Boruto Uzumaki

“Because you deserve a better father than the one I turned out to be, and I can’t take back what I did. Or rather, I can’t turn back time–” He paused, nose wrinkling in momentary confusion. Was it turn back time or fast forward? “–and do the things I should’ve done, like spend more time with you. And I’m sorry I put you through that ‘ttebayo. I know what it’s like to feel ignored, and I never meant to put you through that.” 

There was a gap of silence as he took her in, or so it felt that way. Analyzing, comparing, assessing what to do? Hinata appreciated the look in his eyes. A good sign that he used logic and understanding when dealing with the unknown. Naruto-kun often jumped into situations at Boruto’s age without thinking. While matters came out favorable for him, most didn’t have that same luck.

“No, I’m tired of getting my hopes up.”

He’d had to strain to catch the whispered words, the noise of the party ceasing to exist as soon as he did, as though those words had opened up a black hole that’d swallowed him whole. Fear prickled in his chest and he knew that if he didn’t say something right now, his son was going to walk out of his life, possibly forever. He opened his mouth, but words failed him; the one time in his life when his needed to have the right words ready, and they refused to come. 

But Boruto wasn’t done.

“You might be a good Hokage but you’re a terrible father! You barely spend time with us anymore and there are so many things I’ve wanted to show you. You think I’ve been happy playing with your clones?”

His vision blurred as tears sprang to his eyes. Was that what he’d done–left clones for Boruto to play while he was at work? He couldn’t believe that, not when the him right now would’ve sent the clones to do his Hokage work while he spent time with his son. 

“Boruto, I’m-” But how does one apologise for that; ‘sorry’ seemed inadequate. He attempted to reach out when–

“I don’t want you as my dad anymore.”

His hand faltered, then fell back to his side. There was a dull ache in his chest, as though someone scraped his insides and hollowed him out. His lungs couldn’t quite manage to get enough air. Still, there was something he needed to tell Boruto. He let out a soft breath, paying no attention to the tears that rolled down his cheeks everytime he blinked. 

“I’m so sorry… for everything, and I understand why you’re angry. You have every right to be ‘ttebayo. But please, please don’t cut me out of your life–you don’t have to acknowledge me as your father, god knows I don’t deserve that title, just…” A pained smile spread across his face.

Hinata: Well I mean… maybe someday…! Right?

w/ borutothebest

Himawari couldn’t believe her eyes. Could there really… be people who vandalised other people’s property for fun? She didn’t think there were those that thought such a crime was fun, but then again, there were a lot of things she didn’t yet know about the world. Himawari was young, although that wasn’t an excuse to uphold justice around the academy. 

“Hey!” One hand was at her waist, the other pointed ( quite aggressively ) at the culprit,  but she could not pinpoint exactly who she was pointing at. “That’s not a very nice thing to do!” 

The little Uzumaki summoned up her meanest scowl, one that was capable of wilting flowers.  “If you don’t stop that right now, I’ll… I’ll call the police!!” 

Glancing down at the rounded fabric. Hands are quick to flatten it some, which was pointless. The moment the Uchiha pulled back it returned back to how it was. “Eh? Yamanaka-san had the dress picked out already, so kinda?” Heat immediately returned, coloring both cheeks. “I dunno, your face is pretty gross so a mask couldn’t hurt.”

Though Sarada knew she looked ridiculous Boruto wasn’t getting one up on her, no way. “Anyway it’s just.. we are not home, at all. The people here are different too. We know some of them but they are not who we think they are? Kami, it’s so weird to say it out loud. For example, Yamanaka-san is.. younger? and she’s not getting married to Sai-san..”

“You’re one to talk,” he bit back. “You should be wearing a paper bag on your head.” Then people wouldn’t know it was her in that awful, white, poofy, thing. As soon as he’d said it he felt kind of bad; this was no way to talk to a girl, but he couldn’t help it, the dress was awful. 

Bolt. They named him bolt. No secondary meaning was possible, off top of his head and he blinked as a way to keep his expression from shifting to befuddlement. Who knew Hinata had such an…eclectic…taste in names? He supposed being married to a man named fishcake gave a different perspective to things.

“Like me,” he confirmed, offering a head-bow from his position. “Hyuuga Neji,” likely your uncle, he didn’t add. Not least becasuse of the ‘supposed to be dead’ thing.

At the boy’s confession - and an addition of yet another bizarre name - Neji shifted to indicate Boruto could take a seat next to him. “Fair enough,” Neji said. “I’ve done this enough to know I don’t wish to drag my heels behind the crush of people trying to get to the bar.”

Not that that was an option for his conversation partner.

Hyuuga Neji. The Uzumaki let the name settle into his mind; it was familiar, he concluded. Neji... “Neji-ojisan?” he voiced out loud. Unless this was a different Neji in the family. But he recalled his mom telling him about his uncle... the one that had died during the Fourth Shinobi World War... the one that inspired his name. He deduced with about ninety percent certainty that this was the very guy, as he had not seen him before at any of his mom’s clan events... and the name matched up. 

That small flicker of hope began to grow at the view of his smile. Causing her own to widen, but quick to bite her lip to control it. “Hai, Hima-chan has been here for a little bit now. She.. has done well in explaining things to us, or.. at least helping your father and I understand.”

A silent sigh leaves her, “I promise.. if I can do anything to–..” lighting up at the thought.. “Byakugan!” Veins surface around her eyes, creating slight shadows across once pale skin. Cheeks warming; Hinata didn’t like being seen like this, it was.. uncomfortable in a way. But it was for his sake and hopefully this helped earn the child’s trust?

A few moments later the heiress’s skin flattens, blinking off the feeling that came with such a shift. Focus returning, “to be honest Boruto-kun, I’m still learning about this place too..”

It was difficult enough to accept what happened at her age, but for a child? Glancing down at the ground, expression narrowing as that fact sinks in rather hard. --To be literally torn from his family and to end up here? What if she or Naruto-kun never made it?? What of their children…?!

Fast realizing this was not the time. A quick shake as her expression softens. “All I’ve come to understand is.. we’ve all ended up here at d-different points of our lives.” Gazing at the blond again, “for myself and Naruto-kun it seems.. just before the war. But there are some here that have shown up before it, or in your case long after.. Even people that died in say my time are alive here now.” Fingers hooking together in her lap, “I do not believe we died however, I just.. don’t have answers yet.”

“Where is she? Do you all live together?” His eyes furrowed in concern, thinking of Himawari being here with their... strange (for lack of a better word) parents. “How long... has she been here?” And how did she get here. What if he had failed her as a niisan by not being here to protect her? 

The young Uzumaki watched the familiar sight of her Byakugan activating... just like his mom’s back home. As far as he knew it wasn’t something that could be imitated or replicated by jutsu. 

He took in her words, but couldn’t help but stare at her, still processing her younger appearance, doing his best to accept that she was his mom... kind of. His head cocked to the side slightly as he studied her and thought back to the pictures at home he’d seen of her when she was younger... whens he looked just like this. 

His son’s words were a swift punch to the gut, and though he’d faced some really strong adversaries and had toed the line between life and death in some instances, he’d never felt pain like this before. Except when Sasuke left. Though he called the Uchiha his best friend, he really considered Sasuke a brother. And when the raven had left, it had left a huge hole in his life. But to have his own son want to leave him… 

Anger blossomed in his chest, a heat that travelled down to his fists, and he clenched them hard, feeling his blunt nails etch crescents into his calloused palms. He was beyond furious–not at Boruto, of course, but at himself. How could the future him have let things get this far? He was supposed to have been a good parent, perhaps not the best parent, but certainly not the man his son had described. He took a shallow breath, and tried not to let his anger show; he didn’t want the younger blond to misinterpret and assume the anger was directed at him.

Instead, he smiled, though it was strained, the corners of his lips tight with hurt. “I…” His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. Eyes lifted briefly, and peered through the glass into the wedding reception, where he spied Hinata and Himawari. “I’m sorry, ‘ttebayo. But if you’d just give me another chance…” He finished helplessly.

He glanced at Naruto and saw the pained look on his father’s face but swiftly looked away. Boruto tried to fight the lump in his throat and the frown on his face grew. He resisted the urge to forgive his father once again and give him yet another chance. He didn’t want to put up with this shit anymore. “No,” he whispered harshly, turning slightly. “I’m tired of getting my hopes up,” he admitted. “You always ask for another chance and you always say you’ll do better or you’ll spend more time with me, but you never do.”

The uzumaki family in this roleplay is adorable! -Anonymous