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It all started on Sarada's thirteenth birthday. She didn't even want to celebrate it, but doing nothing looked too suspicious.
Cho-Cho came inside first, throwing her arm around Sarada's shoulders, a smile on her face. Next came Himawari, presenting her with a handmade card. They all had cake, sang, and she put on a smile as she opened her presents. Treated her guests with respect.
But it wasn't the same.
Even Himawari seemed to pout, wondering why Kawaki didn't want to come when he'd been there every year. It was because Kawaki never once showed up to her birthday. He hadn't even been in the village for a full year.
The one they were missing was Boruto.
Even during the years when their relationship consisted of nothing but fighting, she found boxes on her balcony with anonymous tags that read 'happy birthday' and small simple gifts inside. At first, she thought they were from her father. But after asking both her mother and the idiot in question, she came to the realization. All of them were from Boruto.
That night, as she made her way back to her room, she sat on her bed. Flopped on her side. And a few tears dripped over the bridge of her nose and seeped into her white sheets.
She missed him so much more than she cared to admit. Even to herself. She constantly shut herself down, saying she didn't like him like that. She just missed her goofy childhood friend that annoyed her to no end and somehow found a way to make her laugh despite it all. But every single time someone mistook him for Kawaki... The desire to scream tore through her like a tornado.
It wasn't fair.
It was always him.
She just wanted him back. To go on a mission again and scold him for being an idiot. To see him smile at his little sister, blush through a romance movie and claim he didn't understand it. To tell her she was the one who was going to become hokage, to blink and find him standing in the way of her and imminent danger.
Forming her fingers into a cross, she whispered the name of his signature jutsu. A double of herself appeared at her side. What was the point? Imitating his jutsu just because she missed him... How desperate was she?
But just as she was about to dispel her clone, it did something of it's own will.
"Henge."
Sarada's eyes widened. She slowly picked herself up out of bed. Standing in front of her was no longer her double. It was a clone of Boruto... The twelve year old Boruto she missed so badly that she now wore a jacket similar to his, just to feel like she was wearing it.
"You shouldn't let yourself cry so much, ya know."
His voice. Tears spilled over her cheeks, throat tightening.
"Come'ere."
Sarada reluctantly crawled forward on her knees. And her clone, in the form of Boruto, wrapped his arms around her.
She managed to replicate everything. His scent. The pressure in his hands, the hardness of his chest.
And as tears continued spilling into his white cotton t-shirt, Sarada brought her arms up. And dug her fingers into his jacket.
Her clone sat there silently, running his fingers in a jellyfish like motion through her short hair as she sobbed.
But this wasn't Boruto. Boruto must've had a scar over his eye by now. He was probably taller. His look more worn, long shaggy hair like her fathers from lack of a barber to cut it.
Sarada pulled back, her hands on his chest, sniffling.
"Thanks... But I... Even though I miss him more than anything... I can't act like this..."
She dispelled the jutsu and lay down, thoughts racing through her mind. She almost wanted to do it again. To have him play with her hair as she drifted off to sleep. Her heart was racing, tears dripping over her nose.
But that was wrong.
Sumire was the one with the crush. The one who deserved him. The one who waited patiently with a calm mind, never getting caught up in her feelings. Sarada was just...
She tucked her face into her knees. She was just an idiot who was helplessly stubborn and could never have what she really wanted.
. . .
A year and a half later, Sarada tore her glasses off, throwing them at her bed and flopping into the pillows. Every day was rough, but this one was particularly bad. Hot tears stung the back of her eyelids. She hated Shikamaru. She hated Kawaki. She hated Eida. She hated Cho-Cho for downright thinking she was crazy.
As she rolled onto her back, chest heaving at the blurry ceiling, her lip quivered. It didn't used to be like this. She didn't used to be like this. Hating everyone? What kind of a person was she... They were all under the effects of omnipotence. it couldn't be helped. It was truly a miracle that her father believed her. But even then...
It didn't change how much it hurt. How much her anger and frustration had been building up like a volcano about to erupt. Her trembling fingers formed a plus sign.
"...Boruto..."
In seconds, her clone was there, transformed into him. Even though she was older, she couldn't bring herself to make him look any different. Getting up, she ran into his arms and buried her face in his shoulder.
"I miss you, stupid idiot."
"Sarada... I am you, ya know."
"Shut up! I don't want to hear it! Just... just..."
"Mm." He brought his arms around her.
Why was she like this? Relying on shadow clones for emotional support. This wasn't him. She was insane. She was insane for thinking that doing this would make things any different. For thinking once he came back maybe, just maybe he'd hold her like this.
Even if he came back. Everyone was going to try to kill him. They were all going to try to kill him and no matter what she tried, she couldn't stop them. No matter how many painstaking hours she spent tiptoeing around her words, no matter how much she played the devils advocate.
He wasn't the devil. They were all insane. And maybe she was too. She pushed herself out of his arms and punched her clone so hard it dispelled, tears spilling over her cheeks. She had to be stronger than this if she was going to become the hokage. She had to advocate for the truth without fighting those in authority over her. She had to retain at least a shred of her dignity.
But at the same time... Sarada knew. Her tense shoulders slumped, clenched fist relaxing, fire red eyes fading into a zoned off onyx. If she wanted to keep her emotions in tact... She needed an outlet. And being held, even if it was by a clone, was a surefire way to change her anger and insanity into the sad, truthful reality of life and make her cry. Make her keep trying. To reset her emotions and calm her down.
Laying down in bed and holding her pillow, she summoned her clone again. This time, it stayed as a double of her.
"Transform."
"...Are you going to punch me again?"
Sarada curled further into a ball. "No..."
With a sigh, her clone transformed. Sat on the edge of her bed. And gently toyed with her hair until her tears left stains on her sleeping face.
. . .
Another long day. Another pointless mission.
Another argument she couldn't win. Another conversation with Sumire she couldn't help but have... about him. About how it wasn't fair. And amidst her complaining, Sumire continued to patiently make excuses. Telling her to stop trying. That it was no use.
Maybe it really was no use. Maybe everything was just going to stay like this. Forever.
Sarada walked inside her house. No one was home.
She hummed calmly under her breath in a tune, getting some milk out of the fridge. "I want someone to stab me with a kunai... Suffocate me until I die..."
She was well aware her mental state was in tatters. Her casually singing about her own death like it was something she was looking forward to was proof. She had to pretend to be some resemblance of fine in front of everyone else. So in private, she didn't bother to hide it... Even if she knew she would never follow through.
Sipping her milk, she sunk into the couch, closing her eyes. Breathing out a sigh.
He'll be back. He said he'd be back.
It'd been three years. Three whole years. And he still wasn't back. She hopped up and discarded the empty bottle and made her way up to her room.
"Give it up Sarada." She repeated Shikamaru's words aloud, turning round and flopping backwards onto her bed, taking her glasses off and letting them fall with her limp hand atop the blankets. "No matter what you say, I can't let someone who killed the seventh get away with it."
Her arm blanketed darkness over her eyes. I wonder if I could take him on... Shikamaru doesn't seem strong enough to beat me... No. No matter how strong you are, you have to bear with it until Boruto gets back. Don't cause trouble for him by digging yourself into the same hole he's accused of being in... You won't be able to help anyone if you ruin your standing too.
But that didn't change the fact that she was angry. And sad. And hurt, and lonely and all of the other things she hated feeling.
Chakra was bubbling inside her. Seeping out of her eyes that had changed, unbeknownst to her own self. She stared at her throwing target. If she threw something now, she'd destroy the house. She didn't want to go train. Too big of a risk of running into someone that'd set her off even more.
She wanted to scream into her pillow and kick her feet into the bed. But Sarada was grown. And mature. So she stared, and let her feelings bubble and fester inside of her. Raging behind closed eyes like a violent storm.
And as she was thinking of the terrible fit she wanted to throw to snap everyone out of it, she took a deep breath. Turned onto her side.
A tear leaked over the bridge of her nose.
She didn't want to cry. She didn't want to think about him either. She just wanted to sleep. To sleep and make all the bad things go away. Turn them into nightmares that at least allowed her to realize that her reality wasn't as bad as her imagination.
But as she sat there, tears dripping selfishly out of her eyes against her will, all she could think of was his name. His voice. His stupid dorky smile that he flashed at her when he got away with something he wasn't supposed to do.
Her nose twitched. Lip quivered. She tugged at her bangs until it felt like her hair was going to rip right out of her scalp.
And then, she was on her knees in her bed, shaking. This was a common occurrence. She simply let the feeling was through her, wide eyes dripping tears onto the pillow, fingers curling into her short hair.
I hate this.
Her body trembled, the anxiety and hatred pouring through her like a flood, squeezing her heart in her chest, suffocating her. Imaginary violent actions whipped through her mind at Mach speed.
Slamming Shikamaru's head into his desk and forcing him to accept reality the way she saw it.
Slamming Eida into a wall, black flames licking at her looped blue hair, demanding she change it back at the cost of her life.
Slamming Kawaki into the ground, demanding to know what he did to the seventh.
She couldn't do any of it.
"It's... not... fair," the words leaked through her tight lips, pulled back against her teeth as sobs wracked her chest. "It's... all... wrong..."
She couldn't breathe, clawing at her tight throat for non-existent air, gasping for breath and flipping over on her back, chest heaving. I hate this.
Another bout of suffocation. Greif threatening to swallow her whole. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned on her side, fingers digging into the bed so much that her nails stung.
Five grueling cycles of earth shattering sobs later, her tears collected into a puddle under her temple and stuck her short hair to her face. Sarada rolled back, too exhausted to feel anything.
Her arm came to the same position it had been before it all started. Blanketing her world in darkness. Ha... Another panic attack...
Alongside the weight in her chest was fear. A deep aching. What if... What if he never came back?
If he didn't show in the next year... She'd give up on trying. On maintaining this stupid farce. Pretending like she was under Ada's spell. Pretending to play nice with everyone who wanted to kill him.
No matter how impossible it was... In a years time, she'd find him, along with her father. Or die trying.
And as she laid there, curled into a ball and determined to sleep, sleep didn't come. Her eyes could be closed for three minutes or thirty, and they'd open right back up again with a start, another angry or anxious thought ridding her of the rest her body craved.
The curtains were letting in light. The birds chirped their unfortunately familiar morning song.
Completely exhausted, Sarada formed a plus sign with her fingers. She'd been so good. Three months and she hadn't relied on a single shadow clone. But perhaps... That was what broke her down.
"...Boruto..."
Her clone appeared in front of her, transforming with a poof of smoke. It didn't bother to say anything. It just laid next to her and wrapped its arms around her, letting her snuggle against it.
And as Sarada's fingers curled into the white cotton t-shirt, her dark bangs splayed against his chest, breathing in his scent, feeling the warmth of and weight of his arms encompassing her... She drifted peacefully off to sleep.
. . .
Sarada was getting better. Her emotions were more stable. The only time she really wanted to lose it was when someone mentioned killing Boruto. And in those times, she didn't hold back from glaring at them with sunlit eyes.
No matter how much she tried, no one was convinced that he was innocent. She couldn't even get Shikadai to reason with her.
And so it was that when Shikamaru issued the order for everyone who could fight to go after the ten tails, she steeled herself for a battle with death.
The first one appeared in front of her. And then another. And a third, and a fourth.
And then Code himself.
He was looking for Boruto, but Sarada knew just as well as anyone else did. He wasn't there.
However Code's next line made her body stiffen. "I thought I'd have his former friends toward whom he still cares about summon him. Starting with you."
Sarada's frozen body lowered, preparing herself for a fight she knew she couldn't win.
"I hope you can scream real pretty... So that it will reach him."
It was in times like these. She longed for her clones to be real. If he was there... He would save her. But Sarada knew. Even if she screamed her lung out, it didn't mean he was coming back.
And in that moment. A shoe dropped down on Code's smug face. Sarada tilted her head up. And her breath caught in her throat.
Boruto.
Taller. A grimace all to similar to her father's on his face. A sword at his side, a cloak around his broad shoulders.
"It's that kind of sickening thing... That creeps girls out."
Before she could blink, he flipped backwards off of Code and was standing in front of her. The all too familiar view of his back looked completely different.
And as if she was in a dream... She couldn't do anything but stand. And stare. This wasn't her shadow clone coming to her rescue.
It was him.
"You've finally shown yourself... Boruto."
It was his voice. Sarada doubted her own sense of reality. He'd changed so much. His hair. His voice. His clothes. The shape of his face. And most of all...
His eyes held a certain darkness. Pain, suffering. A hardened wall around his previously childish emotions. The Boruto she knew and loved went and... grew up. So much. Without her.
"...You obviously heard me. So hurry up and do it, or else... You'll lose more than your left eye this time."
Cold. Harsh. Reminiscent of the way her father was when she first met him after all those years.
"And here I thought I'd heard the worst of your bluffs," said Code. "What can I do but laugh?"
It wasn't a bluff, and Sarada knew it. But why... Why along with his strength had he gotten so distant? It was as if the creases of his eyes that used to crinkle when he smiled had all but vanished. She eyed his profile after he continued to stay silent, having a stare-down with Code.
"...Boruto..."
"Sarada. There are still lots of folks who haven't gotten away. Could you help them? I'll handle Code."
Something about his voice seemed off. "Are... you sure?"
It wasn't like she didn't trust him. She knew more than anyone that he wouldn't bluff in a time like this. There was just a certain fear... That he was really going to kill him. Just like that. Just like the time he transformed into Momoshiki and killed Boro.
There were enemies that needed to be killed. Sarada knew that at heart. But it was always something she struggled with. Whether it was right to put an end to someone's life, no matter how evil they were. But that same hesitation was completely gone from Boruto's face. All that was there... Was a stone cold blue eye and an almost heartless expression.
"...We'll talk later. Just stay alive."
Her eyes widened.
Even if he seemed cold and heartless... Boruto was still Boruto. He was still worried about her. He was still watching out for her. And she finally had his word... That they'd be able to talk.
After all these years. Finally.
Sarada's expression firmed. "Same goes for you." She turned to leave. Clenched her fist. Gritted her teeth.
Turning on her heel, she dashed back to where he was and threw her arms around him from behind. She didn't need him to hug her back. She just needed him to know...
"I missed you."
She needed him to know that he was still human. No matter what everyone else thought of him. That he didn't have to do it all on his own. That she was willing to shoulder anything he needed her to. And that even if the entire village hated him... She'd never stop trying to convince them he was good.
Just as she was about to drop her arms, she felt him tremble under his cloak. She'd give anything to hold him and give him the support she'd been getting from her transformed clones for the past three years. But all that could come later. Right now... There were people that needed to be saved.
Sarada slowly backed away. And then he said her name.
"Sarada."
She watched, his cape billowing as he drew his katana from his waist. For just a moment, his gaze broke away from Code's.
He turned.
And a pain laced idiotic grin pulled at the whiskers on his cheeks.
"I missed you too."
Her lip quivered. Eyes instantly watering and making everything blurry.
"Oh? How touching. The soft little boy thinks he can--"
With one smooth motion, Boruto drew his sword and cut down the surrounding claw grimes. "I wasn't talking to you, Code. Your life is on the line. Now... You have two choices. Take me to the main body of the Ten Tails... Or die a painful death."
Sarada took a step backwards. She took off her glasses to wipe the tears escaping from her eyes.
Sheesh. He's really gotten all... Shannaro.
With one last look at his aged features, she steeled her expression, and practiced the skill of severing her overflowing emotions. He was alive. He was ok. And he missed her. That was more than enough.
Now, she had a new mission. Help the others. And stay alive. So that when this was all over, she could sit down and have a nice long leisurely chat with her childhood friend.