Chapter Text
The blazing sun had just begun to dip slowly below the horizon, giving the Sunagakure a warm color as their iconic buildings stood tall against an endless sea of sand. Sarada stepped out of the Sunagakure's Hokage building from a meeting, feeling the warm sand crunch beneath her feet as she walked. The faint hum of life drifted through the air. A vendor calling out his wares, the occasional laugh or murmur from a passerby, but it was quieter here than the busy Konoha she was used to.
A gentle breeze tousled her short black hair, carrying the spicy aroma of roasted meats and dried herbs from distant food stalls. Her stomach growled faintly, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since that morning, but she ignored it. Food could wait. What she craved most was sleep. Long and uninterrupted rest to ease the ache in her body. She hoped her teammates would do that... especially Mitsuki.
It had been a grueling week. From the moment she and her team arrived in Suna, Sarada had thrown herself into the mission. Day after day, she had pushed herself to the brink, tirelessly monitoring the Shinjus' movements. Every report and every observation was meticulously noted, ensuring they stayed far from the perimeter Yodo had marked as the critical point of defense. So far, there have been no breaches. So far, none had breached the perimeter that Yodo and the Suna council had marked as critical. A small mercy. The thought of facing something like her father’s terrifying clone again made her shudder.
Shaking her head to dispel the memory, Sarada quickened her pace toward the modest inn where her team was staying. The thought of her bed called to her, but when she finally reached her room, her feet carried her not to the futon but to the glass balcony doors on the far side of the room. She slid the door open and stepped out, welcoming the cool night air against her skin. The desert winds brushed past her, stealing the warmth from her cheeks and drawing a slight shiver from her frame. She leaned on the steel railing, the cold metal biting against her palms, and gazed out at the quiet streets below.
Suna was so different from Konoha. There were no people, no busy markets, or ringing laughter every night. Just a handful of villagers wandering the narrow streets with their footsteps muffled by the sand. The silence was soothing, but as Sarada closed her eyes and breathed deeply, she found no relief. Her mind refused to quiet.
"You do know now, don’t you? That I like Boruto a lot, and yet you just leaped into his arms. Did you think about my feelings at all… even just for a little bit, Sarada?"
Sarada stood frozen. Sumire's words replayed in her mind like an echo she couldn’t escape. Her jaw tightened as the memory played over and over, refusing to fade. Weeks had passed since Sumire confronted her, but the guilt was still there.
Fuck that!
She had been so focused on her own emotions, her own struggles, that she had dismissed Sumire’s pain. But hearing those words now, in the solitude of her temporary quarters in Suna, it became impossible to ignore how deeply her actions had hurt her friend.
Her only friend for the past three fucking years.
She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. Least of all Sumire, her closest friend for the past three years. Yet her actions, thoughtless and selfish, had driven an awkward distance between them.
"I'm so selfish," she whispered into the night, only swallowed by the strong wind.
Yet the desert seemed to offer no answers, only the vast emptiness of its dunes stretching into the dark. And for the first time in a long while, Sarada felt truly alone.
With a heavy sigh, Sarada slipped off her glasses and wiped the smudged lenses with the edge of her jacket. Her eyes stung. A dull reminder of the long meetings and sleepless nights that had consumed her week.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she leaned back against the railing, letting her head fall against her palm. She barely had time to process her exhaustion when—
"Boop!"
The unexpected tap on her nose made her jerk back, heart leaping to her throat. She spun around, her glasses still in hand, and found herself staring into a familiar face.
Boruto grinned as wide and infuriating as ever at her, one blue eye glinting mischievously in the moonlight. “Why are you pouting, hmm?”
“What the hell, Boruto?!” she sputtered, her voice rising in surprise.
"Uh-huh! That's me!" he replied with a smug, spreading his arms.
Sarada looks around the surroundings, afraid that someone will see them. "What are you doing here?!" She glared at him, trying to cover up her surprise.
"Uhm..." He casually spread his arms as if to emphasize the obvious, "standing?"
Sarada let out an exaggerated groan, rolling her eyes skyward. “That’s not what I meant!” she snapped, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. “Do you have any idea how bad it would look if someone caught you here? This is the women’s quarters, you idiot! Any sane person wouldn't do that!”
Boruto tilted his head slightly, looking at her with his innocent single blue eye, and shrugged. “Good thing I’ve never been accused of being entirely sane,” he quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
Sarada groaned, rolling her eyes skyward. “That’s not what I meant!” she snapped, jabbing a finger toward the door. “You need to leave before someone sees you! If Mitsuki finds out, I’ll have to explain why you’re here bothering me instead of in your own room!”
Especially Mitsuki! Good Lord, why are you punishing me?
Boruto shrugged, leaning lazily against the railing beside her. “Relax, princess,” he said, flashing her a lopsided grin. “No one saw me.”
Sarada crossed her arms, leveling him with her best glare. “Don’t call me princess. And I’m serious. Now. Leave," she said firmly.
He chuckled, leaning closer until their faces were inches apart. “Not until you admit why you’re pouting.”
Sarada’s glare sharpened. “I am not pouting!” she exclaimed, her voice ringing with resentment.
Despite her best efforts, a flush of heat crept up her cheeks, blooming red beneath his annoyingly perceptive gaze. She turned away abruptly, slipping her glasses back on with a huff.
“And even if I were, it’s none of your business,” she muttered, leaning against the railing to hide her face.
Behind her, Boruto smirked, his grin as persistent as ever. “Oh, it’s definitely my business,” he teased, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction.
“Leave. Now.” Sarada’s tone was firm, but her will wavered when she caught the devilish glint in his eye.
He ignored her command entirely. “For the record, you’re a terrible liar, Sarada.” His grin widened as he leaned in just enough to make her squirm. “You were definitely pouting.” Before she could respond, he reached out and pinched the tip of her nose lightly.
“Stop that!” she hissed, swatting his hand away and shoving his face back with her palm. Her lips pressed into a tight line as she turned away, but the blush on her face only deepened.
“Shouldn’t you be resting? You've been flying all around the whole day,” she asked, desperate to shift the conversation away from herself.
He laughed, proudly showing how white his teeth was. "I could say the same to you."
Sarada shot him a sharp glare, trying to summon the sharp attitude she usually wielded with ease. But his stupid grin was making it harder than it should’ve been.
“Can you at least give me a straight answer? You’re insufferable.”
He shrugged, his expression was intentionally calm, and its making Sarada even frustrated.
“No,” he replied, drawing the word out in a way that made her want to strangle him at this very moment.
Sarada groaned. “I give up.” She throws her head back to the sky to glare at the stars as though pleading for patience from the heavens above. Pleaseee, gods!! If you're real, please let this man out of my face!
Boruto shifted closer, undeterred. He propped his chin on one hand, studying her with an intensity. His grin softened slightly, though his playfulness never quite disappeared.
“No, you can'ttt. You still haven’t told me why you were sulking out here all alone.”
“I wasn’t sulking!” she snapped, spinning to face him. Her tone carried more heat than she’d intended, and she cursed herself for letting him get under her skin so easily.
Boruto raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Whatever you say.”
Sarada felt her patience fraying. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she squared her shoulders and glared at him with all the fire she could muster.
“What do you want, Boruto?” she demanded. “Huh? Why are you really here?”
Boruto smirk dissapered, straightening up to meet her fiery gaze. “I just thought,” he began, “that you might miss my presence. So I figured, why not give you a visit?” He paused, flashing her a grin that was equal parts teasing and sincere. “Sweet, isn’t it?”
Sarada blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his audacity. Then, her eyes widened as her face flushed a deep red, both from his words and from the realization that her heart had skipped a beat. She gawked at him, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to form a coherent response.
Oh my god,” she finally sputtered in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, Boruto!” Her tone was sharp, but inside, she felt utterly mortified. Though, if she's being honest… maybe she did miss him a little. Not that she’d ever tell him that. It would just make his ego much worse.
Boruto only grinned wider, his one eye sparkling mischievously. “You know it’s true,” he quipped with a laugh, utterly unbothered, and the way he said it made her simultaneously want to punch him in the face.
She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to regain her composure. “I-I did not miss you!” she shot back, though her flustered expression betrayed her words. “I-I've been busy wi—” Her voice faltered when she noticed the faintest twinkle of amusement in Boruto's gaze. She cursed inwardly, knowing that he was was enjoying this. Every single second of it.
“Uh-huh,” Boruto said, his tone thick with teasing disbelief. He leaned forward, and his grin only widened as he watched her squirm. “Sure, sure. Deny it all you want, but let’s be honest here— you’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?”
Sarada scowled, her cheeks burning hotter as her heart raced in her chest. Turning sharply away, she fixed her gaze on the distant rooftops, desperate to calm herself.
“Shut up, idiot,” she muttered in embarrassment as she reached out to shove him away lightly.
Boruto barely budged, laughing softly at her half-hearted attempt to dismiss him. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” he said, leaning in just enough to make her feel the heat of his presence.
“Stop it!” Sarada snapped, her voice cracking slightly as she refused to look at him. Her gaze stayed firmly locked on the rooftops, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Just… stop.”
But Boruto, ever the pest, bent slightly, leaning closer to peek at her face. His grin was still annoyingly in place, but this time, there was a softness in his tone.
“Aww, come on,” he teased gently, tilting his head as though trying to catch her eyes. “Why so shy all of a sudden, Sarada?”
She turned even farther away, her blush practically glowing under the moonlight. “I’m not shy,” she mumbled defensively, avoiding him at all costs.
Boruto chuckled again, thoroughly enjoying her reaction. “You can’t even look at me,” he pointed out.
“Because I don’t want to,” she bit out, her fingers gripping the cold railing tightly. She prayed the ground would just swallow her whole, or better yet, him, since he's the one who's being unbearable.
Sarada groaned, willing her heart to calm down as she crossed her arms tighter, her back still partially turned to him. "Go away," she muttered, trying to sound annoyed but knowing she wasn’t fooling either of them.
But Boruto, being Boruto, ignored her completely. Instead of replying, he took a step close. Before Sarada could react, he wrapped his arms loosely around her from behind, pulling her into a warm, gentle embrace.
Sarada’s entire body stiffened, her breath hitching at the unexpected gesture. Her first instinct was to push him away, but her body refused to cooperate. Her cheeks burned hotter than the desert sun during the daylight. Her brows furrowing in bewilderment. What the hell is he doing?!
He rested his chin lightly on the top of her head. “Hmm,” he hummed softly, as if savoring the moment. “You smell nice... like a rose.”
Sarada froze, her cheeks burning as she furrowed her brows further in confusion. She hesitantly brought her hand to her hair and took a subtle sniff. Nothing. It smelled like… nothing. She hadn’t even showered yet! Did he seriously just go crazy?
Sarada froze, her brain short-circuiting. A rose? What kind of nonsense was that? What was she even supposed to say to something like that? She tried to summon her usual wit, but all she managed was a shaky, incredulous:
"Y-you’re so weird.” Her voice was quieter now, caught somewhere between flustered and, though she hated to admit it, oddly comforted. And why the hell do I feel comforted?
She felt his lips smirk against her hair. “And yet, you’re not pushing me away.”
Her cheeks burned, and she clenched her fists at her sides, trying to counter his annoying ass. But instead, all she could manage was a quiet, begrudging grumble. "Just go, Boruto. I beg you," she groaned in frustration. “If you came out here just to annoy the hell out of me, you can leave now.”
Boruto chuckled, not giving in just yet, but deciding it was probably time to back off a little.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop. Chill, princess." He raised his hands and took a step back away from her, casually leaning back to the railing. "But, for the record, I didn’t come out here just to annoy you. I wanted to check on you.” His voice turned serious.
Sarada blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. She turned her head slightly and looked at him under her eyelashes. "Check on me?” she asked.
He gave her a shrug. “Yeah, well… you didn’t eat dinner, and you’ve been acting all... I don’t know, weird lately. Thought maybe you could use some company.”
“I wasn’t hungry,” Sarada said quickly, the words tumbling out before she could think them through. It was a lie and a weak one at that.
The truth was she’d been avoiding him—needed to avoid him. The weight of her last conversation with Sumire was still fresh in her mind. And every time Boruto and her simply interact already makes her feel guilty. The last thing Sarada wanted was for Sumire to think that her feelings for her were just nothing. She's her close friend... and friends shouldn't be selfish.
“I didn’t feel like eating. I just— no, It’s nothing."
She hoped (prayed) that Boruto wouldn’t press her further. He studied her for a moment, his expression softening as he sighed
She hoped he wouldn't press her further. Boruto studied her quietly before sighing. "That's not good for your health, Sarada. Tsk, tsk, tsk."
Her eyes narrowed. Why is he acting like my parents?
Before she could snap back, he reached into his jacket, pulling out a small cloth-wrapped bundle.
“Good thing I brought you something anyway.”
She blinked in surprise as he handed it to her. Unwrapping the cloth revealed a handful of freshly made flatbread seasoned with spices like cumin and coriander, still warm. Inside was a torn beef meat into small pieces and fresh leafy vegetables.
“You… brought these for me?” She looked at him with a disbelief expression.
“Yeah,” he replied casually, leaning back against the railing. “Figured you’d be stubborn about it, though.”
Sarada stared at the food for a moment, feeling a faint warmth spreading in her chest by the gesture.
“Thank you,” she murmured, taking a small bite. The flavors burst across her tongue, and she realized just how hungry she was.
Boruto’s grin widened. “Not hungry, huh?”
She shot him a half-hearted glare but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “You’re still annoying.”
They stood in comforting silence for a while as she finished the food while Boruto watched her with that infuriatingly warm smile. As Sarada finished the last bite, she wiped her mouth and set the empty cloth down the railing with a quiet sigh of contentment.
But then, to her surprise, Boruto leaned in, resting his forehead lightly against her shoulder, and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her in gently, but not tightly, just enough for her to feel his closeness. The unexpected gesture caused her body to stiffen for a moment, but she quickly relaxed under the warmth of his presence. Yet, she remained still, unsure what to make of their sudden intimacy.
"I missed you," he murmured, his voice so soft it felt like a melody in the night. He didn’t look up, his words muffled slightly against her shoulder
Sarada’s breath hitched. His words hung in the air, and for a moment, she forgot how to respond. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest, each beat echoing louder than the one before.
She turned her head slightly, her gaze drifting to his unruly blond hair brushing against her shoulder.
“W-What?” she whispered, trembling as her heart remained beating fast. “I’ve been here the whole time. How could you miss me?”
He let out a small laugh, the sound vibrating against her shoulder.
“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “You’ve been so caught up in everything else. Missions, talking to Yodo..." He lifted his head slightly, tilting it so that he could catch her gaze. His single blue eye was warm, like the desert sky before sunrise. “It just felt like... you were avoiding me.”
Her lips parted in surprise, and she found herself unable to argue because it was true. His words hit her harder than she expected. She looked away, suddenly finding the stars above the desert more interesting than the intense emotion in his gaze.
“You’re imagining things,” she said quickly in a defensive tone. “I’ve just been... busy. That’s all," Sarada lied. It's true that she’d buried herself in the mission, focusing on the work and keeping herself occupied. She shifted uncomfortably, her hands tightening on the cool metal railing.
Boruto didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tightened his arm slightly around her waist, drawing her a little closer.
"You don't have to lie. I can read you better than anyone else," he said after a moment.
Slowly, Boruto lifted his head, his single blue eye locked onto hers as though trying to piece together a puzzle she wasn’t ready to show him. There was no teasing grin now, no playful glint. His expression was serious.
“What happened back in Konoha, Sarada?” he asked softly. “You’ve been... different ever since we got here. I mean, before I left for the mission, we were fine. Everything felt fine.” He paused, running a hand through his messy blond hair, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “But now…”
He trailed off, shaking his head slightly as if he couldn’t quite find the right words. His hand slipped away from her waist, but he didn’t step back. Instead, he let it rest at his side, his fingers brushing against hers as if he wasn’t ready to lose the connection completely.
“If I did something—” his voice softened further, laced with an uncertainty, “...just tell me, Sarada. I’ll apologize. I swear. I just... I hate seeing you like this. I don’t want you to feel this way.” There was no accusation in his tone, no demand for an explanation. Only concern.
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words refused to come. Her chest tightened as the weight of Boruto’s gaze bore into her. Unable to meet his gaze longer, her eyes searched the horizon, focusing on the distant dunes as they danced under the moonlight.
She didn’t know where to start. How could she explain the things running inside her head since Sumire confessed what she felt? How could she tell him about the guilt that was eating her up from the inside?
"Sumire talked to me," she said finally after the long silence.
At her words, Boruto’s demeanor shifted. His smile faded, and his gaze grew serious. "What did she say?"
She swallowed hard, her hand gripping the railing tighter. "It's... complicated," she said evasively.
"I know you guys are tight," he began, "but you've been off since we arrived. Did she say something that upset you?"
Sarada bit her bottom lip, feeling the weight of the words she wasn't saying. She wanted to tell him everything, but the fear of hurting Sumire held her back. If Sumire had chosen not to tell him yet, then it was her right to keep that to herself.
"It's nothing," she said, voice quieter than she intended. "Just girl stuff."
Boruto studied her for a moment. "Alright," he said, though his tone suggested he didn't fully believe her.
They stood there in silence with his arm still around her waist, offering a sense of security that she desperately needed. In times when her mind raced with doubts and worries, it's Boruto's presence always managed to cut through it.
"You do know now, don’t you? That I like Boruto a lot, and yet you just leaped into his arms. Did you think about my feelings at all… even just for a little bit, Sarada?"
But Sarada knew she couldn't let this go on.
Guilt twisted in her chest, sharp and unrelenting. Sumire liked Boruto a lot, and... she doesn't. Therefore, it didn’t excuse the way she had acted. Leaning on Boruto, seeking his warmth, letting herself be pulled into this type of situation. This is not the first time, and this should be the last. It wasn’t fair. Not to Sumire.
They were childhood friends, nothing more, nothing less. That’s what they were. That’s all they were supposed to be. And childhood friends didn’t hold each other this way, didn’t let their walls down so completely, didn’t... didn’t need each other like this.
Taking another deep breath, Sarada took a deliberate step back, carefully slipping out of Boruto's loose hold, causing his arms to drop to his sides. He parted his lips slightly as if to say something, but no words came out. His single blue eye shimmered in the moonlight, a glint of sadness flickering within it. The corners of his mouth twitched, caught between a forced smile and a frown. In the end, he pressed his lips into a tight line.
Looking at him, her stomach twists in an uncomfortable way. The warmth of his touch lingered on her waist, feeling the sudden chill of the night as it rushed to fill the space between them. However, despite all of that, she didn’t let herself step closer again. It was better this way, or so she told herself. But the sadness in Boruto’s eye, the way his hand twitched at his side like he didn’t know what to do without her there, made her chest tighten all over again.
"We shouldn't..." Sarada hesitated the weight of her words pressing heavily on her chest. She swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on the vast desert beyond, unable to meet Boruto’s eyes. Her hands gripped the railing so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
“We shouldn’t be this close,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Boruto blinked, his confusion deepening. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
She turned to face him, forcing herself to meet his gaze. The sadness in his single blue eye made her chest ache, but she pushed the feeling aside. “Sumire likes you." Before Sarada could stop herself, she said the truth bluntly.
Shit!
Boruto’s expression shifted, surprise flickering across his face. “Sumire... likes me?”
Sarada nodded, her throat tightening. “Yes, and I don’t want to come between you two. She’s my friend, Boruto. My only real friend after the omnipotence... after you were gone.... and I can’t hurt her like that.”
He frowned, stepping closer to her, his hands resting on the railing beside hers. “Sarada—"
"No." She shook her head, frustration and guilt warring within her. “You don’t understand, Boruto. She told me how much she cares about you, and I’ve been acting like her feelings don’t matter— a jerk. I can’t do that to her. I won’t.”
Sarada took a shaky breath, forcing herself to keep her composure. The warmth of Boruto’s hand lingering near hers was too much, so she took a deliberate step back, creating a space between them. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she struggled to find the right words.
"L-Let's just focus on our mission... about the shinjus before anything else. We have a mission, and I need to stay focused. I can’t afford any distractions. And if you really care about me, Boruto. I need you to stay away from me... for my own sanity.”
Boruto’s brows furrowed, and his expression shifted from confusion to hurt, and it pained her more.
"Distractions?" he echoed in a low voice, nodding. "That’s what I am to you, Sarada?"
Sarada winced internally at the hurt tone she could hear creeping into his voice, but she forced herself to press on.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said hastily. “I just... this isn’t the time or place for—” She gestured vaguely, avoiding his eyes. “—for whatever this is.”
“Whatever this is?” Boruto repeated, his voice growing colder. He stepped back, his arms crossing over his chest as he looked at her with a mix of disbelief and hurt. “So, I’m just a distraction now. A bother.”
Sarada’s heart twisted painfully at his words, but she forced herself to remain stoic. “I didn’t say that,” she said quietly, though even she could hear how unconvincing it sounded.
“You didn’t have to,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I get it, Sarada. Loud and clear.”
“No, wait—” She stepped forward, her hand reaching out instinctively, but Boruto took another step back, putting more distance between them. His single visible eye shimmered in the moonlight, but she couldn’t tell if it was from anger or sadness—or both.
“You don’t have to explain,” he said curtly, his voice flat now, devoid of the teasing warmth it usually carried. “I get it. We’ve got bigger things to worry about. Forgive me, I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Boruto, that’s not what I meant—” she started, but before she could finish, he turned on his heel and vanished in a blur, leaving a faint trail of dust in his trace.
Sarada stood frozen, her hand still outstretched as the empty space where Boruto had been just moments ago. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs as she stared into the emptiness, her mind racing with everything she should have said.
She leaned heavily against the railing, her breathing uneven. Eventually, tears start pouring from her eyes.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” her voice trembled as she whispered into the night. “Why do I keep hurting people around me?”
Sarada closed her eyes, gripping the railing tightly as she tried to steady herself. For all her training, all her strength, she felt utterly powerless in this moment. She wanted to chase after him, to tell him that she loved having him close to her. But she stayed rooted in place, holding by the fear that she might make things wrong once again.
Things will be better, Sarada... Just do it for your friend.
Notes:
Everyone can cry or whatever, but Boruto and Sarada DESERVED that hug.
I know some people were quick to criticize Sarada, calling her selfish for hugging Boruto at that moment, but let’s be real. That hug was everything they both needed. After everything they’ve been through, all the pain they’ve carried alone, that hug wasn’t selfish.
Sometimes, people forget that even the strongest individuals need comfort, and Sarada offering that moment of solace to Boruto was the most selfless and human thing she could have done. She's his home now, remember?
So, yeah. Fuck them.
Chapter 2: Boruto
Notes:
Due to public demand, I offer you the next chapter of this fic!! *applause * applause
On a serious note, I initially planned for this story to be shorter, but I’ve decided to make it a bit longer so we can savor the journey to its conclusion. As for events in this chapter that don’t align perfectly with the manga, let’s just roll with it! lol After all, the first chapter already took its own creative liberties, so I’ll make sure everything ties together nicely by the end.
Anyway, thank you for the longggg wait. Have fun
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The conference room was suffocating with silence despite the desert wind rattling the windows, which made you want to nod off. And Boruto was no exception. He was doing his very best to focus on the meeting. He really was.
He leaned back in his chair, resting his elbow on the armrest as he propped his chin on his hand. There were maps on the table, strategies being discussed, and Yodo tossing around words like “tactics” and “reinforcements,” but his attention kept sliding somewhere else. Or, more specifically, to someone else.
His lone eye kept dating forward on the person across the table, Sarada, who was sitting perfectly in a straight posture. Her perfect raven eyes fixed on the council members discussing perimeter defense strategies. Or, at least, she was trying to keep them fixed.
Her head dipped forward for half a second before she snapped it back up, blinking fast like she was trying to pretend she hadn’t almost fallen asleep. Boruto’s mouth twitched, and he had to fight back a grin. Seriously? She thought nobody would notice? He could practically see her trying to stifle a yawn, her lips pressing together like that was going to hide it.
He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to smile. Cute.
"I need you to stay away from me, Boruto."
Suddenly, Sarada's words from the other night replayed in his mind, hurting him inside that he wanted to admit.
Boruto quickly fixed his features into a serious look, forcing himself to look back at the map laid out on the table. This was a serious discussion. The council members were debating adjustments to patrol rotations, Yodo was laying out contingency plans, and he was supposed to be contributing to them. Now wasn’t the time to admire Sarada.
Also, he wasn’t supposed to care. She’d made that clear. And it wasn’t like she owed him anything. But damn, it still hurt.
Still, his gaze betrayed him, sliding back toward Sarada before he could stop it. She pushed her glasses up her nose, and a few strands of her hair fell into her face. He swallowed hard, clenching his jaw to stop the impulse to lean forward and push them back for her and maybe let his fingers stay for just a second longer than necessary. Boruto felt a little bit ridiculous about how his head was thinking.
But of course, he didn’t.
He's not crazy enough not to do that. Not here. Not with Yodo and the Suna Council. So, instead, he watched as Sarada did it herself. It wasn’t fair, really. She didn’t even know how distracting she was, how something as small as fixing her hair could throw him off his game entirely.
She doesn't want you, man. Accept the reality, he talked to himself.
He swallowed hard, forcing his attention back to the map in front of him, pretending to listen to whatever the hell Yodo was talking about now.
“Boruto,” Yodo’s voice cut through, snapping him back to reality. “You’ve been unusually quiet today. Anything to add?”
He blinked, sitting up straighter and scrambling to come up with something that didn’t make it obvious he hadn’t heard half of what was said. “Uh, no, I think your strategy covers it,” he said, hoping that sounded convincing. “Just, uh, maybe make sure the squads on the north side have backup."
Yodo didn’t look impressed, but she nodded anyway. Boruto sank back into his chair, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sarada glance at him, just briefly, before she turned her attention back to her notes with her brows furrowed as her pen flew across the page.
He couldn’t tell if the look was sadness, longing, or something else entirely. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t supposed to care.
But it was killing him to pretend he didn’t.
After six grueling hours and thirty minutes, they finally had a meeting break for like an hour, which is good than nothing at all, considering that Boruto felt like his soul had been sucked out through his eyeball. Seriously, how did anyone sit through this kind of thing every day without losing their mind? His butt was completely numb, his legs stiff from being glued to the same chair for so long.
Was this why adults were always so grumpy? Meetings? It had to be the meetings. Boruto remembered his old man and Shikamaru.
He stretched his arms above his head, wincing as his stiff muscles protested. His back cracked loudly enough to make the council members and a few other people ahead of him pause and glance back, but he just waved it off with a serious face.
"Long day," he muttered, standing up. "Just call me if the meeting will resume."
Deciding he needed to clear his brain before it turned into mush, Boruto slipped out of the room, shoving his hands into his pockets. He tried to look for Sarada, but she was nowhere to be found, and Yodo was too. So, they must be together somewhere.
Instead of heading for the streets, he wandered up to the veranda just outside the meeting hall. The desert air hit him like a wall, warm and dry, but it was a welcome change from the suffocating, stale atmosphere of the conference room. He leaned against the railing, staring out at the people below. He sucked in a deep breath, the faint scent of roasted meat and spices from nearby stalls making him think of what would be his dinner tonight.
“I'm starving,” he murmured, running a hand through his golden hair.
He glanced up, looking at the almost dark sky. Himawari would love this place.
Through his solitude, the sound of sandals suddenly broke the silence.
Boruto froze for a second before turning his head slightly. Sarada stepped onto the veranda, her expression tense as she blinked in surprise. She clearly hadn’t expected anyone else to be there, least of all him.
“Oh,” she said, hesitating on the threshold. Her eyes darted to the side like she was considering retreating back into the meeting hall. “I didn’t think anyone would be out here. I'm sorry for interrupting.”
She looked exhausted with those dark circles around her eyes, but damn, she still looked perfect. The way the fading sunlight wrapped around her, catching the sharp angles of her face and softening them, made his breath hitch. Her glasses caught the light just right, a quick flash that drew his eye straight to hers, and for a second, he forgot how to think straightly.
She wasn’t doing anything special. She was just standing before him like a corpse, but it hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. She wasn’t even trying to look beautiful, but she was. Effortlessly. Completely.
He bit the inside of his cheek hard, hoping the sharp sting would snap him out of it. But it didn’t. His fingers twitched at his sides, the stupid, stupid urge to reach out and tuck that loose strand of hair behind her ear.
The worst part was knowing she had no idea. She had no idea how much power she had over him. She was just standing there, exhausted, completely oblivious to the mess she was turning him into inside.
Boruto swallowed hard, forcing his eye away from her to even out his breathing. He couldn’t let her see it.
You're supposed to be mad, Boruto. What are you doing?!
He shrugged, pushing off the railing and shoving his hands into his pockets. He kept his expression neutral and his voice casual. “Didn’t know this spot was reserved. I’ll go.”
He started to walk past her, his heart tightening in his chest when he passed her, their shoulder brushing.
But then she spoke.
“Wait, Boruto.”
He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder. His lone eye met hers for the briefest moment before she quickly looked away, her gaze dropping to the ground. She cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable. “You don’t have to leave... W-We can share the place—" Her eyes widened. "I meant!! it's big for two people, so you don't have to leave."
Share the place.
His heart slammed against his ribs at her words, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to do. He glanced at her again, catching the way she was standing there, stiff and unsure, like she wasn’t sure if she should have said anything at all. Her lips were pressed together, and her shoulders were just slightly hunched.
“Unless... you don’t want to,” she added quickly, her words tumbling over themselves as she pushed her glasses up her nose. “I-I just thought... since we’re both here... it wouldn’t make sense for you to leave just because I—” She stopped, her cheeks faintly tinged with color, her hands fidgeting at her sides.
Boruto blinked, his heart aching at the sight of her so wounded. He wanted to laugh, to tell her she didn’t have to explain herself, but the knot in his chest kept the words from coming out. Instead, he shrugged, playing it cool even as his stomach twisted.
“Sure. Whatever.” He walked back to his spot and leaned back against the railing again.
He didn’t look at her as he said it, keeping his gaze fixed on the scene before them. But he could feel her presence beside him, the way she hesitated before moving closer to the railing. She kept a deliberate distance between them, and somehow, that gap felt bigger than the whole veranda.
And heaven knows how much Boruto wanted to grab her arm and pull her closer, to let her feel the weight of his arms around her despite the suffocating heat of the Suna's weather. He wanted to make her feel that the distance she was trying to put between them didn’t make a damn difference because he still cared. Because he couldn’t stop caring, no matter how much she told him to focus on something.
For the whole time, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it wasn’t unbearable either. The desert wind carried the faint hum of the village below, and the warm, golden glow of the setting sun painted the sand in shades of amber and crimson.
Out of the corner of his eye, Boruto saw her glance at him, her expression softening slightly. She looked like she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to start.
So, he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The seconds dragged into minutes, each one heavier than the last, but she still hadn’t uttered a single word. Boruto’s chest tightened with every tick of silence, each passing moment making him wonder if she’d ever say anything at all.
Her lips parted once, twice, as she might finally speak, but each time, she pressed them together again, her shoulders tensing as though the words were too heavy to get out.
He waited, pretending not to notice, even though every nerve in his body was tuned to her. He told himself he didn’t care, that it didn’t matter if she spoke or stayed quiet. But deep down, he knew he was lying.
To cut it short, their meeting break ended, and they still hadn't spoken with each other.
What a fucking sad ending, right?
The sound of footsteps and a creaking door broke the stillness. Both of them turned just as Araya peeked his head out from the meeting hall, his expression neutral as ever.
“Boruto. Sarada.” His voice was calm, but his words carried weight. “The meeting is resuming. You should both come back inside.”
Boruto straightened, his casual posture slipping as he turned fully toward the doorway. His lone eye flicked back to Sarada for a moment, but her gaze was fixed on Araya, and he was looking back at her, too. At the moment, Boruto wanted to gouge his eyes with his bare hands.
“Got it,” he said shortly, stepping past Araya without looking back. His chest felt heavier with each step he took.
Sarada followed a second later, her steps quieter, slower. She didn’t look at Boruto as they walked back into the meeting hall, and he didn’t look at her.
Days passed, and the distance between them only seemed to grow bigger. They acted like strangers, only speaking when necessary and keeping it strictly formal when it came to work. No jokes, no casual banter, no lingering glances. It was as if everything they’d been before had vanished into thin air.
It was harder on Boruto than he’d ever admit. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to the coldness, the polite walls between them. For as long as he could remember, if he were put in a room with everyone in his life, Sarada would be the one he’d go straight to. She wasn’t just someone he cared about. She was his home. And now? Now it felt like home had locked the door and left him standing out in the cold.
He shook the thought from his mind, focusing instead on the food in front of him.
He, Mitsuki, and Araya were sitting inside one of Suna’s most popular restaurants. The place was bustling with life, filled with the mouthwatering aroma of spices and roasted meats. Araya had been going on and on about how this spot served the best cuisine in all of Suna, and Boruto had reluctantly agreed to come along if only to get his teammates off his back about moping.
“This place is amazing, isn’t it?” Araya said, gesturing to the spread on their table. Plates piled high with grilled skewers, warm flatbreads, and bowls of richly spiced stews. He leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Told you guys, Suna doesn’t mess around when it comes to food.”
Mitsuki nodded as he chewed thoughtfully. “It’s impressive. The balance of spices is quite unique. My parent would approve.”
Boruto stabbed at his plate half-heartedly, letting out a noncommittal grunt. The food was good, great, even, but his appetite wasn’t cooperating. His mind kept drifting back to somewhere other than food.
“Okay, seriously,” Araya said suddenly, leaning forward and fixing Boruto with a sharp look. “Boruto, you’re Boruto, right? Uzumaki Boruto, the son of the Seventh Hokage, Uzumaki Naruto?”
Boruto blinked, momentarily stunned by the question. He stared at Araya like he’d just sprouted another head. “What?”
“Don’t look at me like that!” Araya huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m just making sure you’re that Hokage’s son, you know, after the whole Omnipotence thing. Gotta be sure.”
Boruto’s face twisted in confusion, and he leaned back slightly. “Yeah, I am. Why?”
"So you and Sarada-san are close. Like this close?" He showed a small gap in his thumb and index finger. "I remember you being close when the genin happened."
Boruto rolled his eye and nodded.
Araya narrowed his eyes, resting his chin on his hand as he studied Boruto like he was some kind of puzzle to solve. His thumb and index finger were still hovering, emphasizing the this close gap he’d mentioned earlier.
"What is it, Araya?" Mitsuki interjected.
Araya shrugged. "Nah, just noticing something. You and Sarada,” he repeated, his brows raising. “You’ve both been acting weird. Did you guys have a fight or something?”
Boruto stiffened slightly, but he tried to brush it off with a shrug. “Nothing happened,” he said, his voice flat. “We’re just... busy with work. That’s all.”
Araya snorted, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, right. ‘Busy with work.’ Sure. Because being busy totally explains why you barely look at each other now. Or why you talk to her like she’s some stranger instead of someone you’ve known practically your whole life.”
Boruto’s jaw tightened, his knuckles going white as he gripped his utensils, particularly his knife. “I said nothing happened.” His tone was sharper this time, enough to make Araya raise his hands in surrender.
“Alright, alright, chill out, man. I was just simply asking,” Araya said, leaning back in his chair.
Boruto’s gaze darted away, his teeth clenching as he stared at the far wall of the restaurant. Mitsuki, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke up.
“I agree. It’s unusual,” Mitsuki said thoughtfully, tilting his head. “You and Sarada have always had a natural connection. Even when you argued, there was... an understanding between you. But now, there’s only distance.” He paused, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “It doesn’t seem like the kind of distance that happens naturally. It feels forced.”
Boruto glared at him, but there wasn’t much heat behind it. Not Mitsuki, too.
He felt cornered, and the knot in his chest tightened with every passing second. “It’s none of your business,” he snapped, his voice lower now. “Just... drop it, okay?”
Mitsuki studied Boruto for a moment longer with his usual blank expression. Then he reached for another food, his tone casual as he said, “You should talk to her."
Boruto didn't answer and just lowered his gaze to the table. He poked at the food on his plate, doing his best to focus on the flavors Araya had been hyping up all night, and shoved a piece of grilled meat into his mouth.
"Yo, Yodo! Here!" Araya’s voice suddenly rang out as he waved toward someone in the distance.
Boruto raised his head instinctively, following Araya’s line of sight, and saw Yodo walking down the streets. His heart tumbled in his chest when he saw Sarada walking beside her. But his attention didn't stay on Sarada for long. His eye immediately zeroed in on the man walking beside her. He was tall, with an easy, confident smile, and he was saying something to Sarada that made her laugh softly.
Boruto froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. His heart thudded painfully, and his grip on the fork tightened.
Who the hell was that guy?
Boruto’s stomach twisted. He didn’t recognize the guy, but he hated him already.
He didn’t even realize he was staring until Mitsuki spoke to him. “Are you okay, Boruto?”
Boruto blinked, quickly tearing his gaze away. “Yeah,” he muttered, shoving another piece of food into his mouth to cover the bitter taste rising in his throat.
Araya leaned back, glancing at the group in the distance. “Oh, that’s interesting. Didn’t know Sarada was hanging out with someone new. You know him?”
Boruto shook his head, trying to keep his expression neutral. “No idea,” he said shortly, though the words felt like gravel in his mouth.
Mitsuki, ever perceptive, tilted his head as he watched Boruto. “You seem tense,” he said. “Does it bother you?”
“No,” Boruto said too quickly, his voice tight. He shoved his fork down onto the plate with a sharp clink. “Why would it bother me? She can talk to whoever she wants.”
Araya smirked knowingly, crossing his arms. “Uh-huh. Sure. You’re totally not bothered by it. That’s why you’re stabbing your food like it insulted your entire clan.”
Boruto scowled, looking away. “Just eat your food, man.”
But his eye betrayed him, flicking back toward Sarada before he could stop himself. The guy was still there, still smiling, still standing just a little too close for Boruto’s liking. And Sarada wasn’t pulling away. She wasn’t annoyed. If anything, she seemed comfortable, like she didn’t mind the attention.
Boruto’s jaw tightened, his chest aching in a way he hated. He told himself he didn’t care, that it wasn’t a big deal, but the jealousy burned anyway, clawing at him until he couldn’t take it anymore.
He grabbed his drink, taking a long gulp to distract himself, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped. Because no matter how hard he tried to look away, his mind was stuck on one thought:
Who the hell was that guy to Sarada, and why did it feel like he was stealing something that wasn’t his to take?
"You guys didn't wait for us," Yodo said as she reached their table.
Boruto stiffened, his fingers tightening around his glass. He didn’t look up immediately, but he didn’t need to. He could hear their footsteps getting closer, their voices blending with the background hum of the restaurant.
Araya laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We were hungry. Sorry."
So that's the reason why he persisted in taking a big table when they were just the ones eating.
When Borutofinally looked up, his lone eye flicking over the group. Sarada was smiling, looking relaxed as she stood. She didn’t meet Boruto’s gaze, though, and that stung more than it should have. But his attention quickly shifted to the guy standing on Sarada’s other side, his smile still in place as if he belonged there.
"Who's your friend, Sarada?" Mitsuki asked, nodding toward the guy.
“Oh, this is Eizan,” Sarada said, gesturing toward the man. “He’s part of Suna’s logistics team. We were discussing some of the supply routes for the border patrol earlier.”
“Nice to meet you,” Eizan said smoothly, giving a polite nod to the group. His voice was friendly, confident, but to Boruto, it felt like nails on a chalkboard.
“Eizan, huh?” Araya said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the guy who’s always talking about optimizing supply chains and stuff, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me,” Eizan said with a small laugh. “It’s not the most exciting job, but it’s important.”
Boruto barely registered the conversation, his attention glued to Sarada. She was standing there with her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her gaze occasionally flicked toward Eizan when he spoke with that faint, polite smile she wore didn’t sit right with Boruto.
“Why don’t you guys sit down and order?” Araya offered, gesturing to the empty seats at the table.
“Right,” Yodo said, pulling out a chair and plopping down next to Araya.
Sarada hesitated for a moment before sitting down on Mitsuki’s side, directly across from Boruto. Eizan sat beside her, his presence instantly unwelcome in Boruto’s eyes.
The new arrivals grabbed the menus from the table, flipping through them as a waiter approached.
“I’ll take the grilled lamb and the spiced rice,” Yodo said confidently, handing her menu back.
Sarada glanced at the menu briefly before speaking. “I’ll have the—”
“You should try the Monster Burger,” Eizan interrupted, his tone bright and enthusiastic. He leaned toward Sarada with an easy smile. “It’s the best-selling item here. Plus, you mentioned earlier you were craving a burger, right? Like that one from that fast-food chain in Konoha?”
Sarada blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She opened her mouth to respond but hesitated, her gaze darting to the waiter, who was now waiting expectantly.
Finally, she forced a smile and nodded. “Sure. That sounds fine.”
“Good choice,” Eizan said with a grin, handing the menu back to the waiter. “She’ll take the Monster Burger combo, and I'll have Kunafa and a soda.”
The waiter nodded, jotting it down before turning to Boruto’s side of the table, but they shook their heads, having already ordered earlier. With a quick nod, the waiter collected the menus and disappeared into the busy crowd.
Boruto didn’t say anything, but inside, his irritation was boiling over. What the hell?
Eizan’s interruption had been rude, plain and simple. Boruto knew Sarada could order for herself; she didn’t need someone else deciding what she should eat. She never had. Boruto had been with Sarada enough times to know that even if she asked for his opinion, she made the final choice. That’s how it always was with them. He’d never once tried to decide for her because he respected her too much for that.
But this man?? Cutting her off, taking control of her order like it was his right? What an asshole.
A man should never decide what a woman wants. He’d never done that to Sarada. Not once.
And he never would.
He bit back the urge to say something, to call Eizan out for overstepping, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not without making things more awkward for everyone. Instead, he stabbed at his food AGAIN with a little more force than necessary, his appetite all but gone.
“So, Sarada,” Eizan said, leaning slightly toward her, his tone casual but carrying an undertone of curiosity. “You’ve been here for a few days now, right? How are you finding Suna? Adjusting well?”
The table felt more crowded, and the atmosphere shifted. Eizan’s easygoing behaviour grated on Boruto’s nerves, especially when he kept engaging Sarada in conversation.
Araya and Yodo were chatting beside him, lost in their own world, while Mitsuki chimed in occasionally. They are clearly having fun, but Boruto barely registered it. His sharp ears were honed entirely on Sarada and Eizan, no matter how low they spoke.
Sarada adjusted her glasses. “I’ve been to Suna before, so I’m used to the environment. It’s an efficient village, especially with the advancements you’ve made in logistics and resource management.”
Eizan’s smile widened. “That’s good to hear. It’s always great to get feedback from someone like you. A fresh perspective from someone outside the village is invaluable.”
Boruto watched the exchange, his jaw tightening as Eizan chuckled. “That’s high praise coming from a shinobi of your calibre.”
The compliment made Sarada glance down, a faint flush dusting her cheeks, and that was the final straw for Boruto.
“So,” Boruto interrupted, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, his voice louder than necessary. All the attention went to him, except Sarada, since it was the first time he had talked since the time they got here. And it only made Boruto mad.
Why she isn't looking at me?
“Eizan, was it? How’d you get into logistics? Doesn’t exactly sound like the dream job for most people.”
Eizan turned to him, blinking at the sudden question. “Oh, well, I’ve always been good at organizing and strategizing. Logistics just made sense to me. It might not be glamorous, but it keeps everything running smoothly.”
Boruto gave a short, forced laugh. “Right. Gotta love those spreadsheets and supply charts. Thrilling stuff.” He rolled his eye.
“Boruto,” Sarada said, her voice low, her gaze finally snapping to him. There was a warning in her tone, but he barely acknowledged it, his focus still on Eizan.
Eizan, to his credit, only smiled politely. “It’s not for everyone, but it’s rewarding in its own way.”
“Must be,” Boruto muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Eizan chuckled awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond. Sarada glanced at Boruto, her brows furrowing slightly.
Why is she mad?
The table grew tense, the lighthearted conversation replaced by an awkward silence. Mitsuki glanced between Boruto and Sarada, his lips curling into the faintest of amused smiles, though he said nothing.
Yodo, clearly sensing the shift, tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Boruto barely heard her until their new order arrived.
Boruto's gaze flickered to the waiter as he returned with the orders and placed them on the table one by one. After that, the newcomers began to dig in. Boruto, however, stayed still, his attention fixed on Sarada as she ate her own food.
He watched as she took her first bite.
Her face shifted almost immediately. Her brows furrowed, her lips pressing together as she paused mid-chew. She swallowed quickly as if forcing it down, and her expression tightened in an unmistakable look of disgust.
Eizan, seated beside her, noticed her hesitation and leaned in slightly. “What’s wrong, Sarada? Does it taste bad?”
Sarada glanced at him, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She gulped again before shaking her head. “No, it’s not. It’s good,” she said politely, not wanting to hurt the boy's feelings.
Boruto’s lips twitched, and a chuckle escaped him before he could stop it. He shook his head and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “She doesn’t like tomatoes, smartass. She hates them.”
Eizan blinked, taken aback, as Boruto reached across the table and grabbed Sarada’s plate.
Without hesitation, Boruto opened the bun with his fork, revealing four thick slices of bright red tomatoes. He stabbed them with the same fork and popped them into his mouth one by one, chewing exaggeratedly, just to piss the boy out.
“That’s why,” Boruto said, swallowing the last piece, “you should be asking what someone prefers to eat instead of deciding for them, Ai...zen.” He let the man’s name hang in the air just long enough to make his point crystal clear.
"It's Eizan, Boruto," he heard Mitsuki whisper, but he paid him no mind.
Boruto leaned back in his seat, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as he pushed the now tomato-free plate back toward Sarada. “There. Now it’s good.”
"I said, It's fine, Boruto," Sarada said, looking at him with those beautiful intense raven eyes.
"Eat!" He gave her no attention and nudged the plate closer to her.
Eizan’s confident behavior faltered, and he turned to Sarada with an apologetic expression. “I’m so sorry, Sarada. I didn’t mean to... I didn’t know. Uhm, we could order again if you want.”
Sarada quickly shook her head, waving a hand dismissively as she tried to ease the boy's worry and guilt. “No, it’s fine. Really.”
She glanced at her plate, now free of the offending tomatoes, and took another bite, chewing carefully before swallowing.
“See? It’s actually good,” she said, giving Eizan a small reassuring smile.
Boruto's smirk instantly vanished as irritation prickled at the edges of his mind. Good? She was just forcing it down moments ago, her face practically screaming disgust. And now she was acting like it was the best thing she’d ever eaten?
Eizan visibly relaxed, his own smile returning. “I’m glad, Sarada,” he said, leaning back with a chuckle.
Nye, nye, nye! I'm glad, Sarada. Boruto mimicked in his head, his lone eye narrowing as he stared daggers at the man.
I pray to all gods, old and new, that you'll choke to death with your food.
Annoying bastard.
Notes:
My boy will always be down bad for Sarad fr.
Chapter 3: Sarada
Summary:
Boruto dipped his head slightly, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, “You’re staring, Sarada.”
Her stomach flipped. She didn’t even realize she had been staring. She sucked in a sharp breath, her movements faltering for just a second. He chuckled lowly, his fingers squeezing her waist just briefly before letting go.
"Let's go—"
Boruto barely got the words out before Sarada grabbed his hand back, and before she even registered what she was doing...
She kissed him.
Borusara week Day 1: Free Day
Notes:
So, uh... I just realized it's been (checks notes) over two months since my last update??? Oops... 😭 Sorry y’all, life’s been hectic, and I totally fell down a Timebomb rabbit hole and got mildly addicted.
ngl I’ve also just been lazy, dealing with writer’s block, and fully enjoying my break without thinking about work. 😌 But thankfully, BoruSara Week came around and gave me some much-needed inspiration! So, here’s a new chapter, hope you enjoy it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Have you ever felt like you were drowning under the weight of an intense look? That’s what Sarada had been feeling as those dark blue lone eye bore intensely at her, making her uncomfortable, especially how loud her heart was beating. She couldn’t explain it, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t looked at her a thousand times before. But now, there was something different in his gaze, something intense and heavy that made her want to fidget in her seat.
Though Sarad kept her focus on her not-so-good food, trying to ignore the sensation prickling at the back of her neck, but it was no use. Even as Eizan spoke beside her, his voice felt distant, and Sarada couldn’t shake the attention of Boruto sitting across the table.
"Sarada, you should wear those clothes I picked for you." Yodo's voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. "Can't wait to see you weat them."
Sarada blinked, adjusting her glasses as she forced her attention back to Yodo, who smirked at her from across the table.
“Oh?” Mitsuki’s smooth voice chimed in, his golden eyes glinting with interest. “You went shopping?”
Yodo leaned back in her chair, chewing her food. “Of course. Someone had to save Sarada from melting into the sand. Seriously, she looked like she was about to pass out in that exposed clothes." She gestured to Sarada's clothing. She's telling the truth, actually, that this type of clothing is not suitable for this climate.
She sighed, shaking her head. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Yes, it was,” Yodo shot back, grinning. “Don’t downplay it. You were practically melting.”
Eizan, who had been listening with an amused smile, decided to add his input. “Well, it was a good decision. The heat here isn’t forgiving, and proper clothing makes all the difference.”
Sarada nodded, remembering how Yodo had dragged her through Suna’s marketplace, pointing out different fabrics and styles. She had to admit, it was a relief to get something more breathable, even if Yodo had a little too much fun picking out outfits for her
Boruto hadn’t said a word, but Sarada could feel his persistent gaze on her. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, his presence was like an itch she couldn’t scratch.
“Oh, definitely,” Yodo answered proudly. “Suna fashion is top-tier. I made sure Sarada got something that actually looks good instead of her usual, you know, ninja gloom aesthetic.”
"You don't bully our clothing like that."
“I’m just being real here, Mitsuki,” Yodo teased. “Even you look so depressed in those clothes. Actually, you three look depressing.”
Araya tilted his head slightly. “I assume Yodo picked out something flashy?”
“Oh, definitely,” Yodo answered proudly. “Suna fashion is top-tier. I made sure Sarada got something that actually looks good."
Eizan leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his palm as he stared directly at her. “I have to agree with Yodo on this one. The lighter colors suited you, Sarada. You looked refreshing and… sexy."
Sarada froze for a second before letting out a polite chuckle, feeling a little bit uncomfortable.
Sexy? It was a weird comment coming from someone she had barely known for a week. Sure, she had chatted with him a few times in the Hokage Tower, exchanging formal pleasantries with the other Suna council members out of politeness. But beyond that, they weren’t exactly close.
And yet, somehow, Eizan had started acting like they were.
At first, it was subtle, just small conversations here and there. Then, it escalated. During their lunch breaks, he’d casually invite himself to sit with her as if they had planned to eat together. She had brushed it off at first, chalking it up to him being friendly. But then, earlier today, he had just appeared out of nowhere while she and Yodo were having fun shopping, effortlessly inserting himself into their plans like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And now this?
Sarada shifted slightly in her seat, gripping her glass a little tighter. She wasn’t new to compliments, but something about this one, about him saying it felt off.
“Uhm... t-thank?" She forced a smile, unsure what exactly to respond with the compliment, if that was even considered a compliment, Sarada wasn't sure.
The sharp sound of something snapping made Sarada flinch slightly. Her eyes flickered toward Boruto just in time to see his hand slowly lower to the table, his chopsticks broken clean in half.
Everyone in the table fell into silence and all the attention went to Boruto. HE exhaled sharply through his nose, barely resisting the urge to glare daggers at Sarada— no, it's actually directly towards Eizan.
Then, with a slow, lazy smirk that did absolutely nothing to mask the anger raging in his eyes, he shrugged. “Didn’t realize Suna’s chopsticks were that weak. My bad.” He dropped the broken chopsticks onto the table with a casual flick of his wrist.
Yodo let out a low whistle. Mitsuki merely blinked, clearly amused but saying nothing. Araya, for his part, was loving the sudden tension, grinning into his drink like he was watching the best drama unfold right in front of him.
Eizan chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah. Must’ve been a bad pair. Don't worry man, I'll look for a supplier with a sturdier chopsticks for your liking.” From smiling so sweetly just a moment ago, his expression shifted abruptly. His lips flattened, and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he met Boruto's gaze head-on.
Boruto didn’t back down. He held Eizan’s glare with a slow, lazy smirk, resting his chin on his hand like he had all the time in the world. “Yeah? You do that,” he said smoothly. “That's very sweet of you, man."
Sarada glanced between them, her discomfort growing by the second. She had a very bad feeling about where this was going, and she knew if she didn't step in, things were going out of control with these two.
“Alright, that’s enough,” she cut in, setting down her drink with just a little more force than necessary. “We’re here to eat, not to talk about these damn chopstick for crying out loud."
Yodo coughed to cover up her laughter. “Atta girl!”
Sarada shot her a sharp look before sighing, rubbing her temples. “Can we just not do this right now?”
Araya, ever the opportunist, decided to jump in before things could escalate further. “You know what? I think we all need to chill.” He clapped his hands together and leaned forward with a grin. “Which is exactly why we’re all going to that small party tonight.”
Eizan finally looked away from Boruto, his expression easing as he turned to Araya. “Party?”
"Yeah, party. “It’s nothing huge, just a little gathering for some Suna shinobi. Drinks, music, good food—you get the idea. We should all go.”
Yodo groaned immediately. “Yeah, that’s a no from me. We’re here for a mission, remember? We don’t have time to be partying.”
Sarada nodded in agreement, adjusting her glasses. “We need to stay focused. This isn’t a vacation.”
Araya waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m asking you to go on some wild all-night rager. Just a few hours. Have a drink, eat some food, relax for once in your life.”
“We are relaxed,” Sarada argued.
Araya raised an eyebrow and gestured between her, Boruto, and Eizan. “Oh yeah? Because this table definitely feels super relaxed right now.”
Yodo crossed her arms. “Even if I wanted to go, which I don’t, we still have to be prepared for anything. We can’t just go out partying when we’re here on official business.”
Araya rolled his eyes. “It’s not like Shinki’s clone is gonna magically appear in the next few hours. And besides, you’ll be surrounded by Suna shinobi. If anything does happen, you’ll hear about it immediately.”
Mitsuki, who had been quietly observing, hummed. “He does make a valid point.”
Sarada shot him a look. “Not helping.”
Mitsuki only smiled. Araya leaned in, directing his attention to Sarada now. “You, of all people, could use a break. If nothing else, it’ll get you away from this awkward mess for a little while.”
Sarada opened her mouth to protest but hesitated. A break did sound nice. Just for a couple of hours. It wasn’t like she’d be completely ignoring the mission.
Yodo sighed heavily, rubbing the back of her head. “Ugh, fine. But only for a little while.”
Araya grinned in victory. “That’s the spirit!” Then his gaze was toward Boruto. “And you? What’s it gonna be, oh mighty Hokage’s son? Gonna sit this one out, or are you actually capable of unwinding for once?”
Boruto, who had been tapping his chopsticks idly against his plate, barely spared him a glance. “If Sarada’s coming, I’ll come too.”
Silence.
Sarada blinked, turning to him in surprise. What? Her brows furrowed slightly. Why was he suddenly depending on his decision on me? Something about that made her chest tighten in a way she didn’t understand.
Boruto didn’t react to Sarada’s stare, keeping his expression uninterested as he grabbed his drink and took a sip like nothing had happened.
Eizan, however, seemed to pick up on it too. His fingers tapped lightly against the table as he chuckled. “Didn’t take you for the type to follow someone else’s lead, Boruto.”
Boruto smirked, setting his drink down. “I don’t. But someone’s gotta keep an eye on her.”
Sarada stood in front of the small mirror in her room, adjusting the floral off-shoulder dress Yodo had practically forced her to buy. It was light and comfortable, perfect for the cooler night air. The fabric brushed against her shoulders as she shifted, feeling slightly out of her element. She wasn’t used to wearing things like this.
She sighed, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It’s just for a few hours. No big deal.
With a final glance at herself, she reached for the doorknob, exhaling slowly before stepping out of her room and shutting the door behind her. Only to be stopped abruptly when she saw someone standing in front of her.
Her body tensed, breath catching in her throat as her eyes landed on the figure standing directly in front of her.
Casually leaning against the railing, arms crossed, looking like he had all the time in the world was Boruto. The dim glow of the lanterns cast a soft light over him, highlighting the sharp edges of his face and the golden tint in his hair.
He was wearing a fitted black turtleneck that sculpted over his toned frame, paired with dark pants that sat just right. The sleeves stretched slightly as his arms flexed, making it impossible not to notice just how much muscle he had gained over the years.
Sarada’s fingers twitched at her sides. Since when did he start dressing like that? How is this the same brat I used to know before?
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to move forward. “What are you doing here?” she asked, forcing her voice to sound casual and normal despite the sudden tightness in her chest.
Boruto turned his head toward her, and for a brief moment, she caught his stunned expression. His gaze swept over her, pausing at her dress, and then his brows raised ever so slightly.
He blinked once. Then twice.
Sarada shifted under his gaze, suddenly feeling the weight of his silence. His lone eye lingered on her dress a second too long before flickering back up to meet hers.
“…Huh.”
Sarada frowned. “What?”
Boruto tilted his head slightly as if trying to make sense of something. Then, just like that, his expression shifted. He pushed off the railing, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Nothing.” He gave her a lopsided smirk. “Just didn’t think you’d actually wear something like that.”
Sarada crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Boruto shrugged, stepping past her as he walked ahead. “Nothing bad. Just… different.”
She hesitated, watching him for a moment before exhaling and following behind him.
Boruto glanced over his shoulder, hands still tucked in his pockets. “Araya said to meet up at the spot. Figured you’d take forever, so I was just killing time.”
Sarada exhaled, rolling her eyes. “I don’t take forever.”
Boruto shot her a knowing look.
She sighed. “…Okay, sometimes I do take forever,” she admitted begrudgingly.
Boruto chuckled, the sound low and amused. “Glad you can admit it.”
Sarada shook her head, brushing past him as she walked ahead. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
Boruto watched her for a second longer, his smirk lingering before he fell into step beside her.
"...Its nice talking to you again, huh?"
Sarada nearly missed a step. She turned her head slightly, catching the way Boruto was looking straight ahead. His expression was blank, but there was something in his voice and gaze— longing. A familiar feeling she hadn't realized she'd been missing.
She glanced away just as quickly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah… I guess it is.”
Boruto huffed a quiet laugh. “Wow. That almost sounded like a real answer, Sarada.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “Shut up.”
He grinned, rubbing his arm dramatically like she’d actually hurt him. “Damn. Already getting violent. Thought this was a friendly moment.”
Sarada rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lips twitched up. They walked in comfortable silence for a bit, the cold desert night wrapping around them, the distant hum of the village filling the spaces between their steps.
“You look nice, by the way.”
Sarada stopped. The way he said it was so casual, so offhanded, like he hadn’t even thought twice about saying it. Like it was just a fact.
Her heart did a weird little flip, but she forced herself to keep her voice steady. “Oh.”
Boruto glanced at her, one brow raised. “That’s all I get? Just ‘oh’?”
She cleared her throat, willing away the warmth creeping up her neck. “I mean… thanks. You, uh…” She gestured vaguely at him, at the way the black turtleneck definitely wasn’t helping her already distracted thoughts. “…look decent.”
Boruto smirked. “Decent, huh?”
Sarada groaned, walking faster. “Forget I said anything.”
Boruto laughed, falling into step beside her again. “No way. I’m holding onto that one forever.”
Minutes had passed, and Boruto was still grinning like an idiot, clearly way too pleased with himself. Sarada tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the quiet hum of the village at night, but it was impossible when he was right there, exuding smugness like it was his second nature.
She shot him a sidelong glance, narrowing her eyes. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Can you blame me?” Boruto snickered. “It’s not every day that Uchiha Sarada calls me decent.” He put extra emphasis on the word like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
Sarada groaned. “I should’ve just stayed in my room.”
Boruto tilted his head, smirking before bumping her shoulder lightly. “Nah. Then who would I annoy all night?”
Sarada exhaled sharply through her nose, fighting the urge to elbow him again. “I’m sure Eizan wouldn’t mind the company.”
Boruto's smile vanished instantly as if it almost made Sarada laugh. His face crumbled in disgust before he scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks. I’d rather fight Jura again. He's more interesting than that ugly-man.”
Sarada rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small, amused smirk that tugged at her lips. “Drama queen.”
She had barely had time to make fun of Boruto's dramatic behavior before she suddenly felt something warmth against her skin. She looked down and saw Boruto's big hand on hers.
Her heart stopped for half a second. This is fine. Everything is fine.
It was bigger than she expected, rough and calloused from years of training, his fingers strong but not suffocating as they curled securely around hers.
Her fingers twitched slightly, but before she could react, before she could think, she looked up at him, eyes wide. “B-Boruto… w-what are you—?”
She tried to pull back, but his grip was firm. It was not tight or forceful. Like he had no intention of letting go.
“Everyone’s looking at you,” he muttered, his voice low. “I need them to know you belong to someone.”
Sarada’s breath hitched. What? Belong to who?
Her pulse roared in her ears as she looked around, realizing for the first time that, yeah—people were looking. More than a few passing glances, more than just curiosity. Some shinobi were from Suna, and some unfamiliar faces were from other villages. And a few people she recognized, like Eizan.
He was standing near the entrance to the party venue, talking with another shinobi, but the second he spotted her and Boruto, his eyes locked onto their hands.
Sarada turned back to Boruto, stunned. “T-To whom?” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Boruto gave her a look like she had just grown two heads. “I don’t know, Sarada. Maybe to Eizan?” he deadpanned, sarcasm dripping from every word that slips out his mouth.
Huh?
Before she could gather a response, Boruto tch’d under his breath and pulled her hand, walking faster. Sarada stumbled slightly before catching up, her face burning as she let him lead her through the crowd.
Boruto hadn’t looked back at her once. Sarada bit the inside of her cheek before focusing on the very real issue at hand.
“Boruto,” she hissed, trying to tug her hand free, but his grip only tightened. “Would you let go?”
“Nope,” he said simply, not even sparing her a glance.
Sarada scowled. “What do you mean nope?”
Boruto exhaled sharply through his nose, finally turning his head slightly toward her. “I mean, I don’t feel like it,” he said with pure stubbornness.
Sarada gawked at him. “What kind of— Boruto, I swear, if you don’t—” She was this close to smacking Boruto upside the head when a group of four people, one of them being Eizen, suddenly approached them, cutting her off mid-grumble.
Sarada felt Boruto’s grip subtly tighten around her fingers, and for some reason, that made her heart jump in a way she really didn’t have time to deal with.
“Oh, it’s good that you two are already here,” Araya said casually, but Sarada did not miss the way his eyes immediately flickered to their intertwined hands. He raised an eyebrow slightly but, to his credit, didn’t say a word about it.
Eizan, however, was a different story. His gaze lingered just a second too long before his lips curved into a small, amused smile. “Didn’t realize you two were… this close,” he said casually, yet there was a bite with something Sarada couldn't quite place.
Boruto’s smirk didn’t disappear. In fact, it grew wider. “Yeah, well,” he said, finally pulling his hand away but doing so deliberately slow. “Guess there’s a lot you don’t realize.”
Yodo stepped in then, obviously picking up on the tension. “Alright, anyway,” she drawled, crossing her arms. “Now that that’s out of the way, are we actually going inside, or are we gonna stand here making awkward comments all night?”
Araya smirked. “I mean, I was having fun watching this.”
Sarada shot him a sharp look. He just held his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Let’s go.”
As they all started heading inside, Sarada felt Eizan move slightly closer to her side. “You could’ve told me to pick you up in your place."
“No, it's fine, actually. You don't need to do that,” she said immediately, shaking her head.
Eizan blinked, then chuckled. “If you say so.”
Before she could respond, a voice from behind made her pause.
“Oi, Sarada.”
She turned, only to find Boruto looking straight at her, his hands now shoved deep in his pockets. His lips quirked slightly as his soft gaze lingered on her.
“Stay close, yeah?”
For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Then she exhaled, adjusting her glasses to cover the way her fingers twitched at her sides. “...Yeah. I know.”
Boruto held her gaze for just a second longer, making sure she understood. Then, with a small nod, he turned and walked ahead, falling into step beside Mitsuki to go somewhere.
Sarada let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her fingers still tingled where his warmth had been just moments ago, and she had to resist the urge to rub her palm against her dress as if that would somehow erase the sensation.
Eizan, who had been watching the exchange with mild interest, leaned in slightly. “You two are pretty close, huh?”
Sarada shot him a flat look. “We grew up together. Of course, we’re close.”
Eizan hummed, unconvinced, but wisely chose not to press further.
As they stepped into the party venue, the atmosphere instantly shifted. Loud, pulsing music thrummed through the air, deep bass shaking the ground beneath them. The beat was infectious, fast, and rhythmic, blending seamlessly with the overlapping conversation and blasts of laughter from the crowd.
In the center of the venue, the crowds had taken over the open space, bodies moving in sync with the pounding beat. Some danced in small groups, spinning and laughing, while others were completely lost in the rhythm, swaying, jumping, and moving like they had no worries in the world.
Sarada blinked, momentarily caught off guard. This… was not what she had expected.
Araya whistled, grinning as he took in the scene. “Now this is a party.”
They made their way toward one of the plush couches tucked near the edge of the venue, away from the wildest part of the crowd but still close enough to feel the pulse of the music vibrating through the floor. The second they sat down, Araya’s eyes instantly twinkled, zeroing in on the bar counter where a very generous pile of drinks was being served.
Sarada chose one of the longer couches, settling into the seat with a small sigh. Almost immediately, Eizan followed and took the spot beside her. She also made sure to leave a space on her other side for Boruto
“Ohoho, now we’re talking,” he said, rubbing his hands together as he scanned the possible drink he would drink. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting a drink first.”
Yodo rolled her eyes. “You always get a drink first.”
“And yet, you’re still surprised,” Araya shot back with a grin before heading toward the bar counter.
"Aren't we all sixteen?" Sarada asked in disbelief, watching as Araya made a beeline for the bar counter.
Yodo scoffed. "Yeah, and you think that's gonna stop him?"
"Age restrictions don't seem to apply when you're Araya." Mitsuki, coming from nowhere, suddenly intervened and dropped himself next to Yodo. Sarada looked behind him to see if Boruto was around, but to her disappointment, he was not.
Mtsuki must have noticed her reaction and turned his body to her. "He's talking to someone. He be right back."
Sarada raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
Mitsuki simply smiled. “Why do you sound so interested?”
She huffed, crossing her arms. “I don’t. I’m just—” She stopped herself, clicking her tongue. “Forget it.”
He tilted his head slightly, and his golden eyes glinted with something she didn't like at all. “A Suna kunoichi, I believe.” He hummed. "...a pretty one."
Sarada gave a slow nod, lips pressed together, feigning a complete lack of concern with the useless information.
A Suna kunoichi. Right.... Who cares? Not that she cared. It wasn’t like Boruto was hers in the first place. Boruto could talk to whoever he wanted. He wasn’t hers. They weren’t—whatever. She had no reason to feel off about it.
And yet, her mind was already painting the image before she could stop it, a Suna kunoichi standing too close, laughing at something dumb he said, placing a hand on his arm. Sarada shakes her head mentally, quickly drowning the thought as she pick up her fingers, ignoring the way Mitsuki’s amused gaze lingered just a second too long.
Eizan chuckled beside her, catching her attention from earlier's conversation. "Suna’s a bit more... relaxed when it comes to these things. As long as you can hold your liquor, no one really cares."
Sarada scoffed. “That doesn't sound safe.”
Eizan shrugged, his tone light. “It’s just how things are here. No one likes restrictions.” His eyes lingered on hers momentarily before he shifted to his seat. Now they are face to face with each other. "I'll grab you some food and drink. Want me to bring you something?"
Before she could respond, a familiar voice cut in smoothly.
“She’s good.”
Eizan blinked, turning his head slightly, and Sarada followed right along, only to find Boruto standing just behind the couch, one hand holding a plate of food, the other gripping a non-alcoholic drink. His expression was unreadable, but his lone blue eye flickered toward Eizan for just a second before he shifted his focus back to Sarada.
Sarada glanced at him up and down, mildly surprised. When did he even get back here?
She blinked, caught off guard. “You scared me.”
Boruto walked around the couch without waiting for a response, dropping himself into the open space beside her. Then, without a word, he set the plate on the low table in front of her and nudged the drink into her hand.
Sarada stared at it. “What is this?”
Boruto smirked. “Food. And a drink. You’re welcome.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t ask you to get me anything.”
Boruto shrugged, completely unbothered. “Didn’t have to. You haven’t eaten since that meeting earlier. Figured you should probably have something before Yodo drags you onto the dance floor.”
Yodo perked up at that. “Ooh, actually that's the plan."
Eizan, who had been watching the entire exchange, chuckled. “Well, that saves me the trouble, I guess.” He leaned back, tilting his head slightly in Boruto’s direction. “Didn’t realize you were in charge of Sarada’s meals now.”
Boruto smirked, leaning back into the couch. “Nah. Just making sure she doesn’t pass out before the night’s even started.”
Eizan hummed, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Right.”
Sarada sighed, ignoring both of them as she finally grabbed the drink and took a small sip. It was cold blue lemonade, refreshing and perfect against the climate of this place.
"Thank you," she whispered, looking up at Boruto, who just smiled sweetly at her.
He stretched his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers resting just barely behind Sarada’s shoulder but close enough that she felt the warmth radiating from his skin.
“Eat,” he said, nodding toward the plate in front of her.
Sarada gave him a look. “I will,” she muttered, taking another sip of her drink. She's actually not that hungry.
Boruto sighed and, without hesitation, picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks and held it up to her lips.
Her eyes widened. “Boruto—”
“Say 'ahhhh'. Sarada,” he said casually, as if this was normal and as if he did this all the time.
And maybe that was the problem. With the way he acted around her, she could almost forget that she was supposed to be keeping her distance. Forget that she had been avoiding him for the sake of her and Sumire’s friendship. Forget that every time she pushed him away, he still found a way back into her orbit like he belonged there.
Sarada exhaled sharply but leaned forward, taking the bite. She chewed carefully, trying to ignore the way her face definitely felt a little warmer.
Boruto smiled. “See? Not hard.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, taking another slow sip of her drink, her fingers tapping lightly against the glass as her mind drifted back to what Mitsuki had said earlier.
She wasn’t going to ask. She really wasn’t. But the words slipped out before she could stop them.
“You were gone for a while," she asked, trying not to sound like a weird-jealous girlfriend, which, in fact, she is not.
He glanced at her with a blank expression. “Yeah?”
Sarada swirled the drink in her hand, avoiding his gaze. “Mitsuki said you were talking to someone... a pretty girl.”
Boruto raised an eyebrow, now clearly amused with the way she acted. “You keeping tabs on me, Sarada?”
Her grip on the glass tightened slightly. “It was just a passing comment,” she muttered, tilting her head to the side, pretending to be more focused on her drink than his reaction. “Who was she?”
Boruto exhaled through his nose. An annoying smile was playing on his lips. “A Suna kunoichi. She wanted to ask about Konoha— y'know, the usual small talk.”
Sarada nodded slowly, forcing herself to keep her expression neutral. “Must’ve been interesting, then. Since it took you so long.”
Boruto studied her for a moment before his smirk deepened. “Oh?” His voice dipped slightly, lazy amusement lacing his words. “Are you jealous, Sarada?”
She scoffed immediately, finally looking up to glare at him. “Of course NOT!” Sarada prayed that she would not sound so denial with her answer.
HE chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Mmm. Sounds like something someone jealous would say.”
She rolled her eyes and picked up a piece of food from the plate he had brought her just to have something to do. “I was just making conversation. That's all,” she muttered, biting down a little harder than necessary.
Boruto leaned in ever so slightly, his arm still stretched over the couch, his fingers brushing against her shoulder now. Sarada refused to give him the satisfaction of looking at him. He let the silence linger for a moment before chuckling to himself. Then, with a gentle nudge on her shoulder, he leaned forward in her direction until his lips were just barely brushing against the shell of her ear.
"Don’t worry..." She felt all of her hair behind her neck stand as her heart hammered inside her ribs. "You’re still the pretiest kunoichi in my eyes and heart, Sarada."
Boruto pulled back just enough to glance at her face, his smirk widening at whatever he saw there. Looking at her with a smug and seemed like fully enteratineded, making it only worse in Sarada's part.
She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to act normal, to not give him the reaction he was clearly fishing for. But it was useless. Her entire body felt like it was on fire! A rush of heat exploded in her chest, creeping up her neck, burning her ears. Her fingers twitched around her fork. And for a moment, her brain went completely blank as his words keep reaping over and over again like a broken music plaque.
“I—” She cleared her throat, gripping her chopsticks tightly it was a miracle it didn’t snap in half. “Eat your food, too!” she muttered stiffly. WIth a scrowl, she stab a piece of her own meal just to distract herself.
Boruto blinked, momentarily surprised, before a muffled chuckle escaped him before leaning forward to take a bite, lips closing around it. Then, just to make it worse, he leaned back slowly as his lone blue eye locked onto hers, his smirk never once fading.
Sarada felt her stomach flip.
“Tch. Idiot,” she muttered, yanking her chopsticks and looking away, anywhere but at the stupid, smug, infuriatingly attractive look he was giving her.
Boruto swallowed, then chuckled again, watching her so tenderly without her notice. “Not bad,” he mused, his tone dripping with amusement. “You should feed me more often.”
Sarada almost smacked him with her napkin.
From across the table, Mitsuki leaned into his seat, golden eyes glinting with way too much amusement. "Just tell me that you two are dating. I wouldn't even get mad for not telling me."
Sarada choked slightly, while Boruto was completely unaffected and just shrugged. "I think that would be a great idea." Then, before she could even process what he just said, he lowered his head slightly so their eyes met. “What do you think, Sarada?”
Panic set in immediately in her chest, and without thinking, she grabbed all the food on her plate and shoved it into her mouth at once, effectively blocking herself from having to answer.
…Which, in hindsight, was a terrible idea. Because now she couldn’t breathe.
Her face turned slightly red as she coughed violently, struggling to swallow, and before she could even attempt to fix it, she felt a warm, firm hand on her back.
Boruto sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed gentle circles between her shoulder blades. “Damn, Sarada,” he muttered, his tone somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Didn’t know the idea of dating me was that overwhelming.”
She glared at him between coughs, but before she could even think of a retort, he was already offering her drink, holding it up to her lips without hesitation.
“Here,” he said simply and tucked a stray strand of her hair. His fingers barely brushed against her skin, but its softness sent her brain into a complete shutdown.
And that makes everything totally worse. Not helping at all! Still flustered, she grabbed the drink and took a sip, letting the cool liquid soothe her throat.
Mitsuki chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Sarada groaned, wishing the floor would swallow her whole. Swallowing the last bit of her food, she looked at the two with a glare that could cut. "Would you two stop teasing me?!"
Mitsuki smiled knowingly, and Boruto, on the other hand, acted like nothing had happened. He leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms lazily over the backrest, looking completely at ease like he hadn’t just casually suggested they should date in front of everyone.
Sarada exhaled, gripping her drink a little tighter as she finally dared to glance at Eizan.
His expression was subtle, but she noticed how his expression soured with their exchange. He was tapping his fingers on the table as his jaw clenched. His eyes lingered for a second too long before flicking away to Yodo for a conversation.
As the conversation carried on around them, Boruto stayed comfortably close to Sarada. He didn’t speak much, just listening and occasionally tilting his head slightly as their friends talked. At some point, without even realizing when it happened, Sarada had leaned against him. Her back pressed lightly against his arm, and when she didn’t move away, neither did he. It wasn’t intentional, at least; that’s what she told herself
Not so long, Araya finally returned, carrying a tray of drinks with a triumphant grin. “Alright, time to really start the night.”
He set the glasses down, passing them around. The scent of alcohol was strong. Even Yodo, who usually had something to say about his habits, didn’t bother stopping him this time.
Sarada sighed, watching as the others took their drinks. She wasn’t particularly interested, she had enough to deal with already, but Boruto, to her mild surprise, took a glass without hesitation.
He lifted the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip, his fingers wrapped loosely around the rim. Sarada found herself watching—not on purpose, just… noticing. The way his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed, the slight tilt of his head, the way the low lights cast sharp shadows along the angles of his jaw.
It was a stupidly unfair sight, and Sarada hated that she even noticed.
"Slow down, Boruto. You don't know what would happen to your body when alcohol was all over your system," she warned with concern, pertaining to Momoshiki. She didn’t need to elaborate. They both knew what she meant.
Boruto set the glass down, exhaling quietly before shifting slightly toward her. Without thinking about the people around them, he reached out and gently rested a hand against her knee. His palm was warm and big, and his fingers rested lightly against the fabric of her dress, tracing slow, lazy circles absentmindedly.
He just met her gaze. "You worry too much,” he murmured. “It’s just one shot.”
He reached out for something on the table, a small dessert that Araya brought along. It was one of the ones she had been eyeing earlier but hadn’t taken. Without a word, he picked up a bite-sized piece and held it up to her lips.
Sarada blinked. “Boruto—”
"Just try it, Sarada," he cut her off, looking at her with that deep blue gaze, making Sarada's throat go dry.
She hesitated, then sighed before leaning in and taking a small bite. The sweetness melted on her tongue, and it was actually so good. In fact, she wants more.
Boruto chuckled, setting the rest of the dessert down before brushing his thumb over the corner of her lip. “You always make that face when something’s better than you expected.”
His thumb lingered for a second too long before he finally pulled away, reaching for his drink like nothing had happened.
Sarada’s breath hitched. Oh, gods. How exactly am I supposed to avoid this man when he acted this way?
Araya called her name, making her attention drift away from Boruto's face.
"Yeah?" she asked, looking at Araya.
He leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye as he slid a drink toward her. “C’mon, Sarada. One drink won’t kill you.”
Sarada shook her head immediately. “No thanks.”
Araya groaned. “Ugh, you’re such a buzzkill.”
“I’m responsible,” she corrected, crossing her arms.
Yodo smirked. “Same thing.”
Just as Sarada was about to shut the idea down completely, a voice beside her made her pause.
“Go on.” She turned, only to find Boruto watching her with a serious expression. “I’ll take care of you if you passed out.”
She knew she should say no. She wasn’t reckless. She wasn’t the type to lose control. But with Boruto on her side, she felt at ease. Sarada trusted this man. Next to her parents, Uzumaki, yes, Uzumaki Boruto was the only person in this world she trusted the most. If she was going to let loose, even just a little, there was no one else she’d rather have watching her back.
And vice versa, if he needed someone, Boruto knew she would always be behind him, ready to support him.
They held their gaze for a long moment before Sarada rolled her eyes. She lost. “…Fine,” she muttered, exhaling. “Just one.”
Araya whooped in victory, passing her the drink, while Yodo and Mitsuki exchanged amused glances. Eizan just chuckled, swirling his own drink.
Sarada took her first sip.
And then another.
Another...
Another...
And then— Sarada had stopped counting. She wasn't sure how many bottles she emptied. All that mattered was she was having fun.
The warmth spread through her limbs, slow at first but then all at once, drowning out the weight she had been carrying in her chest for weeks. It wasn’t long before her world shifted. The colors around them deepened and swirled around her, the music pulsed through her, and her body felt lighter than it had in a long, long time.
At some point, she had kicked off her sandals and pulled Yodo into a ridiculous fit of laughter over something and neither of them remembered what. Araya had nearly fallen over trying to teach Mitsuki some absurd dance move, and Sarada had laughed so hard she had to physically hold onto Boruto’s shoulder just to stay upright, gasping for air between her fits of laughter.
Gods, when was the last time she laughed like this?
She was not worried about acting so crazy since she could feel Boruto’s presence beside her the entire time, occasionally chuckling as he watched them be crazy.
There comes a music that made her body want to move. It vibrated through the air, into her bones, sending a surge of adrenaline through her already spinning mind.
And so, without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his hand. Boruto barely had a second to react before Sarada pulled him toward the dance floor. He let out a small noise of surprise, but he didn’t resist, not even a little. His fingers curled instinctively around hers, guiding her just as much as she was guiding him.
The loud music continued to play, almost deafening. And the moment they reached the center of the crowd, Sarada let go of his hand, raising her arms slightly as she swayed to the rhythm.
Sarada felt free in a way she hadn’t in so long, and for once, she didn’t overthink it. She just moved and danced.
Boruto just watched for a second, stunned and unsure of what to do. Then, with a small smirk, he joined her. And damn. Sarada had seen him fight countless times, had watched the way his body moved in battle; powerful, fluid, and precise, but this?
The way he danced, how effortlessly he found the rhythm, how naturally his body responded to the beat??? It was sooo good to the point Sarada was asking herself why the hell he chose to be a ninja in the first place when he could apply to be Konoha's Idol. That would totally fit him.
He stepped closer, just enough without crowding her, and matched her movement easily. Every step, every shift of his weight, every casual roll of his shoulders blended perfectly with the rhythm, making it look like he had been born for this.
Sarada laughed, realizing she had never seen him dance before She let out a breathless laugh, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t know you could dance.”
Boruto grinned, rolling his shoulders back as he shifted closer. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Sarada.”
Her pulse stumbled. The lights flickered above them, shifting different colors across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the curve of his smirk. The bass was pounding, but all she could hear was the steady thrum of her own heartbeat.
Sarada almost lost her footing when he reached out and skimmed his hand on the side of her waist. She swallowed HARD, her skin tingling where he touched her. But she didn’t move away.
So he did it again. His other hand brushed against her waist this time, guiding her just slightly as their movements fell in sync.
Boruto dipped his head slightly, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, “You’re staring, Sarada.”
Her stomach flipped. She didn’t even realize she had been staring. She sucked in a sharp breath, her movements faltering for just a second. Boruto chuckled lowly, his fingers squeezing her waist just briefly before letting go.
"Let's go—"
Boruto barely got the words out before Sarada grabbed his hand back, and before she even registered what she was doing...
She kissed him.
The world around them, the music, the people, the dazzling lights, everything, blurred into nothing. There was only him. Only the heat of his skin, his scent mingling with the smoke everywhere, and the fast beat of his heart beating loudly against the hand resting on his chest.
His lips were warm, slightly parted in shock, and completely still against hers. His lone blue eyes stared directly at her, frozen and stunned into absolute silence.
Reality crashed into her. Her heart lurched as she realized what she had just done. What she was doing.
For a brief moment, Sarada felt the urge to pull away, to let the kiss dissolve like a passing dream. But before she could, his grip tightened around her waist, and Boruto deepened the kiss. Sarada let out a small gasp as his lips moved against hers with an intensity that startled her as if he were reclaiming every moment they’d ever shared.
His hand, which had been resting on her waist, slid up slowly and caressed her exposed back until it found the side of her neck. His thumb brushed against her jaw like he was memorizing every shape of her.
The delicate pressure of his fingertips sent shivers racing along her spine, igniting a fire that was both unexpected and all-consuming.
And gods! The way he kissed her felt like he meant it like he had been holding back for so long. It made her legs weak, made her fists tighten against his chest, and made the whole damn world tilt beneath her feet.
Boruto exhaled through his nose, his breath mingling with hers as he angled his lips against hers again as if once wasn’t nearly enough, transforming the crowded around them into nothing where only their heartbeat and their shared warmth existed.
In that moment, every sensation, every taste, every touch, every sound melded into a single, overwhelming experience. And as Boruto’s kiss deepened further, Sarada closed her eyes, surrendering to the exquisite intensity of it all, letting the world slip away into nothingness.
Notes:
kudos and comments are much appreciated! tysm
Chapter 4: Boruto
Summary:
Under the silver glow of the moon, her Mangekyo Sharingan gleamed like molten fire with its eight sharp triangles, forming the shape of a sun. It was hypnotic, dangerous, and breathtaking all at once.
"You asked me what happened to my eyes?... You happened, baka-Boruto.”
Borusara week Day 2: Eyes
Notes:
My bad for posting this late. I’ve been working night shifts straight, and by the time I get home, I just shower and head straight to bed. But here we are!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Boruto’s face was so red it was a miracle he hadn’t burst into flames. No matter how hard he tried to shake it off, the memory of their kiss kept replaying in his mind over and over and over again. The way her lips had felt, the way she had pulled him in without hesitation, the way he had completely lost himself in her.
What the hell was that?
He rubbed a hand over his burning face, groaning inwardly. Get it together, man. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He had been through hell and back and had faced things most people couldn’t even imagine. He had learned how to stay calm under pressure and how to keep his emotions in check no matter what was thrown his way. But here he was, sitting stiffly in a cheap convenience store, spiraling over a kiss.
Pathetic! I should've controlled myself...
Through his mental suffering, Boruto felt something cold pressed against his lips. He snapped out of his thoughts, startled, and turned to his side, only to find Sarada grinning up at him, her cheeks flushed, eyes hazy, and in her hand.... was a popsicle he had bought earlier.
“Haaaavvvveee some, Boruto,” she slurred, giggling as she had just told the funniest joke in the world. “Hihihihi~”
He just stared at her. Oh, right. This was his life now.
He exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand down his face as he glanced around. They were still sitting outside the small convenience store, a bright neon sign flickering above them. After that mind-blowing, sanity-destroying kiss, Boruto immediately grabbed Sarada by the wrist and dragged her out of that damn party.
She had been too drunk, too reckless, and if she had kept going like that, she would’ve done something even worse... something they really wouldn’t be able to take back.
So, in a desperate attempt to sober her up, he had marched her straight into the nearest convenience store, bought her water, snacks, and a damn popsicle, and plopped her down on the curb of the road. And now, here she was, feeding him like he was some kind of pet.
Boruto sighed, his head already pounding. This was going to be a long night. “Sarada…”
“Shhhhh,” she hushed him dramatically, wiggling the popsicle closer to his mouth. “Jus’ take a bite, ‘kay?”
Boruto hesitated, eyeing her warily. He had never seen her drunk before, and this was a whole new level of danger. Still… the way she was looking at him, all expectant and weirdly adorable, made him sigh in defeat.
“…Fine.” He leaned in, taking a small bite of the popsicle, the cold instantly numbing his lips.
Sarada gasped, looking at him like he had just accepted the greatest gift in the world. “Yayyy~!”
Boruto shook his head, chewing slowly as he watched Sarada happily swing her body side to side, completely unbothered by the fact that she had just flipped his entire world upside down with that damn kiss a while ago. Meanwhile, he was sitting here, suffering. She was going to forget that kiss by morning, wasn’t she?
She let out a satisfied hum, licking her popsicle. “Borutooo~” she sang, turning to him with a sleepy smile. “You’re soooo serious.”
Boruto ran a hand through his hair, barely resisting the urge to groan. “That’s because I have to be. You’re drunk out of your mind.”
Sarada pouted. “M’not that drunk.”
He gave her a deadpan look. “You kissed me in the middle of a party.”
Sarada blinked. Then, after a long pause, she let out a slow, breathy “Ohhh....”
He raised an eyebrow. “You remember that?”
She tilted her head, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of her dress. Boruto immediately fixed it when her leg was almost exposed to god-knows who.
“Mmm… kinda?” Then, she gave him an exaggerated grin, her eyes barely open from her drunkness. “I do remember you liking it, though. Hihihihi~”
Boruto choked on air. His entire face flared red even more. “I—You—” He clenched his jaw, dragging a hand down his face. “For the love of—” He only managed to swallow hard, forcing himself to focus. She’s drunk. She doesn’t mean it. Do not fall for this. Do NOT fall for this, Boruto!!
Boruto tried so hard to keep a straight face, but the second she snorted mid-hihihi, it was over.
"Saradaaaa," he groaned, pressing his forehead against his palm in pure suffering.
Sarada giggled, completely enjoying his misery. “Ohhh my goood, you did like it,” she teased, leaning in closer, her voice dropping into a playful whisper. “Was it that good, Borutooo?”
Boruto refused to answer. Absolutely not! Instead, he snatched the popsicle out of her hand and took a big bite, ignoring the way she gasped dramatically.
“Hey! Thass’ mine!” she whined, grabbing at his arm, but Boruto just leaned away, chewing slowly as he let the cold hopefully cool him down.
“Consider it payment for the hell you’re putting me through,” he muttered, giving back the haft popsicle to her hand.
Sarada huffed but didn’t argue, instead resting her head against his shoulder with a sigh. "Bouto, I'm sleepyyyy."
He stiffened instantly. He should move. He really should. But something inside him wouldn’t let him, and damn it, he was too exhausted to fight it anymore. So, he let himself relax, the tension in his shoulders slowly unraveling as he let her weight settle against him. She was warm, and her scent, something faintly floral, curled around him like a lullaby.
Boruto hesitated, then so carefully, almost hesitant, tilted his head just slightly, just enough that the tips of his hair brushed against hers.
“…You’re gonna regret this when you wake up,” he murmured, his voice softer now.
Sarada hummed sleepily, eyes fluttering shut. “Maybe.”
A long silence settles between them. Boruto glanced at Sarada just in time to see her eyelids drooping, her head bobbing slightly as she fought a losing battle against sleep. She swayed a little, her grip on the now half-melted popsicle going slack.
Boruto sighed, shaking his head with a small, amused smile. Tch. She’s hopeless. Her body tilted slightly to the side, and before she could faceplant onto the pavement, Boruto moved and slipped an arm behind her back and held her shoulder firmly.
“Sarada,” he started, lightly nudging her arm. "Come on, I’m taking you back to your place.”
She made a soft, sleepy sound in response to a tiny gasp before she instinctively curled into him, her arms loosely wrapping around his torso as she snuggled against his neck.
Boruto froze. For a second, he forgot how to breathe to the feeling of the heat of her cheek against his skin, the way her breath fanned softly against his collarbone despite the clothes in between. What the hell was she doing to him?
“Wha—” she mumbled, already closing her eyes.
“Sarada,” he tried again, his voice lowering and softer. "Let's go to your place, yeah?”
She blinked up at him, her lashes fluttering, dazed and barely conscious. “Back where?” she mumbled.
“Your place,” Boruto said patiently, shifting his grip on her. “The inn... where you’re supposed to be sleeping.”
Sarada hummed again, her fingers loosely gripping the fabric of his clothes. “…’Course, my place...” she slurred, nuzzling closer like she belonged there.
Boruto clenched his jaw, fighting back the ridiculous urge to just sit there and hold her forever. Instead, he exhaled slowly, adjusting his grip and scooping her up into his arms before she could protest.
Her only response was a soft sigh, her head resting against his chest, completely content. Boruto chuckled, shaking his head as he began to walk.
The streets were almost quiet at this hour, except for a few couples walking side by side while holding each other's hand, enjoying their moment. Above them, the full moon hung large and luminous, bathing the sand-covered roads in a soft, silver glow.
Boruto walked at a slow pace as Sarada tucked securely in his arms, her head resting against his chest. The cool night breeze rustled through her hair, and every now and then, she would shift slightly as her fingers curled into him.
Sarada mumbled incoherently for Boruto to understand against his chest before letting out a long sigh. “Mmm… Boruto?”
“Hm?”
She blinked blearily up at him, eyes hazy with sleep. “Do fish get thirsty?”
Boruto nearly tripped. “What?! You're seriously asking me that question?” he sputtered, looking down at her like she’d just asked him to recite the entire history of the shinobi world.
Sarada pouted slightly. “It’s a serious question… just answer me, stupid.”
Boruto bit the inside of his cheek, fighting the laugh that threatened to escape. “Uh… no? I don’t think so?”
“Hmmm,” she hummed thoughtfully, eyes drifting closed again and snuggling back, now closer to his neck.
For the following minutes, she remained silent and still as her breath became slow and steady. Boruto figured she had finally dozed off, but then, out of the blue, she lifted her head and stared directly at Boruto. Making him jerk his head off back in surprise.
"Jesus— you scared the shit our of me, Sarada!! Don't do that again!!" he yelled to the drunkard girl, almost making the other couple walking through the street snap their head in their direction.
"Why do we call it ‘fast asleep’ if sleep isn’t fast at all?"
"....Saradaaaa," he whined, completely done with her antics.
“What?” she huffed sleepily, looking at him with confused eyes. “It doesn’t make sense…”
“I think you don’t make sense right now,” he teased, adjusting his grip on her as he walked.
She groaned softly but didn’t argue, settling against him once more.
They continued walking in silence, the sound of his footsteps against the sandy road the only thing filling the space between them. The moonlight cast long shadows, stretching across the almost empty streets, the world around them still and peaceful.
Then, just when Boruto thought she had finally fallen asleep—
“…Why didn’t you contact me, Boruto?”
Boruto’s steps faltered. Sarada’s voice was so faint he almost convinced himself he had imagined it. But when he glanced down, she was fully awake, and her face was turned away from him, her fingers gripping his jacket just a little tighter. His throat suddenly tightened.
“I waited,” she murmured, her words barely above a breath. “For days… weeks… months. Three years, Boruto."
Sarada let out a quiet laugh, but it was empty and broken, which made his stomach twist. “There were nights where I thought I’d never see you again.”
Boruto swallowed hard, unable to answer. Because what could he say? That he wanted to contact her but didn’t know how? That every time he thought about reaching out, something stopped him, whether it was fear, guilt, or the knowledge that his very existence put her in danger? That he had spent every night thinking about her just as much as she had been waiting for him?
Instead, all he could do was hold her closer and continue walking, as if that alone could make up for the years of silence.
She huffed, shaking her head. "And you're not answering me again as usual."
His fingers twitched against the fabric of her dress as he held her just a little tighter and swallowed the lump in his throat. “…I wanted to.”
Sarada didn’t move, but he felt her turned rigid on her grasp.
“I wanted to write you a witter,” he admitted. “I wanted to tell you everything. Where I was, what I was doing, and that I wasn’t dead and surviving... well barely.” His grip on her unconsciously tightened as he laughed. His gaze was no longer fixed on her, lost in the moonlit streets ahead.
“But I—”
His voice caught in his throat. He didn’t know how. Because every time he thought about reaching out, Koji’s words came back to him, suffocating him like a curse.
"If you keep interrupting the flow of things, they will shift in ways you can’t predict. The moment you reach out, the people closest to your heart will be the first ones affected. And trust me, boy, you won’t like how that plays out."
Boruto had wanted to ignore him. Had desperately wanted to say, 'screw fate, screw prophecy.' He had spent his whole life fighting against things people said were set in stone. But he knew Koji… Koji could see the future.
And when he said they would be the first ones affected, Boruto knew exactly who he meant. His sister, Himawari, who had already lost too much, and Sarada, who had already suffered because of him.
If he had written to her, if he had selfishly pulled her into his world when he wasn’t ready to face the consequences—he would lose her, too, and Boruto couldn't afford to experience that. He would die with that.
Boruto closed his eyes, inhaling sharply. "I couldn't..."
Sarada, still drowsy, barely lifted her head. “…why?” she murmured.
Boruto hesitated. Because if I had… you would’ve come for me. Sarada would have still chosen him, even if it meant tearing her world apart even further. And he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let her ruin her life any more than she already had for him.
“I don’t know.” It was the only thing he could force out. The only answer that wasn’t a lie.
Sarada didn’t respond right away. She just sighed softly and turned her head against his chest as if listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“…I never stopped waiting.”
“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, pressing his lips against her silky hair.
“…You better be,” she murmured before finally letting sleep take her.
He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling deeply.
Boruto exhaled sharply, adjusting his hold on Sarada as they finally reached the front door of her inn. She was still nestled against his chest, half-asleep, completely oblivious to the problem they were about to face.
He shook her gently. “Sarada… where are your keys?”
“Mmm?” she hummed, barely lifting her head.
“Your keys,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I need them to open your door.”
Sarada blinked blearily at him before her lips curled into a lazy, sleepy smile. “Oh! I remember now!”
Boruto let out a relieved sigh. "Great. Where are they?"
“…I gave them to Yodo when we were talking.” She simply giggled, nuzzling back into his neck
His relief shattered instantly. “You what?!”
Boruto groaned, stumping his feet on the ground in frustration. Of course, she did. And, of course, he couldn't just ask Yodo since she was currently unconscious in her own room, thanks to Mitsuki and Araya, who had dragged her away after she had downed one too many shots. That meant no keys for them and no way to get inside without causing a scene.
He turned, scanning the inn’s exterior with thinning patience. Maybe there was a small opening or anything that he could slip through— NOPE! Every window was locked. Every possible space was way too tiny for him to squeeze into.
His gaze flickered up toward the terrace. If I climb up and force the sliding door open… He immediately dismissed the thought. Because of him, where half of the world already thought he was a criminal breaking into a room at this hour ?? Yeah. Not happening.
Boruto groaned again, shifting his weight as Sarada sighed contently against him, completely unaware of the absolute mess she had put them in.
This was his fault. He should’ve never let her drink. He had assumed, naively, that she would take three shots, max. Just enough to let loose, maybe laugh a little more than usual with their friends, but still keep herself together. But a whole bottle? Multiple bottles?!
He had been bewildered. Dumbfounded. Maybe even borderline horrified as he watched her down drink after drink, completely unbothered, her discipline tossed aside like it had never existed in the first place.
Boruto let out a deep sigh countless times, shifting to his feet as he adjusted his grip on sleeping Sarada. He made up his mind. There's no other choice.
Without another second of hesitation, he turned on his heel and started toward his own inn, which, thankfully, was only a street away. He looked down at Sarada, who just hummed sleepily in his arms, completely clueless to the fact that she was about to step into his space.
By the time they reached his door, Boruto barely had the patience to fumble for the key in his pocket. He shifted her in his arms, cursing under his breath as he unlocked the door and kicked it open.
The moment they stepped inside, something in the air shifted.
The dim lighting of his room cast soft shadows across the space as the faint sound outside filtering in through the closed windows. His scent filled the air around him, and Sarada, in her barely conscious state, responded to it instinctively.
She nuzzled into his neck, her breath warm against his skin. "Mmm… smells nice…"
Suddenly, his room felt smaller and warmer that he didn't have the energy to fight off. Boruto froze, his blue lone eye widening in shock, unable to utter a single word. She’s drunk, he keeps reminding himself. She doesn’t mean it.
"Let's get you to bed."
Swallowing hard, he marched to his bed, and gently placed her down, only for her grip to tighten against his clothes and pull him closer to her face.
"Please stay, Boruto..." she muttered, staring up, half-lidded, dark as the midnight sky that always shook him to his core. Her long, fine lashes fluttered slightly, casting faint shadows against her flushed cheeks.
They were so close that he could see her pupils dilated as she gazed at his face up and down and, lastly, at his lips. They are close enough that he could make out the gentle rise and fall of her carotid pulse, visible just beneath her smooth skin.
His brain had been running on overdrive ever since she kissed him on the dance floor, and now this close proximity?
Boruto clenched his jaw, his hands curling into the sheet at her sides. "I will... let me just change my outside clothes," he said in a strained voice.
He pried her hands off him, ignoring the way her fingers clung just a little, and pushed himself off the bed with more force than necessary. Calm down, he told himself as he marched to the bathroom. Just change and sleep. She’ll pass out soon enough—
His thoughts were coming to an end when something soft just smacked him in the back of the head. What the hell—? Boruto abruptly stopped and turned around, brows meeting in confusion, but the second his gaze landed on Sarada, his entire soul left his body and never came back.
Sarada, now fully awake, was sitting on the bed where she was barely dressed. Her dress was discarded somewhere on the floor, her pale skin exposed to the dim moonlight spilling in from the window.
His entire face erupted in red as he quickly averted his gaze. Out of a sudden, the plain white ceiling was actually a nice view to look at. He should do that often, yeah?!
“S-Sarada!! What the hell are you d-doing?!!” His voice cracked, but he would rather die than acknowledge that.
Sarada blinked at him, completely unbothered and unaware on the scene she was participating. “It’s hot in here!! Do you have any air conditioning??”
Oh, for the love of—
Of all the places the Suna council had offered him to stay, he had stubbornly chosen the cheapest, smallest, shittiest room he could find because the last thing he wanted was for them to think he was some entitled brat, walking into their village like he deserved luxury after being a literal terrorist. And now, thanks to his own damn pride, he had no air conditioning and a half-naked Sarada in his bed.
“I have none!!!” Boruto practically yelled, his back turning so fast that his neck nearly snapped. “L-let me just open the windows for you! Just—just don’t keep stripping, for gods’ sake!!!”
Still keeping his back to her, he shuffled towards the window in the most awkward, crab-like motion or walking or whatever it is known to mankind. Don’t look. Don’t think. Just open the damn window. You have seen NOTHING! Lalalalala∼∼∼
When he finally reached the window, Boruto flung it open with far more force than necessary, the cool desert night air rushing in. His fingers gripped the sill so hard his knuckles turned white.
Boruto wanted to die. Right here. Right now. His brain was melting. His sanity was barely hanging by a thread. Why the hell did she do that in a man’s room?!
"W-was this fine?? Or should I Gale Palm you?! Let’s see if you manage that much of air!!” He tried to joke the situation, but his voice cracked again, feeling actual shame.
"Mmm, it’s fine now." She hummed.
Boruto exhaled like he had just survived death itself. "G-Good! Now… are you still n-naked, Sarada?!"
"Mmm, I am!"
Boruto wanted to kill himself on the spot.
"WELL, YOU SHOULDN’T BE, SARADA!!!" His voice went up two octaves, pure hysteria leaking into his words. “There’s a blanket near you, use that and cover yourself!”
"Caaaan’t,” she slurred, and he could hear and imagine the pout in her voice. “Every time I open my eyes, my world keeps spinning. I might throw up…”
"HOLD IT!!!" Boruto barked, panic seizing his chest. “Just—just wait, let me cover you!”
He squeezed his eyes shut like his life depended on it, turned around, and marched toward Sarada’s side with his hands blindly stretched out in front of him like a damn zombie. His fingers brushed something warm and soft skin and recoiled so hard he almost tripped over his own feet.
"SHIT—SORRY—"
Okay. That was just her foot. It was fine; there is no need to be dramatic, Boruto. He could handle this. Deep breath. Focus.
He kept feeling around, his hands ghosting over the sheets, until—YES! Blanket acquired!
With one swift motion, he snapped it up and flung it over her body like he was performing an exorcism.
"Have I covered your entire body?!" he demanded, eyes still firmly shut.
"Yes."
Boruto finally cracked one eye open, cautiously peeking at Sarada, only to breathe out a sigh of relief. Thank the gods; she is appropriately covered now.
Still, something inside him itched with the need to make sure she was comfortable and decent. So, with gentle movements, he adjusted the blanket, tucking it snugly around her like a perfect little burrito. He even smoothed the edges near her shoulders, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric as he settled her in.
She playfully peeked her one eye out and hummed, her hand slipping out from beneath the blanket, and reached for him. Boruto stiffened the moment her fingers found his face, the warmth of her touch sending a shiver down his spine.
She traced the marking on his cheek in a gentle and reverent touch, as if she had done this a thousand times in her head but never dared to in reality.
"Boruto…" she mumbled.
He swallowed hard, unsure why his throat suddenly felt tight. "Y-Yeah?" he asked, watching her through heavy lashes.
Her brows furrowed slightly, her fingers lingering against his skin. "You wanna throw up? Just tell me, and I’ll bring you to the bathroom," he hurriedly added, desperate to fill the silence.
Sarada blinked at him slowly, her lips parting in quiet disbelief before she let out a breathless, drunken laugh. "Stupid..." she murmured, shaking her head. "That’s not what I... was going to say."
His heart beat hard against his ribs as she stared at him, her Mangekyo Sharingan gleaming like molten fire with its eight sharp triangles, forming the shape of a sun. The pattern glowed subtly under the moonlight filtering through the window, making her gaze even more captivating, like a celestial body burning just for him. It was hypnotic, dangerous, and breathtaking all at once.
Boruto felt rooted in place, utterly mesmerized. The last time he had seen her Sharingan, it had only held the three simple tomoe. But now... now it had evolved into something far beyond.
"Sarada... w-what happened to your eyes?" he asked, softer now.
She ignored his question and just let out a tiny, breathy giggle, her fingers clumsily tracing his whiskers. Her touch was warm, a little wobbly, but so, so gentle.
“Borutooo…” she slurred, blinking at him slowly, struggling to keep her eyes open. “Did’ja know? I’ve always—... always been lookin’ at you.” She swallowed, her lips twitching into the smallest, bittersweet smile.
Boruto stiffened, his heartbeat suddenly hammering in his ears. He knew how this thing would end up.
“Since we were lil’ kids,” she went on, her words tumbling together in a soft, dreamy haze. “Even when ya were just a loud… stupid… dumbass.” She giggled again, her nose scrunching slightly. “Even when ya ran ‘head without lookin’ back… I was always... watchin’ you. Waitin’.”
Sarada sighed, her fingers slipping from his cheek for a moment before she clumsily patted at his jaw again. “But then… ya left,” she mumbled, her voice wobbling. “And I waited. I waited sooooo long, Boruto…” She blinked with her glassy and unfocused. “There were nights where I thought... I never, ever see ya again."
Boruto felt like something inside him was caving in. And then her lips parted again, and her next words hit him like a sucker punch straight to the gut.
“You asked me what happened to my eyes?” She let out a breathy little hiccup, her fingers weakly curling into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him just a little bit closer. “You happened…”
“You happened, baka-Boruto.”
Notes:
i'm gonna give u all smthing to giggle about, bcs next chapter, there will be none. kiddiiinnggg hehehee
Chapter 5: Sarada
Summary:
Waking up after being so drunk, Sarada discovers something she would regret forever.
"No matter where I go… no matter how long I’m gone…” His fingers curled just a little tighter, bringing her closer to his body.
"I’ll always crawl back to you, Sarada."
Borusara week Day 3: Jacket
Notes:
Kidding, there was no angst for this chapter.
Also, thank you for the 200+ kudos you all left for me. I actually did not believe this story would reach this many Kudos since it has been stagnant for quite a while.
Anyway, this seems to be my longest chapter so far, so have fun reading it hehe
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sarada stirred, her eyelids fluttering open as a dull throbbing pulsed behind her temples. Sleep still clung to her limbs, her body sinking into the soft sheets beneath her. A frown creased her brow as she slowly pushed herself upright, wincing at the faint ache weighing down her senses. The room was dimly lit, bathed in the moon’s pale glow filtering through unfamiliar curtains—
W-Wait.. unfamiliar?? Her heart skipped. This... this wasn’t her inn. This wasn't her room!!
A jolt of panic coursed through her, snapping her into full awareness. Her gaze darted around, scanning the dimly lit space, her mind scrambling to make sense of where she was. The air smelled different, some masculine that clearly doesn't belong to her
Her fingers clenched around the sheets, and it was only then that she noticed—her eyes widened as they flicked downward. Beneath the thin covers, her body was clothed in nothing but her undergarments. Her off-shoulder dress she had worn at the party was nowhere to be seen.
Her stomach dropped. and panic struck her straight to her heart like a flash of lightning, hugging her naked body as thousands of possible scenarios crashed into her at once. What the hell happened last night? Have I—? N-No, no, no. This is not possible. The mere thought of it makes Sarada want to kill herself.
She squeezed her eyes shut, hands flying to her head as she gripped her temples before her fingers threaded through her hair. She shook her head rapidly as if trying to physically rid herself of the thought. No. There’s no way. There's no way.
Suddenly, in the middle of her mental breakdown, Sarada heard a faint sound of water splashing against the tile, filling the silence, a sign that there was someone in there. Her head snapped to the bathroom door with a glare that could kill anyone straight.
She instantly stood up to her feet, clutching the sheet tighter around herself. The pounding in her head was now secondary to the sheer panic flooding her system. Her entire body was on high alert, nerves alight as the sound of running water from the bathroom continued. The soft splash of the movement against the tile made her fists clench tighter as she prepared to attack for possible harassment once the person went out.
‘Try me, and I will KILL you!’ her mind snarled, already preparing for the worst.
Her breath came quicker as she clutched her fist tighter, her mind racing to remember what happened before she went here. Fragments of the evening flickered in and out like a distorted dream. The pulsing music, the heat of the dance floor, her dragging Boruto into the crowd for a dance, spinning, laughing, and the drinks—so many drinks.
Boruto...
His hands that had guided her movements, the teasing lilt in his voice, the heat between them as they danced too close, his breath ghosting against her skin.
And then…
The kiss.
Oh my god.
Her pulse spiked as the memory came rushing back in vivid detail, the way she had grabbed him, the way his lips had pressed back against hers with an urgency that sent her world spinning. The way his hands had held her firmly, as if afraid to let go.
But after that? What... happened?? After that... after that... wait, what happened after that?!
Everything else was a blur. Sarada couldn't remember anything! Was she in his room? Did he bring her here? And more importantly, did something else happen between them?
Somehow, just knowing that he was the one who had taken care of her made the panic inside her settle, if only a little. Because it was Boruto. And no matter how much he got on her nerves or frustrated her, she knew one thing for certain: he would never do anything to hurt her or put her in danger.
But the problem is.... what if it was not Boruto?
She swallowed hard, her eyes locked on the bathroom door, her body tense as she waited for whoever was inside to step out and give her the answers she desperately needed.
After a few minutes or so, the most awaited, most nerve-wracking moment was about to happen. The handle of the bathroom door turned. Sarada held her breath, her heart hammering in her chest as the door creaked open.
Her breath lodged in her throat as she scrambled backward, pressing herself against the headboard. Eyes darting around the dimly lit room, she calculated her possible escape routes. Window? Too far. Door? Near the bathroom. Weapon? Nearest object— Her hand shot out and grabbed the only thing within reach: a cheap-looking decorative ceramic lamp from the bedside table.
Then, in a dramatic slow motion, the door creaked open. Not even looking at who the person was, Sarada didn’t hesitate, and with a battle cry fueled by pure what-the-actual-hell-is-happening and anger, she launched the lamp with full force.
A loud crash echoed throughout the four corners of the room, followed by a yelp of pure fear.
“THE HELL, SARADA?!”
Her breath stilled, momentarily frozen in place. That voice. The dust of panic in her mind eventually cleared as the familiar figure of Boruto came into view, standing at the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but a towel slung around his perfectly sculptured waist. He was not, in fact, a stranger.
His golden hair was damp, sticking messily to his forehead, and a deep scowl pulled at his lips as he rubbed his shoulder where the lamp had definitely made an impact. Droplets of water clung to his tanned skin, sliding down the sculpted lines of his chest and disappearing beneath the edge of the towel.
Sarada blinked mouth opening, then snapping shut. Her brain went completely blank. She had just thrown a lamp at Boruto... at the haft-naked Boruto! Her throat went dry as she felt her entire face flushed. She should look away, or say something, or whatever! But all she could do was stare and be mezmerized.
Who would have thought this was the body of a boy who used to have a paper-stick body before? What was he eating during his three years away from her?!
"W-What are you doing here?" she asked, finally able to find her voice.
Boruto groaned, rolling his shoulder before glaring at her. “What do you mean? This is my room?" He tilted his head slightly, his lone blue eye glinting as he reached for the towel around his neck to dry his hair. “You’re awake... finally.”
Sarada, still wrapped like a burrito in the sheet, pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Then why the hell am I naked in your place?! What did you do to me, Borutoooo?!” she shrieked.
His lone blue eye widened in sheer panic before he lunged forward in her direction like the wind, hands flying to slam over her mouth to shut her off. However, the momentum was too much. With a startled yelp, they toppled backward onto the bed, Sarada landing flat on her back and Boruto crashing on top of her.
"Shhhhhhhh!!!" he half-whispered, half-panicked, his entire body going rigid. "People are sleeping, dammit!"
Sarada let out a furious, muffled protest against his palm, her eyes blazing with rage as she thrashed beneath him, who was trying to pin her in place. Boruto barely had a second to react before Sararada's knees managed to shoot up him hard right where it hurt.
“GHHH—!! FFFFUUUCC—” Boruto painfully let out a strangled, wheezing gasp from his throat as the pain exploded from that area. With her twisted face turning into something ugly, his grip on Sarada instantly loosened as he curled himself, hands flying to cup his poor, suffering friend.
"GET YOUR HAND OFF ME, YOU PERVERT!!"
Still, with a twisted, ugly face, Boruto looked up in disbelief, his mouth forming an 'O'. What did she call me? A pervert??!! Me??! Pervert??! How dare she after what I suffered from her last night?!
Sarada didn’t waste a second. Seizing the opening, she shoved him off with all her strength. Boruto staggered back with a pained grunt, barely catching himself as she shot up from the bed. He tried to balance himself, but his foot caught on the damn sheet. With a surprised yelp, Boruto went down, yanking the blanket with him, along with Sarada.
A loud and painful sound followed the moment their bodies hit the wooden floor. Their lips barely grazed at each other by the momentum, just the faintest touch at the corner, but it sent electricity through them both. Sarada sucked in a sharp breath, her entire body going rigid. While Boruto froze beneath her, his lone blue eye blown wide, staring straight at her with his pupil dilating.
“B-Boruto…” Sarada whispered, voice barely audible.
Their faces were inches apart. Too close. Way too close. She sucked in a sharp breath, realizing their position at the moment. Oh, no...
Skin against skin. Heat against heat. Sarada was covered in nothing but her undergarments, and Boruto—oh, oh no—Boruto was only wearing a damn towel.
Their positions had reversed. Her thighs were bracketing his waist, her hands flat against his bare, toned chest, while his fingers had instinctively clutched at her waist. The thin blanket tangled around them only added to the mess, trapping them in a heat that had nothing to do with the room’s temperature. The warmth of his skin seeped into hers, and the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch did very dangerous things to her already frazzled brain.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Y-Yeah?…” he rasped, his throat suddenly very dry. He tried to swallow hard. his hands twitching against her waist as if debating whether to let go or hold on tighter.
The heat of her body against him was impossible to ignore, the steady rise and fall of her chest, making every nerve in his body seem to be hyper-aware of the fact that only the thinnest layers of fabric separated them.
But before either of them could process the sheer implications of their situation, an exasperated voice from down the hall shattered the moment.
“For the love of—GO TO SLEEP, YOU TWO!!”
Sarada launched herself off of him as if burned. Boruto flailed, nearly losing his towel in the process. They scrambled to opposite sides of the room, panting, eyes wide, and faces burning.
“U-Uh… you should probably…” Boruto barely had time to process anything before he risked a glance at Sarada—only for their eyes to meet. His breath caught, and he immediately whipped his head away, face burning hotter than ever.
"I-I'll uh... I'll get you something to wear just... just wait," he fumbled, clearing his throat.
Sarada only managed to nod, afraid that if she tried to talk, her voice would come out shaking.
Without another word, he scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself in his rush to get to the small closet in the corner. With shaky hands, he opened the door widely and tore the travel bag open, where his clothes were still stuffed inside.
After rummaging for what felt like an hour, he finally grabbed a pair of clothes that he could find and tossed it to her. Only... it smacked right against Sarada's face. Boruto froze. His soul left his body.
“O-Oh—Oh shit—!”
In a flash, he was kneeling in front of her, hands gently cupping her face as he peeled the clothes away. His fingers instinctively traced over her cheeks, tilting her chin slightly as he scanned for any sign of pain.
"ITell me where it hurt... Did I hit you hard?? Shit, I'm so sorry, Sarada." His voice was softer and full of concern as his lone eye darted all over her face before stopping directly at her eyes. "Sarada?" His thumbs brushed over her skin.
Sarada, momentarily stunned, could only stare at him. Because... because why was he being so gentle right now? And why the hell was his face this close again?! Sarada kept telling her heart to keep quiet every time he was near, but as always, she betrayed her, still hammering against her ribcage.
I—” she stammered, brain malfunctioning.
Boruto’s brows furrowed as he studied her expression. “Did I really hit you too hard?”
“N-No! No, you idiot, I’m fine!” she blurted, abruptly shoving him away with more force than necessary, her face practically on fire.
Desperate to escape his stupidly mesmerizing gaze, Sarada snatched the clothes from his hands and yanked them open... only to immediately regret it. In her hands were Boruto’s very long sleeveless shirt and pink boxer shorts with a tiny, ridiculous chibi frog printed right in the center of the crotch area.
Her eye twitched as her head turned slowly to his direction with a deadly gaze locking onto him.
Boruto gulped. “Uh… so… about that…” let out a very forced chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he instinctively scooted back away from her. “That’s… all I got... Hehe…?”
Her fingers immediately let go of the second item, letting it drop to the floor like it was as if she had just touched the most disgusting thing she could imagine. “Why the hell did you give me this?!” she shrieked, closing her eyes.
Boruto rolled his eyes and leaned forward to pick up his very much rejected boxers from the floor. “Overreacting much?” He held them up like they were no big deal. “They’re clean. You can wear them.”
“I don’t want to wear them! I want my clothes!”
He huffed, crossing his arms. “They’re still wet. I washed them while you were—” He waved a hand vaguely, searching for the right word before settling on, “—a complete mess.” He shook his head in exaggerated disappointment, clicking his tongue. “Very ungrateful woman, tsk tsk tsk. After everything I’ve done for you…” His voice trailed off into a quiet mumble
Sarada’s eyes narrowed. “What was that?!”
Boruto stiffened. “I said—” he cleared his throat, turning away as he casually waved a hand in her direction, “—go change already unless you wanna feel all bloated later.”
“Tsk! Fine!” she snapped, snatching the clothes from his outstretched hand. She knew arguing with him would only make things worse, and frankly, she was so over this conversation. “But turn around!”
Boruto let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his lone eye as he lazily spun around. “Yeah, yeah. Not like I haven’t already seen you—”
“Shut up, Uzumaki!!”
“Shut your mouth, Uchiha!” he shot back instantly.
Sarada's eye twitched. Realizing his mistake, his eyes widened and immediately zipped his lips, though she swore she could hear the smug smirk on his face. It's nice to hear that someone still calls him 'Uzuamaki.'
Sarada huffed, throwing him one last suspicious glare before quickly slipping the oversized sleeveless over her head. The fabric was soft and hung loose on her frame as its hem brushed against the middle of her thigh. It kinda looked like she was wearing a dress.
Absentmindedly, she buried her nose into the fabric and curiously inhaled its scent. It smelled... nice. Nice, like a fresh, warm, and annoyingly comforting for her liking.
Like Boruto...
Her entire body tensed as the realization hit, and she scowled, furiously shaking the thought from her head. What the hell is wrong with me?!
“Done?” Boruto’s voice broke through her spiral.
“No!” she snapped a little too quickly.
Grumbling under her breath, she grabbed the pair of boxers from the floor, and her irritation doubled when she took in the ridiculous little cartoon character printed right over the crotch. This is officially the worst day of my life.
She slipped them on, only to realize just how loose they were. The waistband barely clung to her waist, and the fabric was so baggy that one wrong move might send them sliding right off. Great. Now, I do look ridiculous.
She tugged at the waistband in frustration, trying to make them stay in place before finally turning to face him with an annoyed glare.
“Alright. Now I’m done.”
Boruto turned around, and the moment his eyes landed on her, his usual frown vanished.
She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
He blinked, gaze shamelessly trailing down to her body before quickly flickering back up. His mouth opened, but for a second, no words came out.
Sarada’s eyes narrowed. “What is it, Borutoo?!”
Boruto coughed into his fist, forcing himself to look at literally anything else. “Nothing, just—” He rubbed the back of his neck, and to her absolute shock, the faintest hint of pink crept up his neck, dusting the tips of his ears.
Uzumaki Boruto was blushing.
She stared at him, momentarily stunned. “Wait… are you—?”
He scowled immediately, whipping his head to the side like it would somehow hide his reaction. “Tsk, it’s nothing! Can you stopped being nosey as hell?” he huffed, clearly flustered.
"No!" Rolling her eyes, Sarada pushed herself off the floor and plopped into the bed, feeling delighted with how the bed made her bounce up and down.
“Idiot,” she muttered, straightening her clothes, only to freeze when, right in front of her, Boruto casually grabbed the towel at his waist and let it drop, reaching for his clothes without a second thought.
Her eyes widened in horror, and she violently turned around and covered her face with the pillow, face flaming. "You absolute— What the hell is your problem, Boruto?!"
Boruto, now pulling on his boxer like nothing had happened, threw her an amused glance over his shoulder. “What?”
"How dare you j-just... just change right in front of me?!"
He snorted. “Oh, please, I turned my back to you.” He shrugged, pulling a pink T-shirt over his head. “Besides, it’s not like you've seen my front. It's just my but—”
“Finish that sentence, and I will kill you.”
Boruto, as if the conversation was already decided in his favor, moved toward the bed. “Scoot over.”
Sarada, who was currently sprawled across the entire mattress, didn’t budge. She stubbornly held her ground, glaring at him like a territorial cat.
He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oi, scoot over, will you?”
Sarada barely turned her head, ignoring his whole existence. The bed was way too small for two people. If she moved even an inch, their bodies would inevitably press together. Absolutely not.
Boruto, however, was done arguing. With a sigh of pure frustration, he placed a hand on her hip and physically nudged her over, ignoring her spluttered protest as he forced her to shift until there was just barely enough space for him to squeeze in.
The second his body settled beside hers, a rush of warmth engulfed her. His arm brushed against hers, the heat of his skin bleeding into her own, and she could feel every shift of his muscles, every slight movement. Their legs nearly tangled, and—
Nope. Nope. NOPE.
Before that feeling started to torture her once more physically, she shoved him and shot up from the bed, standing stiffly beside the bed.
Boruto blinked up at her. "What now?"
“I am not sleeping like that,” Sarada declared, arms crossed tightly over her chest as if that would somehow shield her from the lingering warmth still clinging to her skin.
Boruto raised an eyebrow, looking way too casual as he sprawled against the mattress. “Like what?”
“Like that!” She gestured aggressively toward the very obvious lack of space between them. “This bed is way too small, Boruto!”
He smirked, stretching his arms above his head, making himself seem even bigger. “Not my fault you take up, like, half of the space when sleeping.”
Sarada’s eye twitched. Oh, this little—
“Then you sleep on the floor,” she snapped, jabbing a finger toward the wooden planks. “You spent three years sleeping on the ground, right? Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”
“Tch. No way.” He snorted, shaking his head.
Sarada gaped at him. “Excuse me?!”
He rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. “I live here. My bed. My rules.” He patted the empty space beside him with an infuriating grin. “C’mon, Princess, don’t be shy.”
She clenched her fists, willing herself to stay calm. "Boruto—"
“Yesss??” he interrupted, shutting his lone eye with an exaggerated sigh like he was dealing with a difficult child. “Just lie down and go to sleep.”
Sarada seethed. This man. For a second, she seriously considered grabbing the nearest pillow and smothering him with it with so much love or throwing an entire bedside table at him.
When she didn’t move, Boruto let out another long sigh, the kind that sounded both tired and expectant. Then, slowly, he cracked one eye open, full of an emotion flickering beneath the blue depths. It wasn’t teasing nor impatient. It wasn’t quite pleading, either.
It was the look of someone who had spent a long time reaching for something just out of his grasp. His eye traced over her face as if committing every detail to memory, as if she might disappear the moment he blinked.
Then, softer this time, almost like a request, he patted the small space beside him again and said, "Come here, Sarada."
Sarada was left frozen with nothing to say, feeling something inside her being stirred that she didn't want to name. It twisted low in her stomach, a strange mix of nervousness and… something else... something warm but nice feeling.
She swallowed, her arms unconsciously tightening around herself. It wasn’t fair. With the way he looked at her, all of her stubbornness and resistance seemed to fade into nothing. Replaced by the sudden urge to sink into the warmth of his arms and sleep in comfort.
“I…” She hesitated, her feet refusing to move.
Boruto didn't say anything and just waited with the same annoying look he had given her earlier. Sarada's throat felt tight.
She exhaled sharply, closing her eyes for a brief moment. This was stupid. She was overthinking. It was just sleeping. So why did it feel like something more?
Before she could talk herself out of it, she picked up the fallen blanket and took a step forward. Then another. And another until she was lowering herself onto the bed beside him. Boruto didn’t say a word and just shifted slightly to make room. And when his warmth brushed against her skin, a shiver ran through her.
For a moment, she lay still, staring at the ceiling, forcing her racing heart to slow as Boruto reached for the blanket and pulled it over them. He smoothed the fabric over her side, tucking it just enough so she wouldn’t get cold.
Sarada swallowed, turning to her side to see him better. His hand lingered for the briefest second before he let go.
They lay together on their side, their hands tucked under their heads, and their eyes locked together in the dim light of the room, with the moonlight filtering to the windows. Neither moved, neither spoke... just two souls suspended in a moment neither of them knew how to define.
“I can just go back to my inn, you know,” Sarada murmured, her voice softer than before.
Boruto scoffed. “At this hour? Tch, no way. You’re already settled here. Just rest, Sarada.”
She shrugged, trying to keep her voice light. “Or I’ll use your dimension thing and—”
“No.” He cut her off instantly, leaving no room for argument.
Sarada frowned, pouting. “Why not?”
Boruto exhaled slowly, breaking their eye contact. Whatever had been swirling in his gaze just seconds ago faded entirely.
“Because I need to preserve my chakra," he muttered with sadness in his voice. Then, after a brief silence, he added, "As soon as the sun’s up, I'm leaving Suna."
Something in the air shifted. The warmth of the room, the lingering heat between them, and the absurdity of their closeness seemed to drain away, leaving only the cold, heavy truth of his word.
I'm leaving...
Her fingers tightened around the blanket. She shouldn’t be surprised. She had known this was coming. Boruto had never stayed in one place for long… not anymore. And yet, it still cut through her like a blade to the chest, sharp and merciless.
She forced her voice to remain casual. “That soon, huh?”
Boruto didn’t look at her. “Yeah.”
“How long?”
A pause settled in as Boruto hesitated to answer. “I don’t exactly know…”
His words landed like a dull ache in her as the silence stretched between them. It was awkward, staring at each other, waiting for anyone who would break the silence. Sarada should have said something to make him stay, but she stopped herself. Because what was the point? It will never happen anyway.
Sarada inhaled slowly, pressing the bitterness down, forcing her expression to look not so disappointed or sad. If he could act like this was just another night, then so could she.
"Then you should sleep. Good night, Boruto,"
she said flatly before turning her back to him, swallowing down the sudden tightness in her throat.
It’s fine. It’s always fine, she told herself.
There was a long, weighted silence, a hesitation she could feel on his side, before Boruto finally shifted, settling just inches behind her, close enough that she could feel his warmth but not close enough to reach. It was always like this. Him, leaving. And her, pretending it didn’t hurt.
Neither of them spoke again, but she knew, without a doubt, that he was still wide awake, just like she was. Then, with a slow exhale, he made a hesitant shift in the bed before suddenly feeling a warmth on her side.
Boruto’s arm slid around her waist before settling against her stomach, fingers curling just slightly into the fabric of the oversized clothes he had given her. Her breath hitched, her body instinctively tensing at the unexpected touch. But Boruto didn’t move away. He just held he, savoring every moment she was still in his arms and securing himself in someone he didn't want to let go of.
"No matter where I go… no matter how long I’m gone…” His fingers curled just a little tighter, bringing her closer to his body.
"I’ll always crawl back to you, Sarada."
Something inside her cracked wide open. Her chest ached with something unbearably heavy, and before she could stop it, a single tear slipped free. It trailed down her face, disappearing soundlessly into the pillow beneath her.
He couldn’t see or know that she was hurting on the inside, and she was grateful for that. If he saw her hurting, he might hesitate and stay. And if he stayed, even for a moment longer, it would hurt so much worse when he inevitably had to leave again.
So instead, she let the silence swallow her whole, let the warmth of his body against hers sink into her bones like a cruel, short comfort. She squeezed her eyes shut and let herself pretend, just for tonight, that he wasn’t going anywhere.
The morning came as its light filtered through the curtains, casting a blinding glow across the room and directly to the bed. Sarada stirred, her lashes fluttering as she slowly surfaced from sleep.
She had expected to wake up with a cold, empty space on her side, but instead, when she cracked her eyes open, the first thing she saw was a deep, endless blue orb staring right back at her.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” A slow, lazy smile tugged at Boruto’s lips.
Sarada blinked, her brain still sluggish with sleep. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she was awake or still dreaming. By sunrise, she had braced herself to find nothing but a cold, empty space beside her. But he was still here. He was supposed to be gone by now.
Her breath hitched. “B-Boruto… what are you still doing here?”
His grin widened slightly, and with an infuriatingly relaxed tone, he said, “Looking at you, obviously.”
Sarada’s face heated instantly. “W-What?!”
Boruto propped himself up on one elbow, his cheek resting against his palm as his gaze lazily traced over her face. “You look like a baby when you sleep. All cute and peaceful.”
"Are you... not leaving anymore?" she asked, whispering.
The thought of him not leaving wrapped around her heart, squeezing tight. It was ridiculous how much it affected her, how the mere sight of him, still lying beside her, sent a rush of warmth through her veins. Sarada felt like she was floating.
"No. It's just a change of time," he said smoothly, his voice low and infuriatingly attractive. "I'm still leaving."
Her heart soared, only for it to come crashing down a second later. Sarada scowled, huffing as she turned her face away.
"Then what are you still doing here?!" she snapped, her face scrunching into a pout as an unexpected irritation clawed up inside her. She had let herself believe, just for a moment, that he was staying. That maybe, just this once, she wouldn't have to watch him walk away.
"The sun is up... go now!"
Boruto blinked at her sudden change of mood, then suddenly laughed, shaking his head.
"Now you're laughing at me?!" Sarada huffed, her pout deepening as heat crept up her neck in embarrassment. "Tsk, I don’t want you here anymore. Go! Shoo! Shoo! And never come back!"
She pushed against his chest, trying to shove him away, not that she actually expected it to work. And sure enough, he didn’t budge an inch. He was infuriatingly solid, his body as unmoving as a wall.
Boruto’s laughter gradually faded, his gaze softened, and before she could protest again, he caught both of her wrists in one hand, effortlessly stilling her. The sudden shift in his expression sent her heart stumbling over itself.
"W-What are doing? L-Let me go." She tried to withdraw her hand, but his grip was strong. "Boruto, I said let me g—"
His sudden movement cut off her words. With a slow, intended shift of his hand, he brought her hands to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against her knuckles.
“Don’t say that…” he murmured, his voice lower now, tinged with sadness and pain. He looked down at her, his lone blue eye holding her captive, full of emotion so intense it sent warmth spreading through her chest, her stomach flipping in response.
"It hurts me deep when you say that."
Sarada’s heart stuttered, her fingers twitching against his as the heat of his lips lingered on her skin. She quickly looked away, clearing her throat in a poor attempt to shake off the overwhelming rush of feelings surging inside her.
“I-I don’t really mean that… I was just joking, geez,” she muttered, trying to sound casual.
But when she stole a glance back at him, Boruto was still watching her with that look, still holding her hands as if letting go wasn't an option. Sarada felt like it was impossible to breathe.
Sarada felt her breath catch, her heart hammering against her ribs. Then, out of nowhere, a loud grumble echoed between them.
Boruto blinked. “I’m hungry,” he said flatly, rubbing his stomach with his free hand.
And just like that, all the tension, all the deep, unspoken emotions vanished in an instant. He finally let her hands go, his entire focus shifting. Sarada stared at him like he had lost his mind. Seriously? How could someone switch moods that fast?
Before she could fully process his absurdity, Boruto turned to her with an almost silly pout. “How about a breakfast date, hmm?”
Breakfast—what now?
Sarada opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he grabbed her wrist and effortlessly pulled her up. She stumbled slightly but didn’t resist as he guided her to stand properly, her mind still lagging behind the last sentence he shamelessly uttered.
As she watched in baffled amusement, Boruto crouched down, rummaging through his travel bag. When he finally turned back to her, he was holding a familiar piece of clothing, a big, black jacket. It was clearly his, mirroring the one he always wore.
Without a word, he stepped closer, wrapping the jacket around her shoulders before tugging the zipper up all the way to her neck. The jacket was too big for her; it drowned her frame, and the sleeves swallowed her hands completely.
“Wear this,” he murmured, his expression looking so serious. His fingers brushed against her collarbone as he adjusted the jacket properly. “It’s still cold outside.” He pulled the hood up over her head, tugging it snugly into place before grabbing the strings and pulling them tight, making the opening hug her face completely.
Sarada just stood there, pouting with warmth blooming in her chest as she stared up at him. His touch was absentminded but careful, his gaze filled with so soft, so undeniably Boruto, that it made her heart stumble.
Still pouting, she stretched her neck out and peeked out from the tiny gap left uncovered. "I looked like a little dumpling."
"Of course you are!" He grinned, pinching both of her cheeks.
By the way, it was not just Boruto who was hungry; Sarada, too, when her stomach grumbled more loudly than Boruto's on their way to the restaurant. He actually had planned to do it in the restaurant a little bit farther from his place, but because of her hunger (how dare he reason that!), they just decided to eat in a simple restaurant nestled just beside his inn.
The quiet clinking of utensils filled the air as they ate in comfortable silence, both clearly too hungry to talk.
Sarada, too focused on devouring her food, took a bite of sausage too quickly and suddenly choked. She coughed, reaching for her water, but before she could grab it, a hand was already there, holding it up for her.
“Careful,” Boruto murmured, looking at her while frowning. “No one’s going to steal your food, tsk.”
She shot him a glare between coughs but still took the water, gulping it down until she could breathe properly again. When she was done, she expected him to smirk and tease her. Instead, he grabbed a napkin, leaning in, and gently wiped the corner of her lips.
Sarada froze, the world around her narrowing down to just him and her with this sweet moment they were sharing.
“T-Thanks… but I can manage,” she mumbled, forcing herself to look away, her face suddenly feeling too warm.
Boruto only hummed in response, tucking the napkin away.
“I know,” he said simply, his gaze lingering on her for just a second longer before returning to his food.
Sarada bit her lip, staring down at her plate, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest.
Just as she was about to take another bite of her sausage, more careful now, a voice behind her that made her sit up straight.
“That’s what I thought. I knew I’d find you here.”
Her eyes widened, and she quickly turned to see the person standing behind her, arms crossed and a knowing smile playing on her red lipstick.
“Y-Yodo?! W-What are you doing here?” Sarada stammered, her face heating up on instinct.
Yodo rolled her eyes and held up a small key between her fingers. “Returning this, obviously. I went to your inn, expecting you had a spare just in case, but no one answered. Then I remembered Boruto was the one who brought you in, so I figured you were here instead.” She gestured between them with a knowing grin. “And look at that, my deduction was spot on.”
Flustered, Sarada snatched the key from her hand and shoved it into her jacket. “T-Thanks, Yodo. I appreciate it.”
“Morning, Yodo!” Boruto greeted cheerfully, his voice as bright as ever. “Why don’t you join us for breakfast?”
Sarada squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, already dreading whatever absurd conclusion Yodo was about to jump to.
“Ohhh?” Yodo mused, eyeing Boruto with an even wider smirk. His gaze bounced between them. “Well, well, well... You’re in a good mood today. I’m used to your usual grumpy self. Did something happen betw—”
“No! Nothing happened!!” Sarada cut her off immediately, her voice a little too high and a little too defensive, making her look guilty when, in fact, she was not!
Yodo just raised a brow, staring at her before nodding knowingly. “Uh-huh. Right... Because that totally didn’t sound suspicious at all.” She chuckled.
Sarada opened her mouth to argue, but Yodo was already turning on her heel. “Anyway! Thanks for the invitation, but I already ate. I’m off now! Have fun, lovebirds!!!”
And just like that, she was gone, leaving nothing but an awkward silence in her path.
Boruto chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down at his plate. “Tch, you’re so transparent.”
Sarada scowled, brows snapped together at his teasing tone. Without thinking, she stabbed a piece of sausage from his plate and forcefully shoved it toward his mouth.
“Eat your food!” she snapped.
Boruto laughed as he chewed, his eye crinkling with amusement as he looked at her.. “Yes, ma’am!”
Notes:
Uhm, I actually have no personal experience with Desert Place, so I have zero idea if it's really cold at night and early morning in there. So, I've done my research ☝🏾🤓, and Mr. Google said that, yes, it is cold at night and early morning. So, ig I'm right lol. Anyway, if yk, just educate me tysm!
Chapter 6: Boruto
Summary:
He love Sarada.
There, he finally said it!
He didn’t know when it started. Maybe it was always there, buried under everything else, but now, in the stillness of the night, he couldn’t no ignore it. But just as the truth began to take shape in his chest, it was smothered by something else—fear.
He told himself it was better this way. That she deserved someone else. Someone who can love her without fearing what tomorrow might take from them. Someone who wasn’t cursed, or marked, or haunted by a future that might not include him at all.
And that someone...
That someone clearly wasn’t him.
Chapter Text
Boruto had been gone from Suna for quite a while, long gone for him to miss her presence so much to the point where she constantly crossed his mind— her nagging, her smile, and even the simple things she always does, like adjusting her glasses when she was annoyed or stressed.
At first, Boruto managed to dismiss it, but the longer he was away, the harder it was for him to pay attention to the point where it started interfering with his focus. When he reaches a new village or place, he instinctively looks for things that might interest her. Boruto finds himself picturing her reactions to everything, such as the food, the culture, the literature, and the beautiful sights.
He would always think of her to the point where its no longer missing a friend, but longing to see the special one.
"Can I go home now, Koji?"
Boruto crouched on the edge of a cliffside, his cloak billowing slightly as the wind kicked up dust and sand from the valley below. The village stretched out beneath them, small and insignificant under the vastness of the desert sky.
He tore his gaze from the sight and looked at the person behind him with a bit of pout on his lips.
"You have no home, incase you forgot," Koji replied blanky, arms crossed, observing the scene with the same indistinct expression he always wore.
"I mean, can I go back to Suna now?"
"That's not your home, though."
Boruto huffed, puffing out his cheeks slightly as he kicked the small rock off the cliffside. He watched it tumble down, bouncing off jagged edges before disappearing into the valley below.
“I know that,” he grumbled, standing on his feet before crossing his arms. “But that’s not the point.”
"Then what is your point, kid?"
Boruto spun on his heel to face him, his cloak whipping behind him dramatically. Koji just looked at him blankly.
"I've been here for a week, Koji. A week! And for what? Wandering through wastelands, investigating creepy tree things, and eating the worst food imaginable—”
Koji raised an eyebrow. “You could cook for yourself.” He was clearly teasing him, though it didn't look like he was. But Boruto had known him for so long that he could read his small twist of expression.
Boruto rolled his eye, shaking his head as he turned away. “You know what? Talk to yourself.”
Koji smirked, watching the boy stomp off like a kid denied his favorite snack. Boruto had been forced to mature quickly, but that childish spark was still there, buried beneath everything he'd been through.
"Don't walk too far. We'll be leaving soon."
"Where to this time?" He looked over his shoulder.
“Orochimaru’s old hideout. If we leave early, we should get there by night.”
Boruto’s frown deepened. “Of all places, why that one?”
He still remembered how unsettling Orochimaru was, the kind of presence that made your skin crawl. There was no way his hideout would be any different.
“Orochimaru was a genius when it came to his research. If there’s any place that might have answers about your problem, it’s there.” He glanced at Boruto's hand.
He followed his gaze, looking down in his palm where his Karma mark stared back at him. For three years, he’d been on the run, and in all that time, he hadn’t lost control, not once. Momoshiki's voice had been silent, too, but he could still feel his presence, though distant. But Boruto knew better. This wasn’t over. Momoshiki was planning something, waiting. And the next time he took over...
Boruto clenched his fist, pushing the thought away before shoving his hand into his pocket.
“Fine.”
The journey had been long, and Boruto knew better than to waste energy. Koji had warned him not to use his teleportation, telling him to preserve his chakra in case of an ambush. So, they walked, to his dismay. They had been walking for how many days now, and Boruto was tired. But Koji was the boss!
As they passed through a small village with the streets buzzing with life. It seems they are having their festival now. Stalls lined the road, filled with trinkets, fabrics, and wooden carvings for souvenirs.
Of course, food wouldn't be missing in times like this. The scent of different foods waffled to the late afternoon air, tempting passersby with every breath, making their stomachs growl and mouth water.
Not for Boruto, though. His eye and attention stayed sharp, scanning this unfamiliar village for possible threats— until something else caught his attention.
He stopped abruptly, drawn in before he even knew why. His gaze stayed on the small stall in the corner filled with handcrafted pieces of jewelry that twinkled as they caught the sunlight. Something about it tugged at him, like a whisper at the edge of his mind.
Before he realized it, his feet were already moving. By the time he was close enough to touch the display, his gaze locked onto a silver necklace with a single pendant shaped like a sun.
Koji, on the other hand, still walking, frowned when he no longer sensed Boruto’s presence trailing behind him. He turned, spotting the boy standing still, staring at the display. With an exasperated sigh, he made his way back to his direction.
“Boy, in case you forgot, we’re not here to browse.”
Boruto didn’t respond. His fingers hovered over the pendant as if drawn to it. His expression remained blank as the memory flooded his mind.
Under the silver glow of the moon, her Mangekyō Sharingan burned like molten fire, its eight sharp triangles forming the shape of a sun. It was hypnotic, dangerous, and breathtaking.
"You asked me what happened to my eyes? … You happened, baka-Boruto."
His throat felt dry. When Sasuke was still unsealed, he told him that Sarada had unlocked her Mangekyō Sharingan. But he never said how. He only gave him a meaningful look as if saying the answer was something Boruto needed to figure out himself.
"No other clan feels deeper love than the Uchiha," his master had said in a very serious voice. "Once a Uchiha member knows love and loses that love, it is replaced by a stronger hate that changes them. That’s when a special power emerges.... the Mangekyo Sharingan."
Boruto swallowed hard. Deep love. A love so strong that its loss triggers a power born from grief. And Sarada had told him—
"Would you like to buy it, son? It's perfect for a gift."
The shopkeeper’s voice cut through his thoughts, shattering them before he could finish and pulling him back to the present. Boruto blinked, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"It’s half price," the vendor added with a grin.
"O-Oh, y-yeah. Yes, please. I'll take it."
He pulled out a few bills from his pocket, handed them over, and took the necklace from its case. Without a second glance, he shoved it into his pocket.
Koji, who had been watching silently, finally spoke as they resumed walking. “For you?”
Boruto kept his gaze on the road. His fingers curled around the pendant inside his pocket, pressing it against his palm.
“…No.” His voice was fainter now, almost lost to the evening air.
“Just someone special.”
The fire crackled softly in the dead silence of Orochimaru’s abandoned hideout. Shadows flickered against the cracked wall, creating an eerie play of light that hinted at the long-forgotten mysteries within the place.
He sat in front, the warmth licking at his skin as he held the necklace between his fingers. The sun-shaped pendant caught the firelight as it s[in over and over. His attention was too caught up with the thing on his hand to the point where he didn't even notice Koji sitting across from him and watching silently.
"Was that for the Uchiha girl?" He couldn't help but ask.
Boruto remained silent for a bride moment before answering him. "...yeah."
Koji leaned forward slightly, arms resting on his knees. “Would you give that to her when you get back?”
He hesitated, and his grip tightened slightly. “…Mmm, I suppose.” Finally, he turned his lone eye toward Koji. “You think she’d like it?”
Koji shrugged, looking away as if suddenly uninterested. “Dunno. I only met that girl once. You’ve known her since you were kids.”
Boruto glanced back down at the pendant, contemplating Koji’s answer before nodding to himself. “She would like this.”
Silence settled between them, filled only with the crackling of the fire. Boruto exhaled, rubbing his thumb over the metal surface. It was warm now, maybe from the fire or maybe from his grip, but it didn’t matter. His thoughts had been tangled ever since her voice found a home in his head again.
"You asked me what happened to my eyes? … You happened, baka-Boruto."
He didn’t know why those words stuck the way they did. Or maybe he did—and he just wasn’t ready to admit it.
"Whatever you are feeling, Boruto. Stop it."
His thumb hovered over the pendant. Slowly, he looked up, his gaze narrowing at Koji, who'd been watching him in silence.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" he asked flatly.
Koji’s gaze dropped briefly to the pendant, then back to the boy across from him.
“Love, if that’s what you’re feeling… is the worst thing you could let in right now.” His voice was quiet, steady. “It softens your guard. Twists your choices. And if you’re not careful, it’ll be the thing that gets you or her.... killed.”
Boruto’s expression didn’t shift, but something behind his eyes flickered with anger, denial, fear, or maybe all those three. "I don't love Sarada."
Koji raised an eyebrow, unmoved. “Did I say a name?”
The silence that followed was loud. Boruto stilled, realizing that this old man cornered him. His throat tightened as his words caught somewhere in his chest. The hell?! Why did I say her name?
Koji leaned slightly as he placed his hand on his lap, his eyes never leaving the poor boy's fave. Boruto looked like he was wrestling with something that refused to budge. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed, and his whole expression strained like he was trying to hold something in that wanted out.
He looked like he was trying to hold the world together with his teeth. Or, as Koji bluntly thought to himself, he looked like he was shitting himself.
“You’ve been out of it for a week,” he said. “Eyes always somewhere else. Walking like you’re chasing a shadow only you can see.” He paused, watching as Boruto’s fingers twitched subtly, still wrapped around the pendant.
“You’re clearly thinking of her.”
Boruto didn’t speak, but the way his grip tightened gave him away. Koji let out a slow exhale, leaning back slightly as the firelight flickered between them.
"You need to stopped feeling that." He vaguely wave his hand on the air. "Because when the time comes when you’re forced to choose between saving the world and saving the one person who means everything… you’ll hesitate. Even for a second.”
His eyes narrowed, locking into him.
“And sometimes that second is all it takes to lose everything.”
Boruto was left in silence, lowering his gaze as his inside was painfully twisted. That's the worst part: he knew Koji was right. He'd seen unimaginable things that even him cannot comprehend enough.
And for the first time in a long while, he let himself ask the question that had been gnawing at him for so long.
“…Did you know something, Koji?” he whispered, bringing his gaze back to Koji. His voice felt too small in the vast emptiness of the abandoned hideout.
“What happens to us? Did you see something between me and Sarada?” A pause. His fingers curled slightly, barely brushing against the pendant in his palm. “Will I be able to survive?”
Koji didn’t answer right away. The fire cast flickering shadows across his face, but his expression remained blank. Eventually, something flickered in his eyes, making Boruto's chest heavier.
“So you did see something.” He laughed bitterly.
“I wouldn’t ask that if I were you,” Koji said evenly. “Knowing too much about your own and Sarada's fate makes things harder."
He didn't answer. It was stupid to ask. He knew that very well. But some part of him had hoped Koji would lie. That maybe he’d say no, there’s nothing to worry about. That the future was uncertain, unwritten.
Boruto looked back at the fire, but the flames felt colder somehow. Maybe he already knew the answer. Maybe deep down, he’d felt it long before this conversation.
That’s the thing about carrying fate in your blood and a god in your body: everything feels like a countdown. And if the story really ends with him losing himself, if he becomes something beyond saving—
Then she’d be the one to suffer for it.
He clenched his jaw, fingers curling into a fist, grasping the pendant tightly. Boruto wasn’t scared of death. Not really. He was scared of becoming something that would hurt her. Of being the reason she unlocks a new level of grief.
He love Sarada.
There, he finally said it!
He didn’t know when it started. Maybe it was always there, buried under everything else, but now, in the stillness of the night, he couldn’t no ignore it. But just as the truth began to take shape in his chest, it was smothered by something else—fear.
Because how could he let himself love her? How could he hold onto something so precious when he was the one walking the edge of a future he might not survive? When there was a god inside him, waiting for the perfect moment to take everything away?
If he admitted this, if he allowed himself to want her, and then lost control, and hurt her… or worse—
No. He wouldn’t do that to her. He swears he will do everything just to prevent that to happen.
So instead of admitting what he felt, Boruto buried it. He took everything; every unspoken word, every glance that lingered too long, every moment her name made his chest beat in a weird and nice waym and shoved it deep into that part of himself where all the other things he couldn’t afford to feel lived.
He told himself it was better this way. That she deserved someone else. Someone who can love her without fearing what tomorrow might take from them. Someone who wasn’t cursed, or marked, or haunted by a future that might not include him at all.
And that someone...
That someone clearly wasn’t him.
Without another word, he quietly slipped the pendant into the inside pocket of his jacket—right over his heart. It was the only place he could keep her. The only way he could hold on without putting her at risk.
At least this way, she was close.
He turned away from the fire and sank to the cold floor, lying on his side. His arms folded beneath his head like a pillow, eye heavy with a weight that had nothing to do with exhaustion.
"Just wake me up when it's my turn to watch," he murmured, before closing his eye, letting her name whisper in his thoughts as the silence swallow him whole.
Notes:
short update this time. I apologized!!
Chapter 7: Sarada
Summary:
It’s over… finally over...
“SARADA!!”
She knew that voice. Even through the haze, the dark, the silence closing in, she knew the voice.
Slowly and struggling, she parted her lips, trembling as blood clung to the corner of her mouth. “W—welcome home…” Her voice was barely more than a breath. “Baka…Boruto…
Borusara week Day 5: Home
Notes:
So hi?? hehe, me is back again after so long. Forgive me, your shayla was just busy in life and lazy (as always). But here we are hehe
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sarada woke up to silence. The kind that presses in your ears until it becomes louder than any sound. The sun had already risen for hours, yet it seemed like the Suna's heat never quite reached the cold feeling that sat stubbornly inside her chest.
She missed Boruto.
Not in the poetic, wistful way people write songs about. No. She missed him in the way dying people miss air. In the way a body screams silently when something vital is ripped out of it.
She missed that warmth that he gave, his presence as he curled beside her, the soft beat of his heart against her cheek, and the weight of his arm around her waist.
She missed having him.
She continued to lie still in the middle of the bed, his bed. The sheets around her wrinkled from nights spent alone. Slowly, she blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, her body stiff as she turned onto her back. Her fingers instinctively reached out, pressing against the sheets where Boruto had been, fingers trembling as they met nothing but linen and air. Where his body had once radiated warmth through the night, grounding her with a kind of safety she hadn’t realized she needed until it was gone.
Now, the space was cold, just like the rest of her.
For the past few days since he left, Sarada had been ridiculous (she could admit that, at least just to herself) for leaving her old inn and moving into Boruto's room without telling anyone. Not because it was practical or even remotely logical, but she just wanted to be near something that still felt like him.
The scent of his jacket, which he forgot to bring, was hanging on the door, and the faint scent of his shampoo and soap on his pillow. She curled toward it, pressing her face into it, hoping desperately that she could trick her body into feeling whole again.
It was stupid, she knows. Pathetic, even. But it helped her sleep.
When she's sleeping, where he'd appear with that crooked smile, say her name like it was a secret only he knew how to say. And for those moments, Sarada could pretend that he was just out for the day, and that he'd come back before the night settled in, even though she knew better.
Sarada buried her face more into his pillow and inhaled deeply. Yep. She was losing her damn mind over that stupid, beautiful, infuriating man. Curse him!
She let out a muffled, wordless scream into the pillow, thrashing weakly against the bedsheets. Her legs kicked at the covers as her fists pounded once, then fell limp on her side. And when she realized she had enough, she stopped and stared at the ceiling, catching her own breath.
Minutes passed, or maybe more. Her breathing finally slowed, but the pain remained in her heart as her tears blurred her vision. She blinked them away, refusing to look weak. Then, finally, she let herself whisper his name into the silence.
"Boruto… you stupid man,” she said softly, each word dragging out of her like a wound reopening. Her fingers curled tighter into the pillow. “Damn you… for making me miss you like this.”
Sarada went to work as usual because duty didn't care about heartbreak. The world won't stop turning just because she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She wouldn't just neglect her responsibility just because he missed someone. The mission came first. It always came first.
She woke up earlier than she needed and showered in silence. The water did nothing to wash away even the slightest feeling she was carrying. Moving on, she dressed herself without thinking, as her hands moved on their own. Now, looking at the mirror, looking at herself, who looked like a corpse, she tied her Konoha's hitai-ate and took a deep breath.
“Morning, Captain Uchiha.”
She nodded curtly to the Suna chunin who passed her, but her expression remained serious.
The moment she enters the office she's been sharing with Yodo and her team, she starts burying herself in work, beginning with patrol reports, then moving on to battle formations, and reviewing surveillance data. They also had a brief meeting where they strategized about the Shinjus and any potential threats lurking in the shadows. Sarada only managed to listen, nod, and speak when necessary.
All for that, just to forget that stupid man's absence.
She hadn’t even realized she was gripping the edge of the map on the table until Yodo nudged her.
“You good?” Yodo asked, her sharp eyes scanning Sarada’s face.
She lied, not bothering to glance up. “Yeah.”
Yodo snorted. “Try again. You’ve been a mess since Boruto left. Is this about him?”
“What? No—” she startled, too fast. Sarada sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. “It’s not just him.” She lied again. If she were Pinocchio, her nose would be a mile long right now.
“Uh-huh,” Yodo said, clearly not buying it. “ Don't insult me because I know what you've been doing since he was gone. Moving into his inn, talking in the afternoon naps, calling out his name absentmindedly during lunch yesterday... while chewing. Now, look me in the eyes and tell me it's not about him.”
Sarada’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away. Was she really that obvious? She swears she did her best in masking her longing, with the stupid-golden boy.
“I didn’t—”
“You did.” Yodo softened. “Look, I’m not judging. Just... don’t lose your focus, okay? You need to pull it together."
She blinked, surprised by how gently her words landed. She really thought Yodo would be mad at her for losing focus in the middle of this important mission.
Yodo leaned her hip against the table, arms crossed loosely. “I get it, you know. How much he matters to you.”
Sarada swallowed hard, looking down at the map lying on the table.
“I know what it’s like,” Yodo said, voice softer now. “Caring about someone that much. Worrying about them when they're not around. Feeling like a piece of you’s missing.”
Her gaze drifted briefly toward the window, where the harsh Suna's sunlight spilled in. She didn’t name anyone. She didn’t have to. Sarada caught the slight smile and the far-off look, her mind immediately filled in the blanks. She was talking about Shinki.
Yodo looked back at her and shrugged. "I know how much you want to be near him. To know if he’s okay. I get that. I really do.”
Sarada’s throat tightened. She didn’t know the full story between Yodo and Shinki. She’d only seen them together a handful of times over the years, but standing here now and hearing the way Yodo spoke of him. Sarada could feel it.
Whatever was between them, Sarada realized that... she understood that feeling. The same feeling had driven her into his room the night he left. She hadn’t named it, not even to herself. Afraid of what it might mean or how it might change her.
Feelings like that towards him, deep, consuming, and impossible to ignore, were always a sign of weakness. That's what Sarada believed. A distraction. Something that could get you killed on the field, or worse, leave you broken long after the fight was over.
The double doors of the office burst open with a loud bang, bringing her back into the present. Sarada turned sharply, eyes narrowing on the person bold enough to barge into a high-level operations room without permission. This wasn’t a typical open discussion room, like the rest of the rooms in this building. Entry here required a pass, protocol, and permission. And only a handful of people had that kind of authority.
So when she saw Konohamaru stride in, followed closely by Mitsuki and Araya, her expression shifted. Something was wrong.
“Konohamaru-sensei?” she asked, already on her feet.
“We’ve got intel,” Konohamaru announced, not even bothering to make polite greetings, as his eyes landed on each of them. He moved to the table and dropped a series of scrolls onto its surface, the impact echoing in the tense silence. “The Shinju are closing in on Suna’s borders.”
The weight of those words dropped heavily around the room, making Sarada's muscles tense. They're here... and they're coming.
“We’ve already analyzed their movement patterns. If they continue at this pace, they’ll breach the outer defenses in less than three days.”
Sarada’s mind raced, already plotting scenarios, defense lines, and worst-case outcomes of this mission.
Then Konohamaru spoke again, drawing her attention back to him. “We have a plan," he said. "Straight from the Eighth Hokage." His eyes landed on her, lingering on her longer than on anyone else in the room.
"And I'm here to ask you all to trust me and the Eight Hokage in this... is that clear?"
The room shifted, a low murmur of agreement rolling through the others. But Sarada stayed silent because trust wasn’t simple for her anymore... especially to Shikamaru-san. Their relationship had been bumpy since the Omnipotence happened, with him being an asshole old man and her being the hard-headed one. When they talked, it would always end in a draw.
But... but this is not the right moment to drag old grudges into the light. The mission mattered more.
After her long silence, Sarada let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She straightened her back and raised her head proudly. Everyone was watching her now, waiting for her word.
"I'm in."
Their plan failed...
It should have been simple: lure the Shinju away from the village, earn their trust, separate them one by one, and take back the thorn bulbs to their owner. That's it. It's all simple... but they failed because of one mistake.
And everything fell apart.
Sarada knelt in the sand, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The wind howled around her, carrying the scent of fresh blood... from the fresh blood surrounding her. The desert, once endless and golden beneath the sun, was now a graveyard.
They had walked into this battlefield believing they could successfully complete this mission. After all, shinjus were just children. They could easily be lured out. That if they played their cards right, they could win without much fight.
How stupid!
How naïve!
From the beginning, they had tread carefully, lowering their weapons, offering words of peace, pretending to be allies. The Shinju had accepted them, let them in, and trusted them. It had all seemed so easy.
But it was all a lie. The truth was that it wasn’t Shinju who had been lured and manipulated.
It was them!
Ryu had known their plan all along. From the very beginning, he had known. Yet he pretended not to know anything as they spoke of peace, extended their hands, and smiled. Letting them believe that they are in control in this game... letting them believe they were the ones pulling the strings of this play... letting them think they had won.
When the time came when he revealed the thorn bulb, the one thing they had risked their lives for, the answer to bringing Shinki back, Yodo snapped. Without thinking, she lunged for it in desperation to save him.
Damn it!
Sarada lifted her head, her vision blurred and ears ringing as her body burned in deep pain. Her hands trembled as she pressed them into the sand, trying to push herself up. The ground beneath her was soaked, not with water, but with red blood.
I need to get up... we will not die in this place!
Her breath hitched when her vision cleared. Ahead of her, Yodo’s body lay motionless in the sand. Dark, glistening pools of it seeped into the desert floor beneath her, staining the once-golden sands a deep, horrific crimson. It dripped from her mouth, her fingers, the strands of her blonde hair clinging to her pale face.
Sarada’s blood froze, and she felt her stomach drop. “YODO!” she screamed her name as loud as she could, but Yodo's body remained motionless.
She scrambled forward, barely feeling the pain in her body as she moved. Her only focus was on getting to her and helping her friend. But before she could reach her, a hand grabbed her wrist, yanking her back. She spun around, eyes wild, and her kunai already raised.
"M-Mitsuki?" He was bruised and bleeding in some parts of his body, but breathing... He's alive. Thank the gods! Relief flashed over Sarada, her weapon slipped slowly from her hand as she threw her arms around her friend, clutching him tight.
“I t-thought—” her voice cracked, buried in his shoulder. “I thought you were gone too.”
“Sarada,” he rasped, barely breathing. "We have to go.” His grip on her wrist tightened. She took her state. His pale skin was stained with dirt and blood as his eyes widened in urgency.
"B-But Yodo?" Sarada’s voice cracked as she looked past him, where Yodo’s body lay still. "We have to help Yodo. She needs our help." A choked sound escaped her lips, something between a sob and a desperate inhale. “She needs us. W-We can’t just leave our friend, Mitsuki—please—”
“I know, I know,” Mitsuki whispered, voice full of pain. “But we have to… or we’ll die too.”
Mitsuki was about to drag her further away from Yodo when, out of the sudden, Araya's voice erupted into the thin air.
“SARADA, MITSUKI, MOVE!”
They didn’t have time to think or even see what it was before the world around them erupted.
A deafening crack split the air as something massive slammed into the ground behind them. The earth shook violently, breaking apart beneath her feet. A shockwave tore through the sand, lifting it in a blinding wall of dust.
Sarada staggered back, choking on the sudden thickness in the air. At the same time, Mitsuki moved just in time. His arm hooked around her waist and yanked her back just as a slab of earth, easily the size of a house, came crashing down right where she’d been standing.
The force of the impact hit like a bomb. It knocked them both off their feet, sent them tumbling hard into the sand. Sarada hit the ground, further away from Mitsuki, which rattled all her bones. And for a moment, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears as her lungs fought for air.
Her body screamed in protest as she forced herself up, coughing. "M-Mitsuki?" she croaked, turning her head around, yet no body of Mitsuki was around. "M-Mitsuki, where the hell are you?"
No, please. Panic clawed up her chest as she blinked harder against the dark, fighting herself to stay conscious.
And when the dust finally settled, she saw his body far away from her, sprawled like a broken doll. A deep, jagged wound split down the side of his head, soaking his blue hair in red.
No. Please, not him, too.
Sarada’s heart rumbled in her chest as she scrambled forward, the world around her blurring with her tears. Her knees scraped against the sand, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she reached for him. And the moment she felt the faintest twistch of his fingers, Sarada sucked a sharp breath.
"Do you, creatures, think that you could deceive and defeat us just like that?"
Sarada was so overwhelmed with happiness that she didn't hear the sound of the approaching footsteps behind her. She brushed Mitsuki's hair away from his face before slowly turning her head in his direction.
"What else do you want, Ryu?" she barked, wanting to remove the calm expression from his face.
"Nothing actually... I'm just wondering how Otsutsuki Boruto would react if I were to kill you. Don't you think he'll finally show up?"
Sarada’s breath hitched with the mention of him.
Ryu’s smirk widened at her reaction. “To be honest, I expected him to crawl out of his little hiding spot the moment I laid a hand on you,” he mused. “Like a cowardly rat, scrambling to protect what’s his .” He let out a disappointed sigh. “But it seems he’s far more spineless than I thought.”
Sarada’s fists clenched, but she said nothing. She knew that if she angered him much more, she wasn’t going to last much longer.
He let out a quiet chuckle, tilting his head as if genuinely pondering his next words. He tapped his fingers against his temple as his eyes bore into dying Sarada. "Hmph. But I guess I was wrong. I guess… overestimated how much you actually mean to him."
Sarada’s breathing stopped for a moment. Her body was screaming in agony, but her glare at him hardened. If looks could kill, rigor would already be setting in.
“Oh?!” He leaned in slightly toward her. “Did that sting? Have I hit a nerve?”
Her fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging so hard into her palms she thought they might draw blood.
Ryu laughed, shaking his head as he began to circle them like a predator with time to kill.. “This is honestly disappointing,” he said, dragging the words out like a sigh. “I mean, for days since I was born, all I’ve heard about is him.”
Sarada tensed, her body coiled to strike, eyes never leaving him.
"The legend. The rogue shinobi. The ‘man who defies fate.’” He scoffed, kicking sand aside as he walked past Mitsuki’s motionless form. “And yet, here you are, bleeding out, and he’s nowhere to be found.”
“It makes you wonder,” he continued, watching her closely. “Was he really ever watching over you? Or were you just another piece in his plan ?” He leaned in slightly, his purple eyes narrowing.
“…Tell me, Sarada. Do you think he even cares at all?”
Sarada wanted to answer. She wanted to shut him up, to throw every ounce of hatred she had at him. But she couldn’t because she didn’t even know what was really running through Boruto’s head.
He had changed. Since the moment he returned, he had been different, a shadow of the person she once knew. He still smiled, laughed, and acted like the Boruto she had grown up with, but something beneath it all felt... off.
And she hated it. Hated the way he would look at her with those sad lone blue eye, carrying the weight of something he refused to share. She had always stood beside him. Always fought beside him. And yet, ever since he came back, he made it painfully clear— she wasn’t part of this fight.
And she hated herself that no matter how much she trained, no matter how much stronger she became, it was never enough. He kept pushing forward, further and further ahead, while she was left grasping at the space he left behind.
She had sworn to protect him, just as he had always protected her. But how could she do that when he wouldn’t even let her? How could she stand by while he carried everything alone?
"From the faces you're giving me, guess you already know the answer." Ryu chuckled, pulling her out of her deep thoughts. "Jura might be wrong with you two having a very deep bond. That bald liar tsk tsk."
From the corner of her eyes, she saw his magnetic sand moving like shadows, twisting as it coiled around Yodo's body. Anger surged through her veins like a burning fire, burning away every rational thought that remained. Slowly, she stood up with all her might, no longer feeling the pain in her body.
"Let go of my friend, you moron!"
Ryu barely reacted, his violet eyes glinting with nothing but an intent to kill. The magnetic sand continued to coil, tightening its grip on the impaled body, lifting her further into the air like a lifeless puppet.
“Or what?” he mused in mockery. “What will you do, huh, Uchiha?”
Sarada's vision blurred from pure, burning rage. Heat crawled up her spine, wrapping around her chest, her throat, her eyes. The very ground beneath her feet seemed to pulse in sync with her heartbeat, trembling under an unseen force.
She tilted her head on one side. "I don't know... kill you maybe?"
Ryu's laugh follows, clutching his abdomen like it was the funniest thing he'd heard in his short life. But when Sarada's Mangekyō Sharingan flared to life, the three tomoes blurred together, morphing and warping into something that resembled the sun, locking into Ryu with murderous intent. And in that instant, his laughter had died down.
Ryu stepped forward, watching her with something close to curiosity, as if she were nothing more than a puzzle he had solved too easily. “Hidari was right about you," he murmured, as if speaking to himself. “I’ll admit, I thought he was exaggerating. I mean…” He let out a short chuckle, his smirk widening. “For a girl like you?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” he continued, stretching his arms as his iron sand twisted and coiled around him, forming sharp spears in the air. “I see it now... I underestimated you. Hidari told me you had potential, that you had the blood for something greater.” His smirk deepened. “But I still don’t see it.”
Sarada’s Sharingan burned further. “Shut up.”
Not having any patience left, Ryu released his iron spears in her direction, straight to her heart. However, before they could impale the body of Uchiha Sarada, a four-sphere of void suddenly cracked open in the air, surrounding the girl.
The swirling black mass sucked his iron sand out of existence in one pull, erasing them like dust in the wind.
Ryu froze, eyes wide. “W-What—?!” There was no way that power belonged to her. That wasn’t any jutsu he recognized. That wasn’t anything Uchiha were known for. This girl's power surpasses that of her predecessor.
He locked his eyes on Sarada, and for the first time, fear pierced through his confidence.
Of a sudden, his feet slowly rose off, losing contact with the earth before he could understand what was happening. Instinctively, he shot his iron sand to the ground, trying to stabilize and prevent his body from the force dragging him from one of those spheres, but it was no use.
The force was too much for him, dragging him more than was necessary. He clenched his jaw and slammed more sand into the ground to anchor himself, but it was like trying to fight the tide with broken sticks.
Ryu groaned under his breath, and the moment he looked at her again, his entire body grew weaker.
Uchiha Sarada was floating.
How is she doing that?!
She hovered above the earth, suspended in the air by the sheer force of her new power. Her Mangekyō Sharingan had fully awakened, spinning violently in her eyes, glowing with red and black light. The battlefield below seemed to bend under her presence, her chakra distorting the air like heat over fire.
Ryu only managed to look up, mouth agape, moving, but no sound came out in fear.
“For too long,” she said, her voice resonating heavily with her power, “I averted my gaze.” The words poured from her as if they’d been waiting for years to be spoken. “I convinced myself that becoming Hokage was out of reach.... That I couldn’t stop the things happening around me. That I was helpless. Powerless. And so I looked away.”
Her fists clenched at her sides, the black spears now orbiting her, silent sentinels to her truth. “I was weak. A crybaby." Her eyes glimmered with the pain long buried.
"From the me who felt uneasy by the class rep's feelings."
Sarada remembers how she lied with Sumire, telling her that it actually didn't bother her that someone was having feelings with Boruto. Why would she? They are just friends, nothing more. In fact, she should be happy that at least someone out there had a questionable feeling for her stupid friend.
That's what she kept telling herself, every night, every time she was with him, and every time she saw them together. She acted like it was nothing... but as the days went by, Sumire's confession left a painful feeling deep within her that she didn't want to admit.
Sarada took a deep breath, anchoring herself with the truth that had been buried deep in the safest place of her heart, keeping it secure.
"And from my own feelings for Boruto," she whispered.
There it is... she finally admitted it.
She always felt them... these feelings. Since she was a kid, though she hated to admit it, Sarada wanted Boruto's attention. She wanted him to look at her the same way she looked at him. However, she masked it with scowls and sarcasm by calling him an idiot. She would also act more annoyed when he is around, trying to hide how much she cares and how much her heart is affected by him.
But now... Sarada could finally say it without fear.
She loves that stupid man... she loves Uzuamaki Boruto.
“I rejected all of it. All those emotions. Brushed them off as weakness. Never realizing…” Her gaze locked onto Ryu now, her Mangekyō glowed hotter as the air vibrated with her power.
“…that I was only pushing away the power that was already inside me.”
Below her, Ryu struggled, still being pulled toward one of the black spears orbiting her like a divine storm. His sand groaned under the strain, crumbling by the second.
“QUIT MUMBLING NONSENSE, YOU PSYCHO!!” he roared, eyes wide with panic now, thrashing like a man drowning in a current too strong to fight.
But Sarada didn’t blink at his remark.
She wasn't the old Sarada anymore.
She wasn't the same girl who ran from herself.
Not anymore.
“A-Aargh!!”
Ryu's scream tore through the air as the black sphere dragged him in closer, the gravity from it crushing against his limbs, spine, and lungs. He twisted midair, muscles straining, sand swirling desperately around him, but all his effort was of no use.
His body bent unnaturally, bones groaning under the force as if they were seconds from snapping. The pain wasn’t just physical. It was deeper. Suffocating and drowning him from the inside out.
Dammit! I can't even move a finger!
His eyes bulged as the edges of his vision blurred. His own magnetic sand, once an extension of his will, now floated helplessly around him.
Ryu was suffering in every second that passed, while Uchiha Sarada floated above him like judgment itself. Her eyes burned into him; her expression was blank as she looked down at him, her eyes revealing nothing but pity and anger.
“If becoming Hokage is my dream,” she whispered, her voice low but resonating through the silence, making it seem as though she were speaking right in front of Ryu, “then I need to start by accepting myself.”
A single tear of blood slipped down her cheek from her left eye, a red carving line through the dirt from her face. The true power of those dangerous eyes.
“Mangekyō Sharingan.... Ohirume…”
He writhed inside the gravitational prison, groaning through clenched teeth as the strain of it pulled his joints. He tried again to summon his sand, to rip away from the force, but it was like trying to move through solid stone. He was being devoured slowly, painfully, his body bending inward toward the singularity at the heart of Uchiha Sarada’s power.
“Make it stop,” he rasped. “MAKE IT STOP—!”
Sarada simply watched as the man who had mocked her, hurt her friends, and threatened everything she swore to protect was pulled toward oblivion. And when she finally felt the silence and peace slowly coming back, Sarada exhaled.
The tension broke from her limbs. Her shoulders dropped, and her fingers slackened before she let go, letting gravity reclaim what belonged to him. Her body began to fall as the world around her blurred. Then red-hot strength that had burned through her only seconds ago now drained out like blood from a wound. The sky above her spun in slow motion before her eyes fluttered shut, consciousness slipping like sand through open fingers.
It’s over… finally over...
“SARADA!!”
The sharp and desperate voice tore through the noise in her mind. She wanted to open her eyes, wanted to see who it was, but her body refused to move. The exhaustion and pain were just too much to handle. Everything hurt.
However, before she could hit the ground, strong and familiar arms were able to catch her. “Stay with me,” the voice pleaded, shaking. “Come on, Sarada, open your eyes, please!”
She knew that voice. Even through the haze, the dark, the silence closing in, she knew the voice.
Boruto... y-you idiot.
She wanted to speak, to say something that she was okay, but all she could do was let her head rest against his shoulder, her blood staining his clothes, her pulse faint and fading beneath his touch. She couldn’t tell if the wetness on her cheeks was her own tears or his.
“You’re not allowed to leave me. Not you." His voice trembled again as he whispered against her ear.
With all the strength she had left, Sarada forced her eyes open. The world came into focus in fragmented pieces, blurred around the edges like a broken lens—but there he was. Holding her as his tears fell freely down her face, jaw clenched as if holding back more than just grief.
Gods, she thought, a flicker of dry amusement lighting somewhere deep in her pain-numbed chest. He’s so ugly when he cries. She chuckled with her inside joke, but regretted it immediately when it sent a tearing pain through her abdomen. She gasped sharply as her whole body jerked.
Boruto flinched, tightening his hold. “Don’t move—Sarada, just stay still!”
She ignored him. She had to say it even if it was the last thing she ever said. Slowly and struggling, she parted her lips, trembling as blood clung to the corner of her mouth. “W—welcome home…” Her voice was barely more than a breath. “Baka…Boruto…”
And then her eyes slid shut again, the world fading at the edges, but not before she saw the way his face completely crumbled at those words.
Notes:
If you’re wondering why the Ryu vs Sarada fight here is different from the manga, it’s because this draft has been rotting in my Google Docs for months 😭 and when the manga finally updated with their actual fight… I was too lazy to change it lol. So I just connected the two for my satisfaction hehe 😌
Anyway, THANK YOU for the 300+ kudos 🥹 y’all are the reason I stayed motivated to finish this fic. See you again when I see you. Bye mwah
Chapter 8: Boruto
Summary:
The moment her vision cleared, Boruto instantly saw himself kneeling on the sand as his hands wrapped tightly around Sarada's throat.
“It’s... fine...” she whispered, voice breaking with the effort. “It was... never your fault, Boruto... It’s never... your fa—" Before she could finish what she was trying to say, she gasped for the last time as her eyes fluttered closed. Her hand slowly dropped to her side.
Borusara week Day 6: Distance
Notes:
ngl the moment I saw the BRT TBV sneak peak, I knew I had to move my ass and edit this fic, then update it (also thanks for sui for threatening me in twt lol). If I had waited any longer, I would've ended up rewriting EVERYTHING.
So before I spiral into another round of “should I change this again?” I just hit post. Hope y’all enjoy this version while it still makes sense lol.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Boruto crouched by the edge of the shallow river he discovered while wandering through the forest. The cold current bit against his skin as he splashed water across his face and neck. The place they were holed up in was a narrow gorge tucked behind craggy red cliffs, barely wide enough for the stream that wound between the stone. Sparse grass lined the banks, bent by the wind, and distant ridgelines loomed like ancient beasts sleeping under the dusk-drenched sky. This place was quiet, a great haven for his loud mind.
He let out a low exhale before diving under again. The river wasn’t deep, but it was enough to scrub off the dirt on his skin. The sting of cold water was a welcome shock, reminding him that he needed to breathe.
When he surfaced, gasping slightly from the chill, the first thing he saw the moment he opened his eye was a pair of worn sandals planted squarely on the rock above him. He didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Boruto frowned. “What is it this time, Koji?” he muttered, dragging a palm through his wet hair and letting the water drip down his temples.
He followed the trail of black cape and shadowed features upward until he had to squint against the sun flaring behind the older man’s back. The light cut sharply around Koji’s silhouette, haloing him. Boruto quinted his one eye.
“It’s starting.”
Boruto’s hand stilled in his hair, feeling the cold suddenly feel colder.
The dirt path leading toward Oruchimaru's place was uneven, lines with scattered pebbles and dry brush that cracked beneath their boots. A thin breeze tugged at the tall grass along the ridgelines, carrying the scent of the nearby roses from a distance.
Boruto walked fast, half-dressed in his pants, and with steam still rising faintly from his skin as his damp hair clung to his forehead. He was barely through pulling his long-sleeved shirt over his head before he started talking.
"Tell me everything you know about the Shinju attacking Suna," he asked in urgency.
Koji walked ahead, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his cape. "It's going well... for now," he finally said, not looking back, voice tight. “They’ve managed to separate the pair.”
Boruto shoved his arm into his clothes as they moved. “What happens next?”
“Konohamaru is keeping Matsuri busy. Ideally, Sarada and the other three will take down Ryu first.”
At her name, Boruto’s shoulders tensed involuntarily. He didn’t say anything, but it was obvious from his face. He's worried. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in her; he knew how strong she was. Stronger than most. But that didn’t stop the twist in his chest. That didn’t stop the fear.
“And then?” he asked, buttoning his clothes now.
“Then they regroup with Konohamaru and take down Matsuri together.”
Boruto nodded slowly, the gears in his head turning. “What’s the chance they fail?” he asked, pulling his black overcoat on. “Percentage-wise.”
“Not that high.”
Boruto stopped walking. “Don’t lie to me, Koji,” he said quietly, voice dangerously low. His lone eye bore to the man, and if gaze could kill, Koji must be dead by now. “I asked for a specific number.”
The older man stops walking, staring ahead at nothing. "It doesn't matter," he said lowly, then finally looked at him over his shoulder, glaring back at him. "Either way, you're not to go... Boruto."
Boruto’s jaw clenched. The fabric of his cape tightened around his shoulders, fist curling at his side. His wet hair dripped onto the dusty ground in a slow rhythm that felt like a countdown in his ears.
“And why would I do that, Koji?”
Koji didn’t answer right away. He just shook his head and exhaled like he’d expected this reaction. He always did when it came to her... that Uchiha girl.
“Boruto,” he began, still not turning, “I know you’re worried about your friend, but if you take part in this battle, Jura will not just watch." The name alone dropped like a stone in the pit of Boruto’s gut.
“And if that happens…” Koji’s voice thinned to something cold and certain. “You’ll die this time.”
For a moment, Boruto just stood there, stunned. He knew there were a huge number of them dying, but saying it in his face still left him in despair. He blinked, his lips parting slightly as if to say something, but nothing came out. His heart was racing now, not from panic, but from that old, creeping helplessness he thought he’d long since buried.
The old man finally turned to face him, expression hard. “You are the one we cannot lose in this situation,” he said with a weight on every word. “I know it’s hard. But I need you to understand.”
Boruto looked away, his throat tight, his thoughts a swirl of fear and anger. It's hard being this useless in times like these.
Boruto’s fingers remained loosely curled around the hilt of his sword, feeling the cold metal against his skin as he restlessly rubbed it with his thumb. His body was in Oruchimaru's old place, but his mind was far from where his feet were planted. It was on the battlefield with them... with her.
He tried not to imagine the worst, but it kept creeping in anyway into his mind anyway. Flashes of blood, someone falling, Mitsuki's body limp in the sand. Who was injured? Who was dying? Were they buying time… or simply losing it? He's almost completely losing his mind for thinking and worrying.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Koji. The man sat still looking at the distant. Boruto had seen that look enough times to know he was talking to Eida via his toad.
“What happened now?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Koji didn’t answer immediately. His lips pressed into a stern line before he exhaled sharply and turned toward him. “Not good,” he said in frustration. “Konohamaru was about to be absorbed by Matsuri.”
The words landed like a punch to the gut. Boruto blinked, barely able to keep his voice collected. “What about Sarada?” he asked, needing to ask. Her name left his mouth like a blade tearing through his chest. “And the others? Can they take down Ryu?”
Koji's face was serious, and it was enough for him to know that it was not good.
“They’re holding him for now. But it’s too early to say how this ends. They’re not in any position to help Konohamaru.”
Boruto was left unable to utter a word. His jaw tensed, throat tight, eyes fixed somewhere far beyond the dusty path they stood on. He could see it all too clearly; his friends standing between life and death, the sand turning red, and Sarada... bleeding to death.
I should be there!
"Boruto." The older man looked at him with a knowing gaze. "I know you want to rush over there, but don’t. Now’s not the time.”
“I know,” Boruto muttered sharply as he swept his glare to him. “Stop telling me over and over again. It makes me feel pathetic.”
He hated the sound of his own words. He hated how helpless Koji made him feel, like a caged bird waiting for the war to come to him, where all he could do was wait while his friends bled for the future he was supposed to protect.
His hands clenched at his sides, trembling with the effort of restraint. But it wasn’t just anger coursing through him, but fear.
Fear of losing her.
The last image of her, of smiling Sarada, burned into his mind. He remembered the last time they spoke in Suna, right before he left. She had handed him a bottle of water and a bento she had made with that half-smile she always wore when she was trying to hide how sad she was.
"I will miss you," he whispered with a crooked smile.
Sarada rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything while brushing the invisible dust from his cape, fingers lingering just a second too long. He watched her carefully, memorizing every twitch of her lips and every flick of her lashes. She didn’t want him to go. He could see it all over her face, even if she refused to say it.
So he leaned in, catching her by surprise with a quick kiss on her cheek. "I said, I will miss you."
Her breath caught, eyes widening. “I—”
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, already stepping away. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself, yeah?”
She looked down, flustered and maybe a little red in the face. “I won’t wait for you, baka-Boruto.”
"Ryu has finally been defeated."
Boruto snapped back to the present as the strong wind coming out from nowhere whip against his face. He closed his one eye, and the soft light of memory was gone, replaced by the tensed, dark place he was. He blinked once and twice, trying to process the sentence Koji just uttered.
“What?” Boruto breathed, taking a step closer.
Koji nodded, finally glancing at him. “Taken down by Sarada. She unleashed a new power. Something beyond anything Eida or I expected.”
Boruto’s heart stopped for a second. Was it her Mangekyo Sharingan that I saw? He turned his face away from Koji, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood. Relief and dread mixed together in his stomach.
“And if you had intervened,” Koji added, “Sarada may not have awakened it on her own.”
Then Koji kept talking. “It’s a shame about Yodo… but her death wasn’t in vain. Her sacrifice was a major contributing factor to the outcome. It couldn’t be helped.”
The words hit Boruto. Yodo is… dead?
He whipped around to face Koji, eyes blazing. “Wait a second, Koji!” he growled. “Answer me truthfully— was there any chance Sarada’s Mangekyō could’ve awakened without someone dying?”
Koji didn't even bother to look concerned about Yodo's death. “It’s possible, but highly unlikely. Loss, especially one that personal, creates the emotional trauma necessary—”
“You knew she could die. And you didn’t say anything. You kept it from me!” His fists clenched.
“She was one of many variables,” Koji replied evenly. “And I determined it was best not to tell you. Our current conversation proves me right. If I had told you, you would’ve been there in seconds.”
Boruto stared at him, chest rising and falling too fast. Yodo hadn’t been his closest friend, not in the same way she was Sarada’s, but she was an amazing person. She had this sharpness to her and a quick tongue, always two steps ahead of everyone in the room and making sure they knew it. And that’s probably why she and Sarada became friends. Sarada could match that kind of energy where she could look her straight in her eyes without flinching.
He and Yodo were not close, but he respected her. Hell, he admired her. And now she was gone just like that, making his blood boil. Yodo was someone who didn’t deserve to be treated like a stepping stone. She wasn’t just a sacrifice, but a person... a friend.
And if her death was the price for Sarada’s Mangekyō Sharingan, if all this was some carefully calculated push to unlock something that powerful… then someone had made that decision knowing she’d be the cost. And Sarada, if she ever found out, he didn’t know what that would do to her.
Boruto clenched his fists until his knuckles. “And what about Master Konohamaru?” he pressed. “Does he even have a chance against Matsuri? What about Sarada? What happened to her after the fight?”
Koji didn’t respond.
“Answer me, Koji!”
Still silence. Until Koji finally turned to him. “You listen to me now, Boruto. Jura is connected to all the Divine Trees through shared senses. If you appear before Matsuri, even for a second, Jura will feel it. He will know. And he will seize you. I’ve seen every permutation. It always ends the same.”
Boruto’s breathing hitched; this was his final straw. Something inside him snapped, and in the blink of an eye, the air snapped with a huge amount of chakra, and in seconds, he vanished completely.
"That idiot! He's going to ruin everything!!"
The moment he had taken down Matsuri in a few seconds, saving Konohamaru from the brink of death, Boruto didn't waste any time and used his Flying Raijin once more and vanished again, leaving only the dust curling in his place.
He appeared in the middle of a ruined clearing with the air heavy with the smell of fresh blood. The wind howled through the wreckage, but all Boruto could hear was the deafening sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.
He swept his gaze all around, and his breath caught the moment he saw the three stilled bodies sprawled all over the place. It was Mitsuki, Araya, and... Yodo who looked pale. Boruto wanted to check them one by one, at least feel their pulse, but he needed to see her first and make sure she was fine.
“Sarada?!” he shouted, already moving, his eyes scanning frantically, but no signs of Sarada could be seen or heard.
His lungs tightened as his breath came in gasps, panic rising like bile in his throat. He turned full circle, his lone eye wild, searching— no, begging to all the gods, old and new, to let him see her.
Every heartbeat without her felt like a blade sinking deeper into his chest. The world around him blurred into static. He could hear nothing but the echo of her name in his head, over and over, each syllable a scream.
Where was she?!
She was supposed to be there. She had won! She should be here! She must be alive, looking at her with an unimpressed look, despite all the injuries she has taken, for arriving too late. She was supposed to be yelling at him for coming here at all.
But all Boruto heard was pure silence... killing him more.
"SARADA?!" he shouted once more, hoping to hear her answer this time.
But still no answer.
Every second, it felt like the air itself was turning very heavy inside his lungs, pressing down on him with every second she didn't show herself. He couldn't breathe properly as his mind race with visions of her lying somewhere alone, unable to answer, and life fading before he could reach her.
Boruto tried to shake them away, but they clung to him like a curse.
He’d never known fear like this, not even when he lost everything.
He could feel it. The feeling of something inside him was coming apart, slowly and painfully, with every second that passed without hearing her voice.
“Sarada...” He whispered it this time, more a prayer than a call, a last breath of hope before he would shatter completely.
In the middle of his despair, a faint flicker of chakra from a distant, faint enough to miss if he was not using his sensing ability. Instantly, his head snapped upward, and his world narrowed to a single, falling shape. Everything else ceased to exist,
Boruto knew it was her.
“SARADA!!” His voice tore from his throat, desperate and delighted to finally see her.
She's alive!
Without thinking for any second longer, Boruto flew in a flash of lightning, splitting the air where he once stood, and in the next second, he was already beneath Sarada, arms flung wide to catch her.
Instantly, the weight of her body slammed into his chest and drove them both into the earth. A cloud of dust exploded around them as his knees his the ground hard. Yet he didn't feel the pain. All he could feel and worry about was her limp body staying still in his arms.
Her jacket was torn to shreds as her blood had soaked through the fabric and into her sleeves. Her skin burned with a sickly heat, but her lips were already turning blue. She wasn’t moving at all.
He gathered her close, arms locked tightly around her, as if sheer willpower could stitch her soul back in place. “Stay with me,” he choked out, pressing his forehead to hers, eyes clenched shut against the sting of tears. “Come on, Sarada... open your eyes, please…”
He couldn't breathe or speak properly. He held her tighter, hands shaking, terrified that if he loosened even a finger, she’d slip away for good. His heart was loud, beating so hard he thought it might shatter his ribs.
“Y-You’re not allowed to leave me,” he whispered. “Not you, too.”
Eventually, he felt her breath faintly hitched, and Boruto thought he imagined it. His pulse ceased in his veins. Even the world seemed to go still, the wind pausing, the dust hanging midair like it, too, was waiting.
Then slowly, her eyes twitched and at last fluttered open.
And Boruto forgot how to breathe. His throat tightened, and his vision blurring. He didn’t even realize he was shaking until he tried to speak and nothing came out but a strangled whisper.
Then her face twitched… and she let out this tiny, broken sound. It didn’t even register at first. Then he realized she was laughing. Through everything, this stubborn, foolish, infuriating girl was laughing.
He blinked at her, stunned, until she winced. Her body arched slightly in his arms as she such in a deep breath. Boruto panicked and immediately pulled her closer.
“Don’t move—Sarada, just stay still!” he said, almost shouted.
Of course, she didn't listen. Much like him, Sarada was also hardheaded. Her lips moved slowly, uttering every syllable with her lips shaking. He leaned in closer as he tried to head her.
“W…welcome home…” she whispered. “Baka…Boruto…”
His heart stopped as he stared at her face, eyes slowly closing shut again, and in the next second, his face relaxed against his shoulder, body limping once more as her breath slowed.
"Sarada?" He shook her body gentle, then harder, but she didn't stir. "Please, open your eyes. Sarada?"
His hands moved to cradle her face, brushing the blood from her cheek. Her skin was cold, and her breathing was shallow.
“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no… please.”
His heart rumbled in his chest. He pressed his forehead to hers again, as if his warmth could will her back to him, but it wasn't helping at all. So wth shaking limbs, Boruto slid his arms beneath her legs and back, cradling her gently to his chest. I need to get her help. I need to get her to a doctor. Now!
When he found his balance, he turned around and took his first step. But before his feet could touch the solid earth, a brutal force slammed into him before he could even sense it.
Fuck!
Boruto’s world went white with pain as his body was thrown through the air before crashing into the sand, drifting, his shoulder grinding through the ground before he tumbled to a stop.
“Sarada!” he choked her name while coughing a blood. She slipped from his arms, hitting the ground and sprawling a few meters away from him.
Boruto sucked in a ragged breath, feeling the sharp and searing pain flairing through his side. He knew that he must have broken at least two ribs or more.
Fuck that!
He pushed himself up slowly, one trembling hand pressing to his side. Blood soaked through his shirt. His vision doubled as the pain wracked through him. But that wasn’t what stopped him cold, but the voice coming from him.
“Good to see you again, Ōtsutsuki Boruto.”
Boruto’s eye lifted slowly, and he saw Jura standing with the sun behind him, framing his terrifying form like some god. His mere presence bent the air around him with pressure that made it hard to breathe properly.
Jura looked straight at him, eyes void of emotion other than amusement. The kind you give a cornered animal before you cut its throat.
Boruto’s fingers dug into the sand as he forced himself upright, spitting blood. He looked past Jura and saw Sarada lying crumpled in the sand, and all Boruto could feel was anger.
“You picked the wrong time,” Boruto muttered, looking back at him with intent to kill.
Jura smiled faintly. “On the contrary,” he said, stepping forward. “This is exactly the moment I’ve been waiting for.” His weird feet crunched softly against the sand as he stepped forward, calm as the eye of a storm.
Boruto was left in silence, pressure was eating him slowly as he continued to hear Sarada's shallow breaths from the distant that were slowly fading. In every second she lay there was a second closer to him losing her forever.
Jura stopped a few feet away, hands folded behind his back. "You should've listened to that man, Otsutsuki Boruto. You should’ve stayed hidden."
Boruto only managed to clench his teeth as he staggered upright, blood running from the corner of his mouth. I don’t have time for this.
Jura’s gaze sharpened. “But instead, you ran straight toward your end. All for her.” He tilted his head slightly toward Sarada’s body. “How poetic.”
"You had your little rebellion... and now it ends."
His one good eye narrowed. “No,” he growled. “You don’t get to decide that.” He stood to his full height, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and took a breathe that hurt like hell. "It's you who will end."
Jura raised a brow as Boruto vanished in a flash. In the space between breaths, he was already mid-air with his sword in his hand as his face was set, every ounce of pain channeling into one strike.
Jura’s eyes flicked up, just once, as if already calculating the outcome. There it is, he thought. The desperation of the dying. With one smooth motion, Jura raised his arm and steel emt resistance. He had caught Boruto’s sword between two fingers like it was nothing more than a falling twig. Boruto’s eye widened in disbelief.
Jura’s lips curved into a ghost of a scowl. "Too slow."
Then he slammed his palm into Boruto’s chest. A shockwave rippled through the sand as Boruto was sent hurtling backward, tumbling across the ground until he slid to a stop, coughing more blood and lungs screaming for air.
But he held his ground. Shaking and panting, he wiped the blood from his lips and blurred forward again for another swing of his blade to strike, angling for Jura's throat, but it never connected. But before it could land, dark wooden spikes erupted from the ground, impossibly fast and impaled him to his shoulder, thigh, and side.
Boruto choked on a cry, blood spraying from his mouth as he was suspended for a split second in the air, impaled like a ragdoll before he yanked himself free, tearing his own flesh to land hard on the sand.
"Wood Release..." Jura whispered, mocking him. "Isn’t that what your kind used to say? Announcing your jutsu like some sort of performance act." He gave a dry chuckle, wiping the invisible dust from his shoulder. “I thought I’d try it out. Bit dramatic, though.”
Borutp cried out in pain, stumbling back, but couldn't stop. He needs to end him. With a growl, he clapped his hands together, and the wind howled, answering his call.
"Gale Palm." A violent burst of wind chakra slammed into Jura’s frame. Then Boruto followed it with another attack, weaving signs rapidly, and a blinding bolt of chakra surged toward Jura. "Lightning Style: Thunderclap Spear!"
Only for the man to lift a single hand and tanked all of that before dispersing into the air.
Damn it!
Boruto’s body screamed at him to stop, every nerve pleading for mercy, but his heart wouldn’t listen. He roared, lunging forward with his chakra channeling into his fist, and slammed it into Jura's chest. The blow hit and finally sent the monster several feet across the battlefield.
But Jura only smiled, and in the next second, he was in front of Boruto again. The retaliation came like a god’s judgment. One clean strike and his body folded around his fist, sending Boruto flying meters through the air and smashing into the sand so hard the ground caved under the force. Blood spattered from his mouth as he coughed and rolled.
N-No... not yet. I'm not dying yet.
With a flicker, he vanished, reappearing from the side, dragging his sword behind him. His vision blurred. Sweat and blood dripped into his one working eye. His lungs burned, his ribs screamed, but he kept going.
He struck again. And again. And again.... and again.
But Jura never even broke a sweat.
The last hit of Boruto's blade, he caught it easily, smiled, and backhanded him across the face. Boruto hit the sand so hard that it cracked. A dune collapsed over him, burying him under. He lay still for a moment, feeling his body limping and trembling with what little energy it had left to keep him conscious.
His skin was split in too many places to count. His left leg was twisted at a grotesque angle. One eye was swollen shut, blood seeped from his nose, his mouth, his ears. Even his breath sounded broken and shallow.
“Is that it?” he asked, stepping closer, the sand barely shifting under his feet. “Was that the great last stand of Otsutsuki Boruto?" He didn’t bother hiding the disappointment in his voice.
"Lend me your body... Boruto..."
Give it up, Momoshiki. I'm not letting you!
With a groan, Boruto rolled onto his back, the world tilting wildly around him. The sun burned down through his half-lidded eye, but he was too tired to lift a finger to block it. His chest barely rose, each breath a rattle of shattered ribs and torn muscle. He stared up at the sky like it was the last thing he’d ever see.
Ahh... let this end. I'm already tired. Let this end.
“You came here for love. For honor. For hope.” He knelt beside the buried ruin of Boruto’s body, cocking his head like he was inspecting a failed lab experiment. “And in the end, none of it mattered. You’re still just a boy with borrowed power, bleeding out in the dirt.”
"Give up now... You are nothing without my power but a shadow of a God you'll never become."
Shut up, man, Boruto thought weakly, I'm trying to keep my life in here, y'know.
Jura's smile returned. “Go on then. Give up. Let the sand take you. You've done enough damage for one life.”
Boruto’s lips twitched into a bitter smile. He had never felt so pathetic and weak like this before.
"Let it go and lend me your body... and I promise you victory!" Momoshiki's distant voice came again.
"You’ll survive. She will survive. But only if you give in.”
Boruto clenched his jaw. Or tried to. How dare he use Sarada on him?!
“Don’t you want to live?”
Silence...
“Don’t you want to protect her?”
Boruto’s heart skipped because, yes, he badly wanted to. He wanted to protect Sarada even if it cost his life. That's how important she is to him.
“Then stop pretending you’re strong enough to do this alone.”
His vision blurred as blood continued to pool behind his teeth. I’m sorry, Sarada… And then he listened. Boruto finally let go.
His vision dimmed. His limbs turned to stone as his grip on his consciousness slipped, bit by bit, like sand falling through an open palm until the world went black and he was trapped in nothingness.
A sudden, unfamiliar pulse of familiar power tearing through the numbness like lightning through water. It surged up his arms, down his spine, flooding every muscle, every nerve. But he couldn’t move to stop it.
His body stood without him. He felt the burn of his muscles, the twisting of his wrist, the tightening of his jaw, but it wasn’t him doing it. It was like watching through a pane of glass he couldn’t break. A prisoner behind his own eyes. Yes, eyes. Miraculously, his blind eye can finally see more clearer than before.
A terrifying calmness settled over his body as he felt the violent chakra, pure of endless anger, surging all over his body as he smiled at Jura. No, more like, as Momoshiki smiled at Jura.
“Tch… How dare someone as low as you lay hands on my vessel?” The sneer curled across his face as Momoshiki rolled his shoulders like they had been waiting to be used properly.
Jura’s own expression remained blank as he watched Boruto's battered body suddenly standing tall with a new, stronger chakra coiling around him.
"I was wondering how long you’d stay quiet,” Jura said coolly. He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing with interest. “Nice to see you again, brother.”
Momoshiki chuckled mockingly before he vanished as the ground where he was standing exploded.
In the blink of an eye, he was already on Jura, faster than Boruto had ever moved, faster than the eye could follow. His hand slammed forward with a blast, sending Jura back through the sand. But he quickly recovered from the attack and surged toward Momoshiki.
Time meant nothing while he was trapped in that space... an endless, weightless darkness. Boruto watched through the cage of his own mind as his body moved without him, throwing punches, taking blows, bleeding power that didn’t belong to him. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream, couldn’t even close his eyes. He just felt each hit landed on his body and every bone being fractured under Jura's counter strike.
It was like watching himself die in pieces.
Then, without warning, the darkness began to vanish, all at once, before it was swallowed by an explosion of blinding light that seared through the silence like a second sun.
Boruto winced, or thought he did. But there was no body to flinch with. Just the overwhelming sense that everything was changing. And unexpectedly, the ground beneath him, if there had even been one, disintegrated, and the moment later, he was falling into the bottomless pit of nothingness —
A loud gasp tore from his mouth as eyes flew open. His back arched sharply off the mattress as air ripped off into his lungs as if he'd been drowning. Cold sweats clung to his skin as his chest role and fell in a sharp, ragged burst.
His heart was racing as he untangled himself from the sheets that seemed to restrain him. He scrambled up the bed, back pressing into the headboard as he looked around with wild, wide eyes.
He was in his old room. The pale white light of the moon spilled through the blinds, painting striped across the ceiling.
From the surroundings, his eyes drifted to his pale hands that trembled violently. He clenched them into a fist, trying to stop from shaking, but it didn't work at all. His throat closed up, and with a shudder, he slapped himself across the face to wake himself up from this stupid illusion. Momoshiki was just trying to weaken him to let himself stay longer inside his body.
One, twice, and countless more, but he was still in his room. Was it all a dream? His hand rose once more to slap himself again, but a soft, familiar sound tore from the silent that made his hand stop.
It came from just outside his door, through the small gap at the bottom where a sliver of warm orange light bled into the room.
His breath caught in his throat and he quickly stood and ran as fast as he could to where the voice came from. Feet slapping against the wooden floor, he threw open the door and dashed into the hallway, chasing that warmth like it might vanish if he blinked.
And the moment he arrived, he stopped. Frozen at the threshold of their living room. The glow of the kitchen light bathed everything around him, but his were only fixed on the person standing at the stove, humming softly as she stirred a pot.
His chest rose and fell in tiny, shallow gasps as he stared at her, fingers curling against the doorframe and nails digging into the wood as his mind screamed that this couldn’t be real. That it wasn’t fair. That it hurt more than any wound Jura had ever given him.
Tears blurred his vision, uninvited. He wanted to run to her. He wanted to fall to his knees and bury his face in her side like he used to when he was small. But all he could do was stand there, watching as he was shaking, and wondering if he took one step forward... would she disappear?
Hinata’s humming faded as she stirred the pot one last time, setting the ladle aside with a gentle sound, and turned. Their eyes instantly met.
“Boruto?” she said, softly wiping her hands on her apron. "What are you doing here? You're sweating all over. Are you sick, son?"
His breath hitched in his throat, chest collapsing in on itself as emotion surged up too fast, too violently. His legs buckled before he even realized it, and he dropped to his knees right there in the hallway, shaking as a sob cracked loose from somewhere deep in his chest.
“M-Mommy…” he whispered.
Hinata’s smile faltered. She stepped forward immediately, concern flashing across her face as she knelt in front of him, reaching out without hesitation. Her warm hands cupped his cheeks gently, thumbs wiping his tears he hadn't realized were falling.
“W-What happened, Boruto?!” Hinata’s voice broke with panic as she cupped his face, brushing the sweat-damp strands of golden hair away with trembling hands. “You’re scaring me! Did you get hurt from your mission? A stomachache?! Tell me,” she pleaded, eyes wide and brimming. “Tell mommy what you feel, and I’ll do everything I can to help you.”
Boruto could only stare at her, into her eyes. Searching for any signs that all of it was just an illusion and he was just playing with him. Please, he begged silently. Please be real. But the longer he looked, the harder it was to doubt.
"N-Nothing," croaked, barely audible. “I... I just missed you being here."
Hinata blinked once, then again. And just like that, her expression shifted. From panic to annoyance. She sighed, exhaling deeply, and slapped him lightly on the shoulder.
“You silly boy!” she scolded, pulling him against her. “You made your mother worry for nothing!”
Boruto let himself fall forward, forehead pressing to her chest like he used to when he was young, hands clutching at the fabric of her clothes. His body trembled from a kind of pain that only came from missing something you thought was lost forever.
“Sorry…” he murmured, his voice muffled against her. Hinata only held him tighter.
Hinata held him for a long time, her arms wrapped securely around his trembling frame, rocking him gently the way she used to when he was small and waking from nightmares. Her lavender scent wrapped around him like a blanket. It was too vivid, too perfect.
“I made your favorite,” she whispered, her fingers moving gently through his hair. “Tonkatsu. I had a feeling you'd come home tonight… and you did.”
Boruto’s breath caught again. She made him his favorite. He hadn’t heard those words in so long. And gods knows, it was everything he ever wanted. For now, he just wanted to stay in this moment a little longer. Just a little longer.
Because if this were a dream…
Then it was the kindest lie he’d ever been told.
He pulled back just enough to look at her face again. She looked a little older now with a few lines at the corners of her eyes, very visible when she smiles. But despite all of that, she was still very beautiful in his eyes.
Boruto swallowed hard. “You really made it?”
She nodded with a small laugh, standing and tugging his hand. “Come on. It’s still warm. I even made the spicy dipping sauce you like… the one you always said Dad was too much of a wimp to eat.”
He let her pull him to his feet, his legs still weak beneath him. He passed a framed photo on the wall where they are all smiling. He paused, staring at it.
Hinata turned when she realized he had stopped, her expression puzzled. "Boruto?"
He reluctantly tore his eyes away. “I’m coming.”
They both sat down at the table together. She poured orange juice into his favorite cup and placed the plate of steamed tonkatsu in front of him, golden and perfect. Boruto stared at it for a moment too long. It's been too long to had his mother's cooking again. Other than Thunder Burger, her cooking was the thing he loved to eat.
"Thank you for the food," he muttered, looking up at her.
Hinata only smiled and reached across the table to pinch his cheek lightly. "You're welcome. Now, dig in before it gets cold."
Boruto gave a faint, tired smile and lifted his chopsticks to taste it, and the moment the tonkatsu touched his tongue, his eyes instantly stung. God, he thought. I missed this.
The taste wasn't just food, but the memories it brought to him. The late dinners were waiting for him when he came back from the mission too late. The taste of her mother taking care of him when he was sick. It was his mother’s love in edible form, and for one second, it almost made him forget the wreckage of the life he came from.
"So?” Hinata asked, watching him expectantly. “How is it?”
He swallowed and forced down the thick knot rising in his throat. “Good as always, Mom.”
She beamed. “Aww, thank you! I was worried I might’ve lost my touch.”
Boruto chuckled softly, setting his chopsticks down for a second. “No chance.”
Hinata poured a little more juice into her own cup and sat back down, her expression softening. “Tell me,” she said gently. “How have you been? Truly.”
He hesitated, looking down into his plate, then back at her face. The kind of face that always read him too easily. Hinata tilted her head slightly, studying him the way only a mother could. The way that made Boruto shift uncomfortably. The last thing he wanted to do was shatter this peace.
So he told the truth. Well, some of it. He knew very well that if he told her the truth about the things that happened over the past three years, it would ruin his mother, and Boruto doesn't want that.
“I’ve been... holding up,” he said after a long narration of his life. “Things haven’t been easy. A lot’s changed. But I’m still here... alive and kicking." He gave her a forced laughed.
Hinata studied him for a long moment, then reached across the table to place a hand gently over his. And for a second, Boruto wanted to withdraw his hand. Boruto stiffened slightly at the contact. He wasn’t used to this anymore. He wasn’t used to needing this after what happened in the past. But when she gave his hands a soft, reassuring squeeze, something in his chest cracked.
“I’m proud of you,” she whispered, fingers gently tightening around his. "You've grown into someone... stronger than I could've imagined."
He looked up, startled by the sudden weight of her tone.
"I'm so, so proud of you as your mother," she said again, firmer this time, as if she needed him to believe it. “Not because of what you can do, or how powerful you’ve become, but because you kept going.”
Her eyes shimmered now with tears and so much emotion she couldn't hide any longer even when everything was crumbling. "Even when you were hurting and alone... you never stopped moving forward."
Boruto looked down, jaw clenched. Her words hit too close to places he didn’t like to visit. The part of him that had doubted every choice, every sacrifice. The part that still questioned whether he’d done enough. Whether he was enough.
“You didn’t give up,” she said. “Even when it would’ve been easier to.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Hinata smiled, brushing his bangs from his face the way she used to when he was small.
“Your father would be proud, too. So proud. But me? I’ve always been. Since the beginning.”
You’ve suffered enough, Boruto.”His breath caught. It was just a whisper, but it hit deeper than any blade. He looked up, and Hinata’s eyes were on him, fixed and full of that same unconditional love she’d always given him, even when he didn’t think he deserved it.
“For three years,” she continued, " you carried everything alone. Pain. Guilt. Fear. You lost everything, and I wasn’t even here to protect you.” Her smile trembled. “You fought so hard. Endured more than anyone should’ve. And you're still fighting.”
Boruto clenched his jaw, looked away. He was hurting inside, but doesn't wanna show it to her. But Hinata reached for him again, cupping his face, her thumb brushing the corner of his eye.
“I know you're tired. Very, very tired. And I know how much you want to stay here and rest... where it's safe. Where I’m still with you.”
Boruto’s eyes filled, throat tightening.
“But Sarada needs you.”
That name. The mention of her name twisted everything in him.
“She needs you, Boruto.”
He shook his head, suddenly afraid. “W-What? M-Mom… don’t joke like that.”
Hinata didn’t smile this time. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his.
“Wake up, Boruto.”
“No…” he whispered, voice shaking. “N-No, please… don’t go. D-Don't leave me again. I still need you.”
“Wake up.”
He reached for her hands, but the warmth was already fading. He turned his head toward the hallway, toward the photo on the wall, and the light above it started flickering, and for a second, his own face had faded out completely.
He looked back at her, but the light around her was starting to dissolve, like ash in the wind. The room blurred, colors running like water off a canvas. The scent of food vanished. The soft light from the kitchen flickered into the cold gray.
“Mom—” he cried, lunging forward to reach her, but his fingers only ghosted across her cheek, and then, she was gone... forever. Everything he had known and missed suddenly vanished.
The moment her vision cleared, Boruto instantly saw himself kneeling on the sand as his hands wrapped tightly around Sarada's throat.
His vision slammed into focus, looking straight to her rimmed, red eyes, and in pain. Her hands clutched weakly at his wrist, trembling violently, not in resistance… but in acceptance. She wasn’t fighting him. She just looked up at him with a faint, broken smile on her bloody lips.
“Y-You’re finally back…” she whispered, voice barely audible as her breath rattled through her chest. “It's n-nice to see you again f-for... for the last time…”
Boruto’s breath caught, his body seizing as his mind screamed to let go of her, but the moment he tried to pull it back, his hands wouldn't move. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling over as he trembled.
“No… no, no. Please, no."
"You fool!” Momoshiki’s venomous voice screamed in his skull. “I had you. I almost had full control. All it would’ve taken was one more second, and you gave it up for her. That Uchiha girl ruined everything!”
Boruto didn’t listen. All he could do was desperately try to pry his hands off her throat as he sob. His body was shaking, tears streaming down his cheeks, dripping onto her pale face.
“I-I’m sorry,” he choked, gasping between sobs. “I’m sorry for leaving you again... I’m sorry for being weak... for not protecting you. I-I’m sorry... Sarada... I’m so, so sorry...” Each word shattered as it left him, barely clinging to breath.
His tears fell freely now, rolling down her cheeks and mixing with the blood and dirt that clung to her skin. But Sarada only smiled. Even now, she smiled. Her hand, shaking, rose to his face. Her fingers touched his cheek gently, then moved to wipe his tears with the last of her strength.
“It’s... fine...” she whispered, voice breaking with the effort. “It was... never your fault, Boruto... It’s never... your fa—" Before she could finish what she was trying to say, she gasped for the last time as her eyes fluttered closed. Her hand slowly dropped to her side.
Boruto stared, wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open as if the rest of the world had vanished around him. Then his gluttural, desperate scream tore from his throat as he ripped his hand away from her, stumbling back like her body had burned him.
“SARADA!!”
He crumpled to his knees beside her, pulling her to his chest as his sobs broke loose again. His tears and spit soaked into her hair as he rocked her body against him, muttering apologies over and over again.
Notes:
Chat, did i cooked this update? pls let me have your insights tysm!
Anyway, Happy Mother's Day to the best mother, Uzumaki Hinata!! Thank you for giving Boruto to us mehehehe
Pages Navigation
thakumira on Chapter 1 Sat 14 Dec 2024 12:49PM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Sat 14 Dec 2024 04:23PM UTC
Comment Actions
bbee7117 on Chapter 1 Sat 14 Dec 2024 06:16PM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Thu 19 Dec 2024 10:16AM UTC
Comment Actions
mar (Guest) on Chapter 1 Sat 14 Dec 2024 07:32PM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Thu 19 Dec 2024 10:10AM UTC
Comment Actions
Apex_Calibre on Chapter 1 Sun 15 Dec 2024 12:45AM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Thu 19 Dec 2024 10:16AM UTC
Comment Actions
Nikolaevna05 on Chapter 1 Sun 15 Dec 2024 08:41AM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Thu 19 Dec 2024 10:07AM UTC
Comment Actions
FlowerFlower94 on Chapter 1 Sun 15 Dec 2024 09:21AM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Thu 19 Dec 2024 10:15AM UTC
Comment Actions
SwanseeH on Chapter 1 Sun 15 Dec 2024 04:35PM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Thu 19 Dec 2024 10:01AM UTC
Comment Actions
SwanseeH on Chapter 1 Thu 19 Dec 2024 10:07AM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Thu 19 Dec 2024 10:11AM UTC
Comment Actions
SkyDawn471 on Chapter 1 Tue 17 Dec 2024 03:12PM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Thu 19 Dec 2024 10:00AM UTC
Comment Actions
Aiedogawa27 on Chapter 1 Fri 20 Dec 2024 07:49PM UTC
Comment Actions
jisoo (Guest) on Chapter 1 Fri 10 Jan 2025 05:06PM UTC
Comment Actions
Amee_aneea on Chapter 1 Mon 13 Jan 2025 09:23PM UTC
Comment Actions
Amee_aneea on Chapter 1 Mon 13 Jan 2025 09:24PM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Fri 17 Jan 2025 08:09PM UTC
Comment Actions
Sh677 on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Mar 2025 03:36AM UTC
Comment Actions
windflow on Chapter 1 Wed 16 Apr 2025 03:41PM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 1 Thu 17 Apr 2025 05:53PM UTC
Comment Actions
Y (Guest) on Chapter 1 Thu 01 May 2025 02:02PM UTC
Comment Actions
chikilipis on Chapter 2 Thu 16 Jan 2025 01:23PM UTC
Comment Actions
xExelx on Chapter 2 Thu 16 Jan 2025 06:10PM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 2 Fri 17 Jan 2025 08:08PM UTC
Comment Actions
mar (Guest) on Chapter 2 Thu 16 Jan 2025 06:26PM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 2 Fri 17 Jan 2025 08:07PM UTC
Comment Actions
Lou (Guest) on Chapter 2 Thu 16 Jan 2025 06:38PM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 2 Fri 17 Jan 2025 08:07PM UTC
Comment Actions
Aiedogawa27 on Chapter 2 Fri 17 Jan 2025 08:15AM UTC
Comment Actions
Dewhehe1 on Chapter 2 Fri 17 Jan 2025 08:06PM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation