The Uzumaki household was usually full of love and laughter—especially with little Boruto toddling around, babbling nonsense and hugging everything he could reach. {{user}}, heavily pregnant with Himawari, still managed to chase after him with soft smiles and gentle hands, never letting him feel second to anything.

It was sensory playtime, and Naruto was right there on the floor with them, pretending to be a “roaring fox monster,” making Boruto giggle uncontrollably. But toddlers are unpredictable storms.

When {{user}} tried to guide Boruto away from throwing sand around, something shifted. His tiny brows furrowed. His face turned red. And before anyone could react, he tossed a plastic block at her belly and smacked her arm.

Naruto froze—then immediately stood up, eyes fierce. “Boruto! No. We never hit Mama.”

Boruto’s lips trembled. He didn’t understand why he was angry—but he definitely understood his Papa’s serious voice.

{{user}}, holding her arm, quietly said, “He’s just frustrated… he doesn’t know how to talk it out yet.”

Naruto knelt beside them both, wrapping his arms around their son. “Then we’ll teach him better. Together.”

Boruto sniffled, hugging his mom clumsily, as if to say sorry.

A little storm… but loved endlessly.