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“But I don’t want a sister,” Boruto pouted.
He was laying on his stomach on the floor of the Nara household, awkwardly clutching a yellow crayon with his tiny fist as he drew a flower. Shikadai was sitting on the floor next to him, dumping the whole box of crayons onto the floor as he contemplated which color would be best for his father’s beard.
“It’s a little late for that,” Temari smirked.
“What do little sisters do anyway?” Shikadai asked.
“I don’t know. Probably nothing,” Boruto rolled his eyes, and Temari put her hand over her mouth so they wouldn’t see her laughing, “I don’t need a sister. I’m doing just fine.”
Boruto’s flower was finally finished, so he selected a new crayon and scribbled across the top of the page.
“To…Mama…” he muttered to himself as he scribbled, “Love…Boruto…”
He sat up and held the picture out so he could get a good look at it.
“Do you think Mama will like it?”
“I think she’ll love it,” a voice said from the doorway.
“Auntie!” Boruto hurried to his feet and scrambled over to where Hanabi was standing. He ran straight into her open arms and giggled as she squeezed him, holding onto his drawing for dear life. When she let go, she cupped his face with one hand, “Are you ready to meet your little sister, Boruto?”
His smile faded, “She’s here already?”
“Congratulate Naruto and Hinata for us,” Temari told her.
“I will! Thank you so much for watching him,” Hanabi stood up and held out her hand, “Come on, Boruto. Your mom can’t wait for you to get there.”
He took Hanabi’s hand and trudged alongside her as they walked to the hospital. Noticing his silence, she asked, “What’s wrong, Boruto?”
“I don’t want a sister,” Boruto mumbled so low she couldn’t understand.
“What?”
Boruto let go of her hand and stopped, looking at her, “I said I don’t want a sister!”
Hanabi sighed, “Oh no.”
“Why do I have to have a little sister? Shikadai doesn’t have a little sister!”
“Not right now, but maybe one day he will.”
“No he won’t. I asked. Aunt Temari said ‘there’s no way in he—’”
Suddenly Hanabi swooped him off his feet and started walking again, “Well, that’s Shikadai’s family. This one’s ours.”
Boruto grumbled but rested his head against Hanabi’s shoulder, “It’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Boruto,” Hanabi told him, “That’s why little sisters need big brothers, to help them out when life is being unfair.”
Boruto cocked his head to one side, “What do you mean?”
“Well,” Hanabi placed him back on the ground, and held her hand out again. He took it and they kept walking.
“Being a big brother means you have to watch over your little sister. You’ll protect her when she’s scared or cheer her up when she’s sad—"
“Why do I have to do that? Why can’t Mama and Dad?”
“They will too, of course, but they can’t do everything. There’s some things only a big brother or sister can do.”
She looked down at Boruto and smirked, “I’m a little sister, you know.”
“You are?”
“I am, and your mom is my big sister.”
Boruto thought about that for a moment, “Did Mama want a little sister?”
“I don’t know, I wasn’t there,” she shrugged, “But she loves me anyway. And you’ll love your sister too. I guarantee it.”
Boruto wasn’t so sure about that. He still wasn’t convinced that this sister thing was a good idea. He looked down at his drawing, only slightly crumpled from the grip of his little fist, and wondered what life was going to be like now that he had to share his mother with someone else.
When they got to the hospital, Hanabi led him up the stairs and through the many hallways. Finally they came to a door and stopped. Hanabi squeezed Boruto’s little hand and looked down at him, “Are you ready?”
Boruto sighed, but he nodded his head, so Hanabi pushed the door open.
“You’re back!” Naruto stood up from his chair beside the bed.
Hinata was sitting in the hospital bed, propped up by a few pillows, holding a bundle of blankets in her arms. “Hi, Boruto,” she said softly, “Come meet your sister.”
Hanabi took his drawing as his father lifted him onto his lap so he could see. He looked into the blanket bundle and saw a tiny face peeking out. On her chubby pink cheeks, he noticed two familiar marks on either side. His hand shot up to his own cheeks, eyes growing wide. Boruto watched the bundle of blankets slowly rise and fall as she slept, and suddenly he felt a warmth begin to spread through his chest.
He reached out to touch her, standing on the chair and leaning so far forward that he would have fallen off had Naruto not been holding him with one firm hand across his torso. Boruto began to trace one of the lines on her face with his finger, but quickly pulled away when she began to stir. He froze, bracing himself for the screams of an infant disturbed.
But she didn’t scream. After the tiniest yawn Boruto had ever seen, she was asleep again, and the warmth continued to spread.
“Her name is Himawari,” Naruto told him, “Uzumaki Himawari.”
“Himawari…” Boruto whispered. He’d never realized anyone could be so small. He reached out again, this time daring to stroke her cheek. She stirred again but only for a moment, and he could see a tiny hand poking out from underneath the blanket.
And you’ll love your sister too, Hanabi’s words rang in his ears, I guarantee it.
He went to touch her hand, and the warmth in his chest became a fire as she gripped his pointer finger.
“Where’s the camera?” Hanabi whispered. Boruto could hear her scrambling around the room looking for it, but he didn’t take his eyes off of his sister.
“Boruto,” this time he did look up, “Are you ready to be a big brother?” his mother asked.
He looked back at Himawari, the peaceful look on her face while she slept, and he now understood what Hanabi had meant. He loved her already, so much that he knew he never wanted her to feel hurt, or sad, or scared. He’d do whatever he could to protect that peacefulness on her face, because he was a big brother now, and that was his duty.
“Yes,” he said firmly, “I’m ready.”