Chapter Text
It’s hard to see the figure obscured by the dust, their coat fluttering in the wind and their dark hair caressed gently by the soft breeze. How ironic. Boruto blinks slowly where he’s laid in the blood stained earth, battered, bruised and left for dead by one he once called his brother. He tries to breathe, he really does, but he feels the displaced rib stabbing into his lung, threatening to pop it like some sort of balloon, so he’s left with shallow, desperate breaths as he holds on to the last threads of his fleeting life. Despite that, his broken arm drags through the dirt and reaches for what is gone. What did he do wrong? Everything he has ever done was worth nothing in the end.
Boruto misses his friends. He misses Mitsuki, the moon that tragically fell apart upon flying too close to the sun. He misses Sarada, the stars in the night sky that never seemed to stop shining. Ever since they left his life, his skies never seemed as bright anymore.
Boruto misses his family; young and small Himawari, who he held in his arms or carried on his back, his mother who was ever patient during his rowdier times and never gave up on him. Dad… Somehow he musters the strength to smile, weak and pathetic. That dumb old man always found a way to bring everyone together and somehow made even the roughest of edges round out. What went wrong? They were content, weren’t they? He longed to smile and laugh with his brother again.
As his vision wavers, a light swarms his surroundings and he believes this is truly the end of the line. Though, not until he sees the blurry shape of a shell wrapped in a neatly tied red rope. It feels familiar – warm even. He suddenly feels nostalgic. A voice rings in his mind, it's muddled and muted and frankly sounds like everything it’s saying is underwater. “Consider it a thanks…remaining chakra…drawbacks.” Boruto winces at the loud ringing in his ears, unable to resist curling uncomfortably, though only having enough strength to spasm. One moment there was everything, then there was nothing.
⏱
Boruto wakes up with a strangled gasp, shooting off of his bed and immediately reaching behind him for his blade to enter a defensive stance. He stops breathing when he comes up completely empty handed. This isn't right. He always had Kusanagi on him, there’s no way he could have lost it, the blade is always attached to him by the hip. In his stupor, he smacks his forehead, patting around for one more thing. He looks down at himself and finds he’s missing a certain piece of cloth as well.
Finally, he looks at the mirror and is met with a young, unscarred face looking back at him. He wants to throw up. On top of that, he has nothing of Sasuke’s, nothing at all. Boruto’s breath hiccups and a hand flies up to his chest. Where? Where? Where was Kusanagi? Where was Sasuke’s headband? Where was he? What happened? Blue eyes dart around the space, but he’s unable to focus through the panic. Is this a Genjutsu? Was he kidnapped? Boruto bites his lip to draw blood. Nothing. He opens the door and stumbles down the stairs, miraculously making it down without breaking his neck. Though maybe that could wake him up.
The kitchen is just the same as it was all those years ago. Then, the knives should be here as well. His small, shaky hands reach for the knife holder and tightly grips the handle of his target and with little to no hesitation he aims the tip to his throat. He'll make this quick. But a deafening scream stops him before he thrusts the blade into his neck and the blade is sent flying before he knows it. Following that, he’s also thrown to the ground and enveloped in a strong embrace. Danger. His instincts scream at him. Home. His instincts scream at him. Purple tinted hair is all he can see, but the scent is unmistakable. The pain in his bottom doesn’t feel fake, in fact, the impact on his tailbone has left him stiff.
“Boruto, what are you doing!?” Hinata –his mom— screams, her pale eyes filled with complete and utter fear. The hands gripping his shoulders tremble and they’re starting to hurt. Real pain. “Oh god, please don’t do that ever again,” she whispers into his hair and he melts. But Boruto is still in a state of disbelief. What the hell is happening?
“Mama?” The blond’s tension is renewed at the quiet and meek voice. Himawari is rubbing her eyes. That’s right, she was sleeping by the front door for some reason. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Boruto finds his voice and the first thing that leaves him is a lie, “Ah, nothing’s wrong Himawari, I just tripped and mom was helping me out, that’s all.” She tilts her head, though fortunately it seems he was able to convince her.
Hinata –his mom– sends her daughter a reassuring smile, but only Boruto can feel how her grip does not relent. “Your dad should be home soon, go and brush your teeth and wash up, sweetheart. I’ll put together something small for you before you two go.”
Upon remembering her plans, the young girl squeals, practically vibrating in place. She nods enthusiastically and her footsteps become but a memory as she bounds up the staircase. With her gone, the silence is so loud. His small hands, the room, the stairs, the kitchen. Himawari was waiting for someone. Today is an important day. He picks up the sound of a door knob turning and his breathing picks up against his will. His mom is saying something through all the ringing. This must be some sick joke. Hasn't he already given up everything he's had?
“Boruto!” Boruto flinches and his eyes strangely burn when he looks up at his mother, her own gaze filled with so much concern and despair. It's been awhile since he had anyone who cared about him anymore. Her thumb brushes against his unmarred cheek and he realizes the coldness it leaves behind is the result of his tears. “Please talk to me, Boruto. Tell me what's wrong.”
What was wrong? “Dad,” he calls and his voice cracks. “I want dad.”