Minato’s head had come up at the knock, red pen he’d been unhappily using far too much paused above the top sheet in a stack of papers on his desk as he looked up in time to see his son let himself in. Naruto was always welcome where his father was and the tension lines were easing automatically out of Minato’s face before it even registered that his son usually waited for some kind of response before letting himself in. The warning hint was enough that he picked up immediately on the body language his son was giving off and his eyebrows came down over his eyes in concern. Naruto had plenty of problems; Minato was his father, he tried to make sure he kept tabs on his son without stifling him. But his son was a good kid with a huge heart and amazingly resilient. It was unusual to see him looking so subdued.
Even more unusual to have him not blurt out whatever was on his mind immediately.
Setting his pen down, Minato pushed away from his desk, unfolding long legs that matched his son’s as he stood and came around the desk. Whatever his son wanted to tell him, it was obviously important to him and Minato didn’t want a desk between them for that kind of thing. Resting his back against the desk, he reached out to gently ruffle his son’s hair, the always thought that it was too bad his poor son had inherited his hair instead of his late mother’s almost an afterthought this time. The greeting he used was intentionally one that usually made his son groan and roll his eyes over even if the soft tone betrayed that he knew there was more here than usual.
“What’s up, buttercup?”
His eyes followed his father’s movements as he internally weighed his words. Taking a deep breath, he decided to best tactic was to do what he did best- just come out with it.
“Igotagirlpregnant,” he mumbled as quickly as possible. Naruto could feel his blood pressure spiking. There, it was out in the open. No taking it back, no ‘sorry, I meant to say it this way’s. The cold hard truth stared him right in the face, and even though all he wanted to do was retreat and dig himself into a hole deep enough for only him, he had to face the music.
Cowering, he slid further down in his chair and covered his face with his hands. It wasn’t the idea of his father’s anger that scared him the most, but rather the disappointment. Naruto knew how much his father had struggled through the years, with losing his wife then raising a son on his own, and always looked up to him for everything he did. But now, sitting in the hard, oddly-patterned chair, the weight of his mistake fell on his shoulders, making it difficult to think, a sort of numbness washed over him as he awaited the dreaded reaction of his dad.
