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When Naruto was younger, and sleeping alone made him anxious, he would go to Iruka and ask his sensei to tell him stories.
He felt snuggled with his head on Iruka's chest as he read some children's book about Konoha's greatest ninjas, or as he made up some beautiful narrative.
He felt safe and accepted and sufficient. He could pretend that there were only the two of them in the whole village, that Iruka was his real father and that all they needed were bad food and fairy tales.
But the reality was marked on his abdomen, on his cheeks, all over his body. The truth was out there, in the village, in the people. He was not accepted or sufficient, and would never be safe, even with all his might.
So he clung to fiction. He listened carefully to the stories until he learned to create his own. About a prodigious ninja who was wronged by an entire village and who had proved otherwise with his incredible power, growing taller than the Uchiha prodigy and charming the green-eyed girl who liked to punch everyone.
Now this story was so out of place, so far from what he longed for, that it made him laugh with his whole body.
But he still kept the memory of Iruka's stories. Especially those that he made up. He liked to talk about love, platonic or romantic; a beautiful, patient and brave love, and sometimes, these stories made Naruto furious.
Because he didn't understand that. Iruka loved him because he had a big heart, what didn't that man love?
But expecting someone else, without any commitment to him, to love him and be something beautiful, patient and courageous? He longed for it for so long that it was pathetic to say the least. But he felt nothing like these stories. He felt no reciprocity. Nothing that was as big as that.
"And the goddess held his heart in her hand ..."
"How?" Naruto lifted his head from the bed curiously. "You can't take someone's heart out without the person dying!" Is there a jutsu for that?
"Shhh, Naruto." Iruka scolded him gently, stroking his hair. "Let me finish the story first."
"Okay." Naruto layed back, tightening the blanket and feeling Iruka's fingers on his hair. Which made him feel lightheaded. Which made him want to cry a little.
'"The goddess held his heart in her hands, and the duke was surprised he was still alive.
He stared at the emptiness in his chest for answers.
'For if my heart warms my blood and makes it circulate so that I live,
how can I lose it and get away from the clutches of death?"
After all, Goddess, am I alive?
Am I dead? What am I without my heart?'After all, has your heart ceased to exist?"
I carry it in my hands. You live. With your chest open and your heart delivered.
And it's blood boils with the promise of a Goddess.That my love will keep you warm. "
Little Naruto hissed, sticking his tongue out and hugging his pillow. Iruka just laughed and kissed his forehead.
"Time to sleep, buddy." Iruka headed to his floor-mounted bed. "May the Goddess warm your heart."
[...]
Hinata held his heart in her hands.
Naruto could think of many ways to explain this sentence. The way his heart, his strength, and his life were too closely linked to her. The way she cared for him. The way a simple smile from her could make his heart beat faster. The way a simple word of comfort from her could make his heart beat slower.
But at that moment he had another explanation.
He was leaning against the door, hidden by the outer depth of the small hallway and watching as his wife circled the room with their son in her arms.
Wife. Son.
It sounded like one of Iruka's stories that he never thought he would fit in.
And yet, there it was. His Goddess who carried his heart in her hands.
"Biuuu," Boruto muttered, his little legs dangling loose as Hinata rocked him, her hands on the baby's waist. "Ana...Anabi!"
The baby seemed pleased with himself as he clapped his hands and smiled at his mother.
"Hanabi?" Hinata asked, smiling back. "Did you say your aunt's name, honey?"
"Anabi!" He stammered again, happy for his mother's approval.
"Aw, my baby is so smart!" Hinata then began to distribute kisses on Boruto's face as he began to laugh and swing his legs even more. Eventually he calmed down and laid his face on Hinata's chest, staring at the door. Naruto smiled when he was spotted by his son.
"Da!" Again he brightened and began to squirm in Hinata's lap, wanting to go to his father, but not able to walk there yet.
Naruto watched as Hinata's face split open, like clouds announcing the presence of the sun, and he could only think of how lucky he was to live this kind of story.
She walked over to him with Boruto still in euphoria and Naruto picked him up, smiling at his son.
"Look! What a beautiful baby! I wonder who was the handsome man who made it..." Hinata rolled her eyes. "Did you behave? That's what beautiful babies should do." He bit his nose very lightly and gently, which always made him laugh and swing his little hands in the air, tilting his body back.
Hinata always positioned herself behind her son, a little tense with how much he swayed, being the overprotective mother she was.
Naruto grabbed his son with one arm and with the other pulled Hinata by the elbow to place a kiss on her temple. She hugged his arm and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. Naruto was going to bend down to kiss her for real, but Boruto started to cry.
Hinata soon put her hands on the child's face.
"What is it, honey?" She had furrowed brows and caressed the baby's face.
"I think he's hungry." Naruto stated, watching his son chew the collar of his shirt.
Hinata began pulling him off Naruto's lap and taking him to the couch. Naruto then decided to put away the shopping bags he had left in the hallway while Hinata layed back against the sofa and lowered the collar of her dress to breastfeed Boruto.
"I can make dinner today." Hinata raised her eyebrows a little incredulously.
Even growing up being assisted for everything she needed, Hinata has always been interested in cooking. So even with private cooks and chefs, she would always take culinary books and practice when her father wasn't home to yell at her about the mess she made or the futility of learning something like that. Naruto, on the other hand, lived happy years of eating pure sodium.
"Hina, you're hurting me. Have a little faith!" She would always have faith in him. But she decided to keep the amused expression on her face, challenging him.
"Hmm," she murmured, turning her attention back to the baby.
"It will be the best food you have ever eaten in your life! Believe it!" Naruto began to move pans while Hinata laughed.
After hours, it was kind to say that the dinner didn't work out. The two then decided to order pie and put together a basket of some fruits and jams for a picnic in the garden.
It was cold, so Hinata wrapped Boruto in a lot of clothes and Naruto's red scarf until you could only see his nose, his blue eyes and the golden hair locks.
"Mom dressed you like a ninja!" Naruto said as he took his son's hands and made movements mimicking the jutsus seals.
Hinata smiled as she spread the tablecloth on the grass and set some pillows as well as the basket with the food.
The three of them ate and talked while some people waved outside the garden and Naruto waved back, a little awkwardly.
"You see, Boruto." The child was now sitting between Hinata's crossed legs. "Dad pays more attention to his fans than to your mom."
Naruto jumped and straightened up.
"Hinata! I'm just being polite, I would never…” The phrase died in his mouth when he saw Hinata's compressed lips trying to contain her laughter. "You kill me."
"The only person who can face Kohona's hero." Hinata joked, but Naruto smiled, because it was true. "I will beat Kurama too, if he wants to protect you in a fight against me."
I would kill you if you tried to hurt her, he heard Kurama's voice, low and grumpy. He smiled even more knowing that Hinata had been able to charm the demon, as well as his son. And deep down, he knew Kurama would never hurt him, either.
"Kurama would never hurt you, that old dog." Repeat that, boy. He just smiled more.
"Don't talk like that. He is a good boy now." Hinata's voice was as sweet as when she was talking about Akamaru.
Don't be all flattered. She is still my wife. Naruto told Kurama. Shut up. Answered the fox.
Naruto's attention went to his son, who was crawling out of Hinata's lap. The baby got down on all fours on the towel-covered grass. Boruto's arms and legs trembled a little because he was not used to supporting his own weight and neither Naruto nor Hinata could even breathe watching the little boy try to crawl.
Boruto held out a hand a little hesitantly, but soon began to move like a puppy, smiling with his own feat and grasping the grass with his chubby little hands.
Naruto looked at Hinata and she was smiling with her hands against her chest, and he could see the tears forming in her eyes. He cried much more often than his wife, but whenever she allowed herself to cry, he felt like crying with her.
"Boruto! Come here!" Naruto called his son as he drifted too far from them. The boy looked back curiously. "Come here, Bolt."
The boy turned slowly and went left, closer to Hinata.
"You want mommy, baby?" Hinata recovered from her shock and smiled at her son, clapping her hands against her thighs to encourage him. He let out a loud laugh at his mother's behavior.
"Boruto, no!" Naruto lamented, as the boy climbed his mother's lap. She lifted him in her arms and kissed his belly, making the baby laugh even more. "I was betrayed and abandoned." He threw himself dramatically on the outstretched towel, his head on one of Hinata's fluffy pillows, throwing an arm over his eyes and sighing.
Soon he felt her body by his side, snuggling against him, and he held back a smile to keep up the drama.
He felt their baby climb his stomach as Hinata moved closer, pulling his arm around his waist and wraping her legs with his. Boruto put his hands against his chest and he raised his arm, just enough for the little boy to see his eyes, and then Boruto let out a high-pitched laugh, typical of the cheerful child he was, and Naruto lost his posture.
He held his son and pressed him to his chest, filling him with kisses on the top of his head.
He felt the déjà vu from when Iruka kissed his head and wished him good night. But Iruka couldn't always be there. Most of the time he was alone. And he knew that Hinata, despite being surrounded by people, was also familiar with solitude.
Was. Because now they had each other, and a little gift from the universe, a symbol of the love built and cultivated between them.
It was a cold night, but his heart was always warm in Hinata's hands.