The late-afternoon sun set over Konoha. The village's quiet appearance belied what was going on in the Hokage's household.

Naruto Uzumaki, the Seventh Hokage, son of the Fourth, Minato Namikaze, the Hero of the Hidden Leaf, Child of Prophecy and Savior of the World, the Gutsy Ninja, et cetera, et cetera, didn't feel like either one of those. He hadn't felt like his old self in years. Although people change when they age, which he understood, the collapse of everything he thought he held dear was different from the normal aging process. But he didn't know that at this specific moment.

He sat across from his wife Hinata at their dinner table. She was sewing. She'd started sewing before they'd gotten together on a mission to save her sister. She knitted a scarf for him. That scarf sat in on the coat rack, a bit frayed but still in good enough shape that he often wore it to work. He appreciated it, he really did. At least he wanted to. It was a kind gesture from someone kind and lonely like he was for the longest time, and… where was he going with this?

He rapped his fingers on the table. The ramen bowl in front of him had gone cold and he'd barely touched it. He searched his mind for the problem, but came up emptier than… an empty ramen bowl. He cursed himself for his inability to find a good analogy. This probably wasn't as big as the rut he was in, since he wasn't really a writer.

Rut?

He thought that word over in his mind, stirring his ramen at the same time. Hinata still didn't look up. She was still engrossed in her sewing. Naruto couldn't bring himself to interrupt her.

Maybe he just wasn't used to how quiet it was. Boruto had been going out on missions more often. Not that it mattered as much; Boruto would probably reject an offer to visit Ichiraku's or Kakashi. He understood the boy had his own ideals and goals different from him, but he did wish Boruto showed him more respect than what he gave him now.

Hinata still wasn't looking up at him. Why? Besides obviously being engrossed in her sewing, of course. That was the likeliest reason.

The Hokage kept toying with his food. The ramen itself looked delicious; it was a chicken-flavored broth with chicken pieces, cabbages, a narutomaki—his namesake—and two deviled egg slices. Hinata obviously put some thought into the ramen, and he was genuinely thankful to her. But was that enough? They'd been married for over a decade and had two kids, which would make most people happy. But he didn't know why he was so miserable.

He was sure he was burnt out. The village was growing at a substantial rate, hi-rises were being built on the fringes, the economy was pretty strong for a peacetime, and a new generation of ninjas were preparing to start their careers. That was good, right? He cursed himself again for letting that doubt creep back into his thoughts.

"Hey, Hinata?" he asked. "Should I be happier?"

"Of course, Naruto," she replied without looking up from her knitting. "You achieved your dream to be Hokage."

Dreams. Dreams were a funny thing. Becoming Hokage wasn't so much a dream, as a desire to be recognized for the wonder he was, but now it felt just a little empty. Oh, he did have dreams where he was Hokage as a kid. Most of his dreams as of late were the usual dream, just a bunch of random images that he would forget in the morning. He'd always wonder just what he'd dreamt when he woke up. But even then, with his dream achieved, and the usual randomness he'd come to expect, he'd have a few dreams that not only stuck with him, but disturbed him to a minor extent whenever he had them.

Like a dream where he was on Mount Myouboku, but the frogs didn't seem to want him there. They were always welcoming when he was awake, but this particular dream was different. The frogs looked like frogs, but they didn't have the usual frog eyes. He could see people's eyes in them. That's not the best way to describe it. The toads' and frogs' eyes were human eyes, all staring at him with disapproval, anger and hate in them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such hatred from someone's eyes, but it was a long time ago; when he was 12. So he did remember, but the specific moments were harder to conjure up as he got older. Worse still, even Gamamaru glared at him, but not with his old eyes.

His eyes were open, and they had a familiarity about them. Naruto had seen them before, and he recognized whose eyes they were. But acknowledging whose eyes they were were out of the question. His shame in the dream, causing him to look away from Gamamaru's silent glare felt like thousands of kunai embedding in his soul. Worse still, Gamamaru's shape shifted outside his gaze, taking a familiar form that he desperately wanted to go away. But it wasn't just that one form, but several forms that just worked his guilt and shame, until he saw a small figure in an orange jumpsuit.

"Naruto?" Hinata's voice brought him back to reality. She was staring at him out of concern, but that concern felt empty and shallow. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just got lost for a minute. What was your dream?" This wasn't an out-of-the-blue, earth-shattering question, but he'd ask it before.

"To be by your side," she said without a second thought or looking up from her knitting.

Of course. She always answered that way. It was romantic at first, but it didn't feel that way now. Maybe that was why he didn't talk to her as much as he should be. He'd been going right to bed after returning from the office without speaking to her, Boruto or Himawari. Hima didn't seem to mind as much, although he once caught the glimpse of a sad face from her. Boruto, however, drew graffiti on his effigy on the Hokage Rock. It drove him crazy when he did that, since it took valuable time out of his already-busy schedule…

There was supposed to be an epiphany there, but he stubbornly shoved it aside.

Not wanting to let the ramen go to waste, he quietly slurped some of the noodles. He didn't think there were any easy answers at the moment, or they would come to him when he talked to others.

But for now, he just ate what he could. He didn't know it would eventually come to him down the line.

Currently he felt like he was about to go to sleep at any moment. So he ate faster so he could finish the ramen. Once he was done, he thanked his wife, but she only responded with a flat "You're welcome". Getting up, he put the bowl away and left for the bedroom.

"You're going to bed again?" Hinata asked.

"I'm tired," he replied.

"You're always tired," she objected. "Boruto and Himawari want their dad."

But it didn't faze Naruto, he just slunk back to his bed. He changed into his pajamas and fell into the bed.

The window was still open and he could hear the faint street sounds from his room.

Lately he'd been able to right to sleep whenever he hit the bed, but not this afternoon. Staring up at the ceiling, he felt he was too tired to stay out of bed, but not tired enough to go to sleep. This dull, daily grind/routine had gone on for so long, he feared he was letting his skills rust. As a teen, he'd constantly train and work harder to improve himself, even though Jiraiya considered him the Child of Prophecy. Maybe he could take a short break in the coming weeks so he could train some more and keep his skills up. Right now, he was too tired. He wanted to sleep.

And he kept seeing disapproving eyes whenever he closed his eyes. Or they were just those little colors you see when you close your eyes. To test this, he kept his eyes open for a couple minutes, and then he closed them. The eyelid colors appeared at first, then dissipated. He opened his eyes and closed them again. The colors were there. He was beginning to feel relieved, when those eyes stared back at him.

They weren't demonic or monstrous eyes. Nor did they have the purple rings of Infinite Tsukiyomi in them. But they were human eyes, blue ones, to be specific. And then they changed. They were more masculine now—they were feminine?—but still blue.

He opened his eyes, and saw that the other eyes were gone. His skin glistened from the faint layer of sweat that had already accumulated, and he knew he was sweating because he could feel it. Not wanting to admit what he'd seen, he closed his eyes again. The colors came and dissipated, and then the eyes—

"WAKE UP, OLD MAN!"

Naruto shot upright. His heart almost stopped. Whipping his head to the right, he saw Boruto standing in the window, with a proud and triumphant pose.

"What?!" He breathed. "YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK!"

"Phuh!" Boruto scoffed. "Look at you, already going to bed?! It's not even 7 o'clock!" Naruto didn't look at his son, but he could tell he wore a smug-ish grin. However, it disappeared quickly, because Naruto's shock turned to anger. And although he could see the real fear in his son's eyes, his anger with Boruto clouded his ability to see this.

"BORUTO, I TOLD YOU NEVER TO BOTHER ME LIKE THAT AGAIN, YOU INSOLENT LITTLE BRAT!" he roared, climbing out of bed, stomping over to Boruto and grabbing the boy's collar. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

For a moment, he saw the boy's frightened expression. He paused. And that gave Boruto the opening he needed to twist himself out of Naruto's grip. Naruto could only watch as Boruto spun and jumped away from the Hokage's house. Still holding his hand out, Naruto backed away from the window and turned back to the bed. The boy's look of true fear replayed in his mind. What have I done? He thought to himself, still unsure why he had yelled at Boruto.

He found Hinata standing in the doorway, looking quizzically at him. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No," he said, "Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired." Climbing back into bed and shutting his eyes, he willed himself to sleep without any dreams.

He did catch a glimpse of pink, though.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Clutching the sheet of paper in one hand, Sakura Uchiha clutched her hair in the other. Sarada hadn't come home yet, but that wasn't the cause of Sakura's stress at all. Tens of other paper sheets covered her table. Fighting back tears, she dared to look at the paperwork pile, but couldn't even last a second before looking back up. She felt like everything was crumbling around her, like she was a complete failure, and she should've been more reflective when she was younger.

So much was going wrong, so much had changed since then. She used to think that she was going to be on top of the world; that she and Sasuke would make the greatest fighting duo this side of Tsunade and Jiraiya, and maybe even better. For a while, she was positive she was going to be the greatest Medical Ninja in Konoha's history, and maybe even make a big medical breakthrough!

Now she was facing foreclosure on her dilapidated house, the loss of her status as a medical ninja, no money in her bank account, almost lost her daughter to someone she didn't know, and the growing frustration of Sasuke's constant desertion. So much that built up for years, and now was hitting her from every single direction in the last couple of months, mixing with these latest stresses. She felt less like Tsunade's successor and more like a joke. Everyone liked to say she was useless, after all.

She was still convinced that Sasuke would return and they would pick up where they left off. She'd fallen in love with him, and she knew that her heart could not be changed. Nor would she be a good person if she stopped waiting for him. She'd gone through hell to get him back, and she was going to stay the course, but… but… but… she loved him, dammit! It would be wrong to just up and abandon him! And he had a reason for not coming back. He was protecting them from any dangers that might come their way. Kagura was a threat who had to be dealt with.

Without thinking, she reached for the sake bottle off to her left, but stopped herself. Was she that desperate?

She couldn't answer that herself. She did know that she wanted a different life from this; this lousy excuse of barely eking an existence out, living on the last remnants of Uchiha money that the village didn't touch.

That would have to wait for now, because she heard her door opening. She couldn't let her daughter see the mess, so she hastily organized the table as best she could, and placed the foreclosure warning face-down.

"Mom?" Sarada called.

"Welcome home, honey!" Sakura called, entering the front room. "How was training today?"

"Sempai Konohamaru made us work on our basic jutsus again," Sarada answered while removing her boots. "Ugh, I'm so tired of them! We're falling behind!"

"Why?" Sakura asked.

"That stupid Boruto!" Sarada answered again, her voice full of pure contempt. "He's the worst! If he weren't the Hokage's son, he'd have been kicked out of the Academy by now!"

"He's your teammate," Sakura replied. "You should cut him some slack." She briefly recalled a similar conversation she had with Tsunade about Naruto. And he was Hokage now, and while she was proud of him, something in the back of her mind made her feel like she'd missed out on something or something else. She never had eyes for him, only Sasuke, and that's what she knew.

But that nagging in the back of her mind was still there. Something had gone wrong.

"Mom, are you alright?"

She didn't realize that she got lost in thought, and her daughter brought her back to her senses. "I'm sorry," she said.

"I hate when you get lost."

"I didn't mean to."

"You're acting weird."

"No I'm not. Anyway, I'll be getting dinner ready. Why don't you go get changed?"

"Sure," Sarada answered, picking her weapons up and starting towards her bedroom. Then she stopped to look at the table. She could see all the sheets on table, but Sakura caught her just in time to gently shepherd her away from the kitchen. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing!" Sakura awkwardly chuckled. "Everything's fine, nothing to worry about! Say, you smell funny. Maybe you should take a bath, and get that smell out of your—"

"MOM!"

Stunned a little, Sakura held her hands up to her completely embarrassed, bright-red daughter. Now mother was as embarrassed as daughter. And Sarada was too embarrassed to say anything else, so she walked away from her mom, or more specifically, power-walked to quickly get away, but not offend her mother.

Sakura sighed, relieved that Sarada hadn't seen all the paperwork on the table. But how long could she hide all of this from her? She would find out soon, either from her peers teasing her about it in school, from Sakura herself or from some other source. She could handle it coming from Tsunade or her parents, since they could—emphasis on could—help her out in the pinch.

But just because they could didn't mean she knew they will.

Too much was going on. So much in fact, that she went back into the kitchen without thinking. The sight of the bills and letters brought her back into reality, but the shock made her feel light-headed.

She needed to sit down.

She was also supposed to start preparing dinner. Earlier today she'd considered chicken teriyaki or ramen, but making the chicken would take time and she only had ramen cups that were neither filling nor had any nutritional value for a growing preteen. She wondered how anyone besides a certain blond Hokage could eat all of that fake ramen and not get sick. It was inhumanly possible, especially with all the sodium. At least Naruto had a good wife to cook him good meals.

What am I thinking? She asked herself. Who cares about Naruto? Why am I still thinking of him?! I've got more important things to worry about.

She looked back down at the papers covering her table and thought to herself. She knew she needed money, and badly. She could try to get her old hospital job back, but that was going to be hard when she was worried that her skills were rustier than a knife left out in a weeklong rainstorm. But she did keep her skills sharp on Sarada whenever she got sick. That was good enough, right? She could at least use her connections to Tsunade to get that job. She'd be a doctor or a nurse. It didn't matter because she'd be financially sound to keep her house and pay the bills. Sarada would have to get used to coming home when her mom wasn't there.

Her mom. She groaned, wondering if her own mother even wanted to see her. She wasn't happy when she married Sasuke. She called him a murderer. He wasn't a murderer, he just… he was just misunderstood! He'd been through a lot, so of course he would lash out at the world that had wronged him! He was, he was…

She felt light-headed again, and it forced her to sit down. She still couldn't think of anything to make, and that worsened her stress. Without thinking, she reached out, grabbed the snake bottle, opened it and chugged almost a tenth of it before she finally stopped. The taste didn't matter. And now she felt even more lightheaded. She took another chug. She could barely see in front of her, nor her daughter walking in on her to see her taking a third drink.

"MOM!" she cried as she ran over to her. Sakura looked up and finally saw her daughter through her drunken haze, fully aware that Sarada was horrified to see her mother like this. Unable to keep herself together, she broke down and cried loudly while her daughter came over to comfort her.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Ok, some um, if you've read the summary you'll probably know what I think about the ending, so I'll just make it clear that I want to write something better than what we got. Even if I was only a casual fan and never delved that deep into it, I was still unhappy. So I'm going to try to write this short story to fix it.

And before you review, I know the pacing isn't great and it's a little short and a little rushed. But I hope you liked it, anyway!