Chapter Text
Boruto felt like a feverish maniac as he scribbled what looked like a leaf against the stone of the floor. He had been using a small piece of charcoal that had fallen from a nearby torch, though continuously he found himself accidentally filing his nails against the rough surface instead.
Momoshiki had projected the image in his mind, a swirling leaf that Boruto occasionally caught a glimpse at against the ninja’s foreheads. “It’s a symbol. Memorize it.” Momoshiki hadn’t elaborated further.
Boruto did as he was told. Not exactly because he wanted to, rather because of the promise of freedom. He had enough of the interrogations and stares, the dampness of his cold forgotten cell. He just wanted to leave, even if he didn’t know what he would do once he did get out. Reluctantly, he would need to place his trust in Momoshiki when the time came.
Sometimes the Anbu would walk past him as he drew, looking vaguely confused despite the masks. But in the end, they wouldn’t say anything, the symbol was their village’s symbol after all, it wasn’t like they should be suspicious of it.
A few days had passed, and Boruto was starting to see the symbol even when he closed his eyes. Sometimes when the lightning cracked and the space briefly turned blue, he’d see the outline of the leaf. He also started to develop a sense of familiarity with it, almost comforting compared to how he felt about literally everything else in his life. When he woke up, he drew the swirling pattern, when he ate his meal, he’d think about it, and before he closed his eyes he’d swirl it in the air.
Momoshiki was silent throughout all this. He didn’t answer any other questions or when Boruto thought he had memorized it, didn’t say a word. So Boruto continued with the only instruction he was given.
Minato watched as Rin tended wounded ninja in the hospital. The air carried a thick solemnity as cries of pain could be heard and bloodied bandages were carried out in buckets. Some of the medical nin scurried between multiple patients as they rushed in newly arrived ninja. Most of them had arrived from an espionage mission gone wrong, their injuries mostly stable but their pain an agonizing consistent.
The scene didn’t faze him, he’d seen it all before. But Rin’s face was filled with worry and anxiousness, eyes glancing over her patient every time he hissed out in pain. But this hadn’t deterred her, instead fueling a determination behind her eyes as she kept her hand steady over him, chakra pouring out in measured pulses.
Kakashi and Obito were on the other side of the hospital room, jotting down notes as they listened to a patient. Minato had instructed them to learn how to identify certain symptoms while out in the battlefield. Confusion, nausea, difficulty speaking, severe headaches, anything under the umbrella that could potentially lead to a life being saved. Of course the medical nin were too busy to be interviewed so they had to settle for someone who actually exhibited these symptoms.
Throughout the intensity of the room, Minato was thankful that for the most part it was calm, by usual hospital standards at least. Everyone was being treated and cared for.
Tsunade walked by him, stopping to stare at the scene. “It’s been a real shit show,” she said blandly, interrupting Minato’s thoughts.
He stared at her curiously. “How so?”
Tsunade glanced over fresh bandages as they were handed from one medic to another. Needles being thrown aside once their use was up. “We’ve been low on supplies. The manufacturers can’t keep up with the demand. We get a fresh shipment and by the next morning it’s gone.”
Minato sighed. “That bad?”
“That bad,” Tsunade repeated. “You’d think we’d learn after the last war, but I guess no one wants to listen. Supposedly they’re already making triple their usual supply but I don’t believe them, otherwise we wouldn’t be turning away those deemed too far gone.”
Suddenly Minato understood why the room hadn’t reeked so much of death as usual. He grimaced. Then he thought of the blond rogue. “Any updates on the blood tests?”
“Nope, won't be for another week until we get proper results. Even then I’m not sure what the point is, he’ll be dead by then, won’t he?” She had said this so casually, without an ounce of hesitation, Minato nearly missed it.
Minato startled. “You know?”
Tsunade snorted. “We’re turning away our own, there’s no point in keeping around a kid with no memories.”
Minato nodded gravely. Hiruzen’s words still lingered in his thoughts. He didn’t know how or when, but that it was his responsibility. Had it been any other time they would have taken the proper precautions, put in more care behind the case. But it was wartime. There wasn’t time to be kind. The world was unfair, and it was unfortunate that this blond rogue was a victim of it. Once the day arrived, he’d make it quick.
“You think he’s one of our own?” Asked Tsunade suddenly. It was an unexpected question coming from her, who usually didn’t care to muse about pointless topics.
“What do you mean?” Minato asked.
“I mean he wore a headband with our symbol on it. Sure it was cut through the middle, but maybe he was just a confused kid who didn’t know any better, who got angry one day and acted on impulse.” Tsunade looked sad and exhausted as she rambled.
And Minato thought back to his conversation with Kushina about seals. He thought of this scenario as well. There was no record of Boruto in the leaf, no one who matched his description and name. If there was a family out there who cared for him, he could only hope that they’d find him quick, make a ruckus out of it. Because Boruto didn’t have much time left.
Minato didn’t have time to answer as suddenly a nurse rushed over to Tsunade, informing her of more ninja due to be admitted soon. “I guess I should scram, I get light headed around so much blood.” She said the last word carefully, as if even the mention of it would make her break out in a cold sweat. Tsunade smiled. “Don’t fret Minato, we’ve been through this all once before, hopefully we’ll figure out the key to ending this war soon.”
And with that she left. Minato knew Tsunade helped around the hospital where she could, he had heard about her fear of blood and her avoidance of it in general. Sometimes he wondered how she dealt with such a phobia, to be constantly surrounded by her biggest fear, it was ironic. But, he was starting to feel like he understood. The rain was fueling his anxieties, and he couldn’t escape it, it hung in the air constantly. He thought he had a vague idea of how to deal with it, and he tried to accept this idea even when his heart refused it.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in the hospital. Obito and Kakashi now helping place injured ninja over mats as Rin offered her help throughout the space. Minato also began helping with holding out particularly pained ninja as the medics healed them to the best of their abilities.
He watched. He watched as their faces contorted in pain, clutching for relief. The conflict was knocking at their doorsteps now, and Minato was sure he’d been seeing more of this as the situation unfurled into chaos. Soon they wouldn’t be able to pretend that everything was okay.
His hand ached. Boruto was sprawled out on the floor of his cell in a daze, blinking away the moments that ticked by. He tired the single instruction he had been given. His thoughts constantly floated back to the symbol of the leaf if only in reflex.
Boruto groaned and turned over. Thinking of anything else would ease his headache. But he hadn’t been given many options. Just rain, stone bricks, leaf symbols and the stupid Anbu.
He began to think about what stretched beyond the prison cell where he was kept, about what sort of village the leaf was, and whether or not he would have enjoyed staying there if not for his capture.
Every ‘idea’ he had of the world was fuzzy and surface level. Concepts that floated around vaguely and distantly before being waved away. Maybe he knew enough to survive, he could think with words just fine, and use the chopsticks that he was given to feed himself. But anything else that would make him a person, someone with a life, was lacking.
Did he have a family fussing over him? Wondering where he was, and praying for his safety? Boruto couldn’t envision a mother for himself, at least not one who cared. Surely she would have been looking for him? Stressing over his safety, awaiting his return, or whatever mothers do. Though with being a rogue, it was possible she had simply disowned him, choosing to cast a blind eye to any information regarding him.
And if he couldn’t envision a mother, he certainly couldn’t envision a father. If he did, his father probably hated him. He smiled, oddly amused at the thought. And while his woeful musings were a good distraction, a sense of annoyance began to bubble up.
“Boruto.”
Boruto’s smile widened, his mind waving away his thoughts as new entertainment brought itself to him. “Yes?”
“Stop thinking for five seconds.”
“I’m afraid I’m not given much of a choice. I’ve memorized the symbol, haven’t I?” Boruto swirled the symbol in the air just for extra measure. “I’m just waiting for the day you tell me we can escape,” his thoughts dripping with snark.
Momoshiki was silent for a moment, seemingly disappearing back into the crevices of Boruto’s mind. Boruto almost shrugged it off before Momoshiki spoke again. “Fine. We’ll try escaping. But we got to be quick about it.”
Boruto sat up, excited that Momoshiki had agreed. “Really?”
He could feel Momoshiki internally roll his eyes. “Envision the symbol, that’s the shape of the pin we’re trying to locate, and hold up your index and middle fingers as so—“
A vague image was filled into Boruto’s brain. Slowly he lifted his hands up, carefully copying the hand sign in his mind. It felt oddly familiar
“Now picture it. The symbol of the leaf. The pin.”
And he did. The swirling shape turning almost solid in his brain. Familiarity was still a new feeling to him, maybe it was all the memorization but the inkling that he knew what was correct was still all the same. He grasped for it desperately.
The air around him suddenly felt sharp, stirring up around him as if awakened from a deep slumber. The image of the leaf was growing clearer, a symbol etched onto the metal of a forehead protector.
A scene played out in his mind. He let himself be absorbed into the scene that played out, the moment cloudy and unsure of itself. Like seeing a reflection through rippling water.
Someone handed him a headband, tattered and slashed across the middle. “I know that you can do it, trust your teacher.” This voice wasn’t Momoshiki’s, but rather wholly unfamiliar, one that came from this moment he was seeing. A memory?
Then the humidity was gone.
His eyes snapped open as he stumbled over a table. Blinding fluorescent lights invaded his vision as his hand grasped the table desperately to stabilize himself. In his attempts to do so, something metallic fell. He lurched forward, bile crawling up his throat as the object clattered against the floor.
Boruto stared down at it in surprise, trying to ease the nausea. It was the headband, an exact replica he had seen around the village, except slashed in more places than one. The one he had seen being handed to him in his memory.
Momoshiki apparently hadn’t expected the teleportation to work. “Huh.” There was a pause. “Close enough. Grab your things and leave, they’ll notice you’re gone soon.” Momoshiki hadn’t bothered to voice out the rest of his thoughts.
Boruto didn’t heed the warning immediately. Leaning down, he lifted it up carefully, brushing off the dust. The forehead protector. This was something of his.
Boruto stared at it, hoping beyond reason to glean anymore memory from it. He had seen something from his past, he was sure of it. Attempting to think of the scene seemed to be fruitless, nothing else stuck out to him in the moments that played out. Well, except for the voice. It implied that someone was his teacher.
“Boruto.” Momoshiki’s voice was stern.
Blinking, Momoshiki’s presence reminding him of where he was, as he lifted himself up to observe the room where he stood now. Lockers lined the walls of the space, marked with different numbers, most of them wide open and empty. Files and magazines littered the table where he stood near, alongside a discarded box, in the box was a small pouch and a torn jacket with pins on it. One of the pins being the leaf symbol. This may have been what Momoshiki had intended for him to teleport to.
Boruto stuffed the forehead protector into the pocket of his pants as he lifted the jacket up. “Is this mine?” He asked out loud.
“Yes, and everything else. Now take it and leave.”
If Boruto wasn’t feeling on the verge of puking he would have probably rebuked Momoshiki’s impatience.
Slipping it on, he made sure to take the small bag as well. His mind still felt fuzzy from the sudden color that surrounded him, whereas before he had been stuck in a dark smuggy cell, now he was surrounded by bright fluorescent light. He felt out of place.
He turned to the door, feeling more like his body was moving on its own rather than at his own volition. “Where…” Boruto trailed off, “where do I go?”
“The hard part will be getting past the Anbu. Once you leave this place, go straight into the forest, we’ll figure it out from there.”
“Wonderful plan.”
Momoshiki didn’t bother with a response. Boruto grabbed the handle of the door, tugging it open, and air whooshing into his face. This had awoken him slightly from his daze.
Before him was a hall lined with doors of the same color, at the end of the hall seemed to be a corridor that led to who knows where. He took a step forward, unsure.
The teleportation had caught him off guard, he hadn’t even known he was capable of doing it. Up until now he hadn’t exactly aligned himself with the vision of a ninja he had pictured. Nothing about him spoke of stealth, or skill. But now after that fancy party trick he pulled, he was starting to understand it just a bit more. Although this also pushed him closer to the mental image of a wild rogue he hadn’t quite been able to picture himself as.
He strode down the hall quickly, heart beating rapidly against his ears. Boruto hadn’t put much thought into it before, but he also only had one eye, affecting his depth perception, making him double guess how close he was to the end of the hall.
It was silent. A silence Boruto wasn’t used to as it heightened the rest of his senses. Except, instead of the affect it should have done of helping determine more of the space he was in, it did the opposite. He picked up on no noise, no smells or anything to go off of. Just his own breathing. Eventually he made it to the corridor and took a right. His eyes scanned the area, feeling lost, it all looked the same.
“Don’t you have a way of knowing where to go?” Boruto hissed internally, desperation creeping through.
“Sure. Just let me take control and I’ll be able to help you navigate a way out of here—“
“No,” Boruto snapped.
“Fine. Good luck.” And with that, Momoshiki’s voice faded into the oblivion of Boruto’s mind. The vague comfort he had of knowing that there was a presence in his mind to guide him disappeared, instead being replaced by annoyance.
Boruto tried not to let this deter him from searching for an exit, feeling a new fire to find a damn door. The confusing labyrinth he was walking through wasn’t infinite, this simple fact was enough for him. He marched forward.
Abruptly he saw two ninjas turning the corner. They didn’t wear masks and looked to be talking casually with each other, with one looking mildly bored. They also didn’t immediately notice Boruto.
Not Anbu?
Boruto made sure to quickly walk past them, keeping his head lowered. He felt their eyes on him as he went the general direction of where they came from, but otherwise didn't make a move to stop him. Then, they were completely out of sight.
Breathing out a sigh of relief, he continued on his path to freedom. He felt that he was close. Distantly he saw windows. This was it.
He tried his best not to run, tried to look as composed and calm and not suspicious as possible. But just as he neared his escape, something flickered in front of him.
Boruto staggered back, nearly tripping in surprise at the sudden presence, hissing as he caught himself. As he readjusted, he swallowed down the bile that was at risk of rising up again.
Across from him stood an Anbu member, knees bent in a stance that showed that she was ready to strike, and deathly composed. She felt murderous. Then, without warning, she lunged forward.
Boruto managed to barely step back from the jab that was directed his way, his back hitting the wall of the hallway. He hadn’t expected the abrupt attack, his mind reeling, disoriented and barely catching as the Anbu member kicked high, going for his head— he quickly hopped away, feet feeling clumsy and heavy.
He knew there was no pleading with her, no convincing or resolving. The Anbu only saw things in black and white, whether because of the rules they were forced to follow or because of the circumstances they were in. Overwrought with desperation, he could only catch one last fleeting glance at the window as he refocused on her.
She had already readjusted her stance, facing him anew. The way this Anbu fought was clean and exact. The use of her palms heavy. She rushed forward.
Instinct took over, and for a moment everything was clear. Her movements, the environment, the way he should move, the way he should react. It was eerily reminiscent of something he knew he would never be able to place. He dodged another jab, her other palm twisting to catch him off guard. He ducked, his right leg sweeping below her feet as she jumped to avoid it.
His eyes narrowed as she landed, but not having enough time to think before she once again swung forward with her palm. This time she managed a hit on his side, firm and painful. He cried out, but quickly forced himself to recover as another palm flew towards him. He didn’t understand how his body was reacting quicker than his mind, and he almost wondered if Momoshiki was the one controlling him, but his movements felt entirely his own, as if baked into him from years of training.
He twisted behind her, the Anbu member barely managing to turn around to face him as he prepped his next attack.
Even under the mask he could see surprise, shock, radiating off of her as he used his palms— just like her— to send her crashing towards the wall with a loud slam. Chakra pulsed from his hand. Boruto took a shuddering breath at the sight, eyes wide at the incomprehensible image before him. Everything became blurry then, watching as she weakly lifted her head, mask cracked.
“Boruto, you need to leave now.”
His heart was loud against the buzzing in his ears. He stepped forward, unsure of whether he was approaching the Anbu or the window. Boruto had not known about his own strength.
“Boruto!”
He blinked, gulping down his breaths as he ushered himself towards the window, sliding the glass up and open. There was yelling, feet storming towards him. Somehow, the treatment he had received felt justified.
He didn’t look back as he jumped out, barreling towards the bright green leaves of the trees.