Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Hinata gazed wistfully at the scene in front of her.
A little boy with sparkling cerulean eyes snickered gleefully as he ran with all the speed his little legs could muster in an attempt to flee his assailant, only to be caught and catapulted into the air by a blonde haired man. The little boy shrieked loudly, his voice echoing through the park before dissolving into a fit of giggles as long fingers tickled his sides.
Menma.
That was what the little boy was named.
As the newborn had been passed around and cooed at, already born with a full head of wispy dark hair, his name had been announced. Everyone had all chuckled and accredited it to the blonde's love of ramen. Not many people knew the real reason Naruto had chosen it.
Hinata had only known because Naruto had once spilled the secret in a drunken confession many years before when they had talked about families. With shuddering sobs Naruto admitted that if he ever had a son, he would name the boy to honour a life he could have had in a different time.
Menma had ebony hair which stuck up in messy spikes almost identical to his father in every way but colour. His spiky hair was not the only thing the little boy had inherited, but his beautiful azure eyes and whisker marks as well.
Menma, exhausted by mirth and his father's escapades, yawned widely, the exhaustion from the day's events catching up to him. His father picked him up and tucked him gently to his side, Menma's head fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. It was impossible to miss the wide smile on Naruto's face as he caressed his son's locks, his eyes filled with adoration and absolute wonder for his son.
It was a picturesque view...and one in which Hinata did not belong in.