"Why did you suddenly—OW!"
The Seventh Hokage didn't even see the punch coming. One moment he was explaining about work, the next his head snapped back and his Hokage hat lifted several centimeters into the air before settling back down askew.
"Can you talk properly? I was just trying to—" He raised his hands defensively.
"Reorganize your answer," young Naruto said flatly, his fist still raised. "And this time, try telling me you actually want to go home to your family."
The Seventh Hokage saw the fist cock back again and spoke quickly. "I really do want to go home and spend time with them! I swear!"
The fist stopped mere centimeters from his forehead.
The Seventh Hokage let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Good," young Naruto said, lowering his hand. "Now tell me why you're always working in the Hokage's office instead of going home to your family. And don't give me excuses about being busy."
The older man opened his mouth, then closed it. What else was there besides work? Konoha had countless administrative needs. The Land of Fire required constant attention. Trade agreements, diplomatic missions, construction projects, Academy curriculum reviews, ANBU assignments, mission rankings, civilian complaints—the list never ended.
But Naruto had cut off that explanation before he could even voice it.
The Seventh Hokage searched for other reasons, but came up empty. If he made up excuses now, another beating was inevitable. And honestly, he was starting to suspect he deserved it.
Actually, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered, haven't I been the one with violent tendencies all along?
He thought about all the times he'd sent Sasuke to the hospital. Always calling it "for Sasuke's own good," always framing it as friendly rivalry. But was it really? Or was that just an excuse for his own lack of control?
His younger self, for all his frightening power and willingness to kill enemies, treated his actual friends with care. Sasuke got beaten regularly, sure, but never hospitalized. Face swollen for a few days at most, then fully recovered. No broken bones, no extended medical stays.
Just enough to maintain the friendship, not enough to cause real harm.
Who's really the violent one here?
"Why aren't you talking?" Young Naruto's voice cut through his thoughts. "Can't think of any other excuses?"
The Seventh Hokage looked at his younger self—taller, stronger, more confident, more decisive—and felt something break inside his chest.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have let work consume me and ignored my family. Work is important, but family is equally important."
The admission came from somewhere genuine, a place he'd been avoiding for years.
Young Naruto's expression softened slightly. Finally, honest words instead of deflection. Progress.
"Do you know where you went wrong?" he asked.
The Seventh Hokage's face twisted in confusion. "I... just explained that. I got carried away with work and neglected my family. That's what I said."
Another punch landed on his head. The Hokage hat jumped again.
"OW! What was that for?!"
"You're not being sincere," young Naruto said, his tone that of a disappointed teacher. "Your attitude shows no real remorse. You won't even repeat your mistakes back to me. And you still claim you're wrong?"
He shook his head. "Without proper acknowledgment, how can I believe you'll actually change?"
The Seventh Hokage felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Meeting a version of yourself who was not only stronger but also more unreasonable than you—what could you even do? Why was this world so cruel?
"I was wrong!" he said quickly. "I'll repeat it right now! I shouldn't have prioritized work over my family. I neglected the people who matter most. I failed as a husband and father."
"That's better." Young Naruto nodded with satisfaction. "That's the right attitude."
Seeing this version of himself improve, young Naruto's mood lightened considerably. He continued, "Before I came to find you, I observed Hinata, Boruto, and Himawari. When you don't come home for dinner, they all look disappointed."
"Hinata's wishes are obvious—she just wants to eat dinner with you and the children. Simple as that."
"As for Boruto..." Young Naruto's eyes narrowed. "Have you paid any attention to him? Do you know how he's doing? What his grades are like? Whether he even attended class today?"
The questions hit like kunai, each one finding its mark.
The Seventh Hokage couldn't answer. He genuinely didn't know. Every day was consumed by paperwork, meetings, decisions about village policy. His son's daily life was a complete mystery.
"You don't know, do you?" Young Naruto's voice carried both anger and disappointment. "You can't answer a single question about your own son."
"Work is important," he continued, his tone becoming instructive rather than accusatory. "But you need to learn to delegate appropriately. I have my own training to maintain, so I hand off smaller matters to Shikamaru and others. I only need to control the overall direction."
"You could do the same. Don't try to handle everything yourself. Even with Shadow Clones, you don't have infinite energy. Manage the big picture and let your subordinates grow. It builds their capabilities and gives you time for what actually matters."
The Seventh Hokage looked up at his younger self, genuinely moved. This version of him, this alternate possibility, really was trying to help. Not just criticizing, but offering actual solutions.
The words struck deep.
Images flooded his mind unbidden. Boruto's school life, completely unknown to him. Himawari's birthdays, several of which he'd missed entirely. His daughter never complained, never showed hurt, just kept smiling—but that didn't mean the pain wasn't there.
And Hinata...
Guilt crashed through him like a tsunami. Every time she brought meals to the Hokage building, she told him not to work too hard. Every time, her face showed nothing but concern and happiness to see him, even briefly. Never once had she complained about his absence. Never once had she shown anger at being neglected.
She just bore it all alone, silently, waiting for him to notice.
He'd been so blind.
"Naruto," he said, raising his head to meet his younger self's eyes. "My other self—thank you for coming here. Thank you for waking me up. I'll change. Starting now. I'll never ignore my family again."
The promise was real. Young Naruto could see it in his face, in the set of his shoulders, in the determination that finally broke through years of autopilot existence.
"You're wrong about one thing," young Naruto said, his tone gentler now. "I didn't wake you up."
The Seventh Hokage blinked.
"I communicated with you sincerely," young Naruto corrected. "And that communication helped you realize your mistakes on your own."
The Seventh Hokage's expression went flat. "You beat me unconscious, dragged me up a mountain, and punched me in the head repeatedly."
"That's sincere communication," young Naruto said with perfect seriousness. "It's the beauty of honest dialogue between friends."
The Seventh Hokage opened his mouth. Closed it. Decided arguing was pointless.
"Come on," young Naruto said, starting down the mountain. "Let's go home. Hinata and the kids are waiting. The food's probably keeping warm on the stove."
The sky had deepened to twilight, stars beginning to emerge overhead.
The two Narutos walked side by side through the forest, their footsteps quiet on the path.
"This is our home," the Seventh Hokage said automatically, then realized the absurdity of the statement. "Well, you've already been here, haven't you?"
He stepped forward and opened the door.
Immediately, Boruto appeared in the hallway, his eyes widening at the sight of the figure in the doorway.
"Who are you?" Boruto demanded, staring at the swollen, pig-faced man wearing his father's clothes. "Why are you dressed like that?"
The Seventh Hokage's heart sank. His own son didn't recognize him.
"Hey, Dad!" Boruto's voice shifted to relief as he spotted young Naruto behind the stranger. "You're here too! Who's this guy, and why is he wearing a Hokage robe?"
His posture relaxed immediately. As long as his father was here—the Seventh Hokage, the hero who saved the entire ninja world—no monster could hurt his mother or sister.
"Ahem." Young Naruto cleared his throat, fighting back a smile. "Boruto, this is your father."
Boruto's brain short-circuited.
"What?"
"Your father," young Naruto repeated calmly. "The one with the pig face? That's the Seventh Hokage. Your dad."
Boruto looked at the swollen mess of a man in the doorway. Then at the tall, handsome, perfectly healthy blonde behind him wearing an identical Hokage robe.
Then back at the pig-faced stranger.
Then at the handsome blonde again.
"I have two dads?" he said weakly.
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