Call my name and save me from the dark

Stand by me

A/N So...

Yay!

Shikadai's getting ever the closer!

It's Boruto's turn to get whumped (again, but like, different)

...

Himawari was still being kept in the dark. She was scared now.

It was nearing a week. Boruto wasn't normally gone for so long - his longest ever mission before had only been four days. Himawari thought you had to be at least sixteen to go on week long missions. Boruto wasn't old enough.

So why was he gone? Where had he gone? She'd asked mama, but she'd looked like she might cry, and had left the room. When she asked daddy, he promised her they were looking for him, and he'd be home soon.

Why were they looking for him? Had he run away again? He did that a lot. But Himawari knew he always told Shikadai where he was going, yet she'd heard mama talking to Auntie Temari about Shikadai, and that he was taking Boruto's disappearance badly.

What did they mean badly? Shikadai was always calm and easygoing. She remembered Boruto telling her how Shikadai got injured once on a mission, and was really calm about it, and just continued with the mission. Boruto was always raving about things Shikadai had done.

So how could Shikadai take anything badly?

...

Hinata was washing the dishes. She had been for quite some time, scrubbing the same enamel teapot for almost twenty minutes. She stared outside, at the bright, rising sun. Boruto had been complaining about all the rain. Saying it was spring, it was supposed to be sunny. He said he couldn't wait for a sunny day. Now was the first, and he wasn't here.

She scrubbed harder. Boruto had made her this teapot. Hanabi had helped him with the clay. He'd painted it himself, though. Wobbly little bluebells, but surprisingly clear for an eight year old. It was the one they drank jasmine from. Just the two of them. They'd tried to get Himawari too, but she didn't like jasmine tea. She was like her father, thought it was bitter.

So it had always been just those two. She'd last used it on Boruto's birthday, made a pot when he got home from the academy, topping it up as time waned on and Naruto didn't appear. She'd put off washing the teapot. Since they used it every day, bacteria never built up so she never had to wash it. But now, the soggy jasmine pearls at the bottom of the pot had grown mould. So she'd cleaned it. It felt... final.

She didn't like it.

...

Boruto hated it. It felt domestic. And with Kenji, that was wrong.

They were sat on the small sofa, with some kind of cliché soap opera playing. It was in Cantonese, and Boruto didn't understand a word. Kenji did, laughing at intervals. Boruto watched him from the corner of his eye. He seemed so... normal. After a mind-numbing long time, it was over, and Kenji turned to him expectantly. Boruto raised an eyebrow.

"What did you think? It's funny, right?" Kenji said. Boruto just shrugged. Kenji sighed. "You are becoming withdrawn. I've read that feeling trapped can cause people to withdraw and become depressed, which can stunt development and growth-"

"I am trapped. What did you think was going to happen?" Boruto snapped. Kenji's small smile flattened. Crap.

"Don't interrupt me, Rabbit. It's rude. You're not trapped, we're just waiting until the bad people stop trying to take you from me."

Bad people? Was he talking about his dad? What did this guy think he was, five? He glowered at him. Kenji pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Come, Rabbit. I have something to show you," he said. Boruto reluctantly got to his feet, following Kenji into the kitchen. Kenji unlocked one of the cabinets, pulling out a white plastic bag. Again, no supermarket label. God dammit.