"Boruto!"
"On it!"
There he stood. It was difficult to see him; the sun had long drifted away and every star was obscured by clouds. But he was there.
The god damn, mysterious, hooded man.
Since their last altercation, both Boruto and Shikadai had recognized that standing around doing nothing again would be the very definition of insanity. Allowing him to make his intentions clear first? Not a chance this time. A major adjustment needed to be made to their approach, and as two young, combat-hungry ninjas, a decision wasn't all that difficult to reach.
Strike fast and strike hard.
As if instinctively, Boruto raised his hands to form the familiar hand-sign produced often both by himself and his dad in battle. His fingers—barring the index and the middle which were maintained extended—curled into the palm of his left hand. As his right hand attempted to mimic the pose however, a wince coupled with a pained shriek escaped him. It was only then had Boruto noticed his swollen wrist.
Damn it, I knew something was up! Stupid old man! Boruto shook off the distracting thoughts. There was no time for this! Their escape route from this mayhem was right in front of them, and like hell was a little swelling going to let it slip away. With a deep inhalation, a bloated chest and a sudden adrenaline-surge, Boruto completed the stance.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
Four identical Boruto clones accompanied the two, each possessing matching scowls.
Now it was Shikadai who'd produced the signature hand-sign he and his dad often had. "Shadow Possession Jutsu!" A strip of black fired from underneath him and darted towards the cloaked man.
And in what was a surprising turn of events, their shadows were linked. Shadow Possession Jutsu: success.
...In his first attempt.
The shadow connecting the two maintained a linear shape. At no point did he divert the spear in another direction; it wasn't necessary at all. The man hadn't even tried to parry or evade. No hesitant step back. Not even a flinch. Something wasn't adding up.
"Good stuff, Shikadai! My turn!" Both the Boruto clones and the original all launched themselves from the ground with a battle cry.
"Wait, Boruto!" yelled Shikadai, jabbing a hand out in his direction.
But his plea was drowned out by the inarticulate roar of the clones. The intention was to restrain him for questioning later. So, what better way to go about doing that than with a crushing blow to the skull, shutting his lights off and knocking him unconscious?
Each clone balled a fist and drew it back. It was his left hand, the slight weaker of the two, but considering the condition his other hand was in, it'd have to do for now. It wouldn't be a one-hit finisher, but three more follow-ups should do the trick.
He was nearing closer and closer. Poor bastard just stood there, unable to move a single muscle. Boruto wished that his face hadn't been so obscured by the cloak, just to see the look of hopelessness and pure defeat on his face. He briefly wondering if he was a screamer, or an easy-bleeder. He was about to find out; the man was finally in range. He fired out his fist, targeting right for his face.
The satisfying bone-crushing sound wasn't audible. He certainly didn't feel any contact, either. And all he could see was… grass?
Green and brown smeared onto his face as it uncomfortably skid across the ground. He groaned in pain, then turned his head cheek-down to spit the dirt out of his mouth.
He missed? What the hell? No, there was zero chance of that being a possibility; he was being restrained by Shikadai's jutsu for goodness sake. Boruto shifted himself to all fours and turned his head round. Every Boruto clone had managed to miss the mark somehow, each of their expressions transitioning from fury to surprise as they landed awkwardly back onto the ground.
He went through him?
Boruto stood to his feet and dusted himself off, adjusting his clothes slightly. "A fake?" he asked, puzzled.
Shikadai retracted his shadow and straightening his legs. His thoughts slowly began piecing everything together. So that's why he was so overly calm about the whole thing.
Boruto undid his jutsu and walked towards the projection, waving his hand through it a number of times as frustration slowly settled in. "Damn it. Now the guy's playing mind games with us now."
"Am I?" The hooded man broke from his stiff stance and spun without warning, striking Boruto's gut with the heel of his footwear and launching him far across field.
"Boruto!" Shikadai yelled. He drew a kunai from his pouch, gave it a single twirl around the ring then held the hilt tight. The longer they were exposed to him, the more and more complicated he seemed. He materialized?
"Damn it bastard, what the hell do you want with us?!"
"Me?" the same gravelly, hoarse voice spoke. He slowly turned to face Shikadai; head first, and then his entire body. "I just wanted to talk."
Shikadai pulled his lips back into a snarl. "Talk? Talk? This is the most you've ever spoken and now all you wanna do is just talk? About what?"
"I have a deal to propose."
Shikadai gave him a quizzical look. "What?"
"A deal. You help me, and I give you what you want."
An imperious howl threatened to escape his lips. "And what exactly is that?"
"You want to go back… don't you? Back to your friends. Back to your family."
Shikadai's grip on the kunai loosened. He stood frozen as if he had been caught by his own jutsu.
"Back? The fact that our cover's been blown should've drastically changed the future already. It shouldn't even be a possibility anymore."
He could almost hear him smirking. "You still haven't figured it out, have you? I had assumed the son of Nara would have gotten it by now."
Shikadai stood there, stupefied. He didn't even want to bother expending energy into making any sense of it. The only thing that flooded his mind was… home. Going back home. Its warmth and familiar comfort. Eating dinner with Mom. Playing shogi with Dad. Meeting up with Inojin, Chōchō and Moegi Sensei the next day to do a basic D-rank mission and then being rewarded with barbecue right after. Coming back home to see his parents laying down on the porch with fingers intertwined.
A strained laugh disrupted his thoughts and captured both their attentions. Boruto slowly stood with arms grasping trembling knees. "You bastard… you—" a hoarse cough interrupted him, blood fleeing from his throat and splattering across his chin, "…you send us out here, against our will… and y-… you think we're just gonna trust you? No deal."
"Oh? But you haven't even heard what I had to say yet. And how do you intend on returning without my aid?"
Boruto brushed the trail of blood away with the back of his hand. "You won't have a choice after I'm done."
Boruto held out his faulty arm and began channeling chakra to his hand, fighting off the wince that begged to be projected, eventually forming a spiraling white ball of light—the Rasengan. The hooded man burst forward with absurd speed, grabbing the swollen wrist with a grip that rivaled the one his dad had on it earlier and detonating the Rasengan in his hand. Boruto let out a distraught cry as the man then spun the wrist round a hundred and eighty degrees, prompting Boruto's knees to buckle slightly, then immediately grabbed his neck with other arm, briefly lifting him off the ground and slamming him onto it, causing a violent, devastating eruption.
"You're much too like your father… brash, short-tempered," he said as Boruto struggled in hold, flailing his legs about and swinging desperately at his face, only just reaching short. "You do before you think… and now it's costed you your life."
"Wait!"
The hooded man leaned his head back.
"Wait. This deal of yours. We'll hear what you have to say." Shikadai dropped the kunai and held his hands up in defeat. "Just let go of him."
"D-don't… t-… trust… him… Shi-…!" Boruto stammered through clenched teeth, unable to muster enough strength to ball fists anymore and now resorting to pitiful open-palmed strikes, still missing the mark.
He turned his face to what Shikadai presumed was enough for the man to lock into a stare. "Hm… perhaps there is a bit of your father in you after all, seeing as you've adopted his more… rational approach. Wise choice. You live." He snapped his head back around and tightened his grip on Boruto's neck. The atmosphere surrounding them now thick and ripe with chakra, nearby rubble lifting off the ground and levitating. "I'm afraid however… the same can't quite be said for your companion."
"Oi! I-I thought said you needed Boruto as well!"
"Two of you would have been preferable, but just one will suffice. I would have assumed today's events would have helped skew his decision, but apparently not. His reluctance will only make things more difficult. He dies."
"Then no deal!" Shikadai bent down to pick up the kunai he'd dropped earlier then adjusted back into a fighting stance. "Either he lives or I want no part of it!"
"If you want to see your friends and family again, then do as I say. If you want to follow in his footsteps, then you die by his side and I toss your corpses away without your parents ever knowing of your fate. I chose the two of you based on your backgrounds and credentials but make no mistake, I can just as easily find suitable replacements. Choose your partner wisely, boy."
"Sh… Shik-ah—" Boruto struggled, his eyes beginning to roll to the back of his head.
"I've already decided!"
Shikadai launched himself to the air and threw the kunai among a number of shurikens in his direction with precision even he himself hadn't known he'd possessed. The hooded man looked back only briefly to locate their positions, dug his free hand into his pouch, then effortlessly countered each one with the same weaponry.
He began sprinting towards them the moment the soles of his footwear came to contact with the ground, faith draining from him with every step. Damn it, I wasted too much time! My shadow won't make it! I won't make it!
Boruto's eyes began to close shut, unable to even raise his arms anymore to fight back or claw with.
"Shit! No!" Shikadai screamed in helplessness.
He was mad. Mad that he allowed himself to fall into a trance like that. Mad that he just stood there dreamy-eyed like some kid whose parent waved a piece of candy at to bribe them with. Mad that he was running towards them knowing damn well he wouldn't make it in time. Mad that he couldn't do anything, just like he couldn't do anything during that incident. Mad that he allowed his eyes to soak at a time like this. Mad that he wasn't conserving his energy for the beating he wanted to unleash on him.
The hooded man drew closer to the deathly pale boy, finally within striking range, as if mocking him. "You're finished."
"Damn it, no! Boruto!"
"Die!"
"Eight Trigrams: Air Palm!"
With a ferocious yet controlled wave of energy, the hooded man was catapulted far across the field, put to a halt by a collision with Shikadai's body, transferring the momentum and knocking him back.
Shikadai crashed hard and unceremoniously onto the ground. His field of vision alternated between the floor and the sky as his body spun round until it was put to an abrupt stop by a firm grasp on his back. He sat up slowly, finding comfort somehow reclined against the large hand. He shifted his gaze up higher, scrutinizing whoever it was supporting him.
Jet black hair that was tied back into a ponytail, very much like his own. Standard Konoha ninja gear with little, if any, variation to it. A near spitting image of Shikadai himself, though his face appeared far more mature, and his eyes lacked the pronounced teal pupils. A groomed beard of a shade similar to his hair completed his appearance. He was staring at… at…
"D-Dad?"
"Not quite."
He leaned in closer to Shikadai's ear, not taking his eyes off of the cloaked man. "As a shinobi… you never quite know how a mission will turn out or if you'll even live to fill out the reports for it. I'm glad I've at least lasted long enough to meet my grandson."
Boruto laid there without moving a muscle. All of his energy, or whatever was left of it, went into breathing in harsh, hacking gasps, eager to introduce air back into his lungs. Frankly, he couldn't give a damn who had saved him. Not right now, at least. He was too in love with the prospect of air occupying his airways, cleansing his blood supply and reintroducing itself to his brain. He was just in love with the air in general, and if it were a physical being, he would've gotten down to one knee already.
After his weird infatuation had eventually worn off, Boruto thought a "thank you" was in order to whoever it was that had come to his rescue. Perhaps even lend them a helping hand. Though, with the way his body refused to get into a seated position, let alone stand, meant that he'd probably have to sit this one out. Hadn't stopped him from trying, though. Maybe he was too much like Dad for his own good.
"It's alright, Boruto. Rest. We will take over from here."
His voice hadn't given him away. Boruto looked up and allowed a moment for his vision to adjust. His legs were spread into the famous Hyūga stance, and his long dark hair flowed eloquently with the wind, alternating between concealing and exposing the bulging veins that surrounded his pale eyes. He couldn't really recognize him with closer inspection of his face, but he knew he had to be related to Mom, somehow. Distant relative, he concluded for now. He was too exhausted physically and mentally to delve on beyond that. Right now, he had to maintain all of his focus on the person that was just seconds away from taking his life, slowly helping himself up.
The hooded man dusted off his cloak and looked either side of him, presumably eyeing down the two new faces acting as guards. Despite the fall, that damn hood stayed securely in place, as if the thing was permanently attached to his head. He was indecipherable, making it difficult to predict his next moves. He was just extremely unpredictable in general.
And what he did next had only supported that.
He raised his hands up in surrender. "Even I know better than to take on this many opponents at once."
The pain they were in wasn't enough to mask the look of sheer confusion on both Boruto's and Shikadai's faces.
"You two could learn something from this: pick your battles wisely. Perhaps I'll spare the two of you the next time we meet—oh, and believe me, we will. Perhaps I'll even consider offering the two of you one final opportunity to return to your 'time.' I'd consider it if I were in your positions."
With a one-armed hand sign, he was gone in a puff of smoke.
Boruto shot to his feet. "Hey—hey! Come back you cowa—"
They gave out before he could finish and he quickly dropped to his knees. The Hyūga rushed to aid and expressed his concern, but Boruto didn't respond, nor was he even really listening. He just thought about the hooded man and what he said. Pick you battles wisely. He held up his right hand and glared intently at it. He was in no condition to fight, and neither was Shikadai. So he watched as the smoke settled and accepted the harsh, blunt reality: they had failed. He had failed.
Shikadai occupied his thoughts with something else that he said. The next time we meet. He had a purpose with him and Boruto. He needed them for something. He will come back for them with the proposition. That, or to finish off the job.
And they'll be ready for it.
A hand fell on his shoulder and kneaded it gently.
"C'mon. Let's get you both checked up."
"I'm fine Aunt Ino, reall—ow!"
"No you're not, now stop resisting already and sit still, would you," she demanded, wrapping the bandage around his arm. "Honestly, you're just like Shikamaru when it comes to this stuff, always putting on that tough guy act. So not as cool as you guys think it is."
Shikadai had to restrain his eyes from rolling. Man, she can still be pretty troublesome at times…
Ino abruptly stopped. "You just thought I was troublesome, didn't you?"
Shikadai blinked a number of times. Are we really that predictable?
"Yes, you are." She resumed with brows noticeably more furrowed than before. He stared at her, dumbfounded.
She tore off the excess bandage and sealed the remainder shut. "There, that should do it. Try to take it easy the next few days. Don't want these wounds reopening, do we?"
He shook his head feebly. A small smile tugged on her lips.
"Good. We were looking everywhere for you, y'know. Chōji and I."
"Huh? You were?"
She nodded. "Yup. After… well, after… y'know, we just wanted to see how you were doing, and all. We thought you'd be at Shikamaru's, but he said you hadn't stopped by once. That's when we worried a bit and started our little search. He didn't even bother helping out, the lazy goof."
"He… didn't?"
She paused from clearing away her medical equipment and swayed her head side-to-side. "He assumed you were with Temari, is all. Probably isn't ready to see her just yet."
He nodded hesitantly and lowered his head, the anguish on his face not even the slightest bit inconspicuous.
"Hey, c'mon now, don't make that face. You're gonna get me all choked up. Just… just give them a little time, okay? I can't imagine how weird it'd be to have a kid from the future show up one day and explain to his parents that they get together and have a bunch of babies. Even if it was painfully obvious to everyone 'cept for those two dumb geniuses."
He chuckled humorlessly, gaze still at the tiled floor. She placed the side of her curled finger under his chin and tilted his head up.
"Look at me. Your parents are two of the most stubborn people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I'd say no offense, but I can't help but feel like you agree with me on this one. I know your dad more than anyone, probably even more than his own parents do. And no matter how tough she tries to be on the outside, I know your mom's a complete softy in here," she said, jabbing the left side of his chest. "Just wait for them, okay? They'll come through. Trust me."
She gave him a warm smile, as if motioning him to mimic her. It certainly succeeded, as he found the corners of his mouth quirking up. She lightly flicked his nose and resumed placing her equipment back into her kit.
He admittedly had a soft spot for Aunt Ino. He could always count on her to let him hide at hers for a bit whenever he needed to get away from Mom, just so his cheek could stay pale for a little while longer. Speaking of Mom…
"Hey, Aunt Ino?"
"Mm-hm?"
"Where is Mom?"
"She'll be here soon," spoke a familiar voice.
The curtain that separated the cubical from the rest of room was pushed aside.
He walked towards him with a slouch and hands stuffed in his pockets. Dad's old man. His grandpa. Shikaku Nara.
It always astonished him how much he'd looked like Dad in Grandma's photo albums. Dad was literally one bad fall down the stairs away from being an actual shadow clone of him.
He hadn't missed the way Grandpa's face softened at the sight of him, or the way his apathy traded for poorly-disguised enthusiasm. The hand on his back... it was the first form of contact he'd ever had with him. He wasn't there to hold him at his birth. He wasn't there by Grandma's side when Mom and Dad had left him in her care while they were away on missions. He was robbed of all that.
Shikadai thought back to what he said earlier. I'm glad I've at least lasted long enough to meet my grandson. That hurt to hear. A lot. If this little trip managed to do something right, it was making this into a reality.
"How're you holding up?" he spoke with a voice that wasn't strained by years of excessive smoking, confirming that he is in fact not Dad.
"I'm fine," said Shikadai. Ino scoffed, before he continued, "Boruto got it a lot worse than me."
"So I've seen. They're taking good care of him, though, so try not to linger on it too much."
He nodded. "How did you guys know we were in trouble?"
"We didn't."
Shikadai looked at him skeptically.
"Lady Tsunade needed you and the other one for further questioning. She assumed the process would go a lot smoother if approached by those the two of you were probably already familiar with, instead of a couple of masked ANBUs. My partner was able to locate you two with his Byakugan, and believe me, he wasn't particularly pleased when he saw the other kid's throat being crushed. I wish I could say the dramatic hero entrance was entirely intentional," he finished with a husky snicker.
Even his laugh sounded damn-near identical to Dad's. Sheesh, did his dad not adopt anything from Grandma? At least Mom's genes put up some sort of a fight.
The curtains moved aside again. Ino leaned her head back to catch a glimpse of whoever it was that had decided to join them unannounced. Shikaku stood and turned around. Shikadai elevated his gaze.
Teal eyes were locked in a stare with teal eyes.
Mom.
In the same way he could recognize that rare, special smile of hers, he could also recognize when the guilt and remorse that fortified within her was kept hidden with an insincere, stoic expression.
She walked towards him, paying no mind to the two others that occupied the cubical. She crouched down to his level and began inspected his injuries, turning his hand and raising his leg to get a clearer view.
Her fingers took through his hair, re-positioning the loose strands that curtained his face back over his head. She dabbed a thumb onto the tip of her tongue, then used it to gently wipe away the spec of blood that was smeared on his face.
"Are you okay?" she whispered, so quiet only Shikadai could hear her.
He nodded slowly, careful not to disturb her gentle caresses.
"I'm sorry," she whispered again. Shikadai wasn't particularly sure what it was exactly she was referring to, but the hurt in her eyes and the repressed quiver of her lips, as if she was blaming herself for what'd happened, was all he needed to forgive her anyway.
A hesitant cough prompted her to move her hand away and stand back up almost immediately, much to his disappointment.
"Sorry to interrupt, but seeing as you're here and Shikadai's cleared to go," Shikaku turned to face Ino for confirmation, who then nodded confidently, "I think it's time we started heading home." He began stroking the back of his neck nervously. "Your grandmother will have a go at me for bringing along two guests unannounced."
His words gradually dawned on her.
"Oh—oh no no, that won't be necessary, really." She held out a hand and waved it as if brushing aside the offer.
"I'm afraid it wasn't a request. It was an order."
Uh-oh. Temari's faint smile turned to a menacing frown almost instantaneously. Both Shikadai and Shikaku visibly gulped.
"Excuse me?" Her eyes narrowed.
He ignored the venom in her voice. "I should clarify; it was an order from Lady Tsunade. She wants you under our care for the remainder of your stay here in Konoha."
She crossed her arms. "While I appreciate the concern, I am very capable of looking after myself."
"And I don't doubt that. But you have to recognize that with your... ties with Shikada—"
"Mother."
"What?"
"Mother. I'm his mother."
Shikadai's lips parted. It was the first time she'd openly acknowledged herself as Mom. He hated the rush of warmth he felt through his body. Damn it, when did he turn into such a mushy sap?
Shikaku gave a single nod. "Hm, right. And as his mother, that puts you at risk along with him."
"I still haven't been given any reason as to why I need to be put 'under care,'" she gestured with her fingers, "by anyone, as if I wasn't already a full-fledged jōnin myself with years of battle experience."
"The property will be surrounded by both ANBU and my clansmen. I'll also be there keeping a close eye on everyone. Shikamaru will be there t—"
"I don't need to be protected by a chūnin."
"We both know he's one by choice."
She said nothing.
"It goes both ways, I should add. As Shikadai's father, he'll be at risk too, and you'll be there to support him. Most importantly, it adds another layer of protection for Shikadai."
She said nothing again. She did want to protect her son. She absolutely did. The sight of him black and blue and being held together by plasters and bandages was enough to incite feelings of pain and hurt and anger and rage, so much so that she almost wanted whoever it was that did this to him to show up, just so that she could club the person repeatedly with her tessen. But, she also didn't want to see… him. Not yet. She wasn't ready.
"Temari. You have to recognize that if you were to get hurt—"
"I won't."
"If, you were to get hurt in Konoha, it would sever the ties between our villages and you know that."
She inwardly sighed. It was true. She did. Even if her brother Gaara did everything in his power to convince the elders and higher-ups of her village that Konoha had little do with her death, the relationship between the two countries would never improve, given her position in the village. Certainly not to the extent that it was now. Worst case scenario? Another war breaks out.
She'd never be allowed to visit Konoha again. Well, she'd be dead, anyway, but the two are basically interchangeable.
"Please," Shikadai said in a small voice, tugging slightly on her glove.
She stared into his teal eyes, wide and carefully hopeful, and for a brief moment, she forgot everything. She forgot about the way Shika-Dad's feet tapped impatiently against the floor, motioning her to give a response sooner. She forgot about the way Ino was clasping her hands together and pouted as if she was one of the lucky contenders that got to take the Sand kunoichi home with them. She forgot about the way Shikamaru shunned her when she called out to him back at the restaurant and how it affected her more than she was willing to admit. All she remembered was that there was an endangered child who wanted, no, needed his mother by his side.
She slumped her shoulders in defeat and ceased her struggles.
"Fine."
She ignored the way her heart melted when he beamed at her. When did she turn into such a mushy sap?
"Ssss, ah!"
"Sorry! Sorry about that, Boruto," Sakura said, resting his swollen hand onto the material she intended to form the sling with. "Whoever that guy was really wasn't going easy on you two."
"Hmph. Wasn't even him who did it. It was my stupid old man."
"Oh? Did something happen between you two after I left?"
He lowered his eyes. She stared at him blankly for a while, until he'd started to get uncomfortable.
"It was nothin'."
She gave him an unconvinced nod. Boruto scratched the corner of chin with a finger, uncertain about how to proceed.
"Hey, uh, Aunt Sakura? Sorry about what I said earlier."
She gave him a quizzical look. "Huh? What d'you mean?"
"You know, right before you left. About Uncle Sasuke, and stuff. I didn't mean for you to run off and upset you, or anything like that."
She looked at him with the same blank stare, as if she was replaying the events in her head. She then chuckled lightly, getting up to tie the sling behind him. Boruto raised a brow, though she couldn't see it.
"Oh, no no. I wasn't upset, Boruto. Don't be sorry!" He heard her sigh from behind, like she was pondering on what to say next. "It was just… knowing that I have a daughter with... with Uncle Sasuke, it was—"
"Ow! Easy!"
"Sorry! Sorry." She leaned over his shoulder to get better look at his arm, then attempted to tie the sling again with more caution. "It was a lot to take in at the time. I just needed a little bit of space to think it all over, that's all. I'm not upset, I promise. Actually… I'd say I'm pretty far from it."
Content with her knot, she walked back around and crouched down, giving him a reassuring smile with eyelids shut and cheeks tinged pink. Boruto glared at her, slightly mesmerized. Fine, she is sorta pretty, I'll give her that much. Y'know, she looks a lot like Sarada…
His eyes widened animatedly. Did I really just think that?! Blegh. I really am going insane here. He shook his head, hoping the thoughts would fall right out.
"Sarada."
Boruto choked harshly on the air, dramatically clutching his chest with his free arm.
"Wh-what?" he stuttered.
"Sarada Uchiha. That's my daughter's name, isn't it?"
"Uh, um," he coughed out the hesitancy in his voice, "right, yeah it is. That's right."
"Tell me a bit about her."
"About… her?"
She nodded. "Yeah, like… I don't know… her dreams and aspirations, maybe?"
He put a hand to his chin, though he already knew the answer to that. It was more so to make for extra time to allow his pounding heart to settle.
"She wants to be the Hokage."
"Oh? That's very ambitious. I hope she isn't screaming it from the top of her lungs every chance she gets like your dad or anything," she finished with a snort.
He both wagged a finger and shook his head. "No, god no, thankfully not."
"What about you?" she asked.
There was a small pause before he responded. "What about me?"
"Don't you also want to be the Hokage, like your dad? Wouldn't that make you and Sarada, like, rivals with each other?"
Boruto shook his head again. "Nuh-uh. I have zero interest in ever being the Hokage. She can take it for all I care. Me… I just want to be a cool shinobi, one just like Uncle Sasuke."
She stared at him, and it felt as if he was being examined by her. Her eyes eventually dropped to her hands that fidgeted on her lap.
He continued, "And I'll be her right-hand man and guard her when she becomes Hokage."
A sly smile slowly crept onto her face. He really didn't like that.
"To guard her, huh?"
"Uh… yeah."
"Aaaand, why is that?"
"…No reason."
"No?"
"Nuh-uh."
"None at all?"
"Nope."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes ma'am."
He tugged on the collar of his shirt. Did someone start a fire nearby, or something? Somebody open up a window already, geez.
"What does she look like?"
He had really hoped she would've moved on to something else already.
"Ah, well… she has… dark hair, I guess."
"My eyes?"
As if he didn't know the answer to it already, he studied her emerald green eyes, then shook his head. "They're more like Uncle Sasuke's."
"Is she pretty?"
Yeah. She was definitely insane.
"WHAT?!"
"Do you think my daughter's pretty?" she repeated.
"Wh-wh-what sorta question is that?!"
Sakura shrugged her shoulders as if she hadn't just sent his entire body into a complete frenzy. "I'm just curious to know what my daughter looks like, is all."
She let a teasing smile slip for just a second before her lips returned to neutral. The psycho was doing this on purpose!
Before he could open his mouth and either respond with words or gargle out some inhumane sound, there was a knock on the door. It creaked open slowly, and pale eyes peeped through the small opening. The door then pushed open even further.
It was the Hyūga from before. The man deserved an even bigger thanks for saving him twice, now.
"Has he been treated?" he spoke in a cool, calm voice, letting himself into the room.
Sakura got out from her seat. "Just about. Come on over, Neji."
A/N: Sorry about the long wait. Hopefully the super long chapter makes it up to you guys, hah.
Surprisingly, a decent number of you guessed correctly that Neji would make the save. I can't tell if you guys are just that observant or if my writing is just that painfully predictable, lol. But, I didn't see anyone guess Shikaku making the save, so it's one-to-one.
Threw in some love for Ino since she's usually depicted as an asshole in fics even though she really isn't in canon.
Hopefully now you can understand why the Naruto/Hinata interaction is taking a sweet ass amount of time to get to; I had to address Naruto's crush on Sakura first (as did last chapter). Now that that's been rightfully crushed, tossed aside and buried in the ground, we can hopefully get to it soon, so bare with me.
Please review! I only just found out that you can actually respond to them, so come say hi and tell me what you think. c;
Enjoy! :D