Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Uzumaki Boruto, Uzumaki Hinata, Baby Uzumaki
Pairings: Boruto/??, Naruhina, Borudad and baby girl
Author’s Note: Not what I was planning on posting next, but I’ll take it. Thanks in part to matchaball
“She might quiet down if you pick her up,” Uzumaki Naruto stood in the doorway of his new granddaughter’s nursery, smiling at the sight of his son leaning against her crib, his hand dangling down to just brush over his daughter’s blanket. “Babies like to be held, ‘ttebayo.”
“I know,” Uzumaki Boruto, twenty-four year old new dad and recently promoted Jounin, spared his father a glance before looking back down at his daughter, a deep frown creasing his brow. Curious, Naruto went to stand on the other side of the crib, lowering his bandaged hand over the railing to slid his finger into the little girl’s tiny, clenched fist. For the moment, her fussing stopped and her large eyes focused on Naruto.
“You know,” Naruto started, looking over at his son. “I haven’t seen you hold her since she’s been home,” he commented, raising a brow in question at Boruto, who still just frowned down at the squirming baby girl. “Something wrong?”
“No,” Boruto answered quietly, but Naruto knew he was lying. He was the young man’s father, after all! Plus, you couldn’t lie to Uzumaki Naruto. Instead of pressing him right away, Naruto just reached down to pick up his new granddaughter, much to the baby’s delight, and stepped back to sit in the rocking chair. The soft, hand stitched pillows gave under his weight and Naruto let out a sigh, watching Boruto from the corner of his eye as he settled his granddaughter comfortably against his chest, her little head in the crook of his arm. She still clung to his bandaged hand, her cries and whimpers long gone, and now just stared up at him with wide, blue eyes. After a hesitant moment, Boruto came around the crib and sat adjacent for his father on the wooden bin that held all the baby’s new blankets and sheets.
Naruto watched him, quietly assessing the deep lines on his forehead and the bags under his son’s eyes, the way he’d started chewing on the inside of his cheek again, and thought he was beginning to understand what might be bothering his son. Chalk it up to a father’s intuition, or just the fact that Naruto had a knack for understanding people, but he recognized the worry in his son’s blue eyes. The doubt and fear that he tried desperately to hide, and Naruto knew what caused the stiffness in his son’s shoulders, he knew why he hesitated to touch or hold his own daughter, and Naruto knew why he looked so ill at ease. He knew because he’d been there, he’d felt that, felt it all, and he understood. “She’s a good baby. A lot less fussy than you were, ttebayo.”