Chapter Text
The moment stretched—not in time, but in awareness.
He felt the shift before he understood it, a quiet collapse of distance that had nothing to do with space. Thought no longer arrived in sequence. Intent surfaced fully formed, complete with execution already accounted for. Kawaki’s aggression sharpened Boruto’s own restraint. Boruto’s caution gave shape to Kawaki’s force. Neither overrode the other. They simply aligned.
He moved before the thought fully settled, and both bodies answered the same impulse as if hesitation had been removed from the process entirely. Kawaki advanced first, his palm snapping forward as black receivers formed and launched in rapid succession, each one driven with intent rather than brute force. They tore through the air and forced Code to shift continuously, the four-armed figure twisting just ahead of impact as the Rinnesharingan embedded in his chest pulsed with unstable light.
Code skidded backward, claws digging into the fractured ground to slow himself, but the space he bought was never enough. Before he could recover his balance, a Disruption Cube materialized overhead, its mass distorting the air around it as it descended. Code vanished a fraction of a second before impact, the cube smashing into the battlefield and collapsing stone and earth into a violent shockwave that rippled outward.
He was already moving again.
Boruto’s body surged forward as Code reappeared, sword drawn and wrapped in a dense spiral of chakra. Wind Release fed into the Rasengan coiled around the blade, tightening its rotation until the pressure carved visible lines through the air. The strike carried no excess motion, no wasted force. It was aimed not to overwhelm, but to remove whatever stood in its path.
Code barely managed to block. The blade passed close enough to shear through one of his arms, sending it spinning away in a spray of pale matter before the limb regenerated and reformed almost immediately. Code landed hard, eyes narrowing as he put distance between them once more.
“What did you do?” Code growled, his voice edged with disbelief as he leapt back.
He didn’t wait for an answer. All four arms moved at once as he attacked again, his strikes coming fast and wide, designed to drown them in pressure and force a mistake.
There was none.
The moment Code committed, He adjusted. Not separately, not in response to one another, but as a single correction. The attack passed through empty space as if it had been misjudged from the start.
Kawaki was already in position, receivers forming mid-swing as Boruto altered trajectory without conscious thought, timing and angle aligning perfectly. There were no signals exchanged, no shouted warnings, no visible coordination. Each movement completed the other without delay.
It was as if they were two wills in one. Boruto felt Kawaki’s instinct to dominate the exchange, to crush Code outright and end the fight by sheer pressure. At the same time, Kawaki felt Boruto’s hesitation, the instinct to observe, to wait for the moment that mattered instead of forcing one.
The conflict did not escalate, but it resolved.
Not through compromise, but through understanding. Each recognized what the other lacked, and the gap closed without discussion. The resistance vanished, and with it, the sense of separation.
He was still Boruto.
He was still Kawaki.
But the space between those truths no longer mattered.
Boruto’s left eye and Kawaki’s right eye surged with power simultaneously as they surged forward.
The fight lost its rhythm, becoming something closer to execution. Each action completed a thought that had already passed through both of them. When Kawaki committed, Boruto understood why. When Boruto hesitated, Kawaki knew exactly how long that hesitation would last and what purpose it served.
It was unsettling.
Not because it felt foreign, but because it felt right.
Too right.
He became aware of the cost even as they pressed forward. Memories surfaced unbidden, fragments of thought bleeding through the shared state. Kawaki felt echoes of Boruto’s past—training sessions taken lightly, confidence mistaken for completion, the slow realization that talent meant nothing without endurance. Boruto, in turn, felt the weight Kawaki carried, the constant readiness to destroy himself if it meant protecting something he had chosen to call his own.
There was no judgment between them.
Only acknowledgment.
So this is what it means, He thought—not aloud, not fully formed, but present in both of them at once. Not power. Responsibility.
The soul of a shinobi wasn’t in technique or bloodline. It was in enduring alignment without losing yourself. In carrying another’s intent alongside your own and still choosing to move forward. To have the guts to never give up.
I think I understand what you finally went through, Dad.
Code struck again, desperate now, his movements sharp but unfocused.
They dismantled the attack without effort.
Kawaki’s receivers forced Code’s movement. Boruto’s blade punished the outcome. Each response arrived exactly when it was needed, not sooner, not later. The margin for error collapsed to nothing.
Code jumped back, his stance cautious and eyes tinted with something close to annoyance.
“Still defying the inevitable, eh Boruto, Kawaki?” Code sneered.
Code’s chakra flared as he got ready in a battle stance, intending on charging forward once more.
“With the power I’ve gained from consuming Amado’s creations…I’ve become something more than an Otsutsuki or a Shinju. I’ve become the closest thing to Shibai Otsutsuki. And yet you fools still think you can defeat me!”
Boruto’s body stepped forward, sword humming, Kawaki’s chakra rising in perfect synchronization with his own.
“We do not think,” they said calmly, the answer shaped by both of them. “We simply know.”
4 YEARS BEFORE THE BATTLE WITH CODE
The roar of a train pierced the air as it ran across the rails, winding through buildings and forests. On the roof of the train, three figures stood beneath the sunrise, watching as the sun slowly began to rise above the Hokage Monument.
Boruto Uzumaki leaned back a little, with his hands behind his hair, the wind whipping through his hair. “The year where we graduate and become genin…it’s been a pretty long ride since the beginning of the academy huh.”
Besides him, Sarada Uchiha sat cross-legged, her onyx eyes fixed on the horizon as the sunlight illuminated her pitch-black hair. She didn’t smile, only frowned at something.
And across from her, Mitsuki with a coy smile spoke, “It won’t be easy, graduation is just the start of us becoming full-fledged ninja.”
“I don’t care if it’s easy or not.” Sarada spoke, a determined edge in her voice as her fists clenched in her lap. “This is my chance…a chance to prove I’m not just Sasuke Uchiha’s daughter.”
Boruto glanced at her, curious. From what he had heard, Sasuke was a pretty cool and badass ninja, with tons of amazing jutsu. Why wouldn’t she want to strive to be like him?
“People still glare at me, even after all these years.” She spat, becoming more irritated. “Like I’m going to snap one day…like the Curse of Hatred will consume me because of my Uchiha blood. Just like with Itachi, Obito, and Madara.”
She took a deep breath. “And I don’t want to prove them right at all. I want to show I’m a proud ninja of Konoha.”
“Please,” Boruto snorted, “You’re too stuck up and annoying to fall for that whole ‘Curse of Hatred’ bull.” To which Mitsuki laughed, and Sarada rolled her eyes, with a faint smile on her lips.
“And what about you, dumb Boruto?” Sarada retorted. “Why do you wanna be a ninja?”
That was a good question. It wasn’t a question he had really focused on, as he either focused on cruising through the academy easily, or enjoying a Thunder burger with his friends after school. He didn’t really care about the type of shinobi he was, just that he would look really cool…and maybe surpass his dad, and get out of his shadow one day.
With that in mind, “As for me…I just want to get out of my dad’s shadow, and become a cool shinobi. When people look at me, all they see is that I’m Lord Seventh’s kid, and not just plain, old Boruto.” Boruto spoke, glancing at his two friends.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Mitsuki said simply. After all, you are my sun, and a sun doesn’t need the help of others to shine on its own, and be unique.”
A tad-bit weird coming from Mitsuki, but he had always been like this ever since they had first met. The pale, blue haired boy’s mannerisms were a bit odd, and somewhat mocking at times, but Boruto had found it endearing as the two of them grew closer over time.
“And what about you, Mitsuki?” Boruto asked, directing the conversation to him. “Why do you want to be a shinobi?”
Mitsuki hesitated, before saying “For all my life, I’ve been searching for what I was meant to do with the life that was given to me. Besides protecting you and Sarada, I’m not sure what else I want to do.” The boy paused, then continued “I’m hoping that becoming a shinobi will give me the answers I seek to this mysterious life of mine.”
With that, all of them remained silent as the train whistle shrieked. In the distance, the Hidden Leaf rose into view, alive with morning bustle.
“Whatever’s waiting for us outside…I’m ready for it.” Sarada spoke as she stood, preparing to jump into the nearest house and make her way home.
“Then let’s make this the start of something big!” Boruto smirked, a cocky edge growing in his tone.
The three jumped from the roof of the train, effortlessly landing on the balcony of a house within the village as they jumped from house to house.
???:
Within the shadows of an abandoned laboratory, multiple broken test tubes lined up at the ends of a hall, with broken glass and green fluids littering the solid floor. At the end of the hall, there was a large test tube containing some large creature. In front of it was a cloaked figure, her body trembling with waves of anticipation...and hatred.
The figure had waited so long for this very moment. From gathering enormous amounts of chakra, to finding the right genes to implant into her project. And now, it was ready.
“It’s time to crush the Leaf, and raze it to the ground.” The cloaked figure spoke softly, her emotion buried under layers of bitterness and hatred.
The world may have forgotten about how Naruto Uzumaki had thrown away ROOT like trash, how he made her father and mother suffer before indirectly killing them, but she would never forget. She would never forget how he harbored criminals like Orochimaru, and Sasuke Uchiha, the latter having murdered Danzo Shimura, who only wanted to protect the Leaf.
But by the time she was through with the Leaf, the world would never forget ever again.
“And it all starts with this.” The figure whispered, laying her hand on the test tube, as the creature opened it’s eye to reveal a glowing yellow eye, full of bestial hatred.
“An artificial summon…containing the ultimate power!”
Kawaki
Deep within a remote stronghold, a boy lay slumped against the wall, his breath labored and blood dripping from his lip. His arms trembled, and his body bore the marks of brutal training—fractures, bruises, and swolleness on his body.
The boy slowly raised his hand, using whatever strength he had left to look at the black, diamond-like mark on his palm.
“The Karma…it is a gift I bestowed upon you.” a voice from long ago spoke. “This mark, is the only way to fill your hollow heart and body, so that you may have a purpose. Without it, you are NOTHING.”
He had thought maybe things would get better, now that he was valuable because of the Karma. It was what Jigen had told him after all, now he had value to others…compared to when he was stuck at his village.
But this Karma mark had only been a curse from him. He had been ripped away from one abusive home only to be subjected to a place far worse than hell.
“They said this mark would make me ‘special’, more ‘valuable’.”
A bitter laugh escaped his lips.
“But all it did was break me. Make the hole in my heart grow bigger.”
As he spoke, the Karma mark pulsated, spreading across his body and responding to his pain, almost as if it was alive. His grey eyes began to glow with rage as he spoke.
“But I’ll get stronger from this training…strong enough to kill all those bastards who subjected me to this hell.”