A/N: His Rose bud 125 wrote in a review that Himawari was likely to "unknowingly change the past without lifting a pretty little finger", and when I read that, I was like, "Yes please". It was such an adorable way to say it.
Anyways, I've been contemplating continuing this fic since I put it up on the Chirstmas poll. I figured, why not. Though, I really just want to write a cute tiny Himawari. So have no expectations for an intricate plot.
The Hokage Mountain has only four heads.
Himawari frowns and kicks her dangling feet. Fake Papa obediently lowers her back onto the floor where she's too short to see through the windows once more.
"Do you understand?" he asks gently.
Himawari bites her lip, nodding. "I'm in the past," she says slowly, "and you're not Papa because you're the Fourth Hokage."
"That's right, Himawari-chan."
She looks down at her toes, and then shuffles her feet nervously. "Then how do I go home?" she asks miserably, because even though the Fourth Hokage is nice, Himawari doesn't really know him, plus this Grandpa Kakashi is grumpy, and she really misses Papa, Mama, and Big Brother.
"Do you remember how you got here?"
Himawari tries to think back, but she doesn't remember doing anything different than usual; she'd been running around the village waiting for Boruto to finish school and play with her, and then suddenly everything was wrong.
Himawari shakes her head.
"That's fine," he says soothingly, no blame in his tone. "How about for now we get you settled down?"
Himawari nods shyly, and the Fourth flicks his fingers towards his Anbu.
"Follow me," Grandpa Kakashi says, snapping his mask back into place. He sounds so stiff, it almost makes Himawari want to giggle. She's too used to the lazy drawl in Grandpa Kakashi's usual tone.
"Okay," she agrees, "coming, Grandpa Kakashi."
Himawari scrambles forward, only to crash into pant legs when the teen abruptly stops. "Don't call me that," he says crisply, and her heart jumps because Grandpa Kakashi never speaks that strictly, or at least not towards her. Papa always calls him excessively doting, and Grandpa Kakashi never denies it. She feels scolded and scorned, and her tummy gives a queasy roll.
Himawari blinks rapidly, fingers curled into her jacket.
"Kakashi…" the Fourth says in the background.
There is a sigh before Grandpa Kakashi lowers his stance. His knees bend slightly until he's perfectly Himawari's height, and then tells her quietly, "Call me Hound instead," pointing to his mask.
It doesn't look like a hound, rather than a squiggly red face. Still, Himawari nods obediently, peeking timidly up at him. "Only if you hold my hand," she barters.
It takes a few seconds, but a hesitant hand finally extends out. It's smaller and colder than the one Himawari is used to, but there's also a familiarity in that strong grip. Himawari beams and latches on with both of her hands so he can't go back on his word. "Let's go!" she urges cheerily, calmed by his grasp and his willingness to concede with her demands. "Bye Fourth Hokage, I'm going with Grandpa Hound," she calls out, dragging him along.
One of them makes a sound like a suppressed whine, but Himawari doesn't know who.
