IMPORTANT:

This is not Boruto, or Hinata, or anyone hating Naruto.

Some people seem to be getting the essence of this story twisted, and this is to just set things straight. This isn't about Boruto's hate for Naruto or Hinata's pain. This is about a 'what if?'. Maybe there was one time when Boruto felt abandoned, as he does n the Manga and Anime, as he wants to prove himself, he wants attention. Boruto doesn't like how Naruto doesn't have time for Hinata either, similar to the situation with Himawari's birthday. So, please, do not assume I'm part of the 'Naruto's a deadbeat dad and Boruto hates him!' squad. This is Hinata feeling a tiny bit hurt over the fact she can't have Naruto to herself, but still having to teach Boruto to be considerate and understanding. Boruto had the moment of realizing he would get attention from Naruto, and Hinata to understand she doesn't have to wait for him forever, and that Naruto can work for the village, but mend the relationship between his family also. Now, I'll see if this clears your apparent confusion of this up, because I don't care if you don't like it, you have the right to state your opinion, my problem is your disliking it for the wrong reasons, reasons this story has nothing to do with.

Remember, this is fanfiction.

She was devasted.

The food on the table on was cold, her white dress was stained from the sauce, her hair was disheveled, and her smile was falling.

He was a clone.

"I'm-I'm Sorry, Hinata. I-you know I love you, don't you? There was a lot of work to be done at the office, ya'know? I needed to be there."

Hinata's eyes watered slightly, but she tried to swallow bubbles of air down, and ignore the burning in her throat.

"You needed to be here today, too." She murmured, and Naruto didn't really catch it.

"And I swear to you, next week we'll have the most awesome day ever! We'll talk, and go out to dinner, or a local fair, or we'll even visit Neji's grave, whatever you wanna do, okay?"

Naruto stared at her desperately, his hands grabbing her own. "Hinata?"

Hinata's lips formed into a line and she gave him a half-hearted smile. Her long strands covering her eyes.

"Of course! Naruto, it's fine. I'll see you sometime next week, alright honey?" She hoped he ignored the shakiness of her expression.

Naruto grinned kissing her softly. "You're the best Hinata. What would I do without you?"

He bit his lip, dropping her hands. "Are—are you sure it's okay? Because, if you really want me to, I can stay another hour or so—"

Hinata shook her head furiously.

"I'll see you, okay? Me and the kids will be fine."

Naruto seemed unconvinced, she could tell.

But the puff smoke that was always left behind was still there anyway.

And she was standing alone, as always.

Hinata stared at the empty space in front of her and whimpered. She fell back onto the couch, burying her face in her hands.

Why wasn't he there? For anything?

After all these years, was she not good enough? Was she a disappointment? Was she so horrible that he couldn't even bear to look at her or the kids she beared?

She found herself relapsing. Reverting into her self-deprecating tendencies.

And it got worse, every time she felt his presence wasn't with her, or when she woke up and the mattress only left a hollow imprint of what was once there; She was being dragged backward, into the hole she worked so hard to climb out of.

Her insecurities, doubts, and fears molding together just do they could trap her in her own existence.

And she didn't know how to stop it.

When she married Naruto, she felt proud, accomplished. She was the example of what a Hyuuga should be, she had married the man of her dreams, her kids were beautiful, and she believed she raised them well, people told her she was perfect.

So why wasn't he there?

Hinata exhaled, her chest constricting, her nose scrunched.

And just as a atrocious, ugly sob was about to rip it's way up her throat and force itself out of her lips, a voice brought her back.

"Mom?"

Hinata looked up slowly, only to meet electric blue orbs.

He sat down next to her on the couch, gazing at her, and she could just feel the concern originating from the depths of his heart.

"Are you—are you okay?" Boruto grabbed her hand, his thumb caressing her knuckles.

Hinata blinked, because, wow.

She smiled softly, ruffling his hair.

"What are you doing up, Boruto? Go back to bed." Hinata caressed his cheek with her other hand, smiling weakly.

Boruto didn't move.

Hinata frowned, removing her had from his face. "Boruto…" Now.

Boruto huffed, crossing his arms.

"I wanna help, mom."

"I'm fine, Boru. But since you seem to be in such a helpful mood, you can stay up for another forty-five minutes, helping me, and that's it. Now, would you help me clean and put the food up?"

She asked as she hurriedly stood, dropping his hand.

Boruto nodded softly.

They were in silence for the first ten to fifteen minutes, excluding the little 'here you go' s and 'thanks you' s.

When Hinata asked for the rice balls, head turned towards the refrigerator, Boruto lost it.

He couldn't stand it; how—how could she be so nonchalant?

Boruto couldn't help himself, he growled, retracting the bowl of rice from his mother's reaching hand.

Hinata, confused by the lack of solid in her right hand, turned to face Boruto.

"Why do you love him?"

Hinata furrowed her eyebrows. Why the sudden change?

"Who, Boruto?"

Boruto's face contorted. "Dad!"

Hinata was dumbstruck. "Boruto—"

Boruto's fingers gripped the plate harshly, the edges of the object cracking.

"He doesn't love you, mom," Mmm, that stung, "He doesn't love me, or Himiwari! He doesn't love any of us! He sends clones home on days that matter! And even when he's home, he walks straight up the stairs with a wave of his hand and disappears in the morning! We're not a family of magicians, be should be here!"

Hinata inhaled, her lips pursing. "I—"

"And we should just leave, mom. He can have his crappy village, and his crappy office, and his stupid title as Hokage. Because he definitely doesn't want the title of a good father, or even a decent husband!"

Boruto slammed the bowl on the floor, hands curling into fists, and fingernails digging into his skin.

The shattering of the object made Hinata flinch.

"He's never here, mom! So why should we be here? He's stupid, and pathetic, and lame," Boruto's nose scrunched, "All I've ever wanted was to prove…! To show him that—that, we're worth it. We're worth his attention…"

Hinata's eyes saddened.

"Boruto, I'm sorry. But you need to know he loves you—"

"No, he doesn't," He fractured, "All he loves is that dumb cloak on his back! Screw him and this whole village! We don't need him! He wasn't there for seven birthdays, thirteen anniversary's, forty-one holidays, and two funerals. All that was there was a shadow, a clone who only lasts for twenty-five minutes! And mom, he can't teach us! He can't teach me how to fight, how to laugh, how to cry, how to love; love my siblings, love my kids, love my wife! All he can teach me is how to be a deadbeat dad and a lousy ninja who didn't do anything but save himself from dying!"

"Boruto!' She was enraged.

"And you stay! And by staying and loving him you're being weak! You're fooling yourself, your filling yourself with disillusionment because he never, and ever will love you!"

And suddenly skin met skin.

And instantly his face stung.

And immediately he was reduced to taciturnity.

Boruto slowly looked up, meeting his mother's blazing white eyes.

She spoke, her voice was hard, raspy and words burned.

"He loves me."

Tears streamed down his face.

"He loves Himiwari."

He whimpered.

"And he loves you."

Boruto's knees gave out, and his mother caught him, hauling him into her lap.

Hinata hushed him, rocked back and forth, placing his chin on her head; sitting in broken shards of ceramic, and cooked grains of rice.

Boruto enshrouded his face between Hinata's neck and hair.

"Why doesn't he care," His voice cracked, "Why is being Hokage so much more important than being a father?" Boruto wept, his breathing ragged and his eyes burning.

Hinata nuzzled his head, whispering, "It's not more important to him, it's just a little more urgent."

She kissed his temple. "He loves us."

Boruto wailed, nails imbedding themselves into her back. "But that's not enough!"

And Hinata felt her own tears wetting her cheeks, rolling past her chin, dropping onto her collar bone.

She bit her lip, feeling a resentment for Naruto for making their son cry, for gifting him sorrow.

She felt resentment towards him, for making their daughter ask, 'is daddy coming home today?', for making herself question her worth.

For him not being there.

Hinata continued to rock back and forth.

"He loves us."

"He loves us."

"He loves us."

And for now, that's going to have to be enough.

For a while, they just rocked. And they didn't know if it had been hours, or minutes later, but Hinata realized her son still needed sleep.

And that her legs were cramping badly; that position wasn't exactly a meditating stance.

Once they both stood up, walked up the stairs, and made it to Boruto's room, Boruto decided he still wanted the answer.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you endure it?"

Hinata sighed, clasping her hands together in front of her.

Why not give him a little insight into her heart?

"Fidelity."

Boruto raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

Hinata giggled. " My loyalty for him. Ever since your father and I were young, I always supported him, even when he wasn't, well, aware of me."

Hinata gave a Boruto a sheepish smile. "And I mean, those two decades of bliss were nice, of course. But I still know how to handle it when he can't pay full attention to me."

Boruto disagreed. "But, it wasn't like that when you first got married!"

Hinata ran her fingers through his hair. "Well, that was before he became Hokage."

And that seemed to set Boruto off.

~He's even brainwashed his mother.~

Boruto's eyes closed, only for a split second, and without her ninja training she would've written it off as a blink.

And they opened, and some sort of coldness was there.

A hardening.

Then he scoffed, kissed her cheek good-night, and shut the door to his room; after he walked inside.

Hinata could've swore she heard a 'I'll show you, I'll show everyone.'

But she wrote it off as the wind coming from an open window at the end of the hall.

Naruto sat at his desk, staring at his family portrait. Guilt eating him alive.

Shikamaru walked in, hands stuffed in his pockets. "You ready for your meeting with Kabuto, Naruto?" Naruto's eyes dragged upwards.

Shikamaru had to leave his family too, didn't he?

Why was he so much better at managing it all?

Naruto sighed, staring at his wife longingly.

"Yeah."

'I'm sorry.'

He walked out with Shikamaru, shoulder to shoulder.

'I love you.'

And he knew that could never be enough.

Hi, ya'll.

Well, hope you enjoyed.

Now, if you didn't read at the top, like I told you too, and it wasn't some stupid reason i put that up there. As if you're familiar with my writing, I never put notes at the top, but this was drastically bigger then keeping my routine. If you have an issue with this, or feel it's a Naruto hate fic, go read the top. So you can hate it for the right reasons, thank you.

Also, this was hard for me to write, as it was my first Boruto, so don't take the OOCness into account.

Remember, ladies and gentlemen, this is Fanfiction.

I tried to make it longer, stretched out as long as I could, without taking away from it's core; but it didn't work out for me; you probably could tell.

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, R&R, love you strangers, have a good day. Chimichangas'.

Love, R.A.