"Boruto, he'll be here. Don't worry."
"He was supposed to be here hours ago, mom. It doesn't even matter anymore."
Boruto sat, curled up on the sofa, staring out the window at the slowly sinking sun bleed orange across the rain-soaked windows. It was March 27th. His birthday. And dad wasn't here. He'd let Boruto down. Again.
Hinata watched Boruto from the kitchen, face contorted into one of pain. Naruto had better have a good excuse. He'd promised. Naruto had promised to be home for dinner at five. By now, it was nearing eight. She sighed. The cake was still on the counter, uneaten. Boruto had refused to light the candles until Naruto arrived. So they'd waited. And waited. And waited.
Suddenly, Boruto abruptly stood up, storming out of the living room and into the hallway, digging through the rack of haphazardly placed shoes for his combat boots. Hinata followed after him.
"Boruto? What are you doing?" She asked hurriedly, as Boruto kicked his feet into his shoes, fumbling with the laces.
"I'm going out," he snapped. Then he glanced up at her. "Sorry."
"It's okay. But, Boruto, it's getting dark. You shouldn't be going out-" she began.
"I need some fresh air. I won't be long. If he comes home, tell him-"
"Tell him what?"
Turning, Naruto stood in the doorway, soaking wet, and panting slightly. He glanced at the disappointment on Hinata's face, the upset on Himawari's, and the anger on Boruto's. What was wrong with them? Eight was a decent time for him to be home, all things considered. Why… why did Boruto have his shoes on? Was he going out? It was still late, even if Naruto would consider it early. He's about to tell Boruto to take off his shoes when he sees behind them, into the kitchen.
Streamers. Presents. Cake.
Oh. Oh, no no no no-
"Can you move?"
Boruto's voice snapped him back to reality. He glanced down to see his twelve- no, thirteen year old son glaring at him.
"Boruto, I-" Naruto started.
"What? Let me guess, you got caught up in work and lost track of time, right? Thats the normal excuse you give. Or is it something else? What excuse do you have for missing the one day a year where you're supposed to focus on me for once?" Naruto opened his mouth again, but Boruto was on a roll.
"I'm not mad you didn't come, dad. You're never here anyway so it's no difference. This family has learned how to work without you in it. You're never here, so what else are we supposed to do? If you hadn't come at all, I'd have had a pretty good birthday. No, the part that upsets me is that you promised. You promised me you'd come, and you flaked out on me again! I thought keeping your word was supposed to be your Ninja way? You seem to keep it for everyone else, but not for us! Do we just not matter? Is that it? Answer me!"
But Naruto felt like any apologies, and excuses, any defense, died in his throat right there and then. Boruto stood, breathing heavily for a moment, watching him. Waiting for a response. None came.
Boruto let out a cry of frustration and ran past Naruto, slamming the door open and sprinting off into the rain. In seconds, he was gone. Naruto turned to Hinata.
"Hinata, I… I'm sorry. I forgot it was today." Naruto muttered.
"It's not me you need to be apologising to, Naruto," Hinata murmured softly, helping him pull off his jacket and hang it up.
"I'll… go after him," Naruto insisted, reaching for his jacket.
But Hinata gently pushed his hand away. "Leave him. He needs time to cool off."
Naruto bit his lip, giving a final glance out the door. The streetlights were on now. He sighed, and gently shut the door.
…
He'd only been out for theory seconds and his clothes were soaked. His jacket clung to him and he grimaced as every step rubbed the fabric. But it didn't matter. He wasn't going home.
When Boruto had ran outside, he thought it was because he was about to start crying. He'd felt the burning in the corner of his eyes, but he was Uzumaki Boruto! He didn't cry! So he'd ran. But now he was alone, none came. His stomach rumbled, and he frowned. He hadn't eaten since lunch - had insisted on waiting for dad before they had dinner. So they hadn't in the end.
He kicked at a pebble on the pavement, watching with satisfaction as it skidded away before flying down a drain. His feet were probably the only part of him that wasn't wet. They were good boots. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, bringing them up to his face to blow on them. He was shivering - but only a little. No reason to go home. Boruto didn't want to face his dad anyway. Didn't want to hear what stupid reason he had to give. But then, if Boruto wa s planning on staying out, he should probably find somewhere dry. Hypothermia wasn't on his birthday wish list.
Sweeping his bangs out of his eyes from where they'd plastered stickily to his forehead (maybe mom was right - he did need a haircut), Boruto continued walking, glancing around for somewhere to take cover from the rain.
After a little while, he spotted a doorway to a block of flats. He hurried up the little steps, then walked under the cover. Dry. He let a victorious smirk cover his face - that is, until he glanced down. He was like a rain cloud himself, with the amount of water he was dripping off. He grimaced, and started to try and squeeze out the water. He went to take off his jacket, but when the night air hit his goosepimpled skin, he wrenched it back on. He groaned and sank down to the ground. He couldn't even do anything. Everywhere was shut due to the rain (Boruto had thought this ridiculous, but now that he looked at the overflowing drains and the slightly flooded streets, it was understandable), and everyone was at home. It was too far to walk to his friends houses, and most of them would likely be asleep. Only person who fitted those categories but would let him in anyway was Shikadai, but the Nara compound was on the other side of the village, and if he remembered correctly from overhearing his mom listening to the news earlier, the main pathway was flooded. There was another, but it would take twice as long. So that was a dead end.
With a sigh, Boruto pulled out his phone, wincing and shaking off the water droplets. He switched it on, and thankfully it wasn't broken. Anymore, that is. The screen was already badly cracked. There were a few messages from his parents, asking him to come home. Telling him it was late, it was dangerous (how was rain dangerous?). He shoved his phone back in his pocket, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin. He peeked at the watch around his wrist. Quarter to nine. He'd been out a while. He always liked that watch. It was sturdy, he never had to change the battery (he forgot most of the time with other things anyway), and it was pretty damn accurate. His dad had given it him for his eighth birthday. His… dad…
Boruto fumbled with the strap, wrenching it off, then throwing the watch away. It tumbled into the flow of water, gently being carried towards the drain. Boruto expected some feeling of vindication, but instead he felt a pang of regret. He stumbled to his feet, scrambling down the steps and making a mad dive, ramming his hand down the drain to catch the watch. He managed to grip it by the edge of the strap, and let out a sigh of relief. That was stupid. His phone pinged again - another message, probably. He pulled it out, glancing at it. It was dad.
Please, Boruto. We need to talk
He was probably right. Boruto switched off the phone, but just as he was about to put it in his pocket, he noticed something. A shadow, reflecting behind him, in the phone screen. The street light he was under was dim - broken, most likely. But before Boruto could turn to see what it was - a stinging pain in the side of his neck. Fumbling hands reached for it. A needle. No no no no no-
The whole world seemed to spin, colours bleeding together. The rain quieted down to a gentle thrum, and all Boruto could hear was the slowing beat of his heart before everything went black.
