son sitting up. Tired eyes blinked, lethargically. As the bathroom's light casted onto Naruto; it revealed the boy's pallid skin, flushing cheeks, snot dripping nose, and cracked lips from breathing through his mouth.
Yep. Naruto was sick.
"I'm going to see if there's medicine downstairs. If not, I'll ask Kakashi to go buy some," Minato said.
Nodding, Naruto rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.
Minato stepped lightly down the stairs. Though he was Hokage and one of the strongest ninjas in the country, creaking stairs on a dark winter night still gave him an eerie feeling. A soft glow from the living room seeped into the threshold of the house—where the stairs led to—catching Minato's attention. He stepped from the final step silently and peered into the room.
Perched on the leather arm chair, next to a shaded window, Kakashi Hatake stroked his masked chin while reading Icha Icha Paradise. Minato's eyebrows twitched with irritation. Not only was his ex-student reading one of those books, but Kakashi was still awake at such an awful hour. That meant Minato would deal with a late-Kakashi in the next day.
Minato rapped his fingers against the archway's frame. Kakashi raised his head; however, his droopy eye never left the book. Sometimes, Minato wanted to smack Kakashi for his lazy and nonchalant attitude.
"Yes?" Kakashi said.
"Naruto is sick," he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "I don't think it's too serious."
"Maybe that's why he failed his exam today," Kakashi flipped the page in his book.
"He failed an exam!" Minato exclaimed. "Why am I just hearing about this now?"
"Naruto told me not to tell you—that he would do it."
"And you believed him?"
"He was rather upset. Plus, it wasn't an important exam."
"An exam is an exam!" Minato said. "Which one was it?"
"Just the academy taught hand-to-hand combat," Kakashi looked up from his book, finally. "Naruto being sick would explain why he performed so poorly. You and I both know that he excels past the basics."
Minato studied the boy—or man, rather. It was still hard for Minato to believe that Kakashi was twenty, nearing twenty-one. A week ago, Kakashi announced that he was moving into his own apartment by the end of the month. Minato imagined the Hokage's manor bare without his quirky ex-student. It was not like he could force the young man to stay (unless he made it into a mission, but that would be abusing his power). Minato would miss having a built-in babysitter.
"Why didn't he tell us that he was sick? Or the teacher?" Minato grumbled, rubbing his left temple.
"You'll have to ask Naruto," said Kakashi.
Saying goodnight, the Hokage retrieved the children's cold medicine. In the cupboard with the food spices and tea packets, he found the purple bottle sitting on top of the storage container holding his vitamins. Cheering, he left the kitchen and continued to his room.
Naruto dozed as Minato sat on the edge of the queen-sized willow-framed bed. Gently, he shook his son's shoulder. Naruto coughed, his throat gritty. He stared at Minato with crusted eyes.
"Sit up. You need to take some of this," Minato wiggled the medicine in front of Naruto's face.
The six-year-old mumbled about its flavor. Minato chuckled.
"Last time I asked, you preferred the grape over cherry," he said. "Now, don't make a fuss. There's something I need to discuss with you."
Minato poured the thick syrup into a spoon. He waited until Naruto struggled into sitting position and leaned heavily into the hokage's side. Opening his mouth, Naruto's face scrunched with disgust as his tongue made contact with the medicine. He gagged it down.
"Water?" Minato asked.
Naruto smacked his lips and nodded. Minato reached for the glass of water he kept for nights on the nightstand. He offered it to Naruto, and his son drank, greedily.
"Why didn't you tell me that you failed your exam?" Minato asked once Naruto finished.
The glass cup slipped from Naruto's finger. Minato caught it swiftly. With his son's wide blue eyes trained on him, Minato wondered if he approached the subject too abruptly, especially when it was 2:21 am and his son was sick.
"Kakashi told me…you're not in trouble for failing. I'm more concerned about you withholding important information from me," he said, softening his voice. "That includes you not telling me that you were sick. I could have asked your teacher for an extension."
"I didn't know," Naruto said.
"Didn't know what?" Minato cocked his head, confused.
"Didn't know I was sick," the six-year-old muttered. "Just felt tired."
The hokage found it strange that someone could not tell if he or she was sick. Then again, Naruto was only six. And Minato always noticed the signs before his son did. This caused him to wonder: how come he did notice the signs this time?
"How long have you been feeling tired?"
"Couple of days."
Damn! How could he miss the signs? A tired Naruto meant a cranky Naruto who refused to listen to anyone. It meant whining over what to eat for breakfast or when to go to bed. A tired Naruto meant a note from his teacher explaining an instance of disrespect. It also meant a clingy Naruto—where the six-year-old cried and begged his father to take him to work.
Normally, Naruto was a sweet, kind, and energetic kid. However, when he was sick (which wasn't often), he was almost too much for anyone to handle. That was how Minato knew the signs before Naruto actually became sick.
Minato contemplated for a moment. In the last few days, a delicate situation rose amongst him and the council; it forced him to leave earlier in the morning and come home late in the evening. And before that, the Village Hidden in the Sand hosted that year's chunin exams. Minato took a two week trip to the village, leaving Naruto in Kakashi's care. And before the chunin exams…
He stopped himself before his thoughts spiraled around the fact that he hardly had time for Naruto. Most of the six-year-old's life was spent being passed around Kakashi or other jonin-level babysitters. Only one day a week did Minato have off; and even then, he was on-call.
Minato talked to Naruto about his absence often. He needed to make sure his son knew he loved him. That the duties of the hokage affected the lives of every citizen living in his village. The excuse seemed lame in Minato's mind—what father leaves their child alone for so long? But it was the truth. Naruto accepted that, at least, the boy claimed to. Yet, there were times when Naruto watched Minato leave in the morning with such craving. Minato's throat would clench, and he would have to hide the wetness forming around his eyes.
"Naruto," Minato said, thickly. "I want you to answer me honestly."
His son shifted, looking at him through the fringe of his blonde bangs.
"Are you lonely?" Minato asked. He knew the answer, but he needed to hear it for himself. Let the words of his son shroud him in guilt.
Naruto's head dropped. He stayed silent. That confirmed it. Taking a shuddering breath, Minato hugged his son. He rubbed Naruto's small back and kissed his fevered forehead.
"I'm going to take the rest of the week off," he announced. He would still be on-call, but he earned a break from the plethora of paper work in his office.
"You don't have to," Naruto's twig-like fingers fisted Minato's shirt.
"You're sick, and I am going to take care of you," Minato said. "I can push back my responsibilities for my son. Besides, if anyone has a problem, I'll tell them a hokage must take care of all his citizens."
Naruto's lips twitched and formed a small smile.