The Uzumaki Legacy

Can she trust her friends ?

Hana's POV

I'm tracing the old kunai marks on my kitchen table when a familiar chakra signature bounces up the stairs - warm and bright like sunshine, but with that underlying hint of something ancient and powerful that I've never quite understood.

The door bursts open. "Hana-neechan!"

Naruto stands there, slightly out of breath, clutching a bunch of wildflowers that look like they've been through a war. Dirt smudges his cheeks, and there are grass stains on his knees.

"Did you run all the way here?" I ask, and something in my chest loosens just a bit.

"Well, yeah! Shisui-nii told me you were home and-" He stops, blue eyes widening as he really looks at me. "You look different."

Leave it to a child to state the obvious. "I am different."

He frowns, head tilting like a puzzled fox. "But you're still my Hana-neechan, right?"

The question hits harder than it should. "Come here, squirt."

He practically launches himself at me, flowers and all. I catch him, ignoring the twinge from my healing wounds. He smells like dirt and ramen and something uniquely Naruto.

"I picked these myself!" He shoves the battered flowers at me. "From the Hokage's garden. Don't tell anyone though, okay?"

A laugh escapes before I can stop it - small and rusty, but real. "You stole flowers from the Hokage?"

"Not stole! Borrowed. From the ground." He grins that fox-like grin of his. "Besides, you were hurt! And Shisui-nii said flowers make people feel better."

"Did he know?" I set the flowers in a cup of water, pretending not to notice the roots still attached to some of them.

"Yeah! He also said you might be sad for a while, but that's okay 'cause I can help! I'm really good at making people happy, believe it!"

I turn back to find him standing on a kitchen chair, hands on his hips, looking so determined it makes my throat tight.

"Want to help me make dinner?" I ask instead of everything else trying to bubble up.

"Can we have-"

"Not ramen."

"Aww, but Hana-neechan!"

"How about I teach you to make onigiri? We can put that special umeboshi you like in the middle."

His whole face lights up. "The red ones? Really?"

"Really. Wash your hands first though, you're covered in evidence of your flower crime."

He scrambles to the sink, standing on his tiptoes to reach. "Hey, Hana-neechan?"

"Mm?"

"Even if you're different now, your smile  is still  the same when you're happy. All warm and sparkly, like stars!"

My hands freeze in the middle of getting rice from the cabinet. Trust a six-year-old to say something so simply profound.

"Is that so?" I manage.

"Yup!" He beams at me, water dripping from his elbows. "See? I told you I'm good at making people happy!"

I ruffle his hair as I pass, leaving drops of water in his spiky blonde locks. "Yeah, kid. You really are."

We spend the next hour making misshapen onigiri, Naruto chattering about his day at the Academy, his latest prank on Iruka-sensei, how he's definitely going to be Hokage someday. And if I hold him a little tighter when he hugs me goodbye, if I let him take an extra onigiri for later, well...