Drawing Reality by blackdragonflower

Summary: Color. The picture formed by a child is the purest. A present from son to father. Shino Shibi father-son fluff

Characters belong to Naruto by Masashi Kishimoto

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The brunette toddler was laying on the floor scribbling with his crayons. Shibi smiled and sat on the floor beside his son. "What are you drawing Shino?"

The child immediately covered it with his arms protectively. "You can't see it yet! I'm not done!"

Shibi ruffled his son's hair. "Alright Shino." The adult took one of the many sheets of paper and picked up a blue crayon. Shino was scribbling with the brown. Shibi began to sketch the form of a mantis. Shino looked over and wrinkled his nose.

"Daddy mantises are green not blue!"

Shibi chuckled with a slight smile. "That may be true Shino but this is just a drawing, it can be whatever color I like." The child blinked then nodded, a slight pout on his lower lip. Shino remained pouting as he resumed coloring his mysterious drawing. Shibi was getting curious. What could his four year old son be drawing?

Shibi's kikaichu slipped secretly from underneath his skin and yanked the toddler up into the air by his ankles. Shino squealed flailing about. "DADDY! QUIT IT!"

Shibi picked up the picture, his face molding into a soft one. The drawing was crude but that didn't matter.

He and Shino were asleep (or at least that's what he thought he couldn't tell since they were both wearing sunglasses) against a tall tree. Lots of colorful insects were perched around them. Shibi looked at his son who was still hanging upside down. "You drew this Shino?"

The boy silently nodded. "It was a present for you..." Shibi took his son from the kikaichu and hugged him tightly.

Shino cuddled close into his father's warm grasp content and very happy. "Thank you Shino. I like it very much." Shino yawned in his father's grasp. Shibi smiled an idea in his mind. "Are you tired Shino?"

A slight nod.

Shibi carried his son out of the house and into the Aburame clan's groves. He found the tallest tree and sat underneath its wide branches. Shino was holding onto his father's jacket, little fingers curled into the fabric. The child was asleep, the kikaichu in his small body humming gently. Shibi patted his son's poofy hair and rested his head against the bark of the trunk closing his eyes. It was a good time for a peaceful nap. The weather was warm enough, the gentle breeze comforting. He could hear the insects calling to one another when he listened.

Shino Aburame had drawn the picture and it had blossomed into reality. For now his reality was safe from hurt, from pain, and war, but that was just fine.