What's The Point?✓

Chapter Two

"Boruto! Shush! No screaming, we're at a cemetery!" Dad said as he gave a weak glare. I stopped my yelling and gave my father a harsh look.

"What in freaking hell is wrong with you, Dad! How can you not tell me my M-O-T-H-E-R died? You said she left!" I yelled, my voice cracking on the last words. Dad winced a bit before putting his hands on my shoulders.

"I'm sorry. When she died, you weren't even four. It was easier to explain it that way. Plus, you never asked again, -ttebayo!" I narrowed my eyes.

"Don't -ttebayo me, -ttebasa! I still had a right to know." I mumbled. I mostly understood where he was coming from now.

"I know. I was actually planning on telling you and Himawari tomorrow." Dad's words were soft. I let go of my whatever was left of my anger and looked at him, dead in the eye.

"Why tomorrow, specifically?" Dad looked back at the gravestone, a watery smile growing over his face.

"Because, it's her birthday."

"Her birthday?"

"Yup." Then tears flowed from Dad's eyes. I looked at him sadly.

"Hey, Dad?" My father lifted his gaze to my own. He looked pathetic.

"Yeah?"

"Lets get out of the cold, -ttebasa. You'll freeze." I stretched my hand out. He grabbed it and I lifted him up. Turning back to the gravestone, Dad ran his fingers over it.

"I'll come back tomorrow, Hime. You'll meet Himawari and Boruto, officially. See you soon." We turned around and walked back to our apartment.

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"Dad, your fingers a real red; you sure you aren't frostbitten?" I asked. Dad looked at his hands and flexed them, then looked down at me. My dad's really tall, towering over me with a solid foot.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm alright. I can feel them still." he replied. Fishing for my key, I unlocked the door and let the two of us in.

Our apartment is pretty decent. It's got a big family room, a kitchen big enough for the three of us, a balcony outside, three bedrooms, and two bathrooms. All around, it was a nice place to live.

My father and I removed are winter gear and bounded down the hall to the kitchen. I started to make hot cocoa. Dad sat down, staring at his hands, which were folded on the table. His eyes were still bloodshot.

"Making cocoa. Want whipped cream or nah? Marshmallows will definitely be in there." I called out in question.

"Yup, whipped cream. By the way, where is Himawari? Shouldn't she be home around now?" Dad asked. I rolled my eyes, can't believing he'd forget.

"You signed the form so she could be in Art Club. Its until 5:30." 'And because Inojins in it too,' I thought. Himawari had a huge crush on one of my best friends, Inojin Yamanaka.

She'd stay until 6 at he most, depending on how much she'd try and please him. Pouring the cocoa out, I walked over to the table, setting a cup of the delicious drink in front of him and myself.

"Oh yeah. That's long, huh?" Dad chuckled. I grinned.

"Yeah. They're helping out the school musical right now, anyways. On normal days the club runs until four." I answered back happily. Feeling I was getting to comfortable, I went back to my stoic attitude around him. Taking a sip, I cursed myself. It looks like you want to be closer. That's not the objective. For now, just act nicer. It's a hard day for him, after all.

"Boruto?" I set my cup down and looked at my dad.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"I... Did I look pathetic? Out there?" Dad asked and I smirked.

"Major time. If mom saw you, she'd probably be laughing and comforting you at the same time." I replied with a laugh. Dad smiled.

"You know, thats exactly what she'd do. And hearing you call her Mom, man, it feels so good, -ttebayo." I looked down, flushed a little red.

"And you look like her too, now!" I shot up and glared at Dad, who put his hands up.

"You implying I'm a woman, old man!?"

"No! Just your face and your eyes. They way you blush is exactly the way she would. You kids remind me so much of her." Dad whispered, looking sad again. I smiled a little. It felt nice that my mom and I were alike in some aspects.

"Hey, Dad?" I mumbled. I've been wanting to ask him this for awhile now.

"Yeah?" He said, sipping his cocoa.

"Can you tell me the story of you and mom?" I looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes. Dad set his cup down and smiled. I looked up and he gave me a comfortingly gentle look. I felt like I was ten again, in the warmth of his hugs and stories.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell you our story... let's see, it started back in high school... almost twenty... no twenty four ago now...."