Minato Namikaze blinked into existence in the middle of Konoha’s bustling streets, though the village wasn’t quite the same as he remembered.Buildings stretched taller, signs glowed with brighter colors, and the air buzzed with an energy foreign to his time. He definitely wasn’t in the Konoha Village he knew.
He staggered a step, steadying himself, his mind racing. He hadn’t used the Flying Raijin. He hadn’t even been in battle. One moment he was lost in memory, and the next he was here. The strangest thing, though, was the hollow emptiness in his body. He couldn’t explain this hollow emptiness as he hadn’t realized his chakra was gone. Not low, not sealed; gone, like a riverbed dried up. He placed a hand against the wall beside him and grunted.
People bustled past, strangers all, their eyes sliding over him without recognition. Not a single gasp of “Fourth Hokage!” No whisper of his name. Minato felt a cold weight settle in his gut. How long had it been? Where exactly had he landed? He needed answers.
He followed the flow of people, the strangeness of the village eating at him with each step. He saw children running in the streets, chattering about names he didn’t know; Sarada, Mitsuki. None of them looked his way. Finally, he stopped when a familiar head of blond hair passed by, spiky and wild, with a face so much like his own.
Naruto. Older, taller, dressed in the robes of Hokage, the kanji bold on his back. Minato’s chest seized, his breath catching wind a little.
Naruto seemed to sense something despite the chakra from this person being gone. He turned his head slightly and froze. His eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. “Dad…?” he whispered.
Minato’s lips curved into a small, stunned smile. “Naruto…you-” What could he even say? His body rattled a bit before settling down and continuing with a satisfactory, “-You’ve grown.”
The two rushed toward each other, an awkward hug colliding in the street as confused villagers looked on. Naruto’s eyes brimmed with tears and questions, his words tumbling over themselves. “How-what-are you really here?!”
This had happened at least twice before (three if you count that weird thing with Menma) but now there was no plausible explanation as to why.
Naruto didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Minato’s wrist and tugged him forward. “Come on. You’re coming with me. We need to talk at home.”
—
The Hokage’s house was warm, lived in, filled with little touches of family life. Photos on the walls, a pile of toys in the corner, the faint scent of curry still lingering in the air. Minato stepped inside cautiously, eyes scanning everything, feeling like an intruder in his own bloodline’s home.
Naruto turned to him, rubbing the back of his neck with that same sheepish grin he’d had as a child. “So… funny timing. Hinata’s away visiting her clan right now. Which, uh… actually works out, because I need a favor. A big one.”
Minato raised a brow. “A favor? You just reunited with your father, and the first thing you do is ask for help?”
“Well,” Naruto laughed nervously, “I kinda need you to watch the kids for me. Just for a little while. I’ll figure out how to send you back. I promise. But right now, Boruto and Himawari need someone here. And hey-” he brightened, “they’re your grandkids. You should get to know them.”
Minato blinked. “Grandkids.” The word felt strange, heavy. “Naruto… if they’re your children, doesn’t that mean they’re your responsibility? They are my grandchildren, yes, but in a situation like this where the wife is gone shouldn’t you–”
Naruto cut him off with a grin, eyes glinting with mischief. “Exactly. They’re your grandchildren. Which makes it perfect. You’re qualified. Don’t try to wiggle out of this.”
Minato opened his mouth, then shut it again, trapped in the simple logic. He sighed, running a hand down his face. “You’re just like your mother.”
Naruto beamed at that, clapping him on the shoulder. “So you’ll do it?”
Minato gave a long, reluctant nod. “Fine.”
That was when Himawari came bounding into the room, giggling, her little arms open wide. She stopped short when she saw Minato, her big eyes sparkling. “Who’s this?”
Naruto knelt beside her, patting her hair. “This is your jii-chan. Grandpa Minato.”
Himawari gasped, delighted, before throwing herself at Minato’s legs. He stumbled, then chuckled softly, patting her head. Her laughter filled the room, pure and innocent.
Boruto, however, leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, scowling. He eyed Minato up and down like he’d just been handed another problem. “So this is the guy. The great Fourth Hokage, huh? Doesn’t look so impressive.”
Minato straightened, narrowing his eyes. “And you must be Boruto. You look disappointed already. You don’t even seem interested in why I’m here.”
“Time travel or whatever, right? Who cares.” He responded with a shrug. “Are you here to make up for lost time? Oh but wait, you were just sighing at the idea of taking care of us.”
Minato winced. “Well, I-I just wasn’t expecting to have to do it, is all.”
Boruto huffed. “Figures. You’re just like my dad. I can’t decide who’s more pathetic. At least Dad stuck around, even if he’s a lousy Hokage. You dumped the Nine-Tails on him when he was a baby. You’re the bigger baby of the two.”
Minato flinched at that, his throat tightening. He had no words to defend himself, not against his own grandson’s scathing truth.
Naruto, oblivious to the sting, cleared his throat. “Anyway, Dad, one important note. Himawari still wears protection sometimes. Diapers. You’ll need to change her if she needs it.”
Minato froze. “…You expect me to–?”
“Yes,” Naruto interrupted firmly. “She’s your granddaughter. Deal with it.”
And so, an hour or so later, Minato found himself kneeling on the floor, carefully changing Himawari’s diaper while she giggled at his serious, flustered face. His hands moved stiffly, unpracticed, yet gentle, until the task was complete. She clapped, proud of him, while Boruto snorted in disgust.
“Pathetic,” Boruto muttered.
Minato turned sharply to him, narrowing his eyes. “If you’re so grown up, then you’ll finish your homework and be in bed by eight o’clock. No excuses.”
Boruto blinked, then burst out laughing. “What are you, my babysitter? You can’t tell me what to do!” Minato’s gaze hardened. “I can. And I will. Do your homework. Or else.”
Boruto grinned slyly. “Or else what? You don’t even have chakra anymore, old man. You’ve got nothing.” Minato gasped a bit. Did he not–? So that’s what he was feeling. Did Boruto sense that? Impres–no. Not impressive. He’s being a brat!
Minato’s lips curved into a thin line. “Then I’ll put you in diapers, like Himawari.”
Boruto’s smugness cracked instantly, his face burning red. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Boruto sputtered, fists clenching, but in the end, he stormed off to his room, muttering curses under his breath. Himawari giggled again, watching the scene with delight.
That night, Boruto’s resentment bubbled over. Creeping into Minato’s room, he found his grandfather asleep, sprawled on the futon. Boruto smirked, dipping Minato’s hand into a bowl of warm water. “Let’s see how the mighty Fourth likes this.”
—
The next morning, Minato awoke to damp sheets and cold dread. His face burned as a heavy realization hit. He scrambled to wash the bedding discreetly, borrowing a pair of Naruto’s boxers to wear while his clothes dried.
Boruto’s laughter from the doorway stung worse than any kunai. “Grandpa had an accident! Maybe you do belong in diapers after all!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Minato said, brushing past him in Boruto’s dad’s stolen undies. “Uh-huh. Sure. It’s so normal of you to do laundry a mere day after showing up,” Boruto snickered.
Minato grit his teeth, ignoring him. Or at least he tried to but later that day, when he found Boruto’s room a disaster zone of clothes, wrappers, and messy LEGOs he almost stepped on which would no doubt result in an early death, his patience snapped.
“You’re grounded,” Minato barked, pointing at the chaos. “And since you can’t act your age, you’ll wear Himawari’s diapers.”
Boruto’s jaw dropped. “No way!”
“Yes way.” Minato grabbed a spare diaper and tossed it at him. “Thank me for allowing you the courtesy of putting it on yourself.”
Minutes later, Boruto stood red-faced, squirming, the thick diaper taped snugly around his waist while Himawari clapped her hands in delight. “Baby Boruto!” she sang.
When Naruto returned for dinner and found Boruto waddling in a diaper, his eyes widened…but when Minato whispered to him what happened, instead of anger, he broke into a grin. “Well, would you look at that? My little Boruto looks so cute.”
“Dad!” Boruto whined.
Naruto crouched, cooing exaggeratedly as he pinched his cheek. “Aww, who’s Daddy’s baby boy?”
Boruto’s face turned crimson as Himawari howled with laughter. He glared at Minato, his fury brewing. Later, while setting the table, he slipped a laxative into Minato’s juice, hiding his grin.
Half an hour later, Minato shifted uncomfortably, a cold sweat breaking across his forehead as the cramps hit. “Holy… mother of… wh-what… is wrong with my tummy?”
He clenched his jaw, trying to hide it, but soon he doubled over, humiliated as the inevitable happened.
PPPPFFFRRRRRRTBBBBBLLLLL~T!
Boruto’s smirk gleamed with triumph. Naruto, however, just sighed, shaking his head. “House rules apply to everyone, Dad. No exceptions.”
“H-HUH?!” Minato was standing, bow-legged and face flushing a bright red. He’d just messed his pants and was in the middle of processing that before Naruto knocked him upside the head with a hail merry of WHAT?!
“I refuse,” Minato snapped, his pride cracking under the shame.
“Fine,” Naruto said, standing tall. “Let’s settle this the old-fashioned way. A sparring match. Loser wears Himawari’s diapers for a week.”
Boruto’s eyes lit up at that.
No matter who lost, HE won! Holy moly! YES!
—
They squared off in the yard, fists raised. After an epic staredown that promised something epic and on the scale of a Hokage level fight, they charged at each other and began landing blow after blow on each other!
At first, it looked evenly matched. However, it didn’t matter after a while because this Hokage level fight… looked like something that already came from a nursery.
To Boruto’s eyes, these two men were throwing clumsy punches, panting, and swinging like children. Boruto groaned in disappointment. “You both look pathetic.”
However… at the very least, he figured that between the two he preferred seeing his dad win. Then, inspiration struck him. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Dad! Use the tickling technique!”
Naruto’s eyes widened. Memories flashed. Boruto had used that very move to escape punishments as a kid. Naruto would march up to him and grab him by the ear and threaten him with a spanking only for Boruto to wriggle his tiny little fingers down his body and make him giggle and squirm so that he had no choice but to let him escape. Boruto even stole slaps at HIS butt when he ran off.
With a grin, Naruto lunged, his fingers digging mercilessly into Minato’s sides.
Minato instantly burst out laughing, squirming helplessly, tears streaming from his eyes. It was effective to the point of being disgraceful. “S-stop! Naruto! That’s–hahhahaha–cheating!”
Naruto grinned wider, relentless. Minato’s laughter turned frantic until, with a choked cry, he lost control, wetting himself in the middle of the yard!
PSSSSSSFFFSSHH-!
A wet spot spread around Minato’s crotch and cascaded down his pants legs and all over the grass. A light steam even emanated from his ruined pants…!
Minato whimpered, teary eyed and blushing heavily as his knees met the wet grass. His grandchildren were rolling around on their backs in hysterical laughter in the distance.
Naruto stepped back, with a triumphant smile. “I win.”
—
The next day, Minato found himself strapped into diapers with Naruto treating him like a toddler. Naruto cooed over him, even changing him in front of Boruto and Himawari, who laughed hysterically. “Look at Grandpa,” Boruto sneered. “Or should I say, Daddy’s baby boy?”
Minato’s face burned as he began desiring a reverse of this fate, but it only got worse.
On the street, villagers pointed and whispered, charmed by the Hokage’s “adorable baby.” Naruto leaned into it, proudly holding Minato’s hand, guiding him like a child, his poofy pants only amplifying the humiliation.
Boruto and Himawari basked in their new roles as “big siblings,” delighting in every moment of Minato’s embarrassment. Even Inojin and Shikadai joined the fun, teasing Minato mercilessly.
One evening, Naruto tried to convince him to wear a pink bib with “Daddy’s Baby Boy” embroidered across it. Minato refused, snapping that he was no one’s baby. Naruto spanked him soundly, strapped him into a high chair, and spoon-fed him mush like an infant.
“This is your life now,” Naruto declared. “From today on, you’re my youngest son. No more big boy clothes.”
Boruto grinned ear to ear, reveling in his grandfather’s downfall… until his eyes caught a flash of underoos peeking above Naruto’s waistband as he bent down. Cartoon prints, childish and bright. Cute little froggies decorated his briefs.
Boruto froze, then smirked slowly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Of course. His dad wore those so he was obviously a little baby man. He just didn’t know that he was merely waiting to be exposed.
That night, Boruto scribbled a deluge of ideas in his notebook, grinning to himself. Soon he wouldn’t just have one little brother to lord over. He’d have two. And then, finally, he’d be the man of the house.
---
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