Raising Naruto

Important Author's note (for once):As you may, or may have not seen, I've abandoned 'A not so Silent return'.I know this will upset many fans, and I've promised a rewrite, but while I was rewriting the chapters, I just couldn't take it anymore. I forgot why I first started the fic, even forgot how I was planning on continuing it, or even ending. And I've lost interest in it. BUT to make up for it: A YONDY-DADDY fic. Which you are reading now. This won't be very long, and not too funny, but I know exactly what I'm going to do with it, and it's going to be SWEET!

Fake Red Walls

This just didn't seem right. The happy, energetic red walls of the nursery seemed grey in his eyes. As if the only real colour of red had been buried along with his wife today. As if the happiness she her hart had given it when she painted it, had been taken back by her death. Red, those walls didn't deserve the name 'red'! They were a pathetic copy of the real deal, a cheap excuse for a colour that had meant everything for him. They weren't worthy of it, just like everything red in the house, the village, the entire world!

Still, he had locked himself in this room, the only red room in the house, for the past day. Why? Because it was the only room in the house which still smelled like her, the last room she had been. They had spend a lot of time in this room the last few days, making sure everything was alright when the baby came. She had been so excited, so ... vividly.

He'd loved this room from the start, the very moment she decided she didn't need anybody to paint or decorate it. He'd always loved how full of energy and love the room had been, from the red walls to the white crib. Now he understood it had been radiating from her all this time. He hated this room for it, yet he couldn't be anywhere else. Because at least this room tried to be red, poorly but with good intentions, while all the others had just turned grey, forgetting about her.

Then he heard something, something he couldn't quite define. 'Is it a voice?' He asked himself. 'Or is it the wind, reminding me I'm alone?' He blamed it on his senses, since they had somehow been turned off since the he had entered this room, he couldn't identify this sound. It wasn't a bad sound, it wasn't a good sound. It weren't words, and it wasn't the wind. Bit by bit, he scratched away the possibilities. 'No enemy ninjas, no walls coming down.' It wasn't a very loud sound, yet it was a penetrating one, and it penetrated his very soul.

It was a cry. Not just a cry, someone was crying. And then he realised, not just someone was crying, his baby was crying.

'Naruto'

Amazing how one word can create an overload in one's brain, and with that single word running through it, his mind stopped working. Instincts kicked in, and Minato finally left his sitting position between the four fake red walls and walked to it's way out: The door. Without realising what he was doing, how he did it or what he had been doing the past hours, he broke the seals, and opened the door slowly.

And there he was, cold and alone on the floor. By the time Minato realised he was holding his son, he had already resealed the room and was sitting at his former spot, again.

His boy had stopped crying, and Minato wondered how long he had been crying before he realised it. How long he had been there, and if he had left him there. He didn't remember entering the room, neither entering the house. He had even forgotten he had a son, but remembered it now, as if he had always known. He suddenly realised why they'd had a nursery, why Kushina had painted it 'red'.

Naruto. His child. Their child. Kushina's child.

He'd never thought of how his children would look like, if he would ever get any. Now he realised he never would even have been able to begin to imagine how beautiful their child would be. His sleeping form in his arms, like it was meant to be there. Small fingers clutching his shirt, as if he was afraid he would ever let him go again. A small chest, rising with every new breath he took, peaceful like the wind. Small eyes with little tears in his eyes were closed, as if he could see his mother in his dreams.

This baby had been their dream, her dream and his dream. But he was no longer a dream, he was real and in his arm, no longer out of reach. Minato too closed his eyes, letting the tears flow for the first time. It felt good, it felt like he woke up from a nightmare, even if she wouldn't be there to comfort him.

Opening his eyes, he witnessed a new kind of blue. For years after that day, people would tell him otherwise, but Minato believed he had first seen the true meaning of blue that day. There he saw Naruto's eyes, wet his father's and his own tears but wide open, staring at him with something that he would later explain as hope. Seeing his father's eyes so empty, the little child started to cry again.

Again, it went through his entire body, shredding his heart into peaces this time. Not knowing what to do, he tried to comfort Naruto with words. "It's okay little one, daddy's here"

Upon hearing this words little Naruto fell silent, his eyes meeting his father's again. This time, they found no void, only concern. As if content, he closed his own and cuddled into his father's shirt, falling back into his previous sleep. His father couldn't help but follow his exsample, and lay down himself, keeping his son on his chest with his arms.

"I'm never going to let you go Naruto." He whispered to his son while staring at the ceiling, which was trying very hard to be red, too. 'Apparently', he thought just before his mind went blank, 'the ceiling is succeeding better than the walls...'

By the time he woke up, the ceiling had become a better imitation of red. Of course, he'd only noticed it after he'd fed Naruto some milk, cuddled him and decided his falling eyelids were a sign of exhaustion and put him into the crib. The walls seemed getting better, too.

But Minato wouldn't be fooled this time, for he knew his son was teaching them how to be red, just like his mother had done.

His arms seemed empty without his son there, every vision different from the sight of his son a waste, so he kept staring at the boy till he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. Though he couldn't sleep, he could listen to Naruto's small breaths. Memorising every detail of them, he opened his eyes again and touched his boy's cheek. Tracking the tree little lines on them, Minato was certain: Naruto was perfect in every way of the word.

Then stood up and walked out of the room, facing the red walls one more time. They weren't the real red, but he couldn't blame them.

After all, it was hard to level the perfection of the colour of his wife's hair, or the colour of his son's smiling cheeks.

For those who didn't get it: The red walls symbolise Minato's outlook on life. Don't think that Minato has come over the loss of his wife, but from now on he'll at least be able to function. It'll take a while before he'll have peace with it.

Well, I guess you got a little idea of what I'm planning to do. Hope you like it. By the way, if you want to see what brought this up: Check the Chapter 439 Raws, and you'll see why.

Review if feel like it, it would make me happy.