Chapter Text
The sky bled red over the ruins of a dead world.
A blackened husk of a World Tree loomed over the horizon, its roots cracking through scorched stone. It had already been drained — its last chakra fruit consumed by the pale figure floating above its core.
Momoshiki Ōtsutsuki licked the remnants of power from his hand, his expression flat, distant.
The echoes of civilization — beasts, soldiers, kingdoms — had long vanished into the soil. As always.
“Another hollow world,” he muttered.
Behind him, the air folded. A clean rupture split through space, and from it stepped a tall, silver-haired figure with turquoise eyes — Eida.
He didn’t walk; he simply moved. Gravity bent around him. His presence alone seemed to disturb the ground beneath his feet, though he never touched it.
The Senrigan shimmered faintly behind his gaze, seeing not just what was, but what had been.
“Kaguya’s sector,” he said without greeting. “Space distortion has exceeded baseline thresholds. Sixteen confirmed tears.”
“She failed to report.”
"She disappeared,” Eida corrected, eyes distant. “Two cycles ago. Her World Tree never bloomed — but its roots remained. Hidden. Twisted beneath a false crust.”
Momoshiki narrowed his eyes. “The world she was assigned — Earth… it resisted her?”
Eida tilted his head, eyes shining faintly. The Senrigan was reading every memory the planet had ever held. The wars. The clans. The sealed beasts. Kaguya’s rise — and her fall.
“She was sealed. Not killed. By humans.”
Eida remained expressionless. But a faint note of curiosity edged into his tone. “They’re unusual. Not just in chakra development. Something about the planetary flow… it bends entropy. Rewrites decay. Even after destruction, it clings.”
Momoshiki turned toward the empty sky. “If such a place defeated Kaguya, it may be worth harvesting. Their power… could elevate us.”
“Or trap us,” Eida murmured.
Momoshiki ignored him. “Prepare the gate. We’ll investigate ourselves.”
Eida raised a hand lazily. The dimensional gate cracked open with a low hum — not loud, not violent — as if space itself willingly unfolded before them.
Dimensional travel was their birthright, no more difficult than breathing.
But just before Eida stepped through, his eyes caught something.
The Senrigan locked onto a moment. A girl — young, chakra-rich, determined — was sparring under a half-collapsed ridge in a forested training ground.
Her movements were precise, but her eyes kept flicking to a strange device in her palm — a ninja tool. Forbidden tech.
She was cheating.
Why would one with such potential mask it with tricks?
That question stayed.
Eida observed silently. The man beside her — tall, one arm, sharp gaze — was clearly holding back. Sasuke Uchiha, the name surfaced. A ghost from Kaguya’s downfall.
Yet it wasn't him that caught Eida’s attention.
It was her.
“Boruto,” he murmured.
She should not have mattered.
One of billions.
And yet…
“You…”
He peered deeper — through blood, chakra threads, memory lines older than her body.
Uzumaki Naruto — the vessel of the Nine-Tails, descendant of Asura Ōtsutsuki through the Senju bloodline. A man reborn from the will of resilience and endless chakra.
Hyūga Hinata — bearer of the Byakugan, direct heir to the Hyūga clan, whose origin traces back to Hamura Ōtsutsuki, brother of Kaguya herself.
Asura. Hamura. Kaguya.
Three pillars of the old blood.
And all of them converged in her.
A girl born of celestial legacy buried in mortal skin.
An heir not by name, but by composition.
And somehow, she was beautiful because of it.
Something ancient within him — long frozen, long suppressed — stirred. A hunger not for chakra, not for conquest... but for something irreversibly human.
Connection.
Recognition.
Love.
The kind of love he’d longed for, mocked for — Ōtsutsuki did not love. But yet, something about her made his heart race.
It wasn’t just her power.
Or her lineage.
Or even her beauty — though there was something in the way her hair caught the wind, something in the firelight behind those foolish, untrained blue eyes that made the ancient blood in him stir.
No, it was something more dangerous than aesthetics.
It was the idea of her.
Just... someone — stumbling through youth, raw and loud and painfully alive. A girl who hadn’t asked for legacy, yet wore it in her skin and bones.
And what was love, if not a desire to be seen by someone who didn’t adore or fear you?
For so long, he had known only obedience and avoidance. In the eyes of the clan, love was a contamination. To feel deeply was weakness.
And yet…
Watching her, he imagined it.
Just... someone looking back at him without awe or terror. Someone who might choose him, not because she was made to — but because something in her wanted to.
'Maybe she could love me.'
It was a thought so bold, so impossibly naive, it should’ve made him laugh.
But it didn’t.
Instead, he clutched his chest — not out of pain, but to quiet the strange rhythm his heart had begun to beat.
The idea consumed him.
His Senrigan drifted over her — not to steal her secrets — but just to stay near.
And then she looked up.
Just for a second. Not toward him — she couldn’t possibly know. But her gaze caught the horizon like she felt something watching, and in that instant he saw them — her eyes.
Blue. Clear. Bright.
"Those blue eyes..."
The words escaped before Eida realized they were his.
"They will take everything from you."
He blinked.
And for the first time in decades, curiosity replaced certainty.
The gate waited. Momoshiki called without turning his head. Eida followed — but he did not leave empty.
He had found something… someone… worth rewriting destiny for.
Many years ago.
The void was cold.
Not by temperature — no Ōtsutsuki feared the chill of space — but by silence.
A silence taught.
A silence commanded.
The chambers of their homeworld were carved into the bones of ancient stars, high above the fertile worlds they harvested. Everything—floor to ceiling, from the glyphs to the floating lecterns—spoke of legacy. Obedience. Destiny.
And from the time they could stand, the children were taught to listen.
"Your path is to devour."
"Your truth is evolution."
"Your will is the clan’s."
Momoshiki absorbed every word with reverence. He stood straight, reciting mantras of genetic supremacy, of dominion through chakra.
And then… there was Eida.
He didn’t kneel as quickly.
He didn’t chant as loudly.
And his eyes—those eyes—were different.
Turquoise and shifting, too deep to be measured, too knowing to be tamed.
“Senrigan,” one of the elders had murmured, breathless, the first time they activated.
“Rare,” they agreed. “Worthy.”
Eida was young, but he could feel it. The way gazes turned his way with curiosity. Reverence. Hope. He was called gifted.
And Eida, despite himself, smiled.
Not for power.
But because for the first time… he thought maybe they saw him.
Momoshiki never smiled when they spoke of Eida.
He sat quieter. Firmer. His fists clenched just slightly, the muscles in his jaw twitching as another teacher spoke of Eida’s “potential.” His “natural grace.” His “charisma.”
“Funny,” Momoshiki once muttered, “how easily they praise someone who doesn’t even care.”
Eida tilted his head. “You jealous?”
Momoshiki’s eyes burned cold. “I care about the clan. You? You care about… emotions.”
There was silence for a moment.
Eida didn’t deny it.
He didn’t crave the power. He didn’t care about devouring worlds. He didn’t dream of chakra trees and rewritten DNA.
He watched the holoprojections of conquered civilizations — not to study their mistakes, but to glimpse the strange little moments.
A mother shielding her child. Two lovers sneaking kisses beneath alien moons. A soldier reaching for someone’s hand.
"What is that?" he had asked once, too young to fear the answer.
"A weakness of lower species." the elder had said.
But it didn’t feel like weakness. Not to him. It felt like gravity. Something pulling at his chest even when he tried to ignore it.
As the years passed, his charm bloomed — the ability to make others adore him, obey him. The elders praised it as a gift, useful for sowing subjugation without blood.
But to Eida, it only deepened the wound.
'If everyone loves you by force… does it even count?'
He watched planets fall in love with him.
But none of them saw him.
And so, in secret moments between missions, he searched. Not for chakra. Not for trees.
For something else.
For someone.
Meanwhile, Momoshiki grew colder. Sharper. Loyal to a vision Eida couldn’t share.
They were brothers by birth, bonded by blood and purpose.
But where one craved obedience, the other longed to be chosen.
Present.
The arena roared with approval.
Her name. Her victory. Her power.
Uzumaki Boruto.
The daughter of the Seventh. The prodigy of the Leaf.
Boruto could use Multiple Kage Bunshin at this age, Boruto who could use jutsu to this extent without a Bijuu.
That power was seen as incredibly fitting for the daughter of the legend Uzumaki Naruto, and the carrier of the traditional Hyuuga Clan’s blood.
Boruto basked in it. In the cheers. In the weight of all those eyes watching her. For once, it wasn’t his name they were praising. It was hers.
Boruto Uzumaki — no fox cloak, no destiny. Just talent. Just hard-earned genius.
And a little help from science.
She raised her hand high. The arena swelled in volume again.
The final verdict hadn’t been given yet, but in everyone’s eyes her victory was already guaranteed.
She could use several nature transformation jutsu, and freely manipulate multiple kage bunshin. That was a power that surpassed Naruto and Sasuke’s powers when they were young.
It felt good to have all the adult’s eyes on her, full of wonder at how she was no longer at genin level.
Amidst all the daimyou and businessmen there were also people who already were pulling out mission requests, or asking for Boruto’s data file.
How’s that, shitty Dad?
No sweat. No blood. No lectures. Just results.
But one person wasn’t clapping.
In a sea of glowing admiration, one shadow fell still. Naruto. He was the only one who wasn’t smiling.
The Seventh Hokage jump down from the Kage stands, where the other leaders and nobles watched. “....Hinata.” Naruto gently took hold of his wife’s hand, and whispered in her ear.
“Eh?”
“Do me a favour and look at Boruto with your Byakugan. Around her hand.”
"Ah....!” The crowd let out an even larger buzz of noise. It was because the Seventh Hokage, Naruto, had just descended into the arena.
'Naruto...?' Gaara, the Kazekage, tilted his head in puzzlement.
It was because his friend, Uzumaki Naruto, was the type of man who kept his private and work life separate, and wouldn’t go down to publicly congratulate his daughter.
'What’s going on...?'
The next moment happened like a Genjutsu.
Her father landed in front of her.
“Dad!” Boruto beamed. “Did you see?!”
He didn’t smile. Didn’t speak. If Boruto had been a little calmer, she would have realised that right now, Naruto wasn’t happy.
However, right now Boruto was drunk on the cheers of the spectators.
“Next up, the winner’s gonna be decided!” Boruto said, grinning wide. This time, it was Boruto who held out her fist.
It looked like Naruto was going to reach towards that fist...but he grabbed Boruto’s wrist.
“?!”
And in that grip, the cartridge slipped out. The gauntlet. The ninja tool. The proof of everything she’d tried to hide.
Her breath caught.
“I’ve said it before. That the usage of the gauntlet isn’t approved.” Naruto said, with the stern face of the man who stood above ninja. “Using a ninja tool that doesn’t use your own chakra goes against the meaning of the Chuunin Exams, to raise new ninja.”
Still holding onto her wrist, Naruto turned to the jounin referee, Rock Lee, and said, “...Boruto is disqualified...Amend the winner to Shikadai.”
Her knees went weak. She barely heard Lee’s voice over the pulse in her ears.
“Uzumaki Boruto has transgressed by using a prohibited ninja tool and is disqualified from the Chuunin Exams! The winner has been corrected to Konohagakure’s Nara Shikadai!”
There was a commotion amidst the spectators, then comprehension, and then, finally, booing.
'No no no'— Her fists trembled. 'This isn’t how it was supposed to go.'
She couldn’t breathe.
Somewhere in the silence that followed, Shikadai stared up at her — stunned, betrayed, unsure whether to pity her or hate her.
Boruto lowered her hand.
The cheers were gone.
And for the first time in her life…
She was completely alone.
Naruto reached up and untied the headband from her forehead.
It slipped from her hair like a falling leaf.
Boruto didn’t speak. She thought she might — a protest, an apology, something. But the words died when she saw the look in his eyes.
It wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t disappointment.
It was pain.
Pain so deep it made her stomach twist — like he had done something wrong. Like he was the one ashamed.
That look alone told her everything.
What she’d stepped on.
What she’d mocked.
What she’d betrayed.
The pride of a shinobi. The dream of her father.
The meaning of every scar he carried.
She finally understood.
And that was what made it unbearable.
Naruto’s voice was soft, but firm. “Let’s go. We’re still in the middle of the exams. There’ll be a lecture later.”
Later.
Just that word was enough to crack something inside her.
“A lecture... later? From you, Dad?!” Her voice rose. Her fists clenched. The tears she refused to shed burned behind her eyes.
“If you’d properly lectured me before... if you’d really seen me — really talked to me — then maybe things wouldn’t have ended up like this!!”
She knew it wasn’t fair.
She knew her own actions were to blame.
But still —She wanted him to scold her.
She wanted her one and only dad to face his daughter.
Not the Hokage. Not the symbol. Just her dad.
“Boruto...” Naruto looked like he might say something more — But that’s when it happened.
A sudden rustle. Movement in the stands. Then the sound of footsteps echoing across the stone floor.
Katasuke. And others from the Scientific Ninja Research Division. They strode into the arena without shame.
“Squad Leader Katasuke?!” Rock Lee called out.
Naruto’s face darkened instantly. “You bastard...!”
Katasuke, however, smiled calmly. His eyes glinted — not with pride, but calculation. “We’re all disappointed that Boruto couldn’t become the champion,” he said, his voice smooth and public. “But, Seventh... this is still a success.”
Boruto flinched. She didn’t recognize that look in his eyes. Gone was the polite engineer who had encouraged her — who had praised her potential.
In his place stood a man who had weaponized her. Who had planned this all along.
“We were going to unveil the Scientific Ninja Tool after she won,” he said, “but now is just as good.”
“No…” Boruto whispered.
The realization hit like a kunai to the gut.
'I was a pawn.'
Katasuke raised the gauntlet and cartridges, smiling as if unveiling a masterpiece. “Everyone here today!” he shouted to the stunned crowd. “This is the Scientific Ninja Tool used by Boruto Uzumaki! She may have been disqualified — but the tool that got her to the finals is this remarkable invention!”
The arena buzzed again — but this time, with something different. Unease. Suspicion.
Naruto stepped forward. “Katasuke—!”
But the man kept going.
“And so, honoured Five Kage, Daimyō, and visiting dignitaries — we hope you’ll take this opportunity to witness firsthand the practical potential of these tools for your own villages’ shinobi programs!”
It was a terrible plan. Brazen. Shameless.
But Katasuke was banking on it — on the weight of spectacle, on the thirst for results. If the crowd turned in favor of the technology, even Naruto might be forced to concede.
Boruto stood frozen, gut twisting.
This wasn’t a celebration anymore.
It was a circus.
And she was the main act.
It was at this moment that Momoshiki and Eida appeared in the arena.
It was plain to everyone’s eyes that these two were unknown enemies.
“Hmm...” Momoshiki fixed his eyes onto Naruto.
Boruto couldn’t move. It was because she was feeling something she hadn’t experienced yet: the true presence of danger.
“It’s this one...” Momoshiki said, “This one holds the strongest and biggest chakra in this seed-plot. If we recover it, we should be able to plant the World Tree again...”
“Hey, hey! What’re you people doing?!” Right now, this is my--!”
Katasuke had approached without understanding the situation, and before he could even show off the gauntlet, he was blown back by a single blow from Momoshiki.
“My Byakugan sees a fox...” Momoshiki said, “Fox, come here.”
“So your target is me, huh...” A slight bead of sweat appeared on Naruto’s face.
It was obvious to the other Kage as well that this was no trivial matter.
“Let’s go,” Darui said, and Gaara and others began moving as well. Helping the spectators run away was first priority.
But something was weird.
The arena was supposed to already fall into panic.
But the Daimyō, the villagers, the ordinary people—even the ninja—froze in place.
Their eyes were all fixed on the other foreign figure standing beside Momoshiki.
And instead of fear, what appeared in their eyes was… awe. Admiration. Even desire.
Cheeks warming with an almost childlike blush across the faces of grown men and women alike.
Mouths parted slightly, not in shock, but in breathless wonder.
It was an utterly wrong response for such a situation. Where terror should have surged, instead came a strange warmth, a pull—deep and unnatural.
Several collapsed into their seats, overcome, not by fear—but by a kind of rapture. A few even fainted outright, too overwhelmed by the beauty of the mysterious enemy.
Shinobi and civilian alike dropped to their knees, faces flushed and trembling, hands clutched over their hearts as if struck by an arrow.
Others reached out toward him in silence, tears streaming down their cheeks for reasons they couldn't name.
Men stiffened in confusion—some of them turning to each other with wide, shaken eyes. A few whispered in embarrassment, “Why is my heart racing?” and, “Am I… into him?”
From within the crowd, declarations began to pour out—raw, unfiltered.
“I love you!”
“I’d follow you anywhere!”
“You’re not real—there’s no way someone like you is real!”
“Please just look at me...!”
Even some high-ranking shinobi couldn't help but stand there in silence, jaws slack, admiration bleeding into helpless desire.
But among them, a handful resisted. Their minds, sharp as ever, strained against the fog of compulsion.
Shikamaru gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing as the back of his skull throbbed like a migraine blooming. “No way... This isn’t genjutsu. It’s Him... Just standing there—he’s doing this. Everyone’s falling under his sway.”
Kakashi’s brows twitched beneath his forehead protector. “What... is this feeling?” he muttered, his voice unsteady but skeptical. “This isn’t normal.”
Temari gritted her teeth, sweat beading down her temple, her fan trembling in her grip. “Damn it... get a hold of yourself…!” she whispered to herself, furious.
Boruto, watching all this, felt the tension in the air twist into something unfamiliar. Even though the enemy had clearly entered the field, people weren’t screaming or running—they were gazing.
Eida stood still, eyes scanning the crowd, entirely unbothered. His mere presence was drowning the arena.
Men and women alike found themselves inexplicably drawn to him, as if compelled to admire and obey.
Even among the elite shinobi—the generation that had fought countless battles—some were visibly affected.
Sakura, normally collected and battle-ready, felt her cheeks flush before she even realized what was happening. Her hand instinctively reached toward her chest as her heart pounded irregularly.
Ino’s cheeks flushed, her hands trembling at her sides. “Who... who is that?..” she whispered, her voice hitching with unconscious desire.
Kiba had dropped his fighting stance altogether, stunned. “Whoa...”
Konohamaru’s jaw went slack, his eyes wide with admiration, almost childlike.
Even the Kage—strong as they were—showed signs of inner turmoil. Darui blinked rapidly and muttered, “Why... why do I feel like dropping my weapon?”
Gaara rubbed his temple, feeling an odd pressure in his head, while other leaders subtly shifted, trying to maintain composure.
Naruto’s brows furrowed deeply. A heavy, inexplicable dizziness passed through him like a wave. “Tch... my body’s reacting weirdly—what is this?”
And above them all, the charmer himself stood perfectly calm—Eida, the boy with beauty out of this world, with a soft, detached expression. He didn’t speak a word.
He didn’t need to.
His presence was enough to bend a battlefield.
No one was screaming. No one was moving to fight. They were captivated.
Boruto's blood ran cold.
This was wrong.
Whatever this enemy—was, he wasn’t just powerful.
He was irresistible.
Eida’s eyes finally landed on her.
For a moment, the chaos blurred around him. The crowd’s desperate cries of adoration, the collapsing figures, the murmurs of confused ninja — they all quieted.
It was like the world narrowed to just Boruto.
He expected the flush, the dazed eyes, the unconscious blush that came from everyone who looked at him.
Expected her knees to wobble with desire, her lips to tremble with longing, her voice to whisper some variation of “You’re beautiful.”
But instead…
Her eyes widened.
Not in awe.
Not in love.
But in horror.
Boruto didn’t even move to fight. She couldn’t. Her muscles had gone stiff. Her mouth slightly parted. Her breath caught.
She looked like a prey animal that had just caught sight of the thing it had no chance of escaping from.
No wonder. From her perspective, two monsters had just descended into the middle of the village, and the crowd around her had lost their minds—consumed by delusion.
That look she gave him wasn’t admiration.
It was the look everyone else should’ve had.
Eida’s heart skipped. 'Why...?' He blinked.
And then—slowly—it dawned on him.
The hum of control that always filled the air when he arrived. That thick warmth that clung to others like a perfume.
It wasn’t touching her.
His charm—wasn’t working on her.
Boruto Uzumaki was standing in the middle of an entranced world... and looking right back at him, like a person.
Just... a girl, seeing him for what he was.
Eida’s breath caught in his throat.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt seen. No illusion. No spell. No adoration.
His heart raced.
A girl standing still, untouched by the storm of his presence. Untouched by him.
It felt like something out of the daydreams he used to have back when he was still young enough to believe in hope. That maybe, one day, someone would just… see him.
But as he stepped forward, the flush of warmth inside him started to sink.
Because the way Boruto was looking at him—It wasn't true love.
It was terror.
Her arms weren’t raised in defiance. Her legs weren’t positioned to run or fight.
She was simply frozen, paralyzed in pure fear.
And suddenly that warmth in Eida’s chest twisted.
'No… no, not like this.'
He had dreamt of this moment, dreamt of the one who could love him freely.
But not like this.
Not with eyes that said “stay away.”
Eida’s gaze fell, for a second. Just long enough to hide the flicker of pain in his eyes— then he descended slowly toward her.
That’s when Naruto moved.
Despite the pounding in his skull and the pressure on his chest, Naruto stepped between them and shoved Boruto behind him, shielding her with his body.
“Run, Boruto!” he shouted.
“Lee — get to everyone!" Naruto ordered. He stepped forward, chakra flaring.
Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu.
In an instant, a thousand Narutos exploded into existence around the arena, forming a living barrier.
His legs shook, but his spirit did not.
The Will of Fire — it burned brighter than any false desire.
From above, Momoshiki narrowed his gaze, raising an arm and speaking to Eida with irritation in his voice.
“Focus. The fox is the priority.”
He snapped his fingers — An enormous blast of destructive chakra surged from Momoshiki, striking down toward the arena like a hammer. The stone cracked and rumbled.
The arena began collapsing in chunks.
But Naruto’s clones didn’t flinch.
His command had ignited something.
Shikamaru shouted to his team, a hand pressed to his forehead. “Snap out of it! Move! Save the civilians!”
Temari clenched her fan, gritting her teeth. “Go, go!”
Even Sakura and Ino, despite their flushed cheeks and pounding hearts, forced themself into motion.
It was as though Naruto’s flame passed into each of them, giving them just enough clarity to do their jobs.
They dashed through the crowd — who still stood mesmerized — pulling children, shielding villagers, dragging their comrades away from crumbling stone.
But Eida didn’t stop. He barely even noticed Naruto’s army of clones — barely noticed the destruction from Momoshiki.
He kept walking.
Eyes locked on the girl who still wasn’t smiling.
The one he needed to smile.
“Not another step!" Naruto warned.
But Eida didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.
His eyes stayed on Boruto like the rest of the world didn’t exist.
And when Naruto — the real one — leapt forward, fists clenched with rage and resolve, aiming a devastating blow toward Eida’s side— His own fist turned.
The momentum redirected with eerie precision.
And with the sickening force of a train, Naruto’s own punch collided with his ribs.
The Seventh Hokage was blasted backward, smashing through a wall, then another, before finally slamming into the outer structure and crumpling to the ground.
The dust settled over his limp form.
“Dad!!” Boruto let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a scream and a sob.
Eida never looked at him.
He was already standing in front of her.
Her legs gave way slightly beneath her. Her body trembled. Her breath shook.
And then — his hand, gentle, too gentle for the chaos surrounding them — touched her chin.
Boruto’s whole body flinched at the contact.
Her eyes locked on his — unable to move, unable to blink.
And Eida, still holding her chin, whispered in a voice low and disturbingly soft, “Why do you look at me like that?”
His thumb brushed her cheek — not cruelly, but not kindly. A quiet moment of intimacy built on something utterly wrong.
Their faces were close now. Her breath hitched.
There was no smile on his face now. Only something much more dangerous.
Desire. Confusion.
And the fragile beginnings of obsession.
Their moment wasn’t beautiful. It was silent, strangled with tension. Romantic to some eyes, terrifying to others.
To Boruto—it felt like the air itself had stopped moving.
Like the world had bent around this moment.
And she had no way out of it.